Precedent

Chapter Nine

A-M pulls up a chair.

"Tell us," Sabrina orders. "I mean, please tell us, sir." When we first started training, Sabrina and I discussed how difficult it would be to respect him. He's only thirteen years older than I am and five years older than she is.

"Cray Anderson is coming to see the affects of his invention. You know, evaluate Franklin's progress. The thing is, He doesn't specifically want to see Franklin or Mission Leader. In fact, he's requested someone other than those two show him the machine," A-M explains. I frown.

"Why?" A-M shrugs.

"Anyway..." Danny says.

"You guys need to make sure Franklin and Mission Leader don't see who is going to meet him. When they find out, they'll try to send Willis."

"Wait, they don't know about this?" Ryan asks incredulously. A-M shakes his head.

"See, the email came in while I was on Franklin's computer. They haven't seen it, and I deleted it immediately after reading," A-M tells us. He continues, "Olivia and I shall demonstrate the invention for him."

"What if he wants to go through it?" Danny asks. "Will that jeopardize your mission?"

"Not necessarily," I state. "Right?" A-M doesn't look so certain.

"It doesn't matter. We'll cross or burn that bridge when we come to it," he says. "He'll be here any minute. Olivia, are you ready?" His use of my first name catches my attention.

"You've never even used my last name before," I blurt. He raises an eyebrow, "Yes," I say quickly, "I'm ready." I still can't help but wonder why. Is he another person my mother scorned? This list is getting longer and longer.

"Come on," he says. Sabrina, Ryan, and Danny get up, wish me good luck, then set off to find and delay Franklin and Mission Leader. Meanwhile, A-M leads me to the atrium. Neither of us says anything.

Waiting in the atrium is a tall, dark haired man with brown eyes. He wears thin black glasses and looks thirty-two, maybe thirty-three.

That's strange. That would make him seventeen or eighteen when Taylor first started dealing with him fifteen years ago. Is it possible for a teenager to own a company?

"Mr. Anderson," A-M says politely, extending a hand for him to shake. Mr. Anderson accepts the handshake.

"Might I ask your name?" he asks.

"I am A-M," A-M replies. Mr. Anderson looks, for a brief moment, taken aback. Then he smiles. "Ah," he says as if understanding, "I understand. Mr. Greycen once told me that some members of R.A.O.F. wished to preserve their identities in case a spy should ever gain information." A-M smiles slightly.

"Something like that," is all A-M says.

Mr. Anderson glances at me.

"Is this your assistant?" he inquires. I smile.

"No, sir," I say, "I'm the time traveler." Mr. Anderson stares at me. For a minute, I wonder if I've done something wrong. I decide I haven't messed up when I see that A-M looks just as perplexed as I know I must.

"You look familiar," Mr. Anderson tells me.

"I'm Olivia Ardal," I inform him, trying to look as mature as possible. He grimaces. I was right; he was probably terrorized by Venus. Maybe an ex-boyfriend?

"Would you like to see the machine now?" A-M asks, breaking the tension. Mr. Anderson smiles again, leaving no trace of his prior frustration.

"Yes, please," he says, not looking at me.

Nothing is said between the three of us until we reach Franklin's workshop. When A-M opens the door and Cray enters the room, his eyes widen.

"This room..." he says in awe. "He truly is serious about inventing." He walks deliberately over to Franklin's desk. He pulls out the third drawer and removes its contents.

"You shouldn't be doing that!" I exclaim. I don't know Franklin well, but I do not he hates it when people mess with his paperwork and personal things. Cray gives me a familiar smile.

"He gave me permission," he assures me. He then fishes around in the drawer. Then he removes its bottom.

I gasp. There was a secret compartment inside the drawer. I jog over and peer inside. All that is there is a report looking document. Some pictures, which Cray is now examining, were paper-clipped to it.

I take out the document. Cray glances wearily at me. I give him a friendly, innocent smile and flip through it. It's some sort of business deal. I look at the name of the author on the title page, which had been ripped off the report and clipped to the back. According to this, it was writing by...Taylor Greycen.

Taylor.

"He worked with you, didn't he?" I ask Mr. Anderson. He looks surprised at my addressing him. He sets the pictures down. They're all of a boy with familiar brown eyes. Even though he's younger, I recognize Taylor instantly.

Taylor made it sound like his father never cared about him. Right here is proof to the contrary.

Mr. Anderson nods.

"Mr. Greycen was a great man." He walks over to the keyboard without another glance at me. I roll my eyes. Is high school really that important? Or did Venus do something so horrible that he can't forget? Knowing Venus, that's extremely possible.

"Did Venus die?" I ask him. Mr. Anderson looks up.

"Excuse me?"

I repeat the question, but more forcibly this time.

"Did Venus Ardal die?" Mr. Anderson glances at A-M.

"Doesn't she know?" Mr. Anderson asks. A-M shakes his head.

"What don't I know?" I demand, placing my hands on my hips. Cray smiles slightly.

"You look so like her, your mother." I roll my eyes.

"Are you going to keep spitting nonsense or are you going to give me some worthwhile information?" He sighs.

"Venus Ardal is alive," he tells me. "She is the leader of the resistance."

"What?" I ask, startled.

A-M says, "Olivia, Venus is Mission Leader."