Sherry Ficklin - Extracted

Sitting in my room, I absentmindedly rub the small bottle cap Ethan had pressed into my hand. It’s Alexei’s, I know it. He must have dropped it during the attack. It is my touchstone now, the only thing that feels real. My arm is healed, the broken blood vessels in my eye have cleared, and the skin where the Peacekeepers tore into me has healed, leaving only a faint pink scar. Score one for Tesla medicine. On my own, it would have taken weeks to heal. Now, it’s precious time I don’t have to waste.

Kicking off the blankets pooled around me, I throw my legs over the side of the bed and slip my feet into my boots. My body is moving before I can fully think through what I’m doing. Raking my fingers through my hair, I twist it into a messy bun at the back of my neck and wind a rubber band around it. Then I slip out the door and into the hallway.

I don’t know what time it is, but it must be late. The corridor lights have dimmed for the evening and the false windows are dark as I walk past them. No one is wandering the halls, and except for the occasional hiss of steam or sputter of oil from the gas lamps, the Institute is quiet. When I get to Ethan’s room I pause, running my fingers over the cool brass door. I can almost feel him inside. My heart stutters in my chest as I drop my hand and keep walking.

Down three flights of spiral stairs from the Dormitory Floor is Tesla’s lab. I stand at the door, wondering how I’m going to open it. Do I knock? Taking a deep breath, I raise my hand to do just that when I hear the gears inside click into place and the whole thing opens just a crack.

He knows I’m here.

Of course he does. Tesla sees everything in this place. Pulling the door open, I slip inside, and then close it behind me. As the locks click back into place, a cold spike shoots down the back of my neck. Should have left it open, I think before remembering that it’s computer-automated. Tesla would have just closed it himself, anyway. Behind me, the lights flick on to a full glow. As I make my way slowly through the workstations, I ball up my fists then relax them, over and over. My hands are cold and shaking.

When I get to the main terminal, Tesla’s hologram is already there, his flat eyes staring at me.

Part of me wants to sprint back to my room and hide under the covers. But some other part of me, a stronger, braver part, wants answers.

“I have questions,” I say, my voice barely a whisper.

Tesla folds his hands in front of him but says nothing. He’s so pale. I wonder if he was that pale in life. His pallor and his hovering image make him look like a ghost. Maybe that’s what he is really—just a ghost in a machine.

“Flynn told me that my life before the Tesla Institute is a Fixed Point. Is that true?”

The grainy computer voice responds, just a second out of sync with the image’s moving lips. “That is true.”

“Is it common? I was led to believe Fixed Points are rare.”

“Five Fixed Points have been discovered in the time stream, including the one you created during your Trial.” His tone is flat, but I feel accusation in the words. “That does not mean they are rare. It means they have not been discovered yet.”

“How do you find them?”

“There is no way, at this time, to locate Fixed Points other than to accidentally stumble upon them.”

“How many Fixed Points have you created?” I ask, not sure where the question came from.

“One. It was by accident that one of my first Rifters created a Fixed Point. Once we realized what she’d done, we were able to study and record the phenomenon.”

I swallow, not sure how long he will continue to tolerate my questions.

“Why me? I mean, why did you choose me?” I ask, my voice cracking.

For a second there’s no response and I’m sure he’s going to shut down. But he finally answers. “You were chosen because of your pedigree.”

I shake my head. “I mean, why me? Not my mother or my sisters. Alexei and me. Why us?”

“A Fixed Point cannot be altered. It is a universal constant.”

“I don’t understand why,” I say, throwing my hands in the air as I pace past him.

Tesla’s image rotates in the fog, following my direction as I walk by. “Imagine, if you will, a fraying rope. To prevent the rope from falling apart, one can tie a knot in it. This is what a Fixed Point does. Should a Fixed Point be untied, for lack of a proper analogy, the time stream would unravel and be destroyed.”

“But you said a Fixed Point can’t be altered. It can’t be untied.”

“True. The alteration of a Fixed Point is not in our abilities. I only use this description so you understand how fragile time is and why it creates the Fixed Points. It is protecting itself, as any living organism does.”

I lean against the nearest wall, letting that sink in. “Tesla, why are you answering my questions? Why haven’t you just mind-wiped me again and sent me on my way?” I ask, dreading the answer. “Not that I’m ungrateful,” I add quickly.

“You are valuable to us.” His voice crackles through the overhead speakers.

That sounds like a lie, I realize. Even with no emotion on his face, no inflection in his voice, I don’t believe him.

“Why am I valuable suddenly? You’ve wiped my mind before. You sent me on my Trial. I could have died at any point before now.”

“Alexei Romanov is alive, and he will come for you,” the voice responds.

The blood in my veins turns to ice as I realize what he’s saying.

My brother will come for me, and when he does, Tesla will either take him, or kill him.

I’m only of value as bait.

I’ve been formulating a plan in my head. I haven’t spoken a word of it to anyone, but I’m sure Ethan knows what’s coming. He knows me too well not to suspect something. Outwardly I’ve been cool, if not a little detached. I overheard Flynn whispering to Mistress Catherine, something about post-traumatic stress.

Good.

Let them think that. The truth is since my chat with Tesla, I’ve never felt more focused. Every sense is on hyper-alert. I can hear footsteps as they pass outside my door. I can smell the meals being served in the cafeteria, even from my room three floors up. Of my group, only Kara seems unchanged by the attack. She’s been told about my brother, that I know. But she hasn’t said anything. I can feel her pulling away even as I do the same.

Ethan and I are playing a game of chess at my desk while Kara is painting my toenails a brilliant, crimson red. No one is talking. Kara finishes, twisting the top back on the contraband bottle of paint when I finally decide to speak up.

“Hey, Ethan, can you go do that voodoo that you do?” I ask, jerking my head toward the computer terminal next to the door.

Without a word, he gets up and walks to the panel. Pulling a pocketknife from his pants, he pops off the plate and starts fiddling with the wires inside. It sparks brightly before Ethan turns back to me with a nod.

“I need to go.”

Kara looks at me hopefully. “What? Like to the bathroom?”

I shake my head but it’s Ethan that speaks up. “To get her brother.”

His voice is calm, amused as he walks back over to the table. Like he can’t believe it’s taken me so long to say something. Kara frowns. She’s clearly disappointed, but not surprised.

“Okay. Here’s the plan. We know the Peacekeepers can locate the Hollows because of the Contra, right? Well, I’ve managed to get my hands on a couple. We’re going to use them to track your brother down. I’m thinking smash-and-grab. We go in heavy, disable their defenses, grab Alexei and—”

I cut him off. “I’m not coming back here, Ethan.” I can’t. I have no idea why Tesla wants Alexei or what he intends to do to him. We’ll have to hide, but I’ve come to accept this. We will run and hide somewhere, and Tesla will never be able to find us. We might have to run forever.