Joseph, Ren, and Lee walked quickly down the street. Getting out of the Scicenter had been easy enough. After they’d gone through the hole, Ren had reached back inside, grabbed the edge of an equipment station, and pulled it against the wall to hide what they’d done.
From the outside, the hole had been much too noticeable—an uneven oval standing out against the smooth, white surface of the building. So Lee had pulled a small hologram camera from his belt and taken a picture of an intact portion of the wall. He left the button-sized projector sitting on the ground where it could project a flawless holographic picture of the wall to cover the ruined spot.
Hopefully no one would realize what they had done until Xavier, Taylor, Echo, and—Joseph didn’t even like thinking her name—Allana had left the building.
Allana. Joseph clenched his teeth, angry that his brother had brought her here, and angry at himself for not realizing beforehand that Echo might do it.
This was just what they needed now when the mission had already become impossibly hard: a Dakine member to drag around and protect. Hadn’t Echo already learned that he couldn’t trust her?
Ren checked the scanner on his comlink to make sure nobody had rushed out of the Scicenter to come after them. No one had.
The walkway wasn’t too busy. A few people strolled by. Other people stood at the edge of the street waiting for cars.
In a few more minutes, Joseph, Ren, and Lee would reach the mobile crystal on Charles Street. They would need a car to meet with the DW and need one to get to the detention center. Lee kept his stride casual and he smiled, as though the three of them were talking about the latest light-ball game. “How come none of us remember the plan to free Sheridan?”
Joseph had his own comlink out, looking at the detention-center layout. “We were in the protection of the Scicenter’s time vector field when the past switched, so we didn’t change. We still remember the old timestream even though a new one replaced it. But our brains aren’t designed to deal with two different realities at the same time. Our minds are mixing them together, rejecting the new memories.”
Joseph turned his comlink to a video feed and tapped in Mendez’s number. Mendez had a secret comlink, one he used only for DW business. He would know what to do and how to help them rescue Sheridan.
Mendez’s face appeared on the screen. As usual, his expression was stern and unreadable. “Yes?”
“We have a problem,” Joseph said. How could he explain this in a short time? “We need help with the detention center. Is there somewhere we can meet?”
Mendez’s eyes narrowed. “Who are you? How did you get this number?”
Joseph stared at him, not wanting to hear what he was hearing. “Mendez, it’s me. Joseph . . .” Even as he said the words, he knew they wouldn’t matter. The timestream had changed, and apparently in the new one, Mendez wasn’t their contact. After a moment’s thought it made sense. Sheridan had found Mendez in the old timestream, and he’d been their contact ever since. In the new one, someone else had the job. Joseph searched for that memory and could vaguely picture a man—an unassuming older man you normally wouldn’t notice in a crowd. Joseph couldn’t remember his name or comlink number.
Mendez gave Joseph a scowl to show he didn’t like being bothered. “I don’t know who you are. You must be mistaking me for someone else.”
“No,” Joseph said. “While I was working with the QGPs, I inadvertently changed time. That’s the problem. We need to rescue Sheridan from the detention center, but I don’t remember how we planned on doing it or who our contact was.”
Mendez shook his head. He looked like he was about to turn his comlink off.
“Wait,” Joseph told him. “Ask about it. Someone in the DW knows what I’m talking about. We have a contact there.”
At the mention of the initials DW, Mendez’s eyes turned into cold slits. “Is this a joke? You call up a stranger and accuse him of belonging to the DW? I wonder if the Enforcement Department would think that was funny?”
The screen went dark. Mendez had ended the call.
“Great,” Lee said. “That went really well.”
Ren’s pace was faster now, angry. His dark ponytail swished across his shoulders with every step he took. “Didn’t you realize this might happen before you changed time? Didn’t you make contingency plans?”
Joseph stared at his comlink, unwilling to clip it back onto his belt yet. “I knew Taylor and I would be safe. . . .” He couldn’t finish the sentence. The pressure he’d felt earlier was there again, pushing against his chest.
“Maybe Mendez will call back,” Lee said. “You told him to ask people about what you said. Some of them know about our mission. Somebody will understand what has happened.”
“He’s not going to call back,” Ren said, his words coming out in a sharp rhythm. “It sounded like a trap. Strangers claim to know someone in your organization, although they can’t remember who. Mendez probably thought his comlink was compromised, and he’s incinerating it right now.”
Ren was right, Joseph knew. Not only was their mission damaged, but he had also messed up their way back home. Were they even supposed to meet at the Fisherman’s Feast restaurant when this was all over? If not, where were they supposed to go?
Joseph searched his memory but could only think about the night before he left Santa Fe. He’d forgotten to meet Sheridan for dinner. How could he have forgotten? How could he have messed everything up this badly?
“So what do we do now?” Lee asked.
“We do what we have to,” Joseph said. “You have paramilitary training, and I can figure out a way to outsmart the Enforcers. We’ll find a way to rescue Sheridan by ourselves.”