Time's Echo: A CHRONOS Files Novella (10 page)

Ron mumbles something I can't
quite make out.

"True," Simon says.
"I should know better than to doubt him, but I did. It was a lapse of
faith. I prayed about it."

I hold in a snort. Simon and
prayer aren't well-acquainted.

"I have a hard time
disregarding Sister Prudence's wishes in this case," Ron says. "Isn't
there another way? Are we certain that this is the woman in the Prophecy?"

I don't know Ron well, but he's
always struck me as a lackey. I'm a little surprised to see him showing some
backbone.

Simon doesn't sound pleased when
he responds. "I think Brother Cyrus made that quite clear. Listen, he gave
Prudence the chance to solve this herself. She either chose not to do it or she
bungled it."

There's a long pause, and then Ron
says, "Prudence seems to think she's in danger if you do this."

"Then maybe we should be
questioning her faith, or at the very least, her judgment. Do you really think
that Cyrus would put her—would put any of us, but especially her—in danger?
We're his most valuable assets."

There's a pause, and then Simon
adds, "I mean, we've all seen how Prudence has been the past few years.
It's sad that she's falling apart, but it's the reality we face, Ron. We
certainly can't trust her to lead us, especially in these times where every
decision is critical."

"Fine.
I won't say anything to her if that's Brother Cyrus's
final decision. Are you planning to do it now, or after the other arrangements
are made?"

"After. I don't see why this
would cause a major shift in the timeline. Either way, I'd rather wait until we
have everything else synched up. Pru has people watching both houses, and I've
been told the grandma never leaves. The girl's in school, however. It'll be
easier to grab her before she gets good with the key. The flip side is that she
probably won't have the information we need. But I'm guessing we can lure
grandma out into the open if we have her as bait."

∞

Washington,
DC

April 6, 2015– 3:30 p.m.

There are forty-seven active
stable points in the DC region in 2015. I knew that watching through the key to
see when Simon would pop into one of those locations wasn't a valid option.
Still, I tried it for the better part of a day while I sat in my wretchedly hot
apartment, trying to get some rest so that I'd be recharged for whatever I may
face when I eventually go in.

Simon might farm this task out to
some underling. Given his crack about Prudence botching the job, however, I think
there's a decent chance he'll handle it personally. If I knew exactly when he
was going in, I might be able to scan all forty-seven locations, but I'm not
even sure of the day, let alone the hour.

I considered jumping back to the
Metro station where Simon and I boarded the train and watching from an
adjoining car. The problem is
,
there were only a few
people on the platform that day. I have a hat and sunglasses, and could
probably round up a coat or something, but disguises aren't foolproof. Simon
might spot me. Or I might spot myself. I'd rather spare myself the headache and
confusion.

The easier path is to find Kate
online. She often complained that tracking someone down is much more difficult
in my day, so I'm going to put her favorite invention to the test. If Kate has
only recently connected with Katherine, as Simon noted, then she must be here
in DC with one or both of her parents. If I find them, I'll find her.

The alcove beneath the spiral
staircase at the Ford Theatre is a stable point from 1863 to 2092. I wait until
a tour group passes, then blink in and head for the exit. There's a line of
people against the wall outside, waiting for admission. I scan the faces,
looking for someone who seems reasonably friendly, and finally settle on a
young couple watching something on the woman's phone.

My accent is faint, but it's still
there, and for once, I count it as an asset.

"Excuse me. I'm over from
Ireland and I'm looking for someplace with a public computer and internet.
Money is tight, so it would help if it were free."

The last part is true. The money
that would have housed and fed me for months in 1905 won't last the day here,
although I suspect there are a few coins in my pocket that would fetch far more
than face value if I could find a coin dealer.

The woman says, "Um…maybe MLK
Library? Two blocks down. It's on G Street. You can't miss it."

"He'll need a library card,
Jen."

They discuss whether that's
actually true, until the woman eventually concedes that yes, I'd likely need a
library card.

"What are you looking
for?" the man asks.

I put together a quick cover story
about stolen luggage that contained my laptop, my phone, most of my money and
the contact information for the two cousins who live here.

The woman shrugs, pulling a small
computer out of her shoulder bag. "We're stuck here for the next ten or
fifteen minutes anyway."

Ten minutes later, with a little
assistance from the two of them, I've learned that there are fifteen women
named Deborah Pierce in the DC area. I weed out twelve because they're way
older than Kate's mom should be, and jot down the three remaining addresses.
Two of them are within a three-mile radius of a university. I search those two
universities for history faculty, and learn that Georgetown has a professor
named Deborah Pierce, so I'm fairly confident that the address on O Street is
correct.

I start to run the same check for
Harry Keller, and have just discovered that there are five in the area, when
the line starts moving.

DC streets are fairly easy to
navigate. The state named streets and a few others can trip you up, since they
span out like spokes of a wheel, but the numbered and lettered streets are laid
out in a grid. I catch the subway and take it to
Dupont
Station, which exits onto Q Street. A few minutes later, I turn onto O Street
and locate the address—a blue row house with a small porch in front. I set a
stable point across the street, trying to get a decent view of the door without
being too obvious with the key. Then I continue walking down the block until I
spot a small alley between buildings. Once I've set a second point there, I
jump back to Boston 1905 and wait, watching the front of the blue house from my
room.

A woman on a bike arrives maybe
twenty minutes later. It might be Kate's mom. I've never met her, however, so
that's based only on the photograph Kate carried.

Another half hour passes. The
sidewalk is more crowded now with people coming home from work. I don't even
recognize Kate until she's halfway up the stairs, because she's with another girl.
They're both wearing a white uniform, with loose trousers and a long shirt.

But it's her. It's her walk, and
she's still carrying the backpack she had on the Metro.

I have to talk to her alone. It'll
be tough enough to explain without someone else chiming in to make her question
what I'm saying. And I've no idea how much her mother knows, let alone the
other girl. My Kate still hadn't told her mother about CHRONOS after three
years of working with Katherine, and even if some things are different now, I suspect
the personal relationships are pretty much the same.

I watch as the girls disappear
into the house and then I scan through in thirty-second increments. Someone
shows up maybe a half hour later with a large red package, but it's just food
delivery. While I wouldn't put it past Simon to taint the food so that they all
pass out, a quick fast-forward reveals that no one shows up to cart out bodies,
and I manage to relax a little.

When the lights in the townhouse
go out, I skip ahead to daybreak. About an hour later, the girls come out. Kate
is in the same blue and green plaid uniform she wore on the subway, her hair
pulled back into a tight knot.

The dark-skinned girl taps Kate on
the shoulder and heads off to the left, while Kate takes a right. By the time I
blink into the alley location and make it to the sidewalk, she's on the next
block. I consider jumping back a few minutes, but
it's
three or four blocks to the Metro and my legs are much longer. I'll catch up
before we reach the station.

Except I don't. She must be late,
because she's moving at a full run most of the time. I cross the street,
thinking she'll have to make a left turn at some point to catch the train at Q
Street. She doesn't, so she either knows a short cut or she's going to a
different station.

As it turns out, I'm lucky to even
keep her in sight. Kate makes it through a walk sign that I miss. I dart out as
soon as there's a slight break in the traffic, triggering an angry horn blast.
She's still halfway down the escalator when I get to the
Dupont
entrance on 19
^th
.

I tell myself that it helps to
know the route, but yeah, maybe she's in slightly better shape, too, because
I'm huffing by the time I reach the gates. Then it takes two tries for the
reader to take my pass, probably because I'm keeping one eye on which way Kate
is going, rather than watching what I'm doing. Once it goes through, I shove
the turnstile and take off after her.

Kate is already on the platform
before I step onto the escalator. She's walking along the edge of the track,
peering through the windows of the train to find a car with an empty seat. Four
cars down, she pauses and enters through the middle door.

I could have made it, but I'm
stopped dead in my tracks when Simon steps from behind a concrete pillar.
 Two men in suits, who look like they smash people for a living, ooze out
of the shadows.

Was Simon scanning the platforms
through the key to see where she'd arrive? Or was he following her? Did he see
me
following her?

I'm pretty sure the answer to the
last question is no, or else he would have sent at least one of the two human
pylons in my direction. And he's not expecting me. As far as Simon or any of
the Cyrists know, I'm stuck in Boston 1905 without a CHRONOS key.

They move toward the rear door of
the car that Kate's in, and as they're walking through the door, Simon turns
toward one of the men to say something. He's wearing the same stupid Aspire
t-shirt he wore last time we rode the Metro, so I'm guessing it's still the
same day for him.

I don't know if it's seeing the
t-shirt, or if something else causes the memory to click into place, but I
suddenly remember him underlining the word
BINGO
in his notebook.

He already
knew
Kate was
going to be on the train, otherwise he wouldn't have known which station to
wait at.

What he
didn't
know is that
she'd have the book on her.

It's the diary he's after, not
Kate.

I duck into the fifth car just as
the door is closing and begin pushing myself through the standing riders toward
the glass window separating this car from the one carrying Kate, Simon, and his
two thugs. My heart is pounding, both from the mad rush getting here and the
fact that Kate is in that car with Simon. I keep chanting in my head that he
only wants the diary. He's not planning to hurt her. And if by chance he does,
I'll jump back and stop it, bodyguards or no.

The thick panes of glass or
plastic or whatever it is between the cars are distorting my view, but it looks
like there's a blue mark on the hand of one of Simon's companions. Even though
it's blurry, I think it's a lotus tattoo, which probably means he's Cyrist
Temple security. I lean a bit to one side and see Kate, holding on to one of
the center poles. Then a fat guy halfway down the car shifts his weight to the
other foot and I can't see her at all.

According to the subway map near
the door, it's eight stops to the station where Simon and I boarded yesterday.
She was already on the train, examining the diary, when we entered. I've no
idea how long it takes to travel those stops. I can't imagine Simon waiting if
it's more than fifteen minutes. Not if he sees a chance to swipe the diary
before then.

So I just wait and watch. The
train begins to clear out a tiny bit two stops up, and Kate slides into an aisle
seat near the middle of the car, her back facing me. She puts in her earplugs
and slumps down in the seat.

A few minutes later, though, Kate
sits up abruptly, her shoulders tight. She pulls out a mirror and seems to be
fixing her hair, but she's tilting the mirror around, probably to get a view of
the people behind her. She must have recognized Simon.

I hear an announcement for the
next stop. After a few passengers get off, Kate bolts for the middle door.
Simon is right behind her.

I shove past two women trying to
board and run to the next car, darting around the two security guys who are
already outside the train. The automated voice chimes, "Doors closing,
doors closing." I enter, just in time to see Kate flying backward. Simon's
in the doorway, clutching her pack with one hand while he activates his key
with the other. He takes another step back, then there's a flash of green and
Simon is gone.