CHAPTER SEVEN: May 9, 1915

As it turns out, we end up doing a bit of wandering around the German countryside anyway, since Baron von Schneider happened to have two manors. When we arrive at the summer home near the Rhine, his servants cordially inform us that, due to the war, the family is still residing in the winter home in Berlin, which is further from the Western Front.

So we Jump again, this time to the outskirts of Berlin, since by this time we’re both getting impatient and don’t want to take the time to research potential safe Jump locations inside Berlin during World War One. With the entire war being within a Black Date—a time deemed too dangerous or important to risk time travel—there’s no Jump location readily available in our records. Better to Jump out into a field somewhere than risk Jumping directly into someone’s drawing room.

We land outside of Berlin as the sun is rising. The walk into the city is cold and dreary, and Nell bugs me the whole time about Cass.

“So this sister of yours—?”

“I’d rather not get into it.”

“You still haven’t told me how she’d ended up in 1915. I mean, she’s your biological sister, right? Biological child of your parents? This isn’t just some code name or something, is it?”

“That’s classified, no, yes, and no.”

Nell stops walking for a moment as she puzzles over my answers. “So she isn’t your biological sister, but she is the biological child of your parents?”

“Bingo. I’m the one that’s adopted. I figured you’d have known that—doesn’t Clarke have you keep tabs on all the Retrievers’ ancestors?”

“Not my department.” She rushes to catch up to me. “So much of it is automated nowadays anyway. All it takes is a quick drop of DNA, punch a few buttons, and get a complete list of when and where not to Jump in order to avoid one’s distant relations. So who’s the time traveler here? Her, your parents, or you?”

Or all of the above? I sigh. “I told you, I’d rather not talk about it. It’s not something that I’ve told anyone, and it could land my family in a lot of trouble.”

“Like, a rogue PITTA agent hunting them down kind of trouble?” When I don’t answer, she continues. “Look, I like you, Dodge. As far as co-workers go, you’re okay. You’ve always treated me decently, even before you decided you need my help.”

“Thanks, I guess.”

“But we’re even now, you and me. I’ve kept your secret, and you’ve let me try out this time travel thing. Which—don’t get me wrong—has been great. But we get any deeper into this, I need to know that I’m on the right side of things, that I’m not lending aid to some sort of time traveling criminal mastermind.”

“And you wait till now to ask me this?” I say, gesturing to the Berlin skyline in front of us. “You realize that if I really were some time traveling criminal mastermind, I could knock you out right now, take your Wormhole, and maroon you here in the midst of the Great War without so much as a goodbye.”

“Okay, so maybe I got a bit carried away with the whole time travel thing and didn’t exactly think this all through,” Nell admits. “Besides, if you are a time traveling criminal mastermind, I’d rather you ditch me here in the past where I can just disappear and make a new life for myself, rather than drag me back to the present where I’d have to explain to Clarke why I was helping you.”

“Fair point.”

“So tell me now, before we get in any deeper. What’s really going on here?”

I sigh. Whether I like it or not, she’s involved in this now, and I’m going to have to trust her. If all goes well, we’ll be meeting up with Cass soon, and it’s not like she’s going to keep hush-hush about everything.

“My parents were time travelers,” I say, “my adopted parents, that is, not my biological ones. They both ended up living far into their futures due to circumstances beyond their control, but in order to preserve the integrity of the timeline, we had to send my sister back to the early 20th century so that she could become the ancestor of a PITTA Retriever from 2012 who once saved my life.”

Nell stops walking again and lets out a low whistle.

“Okay,” she says slowly. “But now I’m really going to need the whole story.”

***

By the time we arrive at Baron von Schneider’s home in the city—an elaborate, stone monstrosity that looms darkly over a busy city street—Nell knows pretty much everything about my family’s twisted timeline.

“That is messed up,” Nell mutters for the third or fourth time as we wait for an answer to our knock on the baron’s front door.

“Yeah, you’re telling me,” I say, allowing myself to smile. In a way, it’s nice to finally talk about it all with someone besides my parents or Cass or Dr. Wells. For them, it’s too personal. Our discussions about it have always been accompanied by tension and a sense of looming danger. Nell’s comments, though, are filled with awe and surprise and cheeky quips. As an outsider, she can better appreciate what a crazy story it really is.

The door creaks open and a butler stares down his nose at us. I steal a glance at Nell, who’s somehow, over the course of our walk, gotten her clothing dirty and rumpled. Learning to live in the time of so many layers and such inconvenient transportation options does require some skill, but I doubt I look much better after our walk.

“Can I help you?” the butler asks in German.

“Yes, I am here to see my sister, the new governess. It’s somewhat of an emergency, or I’d have written instead.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Nell’s eyes widen, and it’s only after the butler asks—in German again—for us to step inside and wait that I realize why.

“What did he say?” she hisses in English. “What did you say?”

“You don’t know much German, do you?” I whisper.

“Nein, dummkopf,” she snaps. “You should’ve told me to bring a FISH device.”

“You don’t have one in your implant?”

“No. When would I have ever needed one sitting behind a desk in the post-Universal Business Language era?”

“Well, then you should have brought one yourself, time traveler.” Fortunately, I happen to carry a spare with me in case my implant goes wonky, as it sometimes does in the past. I pass her the tiny Foreign Interpreter of Speech Hearing device, and she shoves it into her ear. At least now she’ll be able to follow along with our conversation.

I hear Cass’s footsteps on the staircase before I see her—you’d think after nearly a year living in this era, she’d get used to walking in heeled shoes, but she still clomps around awkwardly. I’m so relieved to see her that her “if looks could kill” expression surprises me.

“What are you doing here?” she hisses, and I draw back, worried that she might slap me. I open my mouth, ready to make excuses, when—

“Wait a second,” I say, coming to my senses. “What am I doing here?”

“Deutsch,” Cass hisses. “Wir sind Deutsch.”

“I’m looking for you,” I say, switching to German. “You want to explain to me what you’re doing here? And how you got here.” I put excessive emphasis on the last words, and I can tell by the change in her expression that she knows I know about the Lusitania.

Cass raises her voice. “I’m trying to earn a living, which is more than I can say for you. You’re here to take my paycheck, aren’t you? To gamble it away just like you’ve done with our inheritance. Spend it on women.” She gestures to Nell and simultaneously shoots me a questioning look.

“Nell and I aren’t involved. She’s a colleague who helped me track you down after you disappeared. From New York. On that ship.”

“Just leave,” Cass says, dramatically flinging a hand toward the door. “I have no money for you, and I can’t ask Baron von Schneider for an advance, either, so it’s no use trying to press me for it.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m not here to take your money. I’m here to warn you.” I hesitate, wondering how to get my message across when obviously Cass is concerned that other servants in the household might be listening in. “There might be someone coming here, looking for you. You know… a collector.”

“For me?” She narrows her eyes. “Why would a collector be looking for me?”

“Or for me. I don’t know. But they might be dangerous. It’d be better if you allowed me to take you home—”

Our conversation is interrupted by the entrance of a sharply dressed man. One quick glance at his suit and hat and I know this is obviously Baron von Schneider. He’s got a prominent nose, bushy eyebrows, and the air of someone who has a million things on his mind—all of which are more important than you.

“Baron von Schneider,” Cass says, dropping to a lopsided curtsy.

“I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation,” he says, turning his coal-black eyes upon me and ignoring Cass and Nell entirely. “I can assure you that Fräulein Silbern is quite safe here. Leaving at this point would be simply out of the question. It’s taken me many weeks to find a suitable governess, and my son has already taken to her over this past week.”

This past week? I glance at Cass, who just shoots me an exasperated look.

“I need to stay the night.” The words are out of my mouth before I can really think them through. I grab Nell’s arm before she can retreat out the door. “We both do. I swear we won’t be any trouble, but we’ve traveled a long way to get here and we don’t have money for a hotel. I know it’s an unusual request, but if we could intrude upon your hospitality for just one evening—”

“Dodge,” Cass hisses. “I’m working here.”

“I understand that,” I say through gritted teeth, then turn to the baron, “but I need time to speak with my sister about this important matter. It’s about our family. Our grandfather.”

Growing up as the children of time travelers, we didn’t know either sets of our grandparents, so I hope the mention of a grandfather will bring to mind Dr. Wells—who at least looks the part of a grandfather even if he is technically Cass’s descendant rather than her ancestor.

Baron von Schneider frowns down his nose at me, then glances at Cass, who sighs. “I’m sorry, sir. My grandfather hasn’t been well…”

He nods sharply and turns his attention to the letter in his hand. “I see you two have some catching up to do, so I will leave you to it. You may ask Marta to make up the guest room adjoining yours for your brother and his…” He glances at Nell, his face scrunching up in obvious distaste at the random strands of hair hanging out from under her hat. He looks to me for some clarification, and when I don’t offer any (sometimes silence is the safest answer), he clears his throat and turns back to Cass. “For your guests.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Baron von Schneider tucks the envelope in a pocket. He pulls a pair of leather gloves from his jacket and slides them meticulously over his delicate hands. “Now, I’m afraid I have business to attend to this evening, so I’ll be unable to join you for dinner. Abelard has his piano recital tomorrow morning, so please ensure that he’s practiced his scales and bathed before you put him to bed tonight. I trust that your guests will not distract you from your duties.”

“Of course not, sir,” Cass says, dipping her head respectfully. She shoots me a steely look.

“Excellent. Well, then. It was very nice to meet you, Herr Silbern,” he says to me, momentarily throwing me off; it’s obviously a variant of our mother’s surname, Argent, but I’ve always gone by my birth name, Greenley. But now’s not the time to get into that. I can be “Herr Silbern” for a few days.

“Nice to meet you, too, Baron. I apologize again for our imposition.”

“Yes, well, I don’t know what I’d do without Fräulein Silbern. She’s been quite wonderful with Abelard. Any relation of hers is welcome under our roof.”

“Thank you, sir,” I say, trying to ignore the fact that his face speaks a different message than his words.