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ANSWERS. I just needed more answers, and then I could return to the Clock Tower and finish what I’d set out to do. “But first, I want to make sure I understand something more completely,” I said. “About how Overwrites work, how they’re even possible when there are slices in time that can show the truth to anyone looking for it. Edgar wasn’t able to explain that to me.”
“I see.” I could sense Enta’s mind working through the concentration in her eyes. “Perhaps he would have, had computers been invented in his time, as well as understood to the extent to which they are in yours...and mine.”
I leaned in closer. “Overwriting Daily Reminders has something to do with computers?”
“Yes, like the data storage on a hard drive on a computer, even when Daily Reminders are deleted—much like files—and even when things happen like a traveler showing up in someone else’s past in which he or she wasn’t a true part—a slice in time will show ghost copies of the truth, similar to how ghost copies of a file still remain on a hard drive.”
Puzzled, I twisted my lips.
Enta smiled. “A computer file is queued for deletion and the space it once took up is made available, but the file’s not actually gone until it is overwritten by something else.”
I rubbed my eyes as I absorbed Enta’s explanation. I’d learned in one of my online intro to computer classes that when I deleted something from my hard drive, it didn’t automatically disappear. Deleting the file just made the space where the data had been available for new data to fill in that space. What I deleted didn’t actually go away until the new data replaced it. “Oh,” I said, understanding.
She waited until I looked up at her before continuing. “Overwrites work similarly, not just for Daily Reminders, but for slices in time. Each slice in time is a ghost file of the truth.”
“So, then, what about all my appearances in Valcas’ past?”
“You can go back and visit the slices until they are overwritten by something else.”
“But that would mean the truth disappears?”
“It doesn’t disappear so much as it’s recycled.”
“What’s the difference between that situation and an Overwrite of a Daily Reminder?”
“An Overwrite replaces the existence of a Daily Reminder everywhere it appears in a slice in time—assuming the original copy is overwritten. This is similar to how destroying a Daily Reminder destroys its existence everywhere it appears in a slice in time. It is a faster way of recycling.”
“But what if an Overwrite is not truth?”
“Then, I suppose it’s a recorded lie. One with the power to conceal the truth.”
A saying popped in my mind—one Ray told me he’d seen on the glass ball, the portal to Susana that had been on the Clock Tower. The portal had melted after my father destroyed Susana by setting it on fire.
Time is relative, a measurement. Without it, one becomes Lost. But with time, one becomes fixed. The Lost are free. The claimed, the Found, remain tethered to the TSTA.
Slices in time were fixed. Those who lost sight of time became Lost. My father and I had set them free; they weren’t Found. They were Freed.
Who were the Found?
If Susana was a TSTA project, then why would the portal state something against the TSTA?
Now that there was no longer a Susana, was there any place for the Lost to go?
Suddenly, I didn’t care about the TSTA’s rules anymore. I no longer feared its infractions. I certainly wasn’t tethered to the agency. I was one of the Freed; and I planned to create an Overwrite of my own, if I could figure out how to do it in a way that would rearrange Valcas’ timeline—or mine—so that our timelines would match. What Enta told me about Sable’s tome encouraged me. I wasn’t sure what I had in mind would be possible, but I had to try.
“Enta, I have to go.”
She flinched. “I was going to make hot chocolate. You need to rest, to warm.”
“No,” I said, my voice weak and unconvincing. “I’ll be fine.”
Enta frowned, but she did nothing to stop me. “It was good seeing you again. From what you’ve told me, I suppose I have no further business here.”
“Will you go back to the homestead?”
She smiled, but her eyes clouded with tears. “I will go home.”
I pulled her in for a brief hug before opening the door and stepping back out into the hallway.
My visit with Enta hadn’t been as eventful as I’d hoped, but I’d learned a lot. On the other hand, it would have been much more eventful had the Halls been home. Jim was dead. Valcas was at the Clock Tower. And, Sable could have been in Aboreal for all I knew.
I doubted Enta would have snooped around the White Tower while Sable was there; but there were a lot of rooms. Enta would only have needed to be careful when entering and exiting the hallway. But, then, how did she get past security? I thought back to the first time I’d visited the White Tower, with Romaso and Shirlyn. A whole team of Estrel-Flyers had come after us. Security hadn’t arrived when I’d traveled to Enta, not knowing where she was, that she was in a room inside the White Tower. Had Enta also traveled directly to one of the places inside its rooms?
I’d also learned from my first visit to the White Tower, and many trips thereafter, that the hallway was mapped, with rooms grouped as if they belonged together. For example, one section of the hallway held guest suites, rooms separate from the main house. The bedrooms, kitchen and other living spaces Valcas and his parents personally occupied were arranged together in a different section. Add to that the mashup of earthlike and otherworldly places beyond the doors, and the White Tower was a curious puzzle of the surreal. I kind of liked it.
But I had to return to the Clock Tower—both in an attempt to clean up the mess the TSTA had made in its power struggle over Aboreal and the Lost, and to ensure no one would ever get Lost again—that there would be no place for them to go. Not to mention the admittedly selfish reasons that involved Valcas and me.
A blur of purpose skipped through my mind as I placed the travel glasses on my face and ran through the White Tower’s hallway, focusing on the Clock Tower and my friends.
The travel glasses transported me instantly, although I had no clue how much time or space existed between the White Tower and the Clock Tower—two worlds whose existence exceeded comprehension, if I thought about them too much. Worlds connected by a portal, but also threaded together in the Everywhere and Everywhen.
I wasn’t a World Builder like Valcas and his parents. Neither was I an inventor with a brilliant mind like Edgar or Enta. I was nothing compared to the grand scheme of space and time. But all of that was about to change, in favor of a new era—one in which (I hoped) the TSTA couldn’t control anybody, including me. Before that could happen—should such a thing be possible—I had to run an experiment that would affect far fewer lives.
The white light faded, unveiling a purple sky. I was outside the Clock Tower. Its timepieces swayed to a rhythm I’d never understand. After grounding, I rushed inside.
Valcas greeted me at the door. A look of longing and concern washed over his features before he surrounded me with his arms. “You’re okay. Did you find what you were looking for?”
“I think so,” I said, smiling as we walked up the stairs into Nick’s home.
Nick, Ivory, Ray, Lily and my father sat together in the center of the room, now more cramped than I’d ever seen it. I didn’t know how Nick could stand having so many people invade his privacy. After having been alone for so long, he probably enjoyed the company. But, still...
No one lifted a head to greet me. They sat, hunched over a laptop, gazing intently at its screen. Unsurprisingly, Ray controlled the computer.
Nick and Ivory both had sour looks on their faces, their lips pulled in tight lines. They sat so close together that it was difficult to tell where one’s snowy white hair ended and the other’s began. Well, not too difficult when I focused on Nick’s bandages.
“What it is?” I asked, unable to contain my curiosity any longer.
“It’s all here,” breathed Lily, pointing at the screen. “Details about Ray’s tattoo, project Susana—Uproars and The Chars, they were all under the TSTA’s control, all part of its plan.”
I caught my breath. We’d had our suspicions about the TSTA’s involvement and had already solved the mystery behind Ray’s tattoo. “That’s good, right? We’re able to confirm that it’s all the TSTA’s fault—and President Bree’s.”
Everyone glared at Valcas.
“We also learned,” growled my father, “how the TSTA forced a World Builder to build Susana.”