Ascent (13 page)

Shannon nods her head like it makes perfect sense. Like all the theories Dr. Thompson comes up with are easy to understand. Not that it matters anyway. I’m pretty sure that we’re all just guinea pigs, people to test out the hypothesis on.

I can’t help but ask, because I have to know. “So what happens after you change your past?”

Dr. Thompson walks down the aisle to where I’m sitting. It feels like a threat. Like he can read my mind and is on to me.

I wonder if mind reading is something they’re working on at IYD. If they can develop a device that can locate vortexes to travel back in time, then I doubt reading my mind is an impossibility.

“You need to carefully follow the directions we provide you before you go back. Doing anything more could be disastrous.” He pauses dramatically, looking at each of us in turn, so that the gravity of what he says sink in. “Have you ever heard of the Butterfly Effect?”

Shannon nods her head. “Yeah, a butterfly flapping its wings can affect something hundreds of miles of way.”

Dr. Thompson returns to the front of the room. “That’s the layman’s version. The Butterfly Effect is based on chaos theory and comes from the work of Edward Lorenz. Essentially, a minor change can have a significant impact on events.” He begins to pace. “For instance, let’s say you go back in time and decide to play in a baseball game you sat out of in the past. Seems pretty minor, right?” I look around the room and everyone is nodding their heads. “Imagine if you hit the ball out of the field and it breaks the windshield of a car in left field. Then let’s say the owner of the car tries to drive home with the broken windshield and some glass flies into his eye and he gets into an accident. The victim in the other car dies. The problem is, the victim is a foreign diplomat on his way to deliver important, top-secret news to his country. Only he can’t deliver it now, sending the country into war. It might sound far-fetched, but it’s not. It’s why you have to follow our directions when you go back.”

I hear what Dr. Thompson is saying, and I don’t care. Violet is the reason I’m here, the only reason I’m pretending to have any interest in the Party. As long as I can make Violet okay again then nothing else matters.

The wheels are already in motion for me.

I need a chance to make a change.

Chapter Eighteen

Matt

Last year the Slider didn’t work and one of the students was lost. The rumors about Norris Chen have been circulating through IYD all summer. It’s what has Rick so freaked out. He knows Norris didn’t come back and he’s worried he’ll be next.

It was a big deal and the feds threatened to shut down IYD for testing a device that wasn’t safe on the general public. Lawyers for IYD argued that the students signed a waiver, releasing the Center from liability, and that everyone that comes to IYD knows the risks associated with the program. Now the Party has too much clout and government officials are joining up.

The lost student’s name was Norris Chen. The loss was really
hush-hush
. I read a small blurb online about the accident. But then everything about Norris Chen was erased. Like he never existed.

Today’s the day we find out the truth about what really happened to the lost student.

The room is quiet. The normal morning buzz is nonexistent. It’s one thing to be excited about traveling to another time. It’s quite another to find out that one of the prior travelers didn’t return.

At 9:30 Dr. Thompson walks to the front of the room. Today he’s wearing – as usual – a white lab coat. His expression is stoic and the look matches the mood in the room.

He picks up the remote and the screen lifts up. We’re looking at last year’s students. Norris Chen is standing in front of us.

We’re about to see what happened.

“Class,” Dr. Thompson starts. The figures from last year move around on the screen behind him, but there’s no sound. They are just bodies moving and nothing else. “It’s time to talk about the most important aspect of the Slider.” He motions back to the screen behind him. “Rule number 2: You can only change what’s listed on your instruction manual. Beware of the Butterfly Effect.” He looks around the room, giving each of us a hard stare. “It is imperative that you don’t do anything outside the guidelines. Last year we lost a student. We still don’t know for sure what happened, but it almost ended up shutting down the entire program. We can’t have anything like that happen again. Marvin Winn has put million of dollars into this program and we need to make sure everything goes exactly as planned. We’ve gone back over the tape more than a hundred times. We have a shortened video of that day. It’s an example of what
not
to do during the Slide. Let’s take a look.”

Dr. Thompson lifts the remote and points it at the screen. Last year’s students start to move. They’re out in an open field, holding what appears to be an older version of the Slider. Norris Chen was a senior at Bellevue High School in Washington State, a kid whose dad worked at NASA and had a full ride at MIT. He was the exact kind of guy who would be perfect for a summer at IYD testing one of the biggest breakthroughs in science ever.

Only he slid into the past and didn’t come back.

“What you are about to see is our missing student locate a vortex. He programs his destination and disappears. This is the last time anyone saw Norris Chen. We have no idea what happened to him after stepping into the past. We’ve done research to see if it’s possible he’s shown up somewhere else, and nothing. This cannot happen again. It’s imperative that everyone we send into the slide comes back. If we have anymore unexplainable accidents, the program will be shut down.”

Dr. Thompson’s words bounce off the walls.

No more incidents.

But what if I decide not to come back? Then what will happen?

Will they shut down the program because of me?

I can’t mess anybody’s life up any more than I already have. My time at IYD is to make things better. Not worse. Dr. Thompson said they can’t have any more unexplainable incidents. But what if the incident was explainable and I didn’t come back on purpose?

But how would they ever know?

I glance at Farrah on the other side of the room. I’m sure I know why Farrah is here. She’s looking to go back for the same reason I am.

Redemption.

A second chance.

Maybe Farrah’s the one person I can trust with my past.

The video shows Norris program the Slider. The room fills with gasps as a wavy hole in the air appears. Norris goes running into the waves. You can almost see the past in the waves. Like time could jump out of the hole and into the present. Norris enters the waves and disappears. It’s the last time he’s seen.

“Class, what you just witnessed was the last time someone entered a vortex. Rick will be our first successful traveler next week, followed by Matt. We need to make sure that we have everything set up right so you can return. We
cannot
lose another student.”

“How is it possible that he just disappeared?” Rick asks.

“That’s the discussion for today. We believe that one of two things happened last year. Either Norris went back in time and tried to change something, or that something went wrong as he programmed the Slider and he ended up in a parallel universe.”

“A parallel universe?”

“Yes. Several different universes co-exist. One of the possibilities is that Norris got lost in time and ended up in a parallel universe and wasn’t able to find his way back. That’s why he his existence was scrubbed here. But we believe the most likely thing is he tried to change something and caused a wrinkle in time that affected his return.”

Silence.

Everyone takes in what Dr. Thompson said. I can tell people are scared. If something goes wrong, going back in time threatens to erase us from existence. Or send us to a parallel universe.

I’m not scared.

There’s nothing for me here.

I want to go back.

***

Dr. Thompson continues with his lecture. Winn Theory states that time is happening all around us. I look around the room. I don’t see time everywhere. All I see is what is happening around me. There’s no evidence that anyone can skip around the time continuum.

Shannon raises her hand for, like, the one hundredth time. The girl is filled with questions and curiosities

“If time is happening everywhere, then what happens when you die?”

Dr. Thompson claps his hands together. He looks pleased. “Another good question, Shannon. I’m glad you have your thinking cap on.” He looks around the room. “Think about it: if time is happening everywhere. If there are universes parallel to the one we live in now, then you never die. You’re always living somewhere.”

You never die.

I think of Violet. Is she alive somewhere?

“But you do die,” I interrupt. Everyone turns around and looks at me. Like there’s an invisible voice speaking from the back of the room or something. Or like they forgot I’m here. I shift in my seat under everyone’s eyes. I don’t like to be the center of attention. It’s been a long time since I wanted anyone to even notice that I’m in a room.

“Yes, good point, Matt. Death is the one thing that everyone has in common with time. You are born, you live the trajectory of your life, and then your time ends. That’s the reality that we know. But, somewhere else on the time continuum, you are still alive. Every second that ever existed is happening somewhere. It’s making the jump from now until then that’s the hard part.”

I consider what he says. It both makes sense and doesn’t. If time is happening all around us, and we’re always alive somewhere, then why do we get so upset at death?

“Then why’s it so hard when someone dies?”

“Good question. Because on the plane of existence that you are conscious of, you have no way of reaching out to the dead. You don’t know where they are, nor do you have the ability to reach out to them, but you shouldn’t feel a complete loss when someone close to you dies. They’re still alive in another point in time.”

“But they will die the same way each time?”

“Yes, Matt, that’s the hard part.”

Dr. Thompson continues his lecture while I try to wrap my mind around what he said. I try to picture every moment of my life happening in space. It’s invisible to me.

The one thing I can’t imagine is living the accident over and over again or living death in a loop; the replay of a life with so many possibilities that’s ruined abruptly.

I can’t let Violet stay there, having her life snuffed out over and over again.

I need to give her a second chance.

Chapter Nineteen

Farrah–Kate

Except for the glow of the TV, the room is dark. I’m sitting on the couch in the common area with my knees pulled up to my chest, watching the scene I’ve seen a thousand times when I catch a movement out of the corner of my eye. The hair stands up on the back of my neck as I search my peripheral vision for the source of the movement. I thought everyone was in bed. The last thing I need is for my roommates to see me watching this movie again.

Especially Matt.

When I don’t see anything I look around, searching. The room is empty and quiet. But then I hear something and this time I’m sure it’s not my imagination. I turn my head towards the source of the noise and I’m met with the real reason I came to Nevada in the middle of the summer to become an apprentice for a political party: Marvin Winn.

“Hello,” he says. He’s standing in the shadows but I can make out his diminutive figure. Up close he looks older, shorter. His hair is greyer than in the pictures, and he’s bent over, as if gravity is trying to pull him back down from where he came.

I want to speak but my tongue’s stuck to the bottom of my mouth. I keep trying to formulate words but my mouth just can’t conjugate them. I try one more time: “Pfft…”

“Cat got your tongue, girl?”

“Uh … no…”

“Say something then.”

“Pfft…” Maybe the cat
does
have my tongue.

He steps closer to me. “Are you a mute? We don’t allow mutes at IYD. If you can’t speak I’m going to have to send you home. Only healthy youths are allowed at IYD. Anyone with special needs is expelled from the institute.” He comes closer and stands right in front of me, blocking my view of the TV. My heart beats in my ears and I shake my head to make the noise go away. He’s short, like my height, his heavily wrinkled skin reminds me of my neighbor’s Shar Pei, and he smells stale, like a visit to my grandmother’s house.

He tilts his head to the side, waiting for me to say something. He keeps coming closer and I realize that if I don’t say something soon, he’ll be standing on top of me.

Finally, I spit, “Hi. I’m Farrah Ryan.”

“Yes, I already know who you are. What are you doing up so late? Don’t you have class in the morning?”