Sherry Ficklin - Extracted

My cane taps on the wooden floor of his office as I stagger toward the back wall.

“What can I do for you?” Gloves asks without even looking up.

“I have something for you.” I hold the beetle in my hand, staring at it under the glow of the furnace fire. The light glints off the two emerald eyes set above one-inch golden pincers. The back is covered with diamonds. Funny that the things that make it valuable are the only things Gloves won’t find interesting about it. He turns in his wheelchair and chugs toward me. I hold the scarab steady in the palm of my hand. The presentation is perfect. The liquid in the tail end of the beetle seems to light up like a firefly.

“What might this be?”

“It’s a scarab brooch. I picked it from the Amber Room. I think it’s some kind of rifting serum. It can be yours for a very small favor.” I sound like a game show host, I know.

“Yes. I believe I know what it is, thank you.” He holds out his hand.

I quickly stuff the beetle back in my pocket and lean on my cane, looking at Gloves. His face is covered in soot and sweat, and his clothes are filthy, except for his gloves. He looks like he’s been sleeping in a pile of coal—come to think of it, maybe he has. I can see the indecision playing across his smudged face. Finally, he squints, making his thick eyebrows meet in the middle of his forehead.

“What’s the favor?”

“All I need you to do is have Claymore commission two operations for us and then supply us with the Contra we’ll need. I think he’ll let it fly if it comes from you.” I find a pile of coal and sit down. My new leg is aching and my back is tight from compensating for the limp.

“What’s the mission?” he asks, still hesitant.

“We need to break into the Tesla Institute and steal some tech from them. That is the first one. Then we are going to go back to where we lost Stein. I want to save her and use the tech to prevent a paradox.”

“Ah. The Dox. I remember it. Untested, as I recall. Very dangerous. “Hmm. Let me see the brooch again,” Gloves says, holding out his white hand. I stand so that he knows he won’t be able to just take the beetle from me. Slowly, I reach into my pocket. I hesitate, watching the reflection of the furnace fires in Gloves’s eyes before I hand it to him.

Using the back of his pristine white gloves, he polishes my oily fingerprints off the beetle. He holds it up to the light and inspects the liquid. As he stares at the brooch, a large smile spreads across his face.

“And you’re sure you can get the Dox to work?” he asks, not looking at me, as if he’s no longer all that interested in me or my deal anymore.

“I’m sure, sir,” I lie. But I’m confident that, between Nobel and me, we’ll be able to figure it out.

“Then you have a deal. I’ll make your Contra and talk to Claymore later tonight.”

“Thank you.”

“No, thank you, Lex.”

Gloves turns the brooch over and over, letting whatever the strange liquid is in the beetle lap back and forth. With this mission a go, I feel a slight sense of relief. Finally, I can let go of all the sadness and helplessness I’ve been feeling and just focus on getting her back. Before he can change his mind, I follow the red locomotive toward the exit.

“Wait…” he yells after me. I turn, half-expecting him to throw something at me. “Rifting back into the time stream, to a place where you already are, could create a huge paradox. So if you can’t get your hands on that tech, the deal is off.”

He tucks the beetle into the inside pocket of his soot-covered jacket and turns back again to his trains. I back slowly out of the room, feeling like I’ve just gotten off very easy.

EMBER

The door chime echoes in my room, but I don’t get up to answer it. I’m already hunkered down in the corner of my room, a copy of Persuasion by Jane Austen in hand.

“Go away,” I holler, but the door chimes again. Probably Ethan coming to drag me to the party. I don’t want to go. I don’t want to celebrate.

What I want is someone to talk to. But that’s impossible here.

I want to tell someone about the Trial, about my guilt and the terrible thing I did. But I can’t.

Because he’s listening. He’s always listening.

I’m not sure I even realized it until now.

Ever since the Trial, I’ve wanted so badly to tell Ethan about what happened in the cafeteria. I want to get his opinion and have him tell me everything is going to be all right, but I don’t dare. Somehow, my alternate self managed to get in and out without Tesla becoming aware. It’s why the computer was frizzing out. Her visit—her warning—was a blind spot in Tesla’s all-knowing vision. I don’t dare reveal the truth now, when I have no idea of the damage it could cause. If only I knew, if only I understood my intentions. Crossing my own timeline is such a risk. And for what? I don’t know. I might not know for a very long time.

The chime goes off again, so I climb to my feet and hit the keypad.

The door slides open and Kara is standing in the hall. Her hair is in a twist on the back of her head and she’s wearing one of her prettiest outfits—a simple, green velvet mini-dress and tall, black boots. I sigh.

“I’m not going,” I say before she can get a word out.

She steps inside and the door slides closed behind her. “Of course you are. It’s mandatory.”

The Time Travelers’ Ball is an annual tradition in the Institute. It’s where all who didn’t die in the Trials get to celebrate the fact that they’re still alive and swap stories about their missions. I don’t feel like sharing. Or celebrating. Or putting on shoes. I shake my head and slump back into my corner. “I don’t care.”

Sitting on the side of my bed, she narrows her eyes at me. “You’ve been acting weird, Ember. First, the thing at the cafeteria, now this. It isn’t like you. What happened?”

I shrug and toss the book on my desk.

She grabs one of my pillows and clutches it to her chest. “Remember that time I snuck out with Crevin, and then rushed here to tell you all about it?”

“Second Base Crevin?” I laugh. “Yeah. I remember.”

She hesitates before she speaks. “I made it up.”

“What?” I couldn’t have been more surprised if she’d sprouted a third arm.

“It was just, you were new and shy and I really wanted, I dunno, someone I could talk to. A girlfriend. So I made it up as an excuse to spend time with you.”

I wasn’t sure what to say to that. “So Crevin never got to second base?”

She grins. “Well, yeah, he did, but it was before you came along. So it was a true story, really, just told a little after the fact.”

I start laughing and she joins in. It’s so silly and yet I can’t stop. I’m doubling over, tears rolling down my face before I finally catch my breath.

“It’s just…” She shrugs. “It was really lonely here before you came. I mean, I had Ethan, but it’s not the same. And then you showed up and you were nice. I knew I wanted to have you on Team Kara.”

I study her face. “Aw, Kara, that’s the nicest thing anyone here has ever done for me. Probably the stupidest thing, to be honest, but nice all the same.” The corner of her mouth curves up into a hint of a smile. I push myself up a bit and smile back. “And, for the record, I’m Team Kara. Absolutely. All the way.” I crawl forward and rest my head in her lap, letting her stroke my hair.

“I know. Team Kara is the best.” She pats me on the head and points to the closet. “Now, what are you going to wear tonight?”

I groan, but she gently pushes me away and stands up, motioning for me to follow her.