Sabotaged (12 page)

“What’s wrong?” Andrea asked harshly. “Can’t you take hearing another sad story?”

Jonah rubbed his hands hard against his face.

“No, I just—what if it’s too confusing for the man, being joined with his tracer, thinking with his tracer brain?” Jonah asked, trying to come up with an explanation that sounded reasonable. “The tracer knows he was
saved by two boys dressed like Indians, not three kids in T-shirts and jeans or shorts. And then if he sees us but not the tracer boys—because people can’t see tracers in their own time—that will really mess him up.”

“But this guy never saw us save him,” Katherine argued. “He’ll just think the tracer boys saved him and left, and then we arrived. . . . We saw people rejoin their tracers after seeing different things before, back in the 1400s. I don’t think anything bad happened then, because of that.”

Jonah was still figuring out other problems.

“You think, when the man wakes up, it’s going to be okay for him to see us in our twenty-first-century clothes?” Jonah demanded. “Here, now, where we really don’t belong? When it’s all a setup by some mysterious time traveler who lied to Andrea?”

“No,” Katherine admitted. She winced, probably thinking about how she’d poked at the man back on the beach, trying to wake him up:
Sir? Sir?
That had been a mistake. They were lucky the man hadn’t awakened.

Very deliberately, Katherine pulled her hand back from the man’s shoulder.

“Hold on. Are you saying you just want to . . . sneak away?” Andrea asked incredulously. “Leave the man alone when he’s hurt?”

The man was still mouthing his silent lament:
All perished but me; all perished but me; all perished but me. . . .

Moving just as deliberately as Katherine, Andrea grabbed the man’s hand and held on tight.

“Shh, it’s over now,” she whispered to him. “You’re safe.” She looked back up at Jonah and Katherine. “Didn’t you hear him? He’s the only survivor of some awful shipwreck. So nobody would know to look for him. He’s just as stranded as we are. We can’t abandon him!”

Jonah shook his head.

“Nobody’s saying we should abandon him,” he said. “We’re just trying to figure out how to take care of him without ruining time.”

But was that possible? Or was this another trap, one where they’d be forced to endanger time, no matter what?

“I wish we still had the Elucidator to make us invisible,” Katherine said.

Andrea sighed.

“Sorry about that,” she said. She stared into the fire for a moment, her face almost as inscrutable as the tracer boys’. “No. You know what? I’m
not
sorry. If I hadn’t changed the code on the Elucidator, this man would be dead right now.” She squeezed his hand. “Do you know how much time I’ve spent the past year wishing it was
possible to go back and save someone from dying?”

“Andrea,” Katherine said. “This doesn’t change anything about your parents. You still can’t save them.”

“I know, I know, but . . . this is one little victory over death, all right?” Andrea said fiercely. “One way to stick it to death and say, ‘Ha, ha, this is one person you can’t have yet. Yeah, you’re going to win in the end, but not right now. Not this time.’”

The man still could die,
Jonah thought.
And is it really a victory over death if he was supposed to be rescued in original time anyhow? Or is it more of a victory over . . . time?

Andrea’s face was flushed, as if she’d said more than she’d meant to. Jonah had to look away, because he couldn’t think straight, watching her.

“Should we hide, except when we
have
to be in here taking care of the man?” Katherine asked. “Should we put the man back with his tracer, and leave him like that, because that’d be putting time back the way it’s supposed to be? Or should we keep him away from his tracer until we can find the real versions of the tracer boys? How
are
we going to find the real boys . . . and Andrea’s tracer . . . and whatever else we need to fix time and get out of here?”

She sounded completely perplexed.

This must be what Andrea’s mystery man wanted, when he told her to change the Elucidator code,
Jonah thought, staring into the fire.
He wanted us confused. So he could make us do . . . what?

Jonah’s thoughts twisted like the smoke flowing up toward the chimneylike hole in the roof. While he watched, the smoke completely combined with the tracer smoke, so it was indistinguishable. And, he realized, the fire now flamed out and drew in at exactly the same rate as the tracer fire.

Not scientifically possible,
Jonah thought.
Two fires, started at different times, by different people, should not be identical.

But that was how it worked when time was trying to fix itself. Given a chance, the tracers always took over.

Unless some time traveler intervened.

“The man who lied to Andrea,” Jonah said slowly. “He’s not standing here telling us what to do. But he’s put us in all these situations where we have to make choices. And I think he’s manipulating things so we always make the choice he wants.”

“Like the way he got me to change the Elucidator in the first place,” Andrea said, scowling.

“Exactly,” Jonah said. “So I think we should stop doing what the man expects, what we would normally do.
We have to do the opposite instead.”

Katherine squinted at him.

“You’re saying we
should
abandon—” she began.

“No, no,” Jonah said, before Andrea got upset again. “Nothing that extreme. I really don’t think we should let this man see us, but he’s unconscious and it’s pretty dark in here anyway, so I’m not going to worry about it tonight.”

“You’re talking about whether or not we put the man back with his tracer,” Katherine said, catching on quickly.

“Right,” Jonah said. “I was feeling guilty for pulling him away before, for interfering with time like that.”

“And I was going to say that if we put him back with his tracer, maybe we’d hear more,” Andrea said. “About him, anyway, even if that doesn’t help with
my
problem with time.”

“I agree,” Katherine said. “So, normally, we’d be deciding to push the man back together with his tracer.”

“So we won’t. We’ll keep them apart,” Jonah said. He tugged the man a little farther away. He looked up at the dark sky, through the hole in the roof. “How do you like that, Mr. Elucidator Code-Changer? We’re forcing your hand!”

“But what if we really do ruin time, doing that?” Andrea asked.

“We won’t,” Jonah said, hoping he sounded confident. “Because that’s what your mystery man is trying to do. We’re showing him he can’t trick us into playing along. It’s like chess or Stratego, games like that, where sometimes you have to use reverse psychology.”

“Jonah, you’re terrible at chess and Stratego!” Katherine objected.

“I am not,” Jonah said. “Not anymore. Remember a few years ago, when I used to go over to Billy Rivoli’s house and play board games? I got a lot better.”

Katherine frowned, but then she shrugged.

“It’s not like I have any better ideas,” she admitted.

Across the fire, the tracer boys were lying down, settling in for the night. Dare curled up at Andrea’s feet. Andrea let out a jaw-splitting yawn.

“I guess it’s worth a try,” she said.

Jonah lay down, feeling surprised that Katherine and Andrea hadn’t argued more.

We’re all too tired to think straight,
he thought.
But my idea will work. I hope.

The truth was, Jonah really didn’t like Stratego or chess or games like that. There was too much planning, too much strategy, too much trying to figure out your opponent’s plans ten moves ahead.

What was that really complicated game Billy was always trying to get me to play?
Jonah tried to remember.
The one where you weren’t just competing against one other person, but there could be five or six people, all trying to win?

Jonah remembered the name of the game just as he was slipping off to sleep: Risk.

He woke hours later, to darkness and the sound of screaming.

“Stop! Stop! Halt the battle!”

Jonah sprang to his feet, his heart pounding. He gazed frantically from side to side. The fire was barely even embers now, but the dim glow of the tracers cast a little light into the darkness, onto the arched walls of the hut.

Hut . . . we’re still in the hut . . . I don’t
see
any battle anywhere. . . .

The man they’d saved from drowning was thrashing about on the floor. He seemed caught in the grip of some unceasing agony.

“These are the wrong savages!” he screamed. “They aren’t the ones who killed George Howe! They’re Manteo’s people! Oh, Lord, forgive us—forgive us this blood on our hands!”

Dare whimpered at the loud shouting. Jonah saw that Andrea and Katherine were awake now too. Andrea
sat up and reached over to pat the man’s shoulder.

“Shh,” she said soothingly. “You’re okay. It’s just a dream.”

“Andrea, stop talking to him!” Jonah hissed. He tried to stay back in the shadows, out of sight. “He’ll see you!”

“Don’t worry—he’s talking in his sleep again,” Andrea whispered back. “He doesn’t have his eyes open.”

Jonah thought about rushing forward and pulling Andrea away, just in case. But it seemed as if that would be even more disruptive.

And just then, the man began to sob.

“Oh, Eleanor, we were star-crossed from the start,” he wailed. “What Fernandez did . . . the enmity Lane left behind . . . killing over a communion cup . . . Oh, how can I leave you now? With the wee babe . . . in this wilderness, under constant threat from mine enemies . . .”

Even in the dim light, Jonah could see Andrea stiffen. For a moment she sat completely frozen, a shadowed silhouette. Then she moved her hand. She wrapped her fingers around the man’s hand and held on tight.

“Oh, Father,” she whispered. Her voice broke. Jonah saw her lower her head, gulping for control. After a moment, she raised her head and went on. “You are the only one who can go. You must talk to Sir Raleigh. He’ll listen to you. Only you can save us.”

Sir Raleigh?
Jonah thought.
What’s Andrea talking about?

The man seemed to know.

“What if Sir Raleigh thinks I abandoned my duty?” the man moaned. “Oh, ‘tis a dreadful choice. To stay, to go . . . I see evil encroaching, either way. If evil befalls you—”

“It won’t be your fault,” Andrea said firmly.

“But ’twas I who brought you here! My child! And I will not be here to protect you!”

The man seemed to be getting more and more upset. Across the hut, the tracer boys were stirring now. One propped himself up on his elbow, to stare over at the man. He spoke.

Of course Jonah could hear nothing, but he thought he could almost get the gist of the boy’s words from his expression, from the clipped way he opened and shut his mouth. His words would be something like,
You. Sleep now. No more noise.

“Oh, no,” Katherine moaned.

“What’s wrong with you?” Jonah muttered.

“The tracer boy’s talking to our guy. Which means . . .”

“The man we saved joined with his tracer again,” Andrea finished for her, quite calmly.

Jonah looked back at the tracers again. He’d never been good at waking quickly and instantly thinking clearly. He
squinted, counting and recounting the tracers. One. Two. Clear enough. But there should have been three tracers in the hut—even without counting any random tracer bugs or other tiny tracer detritus. Maybe he’d miscounted. One. Two. Two tracer boys.

No tracer man.

“Our guy could have just rolled over in his sleep, and, boom, that was it, he was with his tracer again,” Katherine was speculating.

Like the smoke, like the flames,
Jonah thought.
I knew tracers worked like that.

“We need to pull him away from his tracer again,” Jonah said, sighing. “Then one of us should sleep between him and his tracer.”

Wearily, Jonah moved toward the man and reached for his arm. But Andrea blocked Jonah’s way.

“Leave him alone!” she commanded.

Jonah blinked, even more confused. He’d just had trouble counting to two—and now he was supposed to figure out Andrea?

“Andrea, remember the experiment we’re doing?” Katherine said softly. “Jonah’s plan?”

Jonah himself was having a hard time remembering.

Oh, yeah—we’re not going to be used. Not going to fall for any tricks or traps. Not going to put the man with his tracer . . . going to do the opposite of what anyone would expect . . .

Andrea laughed, a little wildly.

“Isn’t this weird?” she asked. “You don’t want to be manipulated, so you’re going to manipulate this man? Use him as a pawn, to keep from being pawns yourself?”

Jonah winced at the bitterness in her words.

“That’s not how I meant it,” he muttered. He guessed he should explain everything all over again, but he was so tired. It was the middle of the night. Jonah just wanted to pull the man away from his tracer and go back to sleep.