Sherry Ficklin - Extracted

I hobble in to the room without even a courtesy knock. The room remains the same time after time—a butcher-block desk with our mysterious leader sitting behind it.

YOU WERE ATTACKED BY GEAR HEADS? His message reads.

“Yes, sir,” I reply through gritted teeth. I have so many unanswered questions and he wants to talk about Gear Heads! What about my sister? What about my age? Did Anya slow down or did I speed up? There is no way she could be more than a year or two older than the day we were taken. And why us? Why were we taken in the first place?

Tick, tick, tick…WERE THEY THE SAME AS…tick, tick, tick…THE GEAR HEADS THAT TOOK YOUR LEG?

“I have questions,” I say flatly. The message board flips furiously.

I AM SURE YOU DO BUT…tick, tick, tick…ANSWER MY QUESTIONS FIRST.

“Yes, sir,” I answer. “But the Gear Heads didn’t attack the Tesla Rifters. Well, except for Anya. I—” I swallow, wondering just how much Gloves has shared and decide to go all in. “I gave her a Contra. The stupid things went after it like flies on crap.”

Tick, tick, tick…THAT IS VERY INTERESTING… tick, tick, tick…MY SUSPICIONS WERE CORRECT… tick, tick, tick…THEY TRACK THE CONTRA…tick, tick, tick…THAT IS HOW THEY…tick, tick, tick…KEEP FINDING US.

Reaching the end of my patience, I rip off my jester’s hat and throw it on Claymore’s desk.

“Tell me about my sister!”

Claymore doesn’t respond at first. Black bubbles form dirty foam around the front view port of the helmet. Claymore sits still, his hands unmoving on the gouged desk.

Tick, tick, tick…WE TRIED…tick, tick, tick…TO SAVE HER.

I pound my cane on the floor. “No, you didn’t! We are time travelers. Yet you couldn’t manage to save both of us? Or what about the rest of my family? You couldn’t save them either?”

Slowly, with his ticking words he tells me about the events surrounding the death of my parents—how when Gloves got to the house in Yekaterinburg, the flames were already going, and my family was dead, save Anya and me. A man named Flynn had already taken her. Gloves was barely able to save me. As it was, I was so badly injured and traumatized they had to put me in stasis for a while to recover. I was only thirteen when he took me. I’ve changed so much since then.

“We can go back,” I say, on the edge of my seat. “I can go back. I have the Dox. I can go back farther and set things right. I can save them all.”

Tick, tick, tick…NO IT IS A FIXED POINT.

I shake my head. “There has to be a way. Maybe Nobel can make a copy of the Dox. Then we would have two. I could use one to save Stein and—”

Tick, tick, tick…NO IT IS NOT POSSIBLE…tick, tick, tick…A FIXED POINT IS ABSOLUTE…tick, tick, tick…THE EVENTS IN THAT TIMELINE…tick, tick, tick…WILL ALWAYS REMAIN UNCHANGED…tick, tick, tick…THEY WILL ALWAYS HAPPEN AS… tick, tick, tick…THEY HAVE ALREADY HAPPENED.

Then, in an uncharacteristic gesture, he adds, tick, tick, tick…I AM SORRY LEX.

My mind spins like a hamster in a wheel. There has to be a way. I can’t just give up on them. On Anya. Maybe if I can’t save them all, I can at least save her. I can go back into Tesla and get her out. I can—

Tick, tick, tick…YOU NEED TO FOCUS…tick, tick, tick…ON SAVING STEIN.

I blink, surprised he brought it up.

Tick, tick, tick…WE NEED HER.

He’s right. Stein first. She will know what to do next. Together we can get my sister out of Tesla. My heart beats double-time in my chest.

Without warning, the ground shudders under my feet, knocking bits of plaster and dust from the walls. I pitch forward out of my seat. From my hands and knees, I see a new message on Claymore’s board.

WE ARE UNDER ATTACK.

EMBER

The smell of singed hair is what wakes me. It’s too familiar, too ingrained in my mind not to startle me. I think I was dreaming of something nice and I’m tempted to close my eyes again and summon it back. I can’t remember what it was, but the general feeling of comfort from the dream has been replaced with bitter reality.

I blink up at the white ceiling, wondering how long I’ve been out. I try to swallow but it’s like trying to drink sand. Shifting to stretch, I realize I can’t move. Panic rushes in. I jerk upright, tugging against the restraints holding my arms to the gurney. They aren’t handcuffs. No, handcuffs I could deal with. Two Peacekeepers have linked around each hand, trapping me. I try to pull free but they click and gears turn, tightening their hold on me until blood trickles into my palms. Nurse lurches into the room holding a tray full of needles and glass vials. I look down, seeing a large bandage on my left shin. Nurse lifts it and begins to clean it with iodine, making it look even more gruesome. The skin has been eaten away and patched back together.

I scream, kicking out only to realize my feet are also bound. Nurse grinds to a stop, staring at me through its creepy gas mask. Its only words are the eerie hiss of steam releasing from its mechanisms.

Alexei.

My brother.

I see his face in my mind. My tenuous grasp on reality snaps like a dry twig and I scream. I scream until my voice is gone and tears run marathons down my face. Until I’m sure I will die from the pressure building inside me. The guilt and anger tear themselves out my throat.

Then, spent, I fall back onto the gurney. Trapped even as my mind unspools inside me.

Alexei is alive.

My family is dead but Alexei is a Hollow. Somehow I can’t make it feel real. But I saw him. I touched him. My little brother. He looked nothing like the boy I remember. The tattoos, the scars. I swallow again. How could I have forgotten him? Now he is gone again. Not dead, but lost to me. In league with the enemy. My stomach lurches at the thought. No, not my enemy. Alexei will never be my enemy.

The door to the hospital slides open and Flynn steps in, his heavy boots thudding across the tile floor. Nurse turns and walks away, leaving us in silence. I glare at Flynn. To think, not long ago, just seeing his face could make me feel like everything would be all right. Now the sight of him only makes me feel dead inside. The betrayal is sour in my mouth. There are so many things I want to say, but I’m afraid what will come out if I open my mouth, so I just continue to glare as he sits on the edge of my bed and speaks.

“Ember, I know what you must be thinking—”

“That’s not my name! My name is Anastasia!” I spit the words out. My decision to stay silent is abandoned in an instant.

“Your name was Anastasia. That girl died the night her family was executed. The girl you are now, her name is Ember.”

“Вы взяли мою семью от меня,” I say. You took my family from me . My voice has dropped to a whisper. Some vague, distant part of my brain realizes I’m not speaking English anymore, but Flynn still understands what I’m saying. I can tell by the way his face pales and his eyes drop to the floor. I see the Babel ring on his finger and I grunt.-

“I saved your life,” he whispers.

I take a moment to make sure the words come out in English again. “Why did you let my family die? Didn’t you want to save my family? Why let them…?”

He shakes his head. “I couldn’t.”

I am trembling now, and my voice is unsteady. “Don’t lie to me. You could do it right now. Or I could. I could go back and save them all.”

He reaches out to touch me, but I flinch away. “No, Ember. You can’t. Do you remember your Trial, what I said about Fixed Points in time?”

In my mind I replay the conversation. “Yes.”

“What happened to your family, everything from your birth to the moment we rescued you, it’s all fixed. When we failed to get you and your brother, Tesla sent Catherine back further. He wanted to take you both the week before the attack. But she couldn’t. Do you understand? She physically couldn’t. Sometimes the time stream fixes points to protect important moments in history. Altering an event like that could unravel the fabric of time itself.”