Time Trapped (10 page)

September 3, 1311, 10:22
A.M.

Yunnan province, China
Operation High Tea

W
e land in a forest. I'm only just out of my time freeze when Abbie walks over with her two recruits lined up neatly behind her.

“Is your group ready, Cale?” she says.

Why does it always seem that I'm playing catch-up? We all arrived at the same time. I guess Abbie's just naturally more organized than I am.

I look around. Dmitri is crouched down, staring at some bug, and Razor is leaning against a tree trunk. I suppose it might be possible for them to form a straight line behind me, but I don't see it happening in my lifetime.

“Ready,” I chirp.

“Great. Everyone pay attention. Pu'er tea is a marvel of ancient China,” Abbie begins, reciting from the mission data uploaded to our mindpatches. “The leaves come from trees that can tower eighty feet high, and that have trunks three feet wide.

“For a long time, no one knew how they picked the highly-prized leaves from the uppermost branches,” she continues. “By one account, the best climbers in all of China were invited by the emperor to come to the Forbidden City. They would train day and night, scaling towers that were built to the same height as the trees. Some of the climbers perished when they fell from the great heights. When picking season came, the emperor entered the great forest and stood and watched as the remaining climbers ascended the huge trees.”

It's a good story. I look around and see that Abbie now has Dmitri's attention, as well as Judith's and Gerhard's. Wait. Where's Razor?

A bead of sweat rolls down my back. No need to panic. I'm sure she's close by. After all, where could she possibly go?

I will myself to relax. She's probably just gone to pee. Okay, so I don't really believe that. Still, it's no problem. What we didn't tell the recruits is that there's another reason they've been asked to keep their wristbands on. So that Abbie and I can track them if they get lost.

“Dmitri, where's Razor?” I ask.

“I believe she said that she was going for a stroll,” he says.

“A stroll? This is no place for a stroll,” I say.

Then I notice something. Dmitri has two wristbands. The first is where it should be—on his wrist. The other he is holding in his left hand. As we talk, he makes a clumsy attempt to hide it.

“What are you doing with two wristbands?” I ask.

“Something,” he says mysteriously.

I feel a headache coming on. I'm never going to make it as a camp counselor. “Whose wristband is it?”

“Mine now,” he says.

There's a war going on inside my brain. Half of me wants to throttle this kid or at least shake him until the whole truth comes out. The other half is saying forget him and find Razor before she gets into trouble or, worse, gets me into trouble.

“Which way did she go?” I ask.

“Thirty-seven degrees west.”

“Show me.”

“She went that way,” he says, pointing off to the left.

“Wait right here,” I say, which sounds ridiculous as soon as it comes out of my mouth. “And don't lose her wristband.” I really should just grab it from him. Company property and all that. But I don't think he's going to hand it over easily, and there's no time now to argue with him.

I roll my eyes at Abbie. “Back in a jiffy.”

At least I hope so. I start through the trees, calling Razor's name.

No answer.

“Razor, we're leaving now!” I shout.

Nothing. Only birds twittering.

I head deeper into the forest. There's a nice breeze blowing, and it carries the scent of pine. If I wasn't preoccupied with finding Razor, I might actually enjoy being here.

“Heading back now,” I yell into the forest, “for lunch. There's nothing to eat here. You're going to starve.”

“No I'm not, Jack,” says a voice behind me. “I scored a bag of peanuts.”

I whip my head around. Razor is sitting on the trunk of a fallen tree, munching peanuts.

“What do you think you're doing?”

“Snack break,” she says.

I stare at her. I don't like being this angry. “Why did you give Dmitri your wristband?”

“I didn't give it to him.”

I frown. “Well, then, how did he get it?”

“Sold it to him.” She smiles. “Got a good price for it too. One bag of salted peanuts that he had on him when he was snatched and future consideration.”

I skip asking her how she can sell something that doesn't belong to her. “What's he going to do with it?”

“None of my business. But if I were you, he's the one I'd be watching. The kid looks dangerous.”

My anger is rising again. “C'mon, let's go.”

As we make our way back, a tremendous ripping sound fills the air.

“Abbie, did you hear that?” I say over her mindpatch.

No answer.

“C'mon,” I say to Razor and start sprinting through the trees toward the source of the sound.

“Cool,” she says. “He did it!”

There's shouting coming from up ahead. We burst into the clearing. Abbie and the recruits are gathered around a large crater that I'm certain wasn't there a few minutes ago.

Dmitri is nowhere in sight. Razor is smiling. My headache is in full bloom.

I gaze into the hole, half expecting to see a meteor or small alien spacecraft. But there is only a tangle of roots. If I didn't know better, I'd say there was a tree there a minute ago and that something huge tore that tree right from its roots. But what could possibly do that? And where did the tree go?

Judith recites,

“Swallowed up whole

by the chicken fingers of desire.”

That about sums it up.

“What happened here?” I ask Abbie.

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” she says. “It was someone from your group who must have made that hole.”

“With what? Her hands?”

Razor is snickering beside me. She knows something.

I glare at her. “Spill it.”

“All right. Don't get all hot and bothered,” Razor says. “I'm as surprised as you are. I never thought he could pull it off.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Dim. I guess I'll have to find a new nickname for him now, since he's not dim at all. In fact, I think he's a genius.”

“What did Dmitri do?” I ask.

“Isn't it obvious?” Razor says. “There used to be a big tree in that hole. It's not there anymore. And neither is Dim. Two plus two, Jack. C'mon.”

If she's saying what I think she is, that's impossible. No one can move something that big through time.

“Where?” I ask.

“Pay me first,” Razor says.

Abbie turns to me and says, “What is she talking about?”

“Have you got ten bucks on you, Abbie? I'll pay you back. Promise.”

Abbie glares at me. “You've got some serious explaining to do, mister.” But she digs into her pocket and hands me a ten. I fork it over to Razor.

She stares at the watermark on the bill for a moment and then sniffs it. This is maddening.

“Okay. Now where and when did he go with the tree?” I ask her again.

“Times Square, 8:15
A.M.
, October 5, 2061.”

“How? No, forget how. Why?” I ask.

“That was our bet. Frankly, I didn't think he could do it. That tree must weigh a ton.”

My cheeks are burning. Even if he could move it, I don't see how the tree could have ended up at Times Square. The default on the wristbands was the Compound courtyard. Unless he did something to the wristband . . .

Abbie turns to me. “You'd better go find him, Cale, and when you do, the snatch will still have to be completed.” Her voice is controlled, but I can hear the tension behind her words. This mission is going from bad to worse, and when the punishment comes down, Abbie and I are likely to get the brunt of it.

“Do you mean no one snatched leaves from the tree yet?” I ask.

“Gerhard wouldn't do it,” says Abbie. “He's afraid of heights. Judith said she wanted to stretch first. When she was finally ready, that's when the rumbling started.”

This is turning into a bad day.

I tap in the sequence for Times Square. Dmitri's got a lot of explaining to do.

Just as I start to fade away, a hand grips my wrist.

“Razor! What are you—”

“I'm coming with you. I got to see the proof before I pay him.”

There must be enough of me still visible, because she says, “Turn that frown upside down, Jack. This is gonna be fun!”

I don't say anything. Fun is keeping my remaining fingers and toes. Fun is staying out of Uncle's office. Fun is anything but what I'm about to do.

October 5, 2061, 8:17
A.M.

Times Square
New Beijing (formerly New York City)
Operation High Tea

W
e land in a doorway on Forty-third Street. Our arrival doesn't draw any attention, because everyone else is looking at the towering tree that seems to have grown right out of the pavement next to the sleek new Mandarin Oriental hotel.

“It looks good there,” Razor says as soon as she comes out of her time freeze.

I have to agree with her. I'm no landscape designer. But the tree does improve the look of the place . . . humanizes it somehow.

“Do you see him?” I ask Razor.

“Not yet,” she says. “But look, there's a cute little monkey!”

I follow where she's pointing and see it. About a third of the way up the tree. If I read its facial expression correctly, that monkey is terrified.

“We've got to get it back to China,” I say.

“Just stick it in the zoo,” she says.

“I'm talking about the tree.”

The next moment, I see Dmitri. He's standing near the foot of the tree. About twenty feet away from him, a police officer is cordoning off the area with yellow police tape. Other officers are removing people who are inside the cordoned-off area.

“C'mon,” I say, ducking under the tape and breaking into a run.

Razor makes it to Dmitri first and claps him on the back. “Nice job, Dim. You win the bet. Here.” She forks over the ten that I gave her in China.

“Ha! You did not believe I could extricate and temporarily relocate it.”

“That's true,” Razor admits. “But I'm a believer now.”

“We've got to get that tree out of here,” I say, my voice raspy.

“Wait,” Razor says. “We gotta do the snatch first.”

“I don't think that's a—”

Before I can finish the sentence, Razor begins to moan and swoon.

A policeman rushes over right as she falls to the ground. At the same time, Dmitri slips under the police tape and begins running toward the entrance to the Mandarin Oriental. I start after him but give up when I realize I won't be able to stop him.

By now, a small crowd has gathered around Razor.

“Father, is that you?” Razor says, in a sweet and helpless voice that I can hardly believe is coming from the same person.

“I'm not your father, son,” answers the policeman. Then he turns to the crowd. “Is anyone here related to this boy?”

That's my cue to step forward. It's tempting to just hang back for a few seconds and see if anyone else wants her, but I suppose that would be cruel. Cruel or not, she owes me.

Instead I sigh and yell over the crowd, “Hey, Ray! Dad and I have been looking everywhere for you.”

There's not a great deal of physical resemblance between us. Razor is black-haired and has gray eyes. I, on the other hand, have mousy brown hair and brown eyes. But this is New York—correction, New Beijing, 2061. Families come in all shapes and sizes.

“Are you his brother?” the officer on the scene shouts back.

No, I want to say. I'm just the guy who kidnapped her to avoid being sent to the Barrens again, which is not such a bad place if you like scorpions, snakes, intense heat and dying of thirst. But having known her for a day, I'm already wondering whether I should have just volunteered straight away to return to the Barrens instead.

“Yeah,” I yell.

“Let him through, people,” he says, and I smile gratefully.

“Does he have a medical condition?” he asks me, nodding toward Razor, and without skipping a beat, I say, “Paininassosis.”

I say it real fast so that it sounds like a true condition. Who knows, maybe in some country of the world it's a real disease.

“Don't worry,” I say in a loud voice. “So long as no one breathes his air, they probably won't catch it.”

With that, except for a few die-hard gawkers, the rest of the crowd backs up in a hurry. Even the police officer takes two steps back.

Some movement near the top of the tree catches my attention.

There's a person leaning out a window on the eighth floor of the Mandarin Oriental, reaching toward the branches of the tree. Dmitri!

Razor moans again.

“Thank you, Officer, I can take it from here,” I say. “He's just having one of his spells. They only last a few minutes and then he's as good as new. But it's important that I get him to a shady spot quickly. Can you let us go under that tree for a few minutes so he can rest?”

He looks around and then back at us. Indecision is written all over his face.

“I'm not supposed to . . . No one's supposed to go near the tree . . .”

Razor writhes in agony.

“Oh, trust me, we won't touch it,” I say, reassuring him. “It's only for the shade.”

“Well, okay. But only for a couple of minutes.”

“Thank you so much, Officer . . . Germanakos,” I say, reading the name off his badge.

He helps me get Razor to her feet, then steps away and resumes his position near the police tape.

“Nice work, Jack. Especially that bit about my medical condition.” She makes as if she's going to faint again and then laughs.

If I wasn't so worried about the punishment that is bound to come down on us because of this botched mission, I might laugh with Razor. But all I can think about are the bad things that will happen once Uncle finds out how a simple training run turned into major headlines. Maybe we'll get a reprieve because it's the first training mission . . . but I'm not counting on it.

“I have them!” Dmitri shouts, running up to us. Breathless, he loosens the drawstrings of a small pouch and plucks out some green leaves.

“All right,” I say. “Now, the next thing is to take the tree back.”

Dmitri shrugs. “It is quite possible. But I will first have to reconfigure the wristbands for the return trip. That will take between three and seven minutes.”

Reconfigure? Uncle is going to reconfigure his teeth and probably mine too, if he doesn't get this tree back to where it belongs, pronto.

“Look, we can't wait that long. We've got to go right now,” I say. “We'll use my patch.”

As soon as I say it, though, I realize I have no idea how we're going to do it. It's one thing to timeleap holding someone else's hand or wrist. But it's quite another to bring a whole tree through time. What if it lands on us by accident? Or doesn't come at all?

“No need to,” says Dmitri. “I've managed to shorten the prep time considerably, and I'm just . . . about . . . finished.”

I take a look around. I wouldn't say the tree looks at home standing in the middle of Times Square, but in the short time it's been here, entire industries have already sprung up around it. One guy is selling T-shirts showing a huge apple falling from the tree with the caption
BIG
TREE
IN
THE
BIG
APPLE
. Another guy is selling Big Tree toothpicks, and yet another, maple sugar from the Big Tree, which is quite a trick, since it's not a maple tree at all.

A couple of cops are walking briskly toward us. I guess they didn't speak to Officer Germanakos. Or maybe they did, and they've already had their shots for paininassosis, so they're not afraid of catching it.

“Do it, Dmitri!” I shout.

“I can't,” he says. “I need to be touching the tree.”

“You there!” shouts one of the officers. “Stand away from that tree.”

“Grab the tree, Dmitri!” I shriek.

Dmitri glances from me to the police officers and then makes a beeline for the tree.

Razor and I race after him.

The officers sprint after us.

The last thing I hear before I leave 2061 is Razor's husky voice.

“See you, suckers!”