Always/Never

Chapter 28 / How to Hide a Time Machine

I stepped back, a master plan percolating in my head. The list of available networks glinted on the vision board, among them an endless stream of unsecured data.

The Silver-suit writhed under Accha's hold. Streaks of black scrapes formed on the tiled floor as he smashed its legs in a desperate attempt to form a hole.

Close the gaps in the network.

"I like that look on your face," Accha said. "It's the cute kind of maniacal."

I let out an airy laugh. But I couldn't stop myself from forming my hands into fists, giving them a small shake.

"Well, you're not going to like this plan."

She shrugged, kicking the Silver-suit once more. Its arms flailed and hissed with the escape of air from its valves. "Probably not."

For that matter, Rory wouldn't either. She stared at her invention, her eyes wide.

"You're coming with me," I told her in a hard tone. Extended my hand for her to take, though I didn't give her much time before I clamped my grip around her wrist.

I knew myself pretty well, at this point, and she was about to run.

"And you..." My eyes found Accha's. Her gaze burned with warmth, and I couldn't help the way my heart clenched. "Don't miss me too much while I'm gone."

"Of course," she said, with a soft sigh that echoed across the room, all heavy, like I'll miss you, too.

Dragging Rory from the room, I broke into a jog. We raced through the halls on our way to the first floor's electrical room.

"Help me with this." I nodded for Rory to join me by the door.

She slammed full-force into the wood without pretence. Cracks snaked across the edges as I grunted, firing my laser to slice through the lock.

"Keep holding," I whispered, aiming the red light into place. With a soft hum, it chewed through the thick metal, which dripped in globs to the floor in a slow rhythm.

Shoulders backed against the door, she seethed. All that anger was, at least, going someplace productive.

The lock thinned until the final sizzle of hot metal hit the floor, and Rory swung backward in a frenzy, nearly tripping over herself.

I offered my hand. She tightened hers around mine. For a moment, all I could do was stare. Briefly, my mind fired warning messages at me. Because it was trippy to catch myself with my other self.

This time loop cemented itself with every passing second.

A pinch in my stomach kept me moving. I aimed the laser at the fuse box and tore it open. Dust from the power cords rose in a spreading fire. Switches tumbled to the floor and shorted out.

Lights flickered above us like strobes.

"There's a backup," I said. "Let's move."

We moved through the halls to the basement. Fluorescents trailed me like sparks, popping and flashing with every beat of my heart.

At the end of the flickering void, we found the backup generator. Laser fire tore it into halves, and with another stutter, its light blinked and dissipated. I held it for a moment. Sighed, then tossed it into the wreckage. Emergency alarms buzzed in my ears, yet faded quickly as the generator's power went out.

In the dimness of Weston's basement, every shadow moved in harmony. Some accord of systems, filtered sunlight through frosted windows, some distant movement from a universe-wide rotation.