Return Once More (34 page)

Oz's prickling gaze remained on me until we left the air lock, but I refused to meet his eyes. He'd been watching me too closely these past days, and though we knew each other's secrets—some of them, anyway--he wasn't my friend. I wasn't sure he was a friend to any of us anymore. He'd been working behind our backs, trusting the Elders, and it was too soon to tell whether he actually believed the bullhonky they were feeding him.

No matter how understanding he'd been about Caesarion, or that he'd shown me the Projector instead of telling the Elders where I'd been and what I'd caused … he hadn't been totally honest with me about anything. There had to be more to the project the Elders had him working on.

Analeigh sensed my unrest, her body rigid and her breathing quick at my side. It was hard to believe Booth and everyone else couldn't hear my heart pounding and the bile sloshing in my stomach. If spending a few days with Caesarion had such massive consequences, who knew what kind of shit storm altering a text like the Bible—a book that literally influenced the daily life of billions of people—would stir up.

Oz, and maybe the Elders, were using the Projector to change life on Earth Before. To alter the time lines that led to the major issues that destroyed society—first, Oz and gun development. Now, religious texts, particularly those of the Judeo-Christian variety were being changed to no longer encourage procreation—which would go a
long
way toward curbing devastating overpopulation.

I dragged Analeigh into our room, even though the dinner alarm had sounded, and waited for the door to slide and lock into place behind us. Sarah had already left—she and Oz had a standing supper schedule and she wouldn't break it, especially not since he'd been gone all day.

“What happened?”

I sank into the chair behind one of the desks. My stomach had never been twisted into more knots and my head pounded, this time not because of fighting the bio-tat's instructions. “Did you hear that kid reading from the Bible
on the beach?”

“Um, I guess?”

“You didn't notice anything weird about the passage?” My voice sounded strangled even to my own ears, the words spilling out in such a jumble they almost felt out of order.

Analeigh's face paled. “Kaia, you're freaking me out. Tell me what's going on.”

The air in our room hummed with unspent energy. Analeigh and I had been friends for long enough that our moods played off each other's, and I sensed her discomfort and the fear mounting in the face of my own. I couldn't do this alone anymore. Oz didn't count, and Caesarion wasn't an option any longer. I needed my best friend.

I sucked in a deep breath. “I think I know what Jonah was talking about, the secret the Elders are keeping. And it's dangerous, like he said.”

Analeigh sank down on her bed, her green eyes never leaving me. “I'm ready.”

“They're trying to find ways to fix Earth Before, based on the largest issues that led to our evacuation.”

Her eyes went wide, her knuckles white as she gripped her bedspread. “How? But. Why?
How?”

The sputtered questions died out as I shook my head. “I don't know, Analeigh, but that Bible passage was missing the command about populating the earth—the part the Church used for hundreds of years to assert God's resistance to birth control. What's one of the primary contributors to the loss of Earth Before's viability?”

“Overpopulation,” she whispered.

“Right. And that's not all. Oz's trips all focus on the development of automatic weaponry—unmitigated violence. That's another major contributor.” I paused, my brain trying to click pieces into place. “They're trying to fix it.”

“How can they? After all these years, drilling into our heads that even the slightest alteration made—allowing ourselves to be seen or heard, acting inappropriately in the past—how can they be sure their actions won't inadvertently wipe us all from existence?” Her voice rose, red circles on her fair cheeks betraying her panic. “That Bible verse, Kaia. How many people won't be born because contraception isn't frowned upon? It could be our grandparents.”

She crossed her arms, grabbing her biceps and squeezing as though she might disappear any moment. Her words echoed my own fears, barely mollified by the knowledge of the Projector or any of Oz's nonsense about fate. If the Elders were altering the past, they had a reason. Intentions.

“There's more. You're going to be pissed at me for not telling you sooner, but you were already so angry, and … I knew you would tell me to stop and I didn't want to.”

“Kaia, I think what's happening with the Elders pretty much overshadows any additional rules you've managed to break. Not that there were many left,” she added dryly.

I told her everything. About all my transgressions with Caesarion, about what Oz had shown me regarding the consequences of my unintended effect on my True's demise. About the Projector, and that Oz refused to admit the danger it could pose.

Her face grew so pale I worried she'd pass out, but as always, Analeigh proved to be stronger than she looked. “How are you not being tracked?”

I got up and rummaged around in a drawer, pinching Jonah's chip between my thumb and forefinger and holding it up. “Jonah gave it to me. He said someone made it for him when he went back to save Rosie.”

“How does it work?” Her eyes hardened and flickered, and the flatness in her voice pricked my curiosity. It almost looked as if she'd seen the chip before.

“I shove it into my wrist tat and it shorts out the tracking. When I get back, I use those two filaments to jerk it out. It hurts, but I'm kind of used to it.”

She didn't say anything for a while, staring at the chip in my palm and chewing on her lip. “Sarah made it.”

“What? We were barely third years when Jonah left.”

“She's brilliant with comps and tech, you know that. And she had a huge crush on Jonah before she found out Oz was her True.”

“Are you sure?”

Analeigh's eyebrows pinched together. “Yes. I remember her showing me drawings, babbling on about crap I couldn't understand, and honestly, I didn't really want to know why she needed to invent such a thing.”

We fell silent, both looking at the tiny piece of tech that had allowed my brother—and me—to change the past. Sarah had never said a word, but surely Jonah had asked her to stay quiet.

“Anyway, after today, I think it's clear they are changing things, and I don't see how that Bible verse could have been removed from every version by accident. Someone went back and changed the original text.”

She nodded. “I agree. And I don't think Oz would do this alone, without an assignment or direction. He's … well, he's always been quiet. Different. But he's not a liar, Kaia. Or a bad person.”

“I really don't care what Oz thinks or doesn't think right now.”

“Right. Sorry. Bigger fish.” Her wide eyes met mine. “Starting with, are you really going to kill Caesarion?”

“I either have to do it or get someone else to do it. And I don't see how the latter is possible.” Nausea bubbled, but I swallowed it. “This is my mess and if I don't fix it, I wipe out my family. My grandfather.”

That statement sunk in and her shoulders slumped. Maybe if my grandfather hadn't been there, someone else would have stepped in to initiate the idea of colonizing Genesis—someone must have because the Projector only showed the loss of twenty or so families from the System, not all of us being sucked into oblivion.

It might have been possible for me to go back and save Caesarion's executioner from the robbery, but messing with more people and events and time lines seemed like a recipe for disaster.

“How are you going to do it?”

“Oz said he can grab me a sonic waver. It will be fast.” I meant to sound confident, but it came out in a wet whisper.

“It won't be without some repercussions. How are the ancients going to explain liquefied organs?”

“The freaking
Bible
just changed. I think organ soup is the least of our worries.” The weak joke did nothing to dull my pain and we sat in silence for several moments, until I recalled the other reason it wasn't going to be as shocking as my best friend thought. “Also, there are people who have seen Historians already. Caesarion's guards called me a
dark one
, and they were scared.”

“Dark one?”

“They have stories about people dressed in black who appear out of thin air, kill without weapons.” I moved to the bed while that sank in, wanting to feel her warmth, the consistency of her presence in my life.

“Oz has killed people?” Now Analeigh looked as though she was going to puke.

“I don't know if it was Oz, but someone has—and it must have happened more than once. I can't imagine that kind of pervasive rumor stemming from a single incident.”

Analeigh reached out and grabbed my hand, smashing it between her palms.

I needed proof of what was going on, or better yet, which Elders we could trust. They couldn't
all
be bad, and the ones who weren't would realize the dangers the Projector posed.

After all, these were the people who made me believe we were better off now, and that our jobs as Historians ensured we would stay that way.

We might be able to get answers, especially if we could convince Oz to help, but the Elders were already monitoring the Archives that could lead an apprentice to stumble upon their little experiment. I found that out when they busted me for following the development of gun production.

“I'm going to sneak out tonight before lockdown. I have to get this Caesarion thing over with as soon as possible.” In spite of all my false strength, the words caught in my throat. Analeigh reached out and squeezed my hand, not saying anything, just being there. I swallowed, siphoning her strength. “I'll be back before breakfast.”

“What can I do? In the meantime?” Her gaze was determined behind her glasses. “We need to compile evidence. Something the Elder Council would have to listen to, even if it's against Zeke.”

“I started collecting information on Oz and his travels. It's hidden in my private file that Sarah set up. I can share it with yours, but you have to be careful. Figure out how to search from a different angle. They'll know if you start looking directly, the way they caught me following the gun files.”

She pursed her lips, fingers absentmindedly unwinding her long braid. “They can't track
every
tangent sprouting off the Bible
.
I can start there, hopefully find evidence of that alteration.”

“Yeah. Maybe check passages that could affect the other major contributors—commercialism, environmental degradation, sectarianism,” I recited from memory. Those were the big five, and of course they were largely interconnected. There were another dozen or so minor causes, all subheadings under those five. Hatred. Hunger. Widening class division. War. Civil Rights.

“Okay. Right. Out of those, the environmental causes are probably the easiest to research and have the widest range of contributors. Maybe I can find something they tried to change there. If they want to fix Earth Before, they're going to need to fix the actual planet, not just the people who lived on it.”

“That's good thinking. Okay.” I leaned in and gave her a quick hug. “Don't get caught, Analeigh. They're not going to believe we
both
accidentally wandered into the wrong archives in the same week. Even if we didn't know they were flagged.”

“With your massive fake crush on Oz, I can't believe Zeke isn't watching your every move already.”

I almost wished Zeke would intercept me on my way out tonight. Then I could pass the buck. Let someone else take the life of the one person I wanted most to live.

But our future was on the line. Everyone's but most of all, my family's. Now that Analeigh was involved, her trajectory tangled with mine. Sarah, too, if she really had invented the chip tech for my brother. I wasn't sure even David Truman's position would excuse Oz if the Elders found out that not only had he shown me the Projector, but that he'd helped hide my illicit travels and forbidden interactions as well.

I may not have liked Oz very much, but I didn't want his blood on my hands. Caesarion's would be enough, even though it had been and would remain on Octavian's hands. A blood sacrifice that would tie the future imperial seat of Rome up in a neat little bow.

All I had to do was murder the boy I loved. Save the world.

*

Egypt
, Earth Before–30 BCE (Before Common Era)

Caesarion looked surprised to see me.

I didn't blame him. I'd toyed with the idea of sneaking up on him and his guards in the middle of the night and using the waver Oz had handed over, but it didn't feel right. My True knew he had to die, but Caesarion valued honor and bravery. Murdering him in his sleep seemed cowardly.

Unworthy.

I'd seen many deaths over the past seven years. Some violent, others calm. The ones that left the bitterest taste were the sucker punches, like Jesse James or Dillinger. We'd watched Caesar get one of the biggest ones of all time mere weeks ago, and his son would not die the same way. Not if I had anything to say about it.

Which, it appeared I did.

They were taking a break from riding, the horses grazing along the banks of a stream and the guards wading in the shallow water. Caesarion stood barefoot on the bank, staring down into the trickle of brackish liquid as though it held the secrets to unlocking the universe. Now, with him alive, breathing in front of me, and looking damn sexy in such a relaxed pose, my courage to do what needed to be done withered.

My lips tried hard to smile when he caught sight of me, but I knew they failed. His handsome, tanned face curled up in a sad grin, dusky blue eyes crinkling at the edges. My heart climbed into my throat and throbbed until he blurred into a human-shaped form that reached out and pulled me against his chest.