Phantom Universe (39 page)

Sand. Screaming. All of it dissolves as Summer finally goes completely limp on the ground.

CHAPTER
47: MINDY

16 years old

Dreams are an odd thing, that’s for sure. Summer swears that she’s been taken by a hoard of people in red cloaks, but it’s clearly a dream because her nose tells her otherwise. The musky smell of books greets her like a friend as she opens her eyes. Overly bright lights make her squint and automatically reach up to shade herself. Except . . . she’s been tied down—she knows this immediately from other “encounters” in her life. Ones she prefers to forget forever. Now she’s not so sure it was all a dream after all. Maybe she really has been taken. Her eyes adjust and continue to dart around as she tries to determine her whereabouts; she quickly figures out where the book smell’s coming from. There’s a shelf close to her full of books, though she’s too far away to read them.

A soft, tentative voice breaks her frantic eye and neck movements (since that seems to be the only part of her she’s able to move). “Hello Summer.” The woman has a light British accent. “Please don’t panic.”

Too late
, Summer thinks wryly.

The face of a woman hovers over her, and Summer freezes. Not just her movements, but her heart, her breath . . . everything. Light, brown hair (almost blonde it’s so light) frames the face of a woman who looks to be in her late thirties. Her blue eyes sparkle with unspoken knowledge, but these things are all superficial compared to what makes Summer freeze. It’s the face of someone she knows—someone she thinks about every day—someone she knew
before
her abduction all those years ago. It’s the only face that could possibly soothe her in a moment like this. It’s her mother . . . her mum. She tries to reach up to touch the face of this woman, but her wrists meet the resistance of her already forgotten restraints.

It’s not possible. Is it?
After all these years, could she possibly stumble upon her mother in such strange and odd (and absolutely terrifying) circumstances? Words bubble to her lips but, even now, they fail to escape. Maybe she’s just not capable of speech anymore. Maybe it’s just been so long now that it’s impossible.

“
Summer,” whispers Mindy quietly. There’s a long pause as they stare at each other and absorb each other’s presence. Then she adds, “I’m sorry.” Mindy’s eyes pool with tears that cascade down her smooth cheeks. She brushes Summer’s hair away from her face and sticks a needle in Summer’s arm. It stings, but she’s still in shock from seeing her mother.

The world falls away like rocks tumbling down a mountainside. As the darkness consumes and devours her senses, there’s one thing that continues to work and function: her mind. There’s one memory that surfaces like an intense tide, pulling her into the realm of something sinister. It’s one of those moments in time that really has no relevance until you relive the memory and realize just how important it
truly
is. And how spine-chilling.

As a small child, Summer Waverly saw doctors often. She was so used to it that it became a routine thing—nothing out of the ordinary. On one of those occasions, Summer overhears something that meant nothing to her then, but now makes her heart flutter uncontrollably.

“
Everything’s looking well. She’s ahead of schedule—far ahead of Julian,” says one of the male doctors as he pulls the stethoscope from his ears and absentmindedly hands Summer a red lollipop. “It’s been ten years—every step the Hourglass Project makes seems to only throw us back several more. If she’s ahead and he’s behind . . . perhaps if we have to terminate we can find a middle ground between the data from both our subjects?” says the male doctor, obviously frustrated.

“
Yes. This worries me,” says another female doctor while sticking a pencil behind her ear and clutching her clipboard with white knuckles. “Do you think we’ve miscalculated . . .” she trails off and gives a sidelong glance at Summer who’s only three and happily sucking on her red lollipop. She looks oblivious, but she’s ever the studious observer, constantly soaking up everything around her.

“
Perhaps we should take this conversation somewhere else?” suggests the male doctor. “We shouldn’t talk about Jul—our other subject in front of—”

They exchange a worried glance before moving out of Summer’s hearing range. There’s a curtain pulled between her and another silent patient silhouetted on a bed, sitting upright.
The patient’s small, probably close to my age
, she guesses. In the corner of the large, white room, her mother whispers lowly to the doctors and constantly glances between Summer and the mysterious patient on the other side of the curtain with an anxious expression. Summer’s understanding of the situation wasn’t as well developed, but now that she’s older, she appreciates that her observant nature has always been a part of her.

Maybe she isn’t the only one in this predicament. Perhaps this other “subject,” Julian, is in her shoes too. Who is he? Is he like her? Was he the silent patient on the other side of that curtain? And why, of all people, is her mum working with the Secret Clock Society to capture her when her mum once ran from them? There are too many questions floating around in Summer’s mind. Soon her memories fade away like wisps of smoke in the air, and all she has left is the blackness. And time. Too much time.

Alone
.

Again.

CHAPTER 48: ZHAR

16 years old

The Exodus brought on many issues for the Secret Clock Society due high number of members disappearing, though enough members were unaffected so that they were able to grow in numbers and size. This made Doctor Zhar’s shift into the future easy. But that’s where it ends. She’s been working for the Society for thirty years. She was there when the Subject—Summer—was created, and when the decision was made to terminate the Subject. Hell, Doctor Zhar raised her hand during the meeting when they voted yes for termination. It’s not that she has anything against the girl, it’s just that Summer’s a subject—not a person. She was given a name for identity’s sake, not so one of the Society’s members could get the “warm and fuzzies” for her. You can’t have “those types” of feelings towards a subject. Summer was made, not born. There’s no genetic makeup, no blood that would match the types found in humans.

The thing is? Doctor Zhar can’t help but begin to let “those types” of feelings leak into her system. Except she’s on the other end of the spectrum. Ultimately, Summer’s turned out to be the number one problem causer for the Hourglass Project (Doctor Zhar’s project—her baby). The real dilemma, though, is that Summer can’t be controlled. She’s a wild card—but that’s the price you pay for something as scientifically advanced as a time machine.

With thirty years of research under Doctor Zhar’s belt, she still hasn’t been able to find a way to duplicate the time traveling process without a living organism involved (much to her dismay). She’s tried lower beings such as rats, but they’re unable to endure the magnitude of the shift with time travel and explode, no matter the variations. Other mammals, even the biggest and strongest, randomly choose when to go through time. They’re more unpredictable than a human who can rationalize and reason. The downside? A human has to be trained.

Summer’s never been trained because she was taken from the Society. Unknowingly, the pirates, who refused to give her over, carried a literal time bomb on their ship for twelve years. Doctor Zhar specifically designed Summer so her abilities would be like a switch inside her that flips to “on” when she reaches the age of maturity: sixteen. Only then could she access her time traveling abilities.

It was during one of Summer’s many medical examinations as a child when a complication was discovered. The “No Genetic Makeup Subject” has a glitch: a genetic defect that reaches out like a web of invisible strings and latches onto all those with a certain antigen in their blood. It’s as if Summer’s body developed an overwhelming need to connect to other organisms and clamped onto the strongest species. Her body was doing what it had to do to survive—and at her young age, she quickly bonded with her supposed mother: Mindy Waverly. Except the bond’s deeper than any “warm and fuzzy” feeling. It’s the first connector of millions that ultimately has the power to pull those connected into the future or past with Summer. Whether the Outlanders know it or not, they all share an unmistakable bond with none other than Summer. To stop the time travel and cut the ties that bind, the subject must be terminated.

Since the Society was unable to terminate the experiment before Summer turned sixteen, the miscalculations—as the Society surmised—caused her to over-power and send, not only herself, but those with particular blood types into the ether. The only reason the Society predicted she’d go into the future is because there’s nothing in written history about the sudden appearance of two hundred million people. The Society knew if the Subject wasn’t killed by her sixteenth birthday, the effects would be catastrophic. And they were. The Exodus alone caused the world to go into a series of devastating wars, and now the addition of two hundred million people in the future is causing shortages of food. President Beaumont’s right to put the Outlanders in camps and limit their food.

Now Doctor Zhar has the cause, the problem, the issue—Summer—in her grasp. She uses a hand scanner to open the door to the lab where Summer’s already restrained and waiting. Hopefully she can convince this
child
to join their side—compared to Julian, surely this girl will be a dream. She was a slave for twelve years; certainly a nice place to live with people serving her will be enough incentive. Surely. Summer’s their control, but the brain and personality are the variables that can be manipulated by outside sources—hopefully by the Society. Doctor Zhar will have to find a way to work around their lack of social skills to help Summer form thoughts without her realizing the manipulation, or she’ll have to force it upon Summer. Either way is dangerous and should be handled by a professional—possibly a psychiatrist. But Doctor Zhar doesn’t have that luxury right now. She’s it. But she does have one thing on her side: Mindy’s life.

CHAPTER
49: COOPERATION

16 years old

Summer’s roused from a fog-like sleep with a woman’s face hovering over hers. She’s seen her before, but can’t place the face. Summer inventories the grey streaks in the woman’s black, silky hair, and the dark color of her skin that reminds her of someone from India or near the Middle East. Her accent, however, is clearly British.

“
Summer, so nice of you to join us,” she says. “I’m Doctor Zhar.”

Summer tries to move but, just like before, she’s tied down. Constricted. It makes her heart pound and her breath come in quick rasps.

“
I want to talk to you before I release the restraints. Get things straight between us,” says Doctor Zhar. “You see, I’m hoping that you won’t cause us any trouble, and until I am confident that you’ll be a good little girl, you’ll remain just like this. Act like an animal and you’ll be caged like one.”

Summer already doesn’t like this woman one bit. All she can think about is her mother, her new friends, and the hope she was finally feeling. Now it’s all been zipped away like a popped balloon, spluttering and deflating.

“
As I’m sure you’ve already been told, you’re the cause for the Exodus. We won’t hold that against you here; not in this building. Not like those on the outside world that want to kill you for the wars you’ve caused.”

Wars I caused?
thinks Summer bitingly.
I wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for this place!

“
Ah, I can see you’re upset with us,” say Doctor Zhar with faux sympathy. “That’s completely understandable. I apologize for everything that’s happened. It was good that we caught you in time.”

Now Summer raises her eyebrows, not comprehending.

“
Yes, after that shift in time your internal clock work went a little haywire,” says Doctor Zhar. “No worries, we’ve tuned you up, and everything’s fine now.” She says it like Summer’s a car.
Vroom, vroom
. “Now here comes the part where I ask for your cooperation. We want to train you to use your time traveling abilities. We’ll provide room and board, all your food, health care, and needs. All we ask in return is for you to go on . . .
missions
. You see, you could provide us with the intelligence we need to conquer the Canadian Federation once and for all.”