Extracted (9 page)

I grab him by the vest, my hands shaking. “What happened to me? I need to know.” My voice trembles, though I try to keep it steady. I feel like I’m going crazy. My heart is beating so fast and so hard I can feel the pulse in my ears. My skin itches everywhere, as if there’s something inside me trying to crawl out. I know I shouldn’t say more, but it comes spilling out anyway. “I keep getting these bits and pieces. Faces I can’t quite place and bits of conversations. I feel like, the more I try to remember, the more it fades away.” I open my mouth to say more, but Doc Monroe cuts in.

“There’s a reason the first trip through the time stream washes away our memories, Ember. It’s protecting us, allowing us to be reborn into a new life without the pain of what came before.”

“You don’t understand!” I’m yelling now, but I can’t help it. If I have to sit here a moment longer, I’m going to combust. “I need to remember. I’ve forgotten something really important.” I look to Flynn. His face is sympathetic, but sad. My first instinct is to make a run for it. My palms twitch as I release him and ball my hands into fists, ready to fight my way out. Only his kind, familiar voice stops me.

“Ember, you have to know, you were lucky I found you when I did. You almost died in that fire. The recruits have all had to leave their lives, families, friends, and everything behind to come here. Rifters can’t be tied to any specific point in time; we have to be beyond it, above it. There can be nothing holding us back, Ember. It’s how we have to operate.” He takes my hand, awakening the nest of wasps that apparently lives in my stomach. “We need to keep this from happening again.”

“How?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

Doc holds up a pair of intricately made goggles that have clockwork gears where the lenses should be. I tense, and Flynn squeezes my hand. It’s all I can do to stay calm, to keep myself from fighting my way out of the room.

“This is a device Tesla created. It isolates specific memories in the brain and builds a sort of mental wall, much the way the time stream itself works. It’ll help you forget.”

As soon as he says the words, I jerk back, curling up on the gurney.

“Please don’t, Flynn. Don’t take the memories away. I want them.” The words are dripping with desperation. “There’s got to be a reason I’m remembering, right? I mean, why am I getting these memories back if they aren’t important?”

He takes a deep breath, and I can tell he’s considering my words. “Ember, you are one of the strongest Rifters I’ve ever seen. And maybe I shouldn’t tell you this, but you will remember. Eventually, you’ll remember everything.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, half-stunned by his admission.

“I mean, after a while, Rifters’ abilities fade. You won’t always be able to access the time stream. Like Mortimer. Even Catherine is losing her abilities. As you get older, they will burn out. When that happens, your connection to the time stream will be severed and all the things it took from you—all the memories—they will come back.”

I have no idea what to say, so I just stare at him, trying to tell if he’s being serious. The sad look on his face tells me he is.

“But that means, I mean, weren’t you and Catherine trained together?” I ask. “Why can you still rift?”

He exchanges a stern look with Doc before he answers. “Yes. We were trained together. But we aren’t all equal. Like you. You are strong, so you’ll all be able to rift longer than any of us. It’s why Tesla chose your team. He chooses only the strongest. You’ll probably be rifting years after your team can’t anymore.”

“The ones who burn out slower,” I counter, a strange bitterness swelling inside me.

“Yes. And as for me, my time is coming. I can feel it, winding down. My own memories have been returning for a while now. It won’t be long for me.”

I reach out, putting my hand on top of his. He looks so young. “How long have you been rifting?” I ask, suddenly curious how much time I have.

“I’ve been rifting so long I can’t even count the years anymore.”

My eyes must be bugging out of my head, because he chuckles. “Oh, yes. I’m old, Ember. So much older than I look. Tesla thinks it’s the traveling. Being in the time stream slows the aging process down. When you stop traveling, the aging speeds back up to normal.”

I pull my hand back and clutch the sides of my head. It’s so impossible to think straight. “The others should know,” I whisper, thinking of Ethan and Kara. Here we are, so close to committing ourselves to Tesla. “They should know what they are signing on for. All of it.”

“Tesla won’t allow that. He wants the Rifters to have absolute faith in him. If they knew, it might color their reasoning for accepting or declining.”

“Then I’ll tell them,” I say without thinking about the challenge I’m laying down.

Doc puts a hand on my shoulder. “No, Ember. One way or another, you won’t. Tesla won’t allow it.”

I look back to Flynn, who glares at Doc before turning back to me.

“Ember, I only told you so that you’d realize the memories aren’t gone for good. They haven’t been erased. One day, when you are older and more able to handle them, you’ll remember on your own. But right now, they are dangerous. Please. If this kind of blackout were to happen during a rift, we could lose you forever.” He pleads with his green eyes, “And you are too important for that. I need you to trust me. I swear I’ll never let anything bad happen to you. I’ll be here the whole time.”

I nod, not trusting my voice to stay steady. I do trust him. Flynn saved my life—brought me here. Besides Ethan and Kara, he’s the one person in the world I trust most. Doc slips the goggles onto my head. I can’t see anything but a bright-green glow, though I hear Nurse’s clockwork chest give off a puff of steam. I shudder. Flynn slips off the gurney, and I lie back, still clutching his hand.

* * *

I wake up in my bed. A dense fog hovers over the corners of my mind, making everything fuzzy at first. I sit up, still fully dressed. There is a folded piece of paper, with my name written on it, on my desk. I stand up, wait until I’m steady on my feet, and pick up the note.

Ember
,

Report to the rift chamber as soon as you are awake and have had something to eat
.

-Flynn

My stomach growls. No need to tell me twice. Feeling like I’ve slept for the first time in weeks, I head to the cafeteria.

The small dining area has a counter with a selection of food choices and a cooler of milk and juice. I grab a tray of chicken and vegetables and take it to an empty table, where I proceed to devour the food. But every bite is like throwing a penny in a well. The way my stomach twists is more nerves than real hunger, but it feels the same. I could eat every tray in the room and still want more. I drink half my milk in one long gulp and return it to the metal tray with a thud that echoes through the empty room. Suddenly, it feels less like a cafeteria and more like a crypt. The rattle from the air vent is like an ominous breath blowing across my skin. I shake my head.

Ugh. What is wrong with me today? First, I freak out in class, and now I’m jumping at shadows. All because of some stupid nightmares. As I think about them, my mind reaches back for the memories but finds nothing. What happened? My stomach churns again. There is something I wanted to remember. Something important. But it’s gone.

With a grunt, I rise and kick the chair back with one foot. I grab my tray and set it in the dirty dish window. I turn for the door, but before I can take a step the room gets hot. I reach over my head and wave my hand over the vent. It’s thumping, but no air is coming out. I tug at the collar of my grey shirt. It’s gotten really hot—like, sauna hot. Sweat beads along my hairline and little drops of perspiration roll down the back of my neck.

“What the—?” I walk over to the computer interface. It blinks to life when I touch the flat screen. “Interface, what’s wrong with the temperature controls in the cafeteria?”

The voice of Tesla responds with a thick, metallic echo, “All systems functional.”

“Interface, run a diagnostic on the environmental control systems.”

“All systems functional.”

“Then, why is it so hot in here?” I walk over to the door and press the metal plate.

A voice from behind me makes me turn on my heel. “Ember,” the voice says.

There, in the middle of the empty cafeteria stands…well, me.

I feel my mouth drop open the way you only see in cartoons. She—no,
I
am wearing a black leather corset over a golden tunic and striped pants. Her hair is twisted up in the back with loose strands dangling around her face. But the biggest difference between us is the long, fresh scar on her chin. I don’t have a scar there. Not yet, anyway. Before I can compose myself enough to say anything, she takes a step toward me, her hands held out as if to calm me.

“You need to take the first key with you.”

My brain freezes. “What?”

I take an involuntary step back, knowing that we shouldn’t touch. That would be very bad. Catastrophic. Before I can compose myself enough to ask a more rational question like, “Why the heck are we breaking the most basic and universal law of rifting?” she steps backward and vanishes.

I blink. She—no—I have just risked destroying time to give myself that message—it must be something urgent. Life or death.

I back up until the door behind me slides open with a whoosh.

Once I’m in the hallway, I can feel the cool breeze of the air conditioning system circulating through the air. I let go of a breath I’ve been holding. The sudden release of tension nearly brings me to my knees.

Should I tell someone? I dismiss the idea. No need to get myself in trouble for something I haven’t even done yet.

“Hey, Ember!” Kara calls, coming down the hall with Ethan beside her. “There you are. We’ve been looking all over for you. Are you okay? Flynn said you had a panic attack or something.”

I hesitate. A panic attack? Is that what that was? It’s hazy, but I remember it. Sort of.

“Um, yeah. I’m fine. Nerves,” I say weakly.

I look back at the cafeteria door, just to verify that she—me—is really gone. Then I turn, smiling at Kara to cover my shock. “I was just getting something to eat before the test.”

Ethan catches up with me first. He drapes one arm over my shoulders and runs his free hand through his hair. I let myself relax into him. He smells like saltwater and sand. I breathe in the familiar scent, holding my breath until I can’t anymore before releasing it. He’s warm and somehow soft and strong at the same time. He feels like home.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asks, pulling back to search my eyes.

I nod. “Just nervous.”

He narrows his eyes but doesn’t challenge me. Finally he releases me. “Nothing to be nervous about. I took my rift test already. It’s a breeze.”

“Wow. How long was I out?”

“A whole day,” Ethan answers.

That explains the hunger.

“He’s right,” Kara says, taking my hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. “If he can do it, we can do it.”

Ethan leans against the wall. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Kara tightens her auburn ponytail. “Just that either of us could beat you with one hand tied behind our back.”

“Really?”

“Oh yes,” Kara says, her eyes glinting. “Isn’t that right, Ember?”

“Yeah. Sure,” I say. I try to sound confident, but my voice is shaky.

Kara turns her back to Ethan and slips her arm through mine. “Come on, I’ll walk you.”

“I need to go by my room first,” I say quickly.

“Why?” Ethan asks, following us down the hall.

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. What can I say? I’m trying to come up with some excuse, but I’m totally blanking out.

“She got mustard on her shirt, nosy,” Kara chimes in. Leaning her head on my shoulder she whispers, “You sure you’re all right?”

“Yeah,” I whisper back, kissing her on the head. “Thanks for the save.”

“You can pay me back someday.”

* * *

They wait outside my door while I run into my room and, thanks to Kara’s cover, throw on a new shirt and brown leather vest. My fingers run over the board where my keys dangle, making them sing like wind chimes. I close my hand around the smallest of them. It’s newer than most of the others, its brass not yet showing signs of patina. The end is oval with intricate spirals inset. It’s the first key Flynn ever gave me, only days after I arrived at the Institute. I had finally been released from the hospital, and he had just shown me to my room for the first time. Checking to make sure I was all right, something he did frequently while I had been in the hospital, he gave me the key.

I hope my other self knew what she was doing, telling me to bring it. If I lose it, I’ll never forgive myself. Carefully I tuck it into the pocket of my vest and allow myself a glance around my room. If things go badly tonight, I’ll never see it again.

* * *

By the time I reach the rift chamber, I’m hot again, but this time it has nothing to do with quirky environmental controls. I try to keep my hands tucked into the pockets of my trousers, not just to keep them from shaking uncontrollably but also to keep my palms from getting sweaty. Behind me, Ethan marches slowly, and Kara is at my side, clutching my arm so hard I can feel my heartbeat in it. She is staring straight ahead, her face stern. Only the lack of arrogance in her eyes betrays her fears. I can’t blame her. For all Kara’s bluster, this place is her home as much as it is mine. The idea of losing one of my friends—my family? Well, it scares me even more than the idea of washing out myself, and my first solo rift will be the most dangerous.

“Did Marcia test yet?” I ask. “Did she make it?”

I look at Kara out of the corner of my eye. Her silence is my answer. My stomach flip-flops, but Kara looks impassive. Rifters are taught to be vague—to blend in, to never stand out. We have to be forgettable. Ordinary. I doubt Kara could ever accomplish ordinary. She’s gorgeous and smart and one of the best fighters here. She’ll make it if I don’t. She’ll look after Ethan if I can’t. The idea stabs me in the chest like a knife, but I have to let that be enough, because it’s all the reassurance I’m going to get.