39

BRIDGER

APRIL 23, 2146

The tiny cell I’m in is too bright. Bright white walls and floors. Crisp white linens on the narrow bed. Stark lights. I’m going blind. And nuts.

I figure I’ve been in here going on two, maybe three hours. After the Space Benders arrested me, they whisked me away to a five-story black building near the DTA headquarters.

The Black Hole.

The place where the Feds toss anyone who screws with the government. Once you go in, you don’t come back out unless you’re nulled. Or executed.

I pace the cell for what seems like the hundredth time. There’s only one pitiful excuse for a window. Nothing that will allow prisoners to escape. The only other window in this room is a small one on the door. I can’t even see out of it. I stop to stare at my reflection in it, wondering if anyone is out in the hallway observing me. Probably not. Two cameras are mounted in the room with me. They won’t see me doing anything interesting. They shackled me with a thin metallic device around my neck, an Inhibitor, that prevents me from shifting.

I turn away and frown at my supper. The remains of the fishy-smelling paste concoction is smeared against the wall and floor. Courtesy of General Anderson. I cringe, remembering his visit.

To say he was pissed when he left earlier is a huge understatement.

He came in smiling at first. Nothing like the red-faced ranting lunatic I stunned a few weeks ago. But he didn’t stay that way. He threw one question after another at me, but I wouldn’t answer him. Then he flung my tray off the table.

Dad never told me the general has such anger management issues.

The door slides open. I make myself stay calm. If Anderson comes back for another round of crazy, I’ll be ready to deal with him. Unless he’s found a way to bypass a trial and have me nulled or killed right away. I hope it doesn’t come to that. At least with a trial, I have a chance of getting a lighter sentence.

Professor March enters instead. I heave a sigh of relief.

He stands in the doorway and gives me a long, unreadable stare. My stomach drops. Finally he says, “I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours, Bridger, but you don’t have any idea of the trouble you’re in.”

The wanted picture of me on the Jumbotron flashes in my mind. I start pacing again and reply, “I do, actually.”

He rubs a hand over his eyes. Then he strides to the table and takes one of the seats. Behind him, the door silently shuts. “Please sit,” he says, nodding at the chair opposite him. “I can’t stand watching you prowl around.”

Anyone else, I would ignore, but I owe him. The chair scrapes across the floor as I pull it out. “Tell me the truth, Professor. Is there any way I can get out of this mess?”

“You tell me. I don’t know what you’ve been doing.” His eyes flick up to the camera behind me. “I don’t know what possessed you to shoot General Anderson and me. I don’t know why you decided to perform an illegal shift. It’s like I don’t even know you anymore.”

I look at my lap. My hands start to twitch. I fist one hand and rub it with the other. “I’m sorry, sir.”

I knew he would have to play innocent about the shooting incident. What I’m not prepared for is the guilt eating at my insides. I feel like I’ve let him down. I wish there was some way to disable those cameras so I can talk to him in private.

“Look, I know you’re sorry. Maybe I can work something out with General Anderson. Just tell them what they want to know. That’s all you have to do and this whole mess could go away,” he says in a toneless voice.

No chance that’ll happen. My guess is the general told Professor March to say that. I look down at my clenched fists, suddenly angry. Angry for being in this situation. Angry that they’re forcing Professor March to play bad guy. Angry at my dad for illegally going back in time in the first place. Then somehow reappearing after he’s supposed to be dead and asking me to finish what he started. My life was on a set course. Sitting in a prison cell was not part of the plan. “We both know that’s not going to happen.”

Calm yourself, Bridger.

I jerk my head up.

No! Look back down. Try to appear like you’re having doubts.

What the hell is going on? How can I hear him in my mind? I force myself to breathe slowly.

Professor March keeps talking like nothing weird is happening. “You don’t know that. After everything you’ve done, it’s best for you to cooperate with us. Tell us what year you shifted to and why you went there.” He relaxes his face and even smiles. “Maybe then I can work out a deal for you.”

The words are pretty. Exactly what General Anderson would want him to say. But in my mind I hear something else.

Stay calm. Keep looking down and let me do the talking, but keep your mind open. I’m going to do everything I can to help you, but I need to know the truth. Just picture it, and I’ll be able to see everything.

That’s nearly impossible to do. I want to jump up and pummel him with questions. Namely, how is it that he’s a Time Bender and a Mind Bender?

The Academy has always taught us that nobody can have more than one Talent. Now I know of three people who have dual abilities. It makes me wonder how many more exist. It also makes me wonder why the DTA’s been lying to us.

Open your mind, Bridger.

I relax my muscles and clear my mind. Pressure builds in my head as Professor March attempts to access my memories. My instinct is to build up my mental barrier. I push it away so Professor March can read my thoughts. I want to recoil at the sensation. I’ve never had a Mind Bender extract information out of me. It’s creepy, like I’m being violated.

It doesn’t take long, maybe ten seconds or so. Finally, Professor March breaks the connection. His face shows a flash of astonishment before he slips on a mask of indifference.

“So, you don’t have anything to tell me?” he asks.

“No, sir.”

“Very well, then.” He presses his mouth in a thin line.

My head throbs. Not only from letting the professor in my head, but from nerves. He knows exactly what I’ve been doing, but I have no clue how he feels about it. Or if he’ll even help me to get out of here, much less get back to 2013 so I can finish what I started.

Don’t worry, Bridger. I’m shocked, that’s all.

That makes me feel a little better. Not much, but it’s something. I swear, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this side of Professor March. I’ve never dealt with Mind Benders before. They keep to themselves.

Then I think of something else that unnerves me.

Professor, did Dad know that you’re a Dual Talent?

No. I’ve never told anyone. Can you imagine what would happen to me if the DTA found out?

He’s got a point. There’s no telling what their scientists would do to him. One thing is for sure—he’d never be free again.

So you didn’t know what Dad was doing either?

No. He never said anything to me, and I’d never read someone’s mind without their consent.

Okay. I get that. But tell me why hasn’t the general ordered an investigation into Dad’s actions prior to his death? Or even into what I did before I shifted?

Professor March looks away for a moment. I don’t know everything that’s going on, Bridger. But what I do know is that General Anderson is trying to hide something from certain people at the DTA.

Does it have to do with Dual Talents?

I think so. And that’s the one reason he doesn’t know what year you and your dad shifted to. He can’t order a formal investigation without alerting everyone.

So what is he charging me with?

Running away while being investigated, performing an illegal shift, resisting arrest, and shooting superior officers.

I squeeze my eyes shut, my mind reeling. What is going on? And how did Dad get in the middle of it?

Professor March breaks into my thoughts. Look, I’ve got to go now. Give me time and I’ll see what I can do to get you out of here.

How are you going to do that?

I might have to resort to other measures.

What’s that supposed to mean?

Just trust me, Bridger.

He suddenly stands and plants his palms on the table. “I don’t think you understand the full impact of your actions. If you don’t change your mind, General Anderson will bring in an Extractor.”

My blood turns to ice. Extractors are Mind Benders employed by the DTA to forcibly obtain information from individuals who can put up a mental barrier. It’s a painful process when someone doesn’t want their mind to be read. I’ve heard stories of people screaming in agony before falling unconscious or suffering from brain hemorrhages. They always end up dying.

Professor March stares like he’s trying to intimidate me. I don’t know what to say. I realize he’s going to try to help me, but what if he can’t?

Bridger, trust me. I’m going to do everything I can to help you. Let them continue to think you’re going to resist them. It’ll buy me some time to make arrangements.

I swallow hard. Then I lean back in my chair and cross my arms over my chest. I might as well play up the part of uncooperative prisoner. “Go ahead, Professor. Tell them to do their worst. I’m not saying a thing.”