Dreaming in Static

Chapter 17

Ali

Victor warned him an hour before it happened. "Go to Los Angeles, Alistair. It's important."

Ali was used to Victor randomly appearing to him by now. "What for?"

"Trust me, you need to go." Victor was sitting on the chair by the writing desk, while Alistair lay sprawled across his bed. "You'll regret it if you don't."

Ali scoffed. "When have you ever given me reason to trust you?"

Victor leaned back, running his hand over his chin as if he were deep in thought. "Let's see...for one, I'm politely requesting that you go to Los Angeles instead of simply taking over your body and walking you there."

Ali raised his eyes from his iTouch and glared at Victor, who was making a pretty good case. The only choice Ali had right now was whether he wanted to go willingly or under the control of a piece of code in his head. "Fine. Let's go."

Victor chuckled in victory and dissipated into the air. Ali's thoughts immediately became clearer; he sighed and got up from the bed, stretching out his arms and legs.

Before he walked out the door, he took his backpack and filled it with most of the possessions in the room, making sure to cushion the time machine in layers of clothing. Something told him he wouldn't be coming back.

***

One hour later, Ali was grabbing a bite to eat at Starbucks when the screen in front of him, which had been broadcasting an episode of Minister, flickered and died.

The old-fashioned hanging lights were shaking. Everything was shaking. Ali gripped the table, feeling a sort of subdued panic. He knew he would be much more frightened if Victor hadn't told him to come here; Ali had to be safe from harm in Los Angeles.

But people were screaming, and the noise was overwhelming. Ali pulled his hood over his head, closing his eyes and trying to block out the deafening yells of people who thought they were going to die. He felt slightly sympathetic for them, more so for the people in Caltech who would...

Ali choked on his breath, trying hard not to think about all the students left in the dorms--no, they probably went home, it's Christmas--but he knew for a fact that Myrka was still there. The girl Polaris had borrowed clothes from. He hoped to God she was safe, even though he didn't know her, and even though he could have saved her.

I could have saved her. The shaking was quickly subsiding, and people were calming down. Relieved murmurs of "it must have been a minor earthquake" and "we're fine now, thank goodness" filled the room. But in the newfound quiet of the room, Ali's terror only grew. I could have saved her, and I didn't, just to protect myself.

Logically, it had been best to leave Myrka there. Had Ali taken her with him, she would be suspicious and possibly associate Ali with whoever had dropped the bombs. Bombs? The thought was new in his head, and it made perfect sense.

"Who was it, Victor?" he whispered.

A voice in his head replied: "The Rebels."

Ali felt a chill through his spine. Somehow, he'd known. "Can I go back?"

"If you wish."

Ali stood up and boarded the Loop again to return to the demolition that used to be Caltech.

Andromeda

Jack was running behind her, trying to catch up. She cursed inwardly; he was a lot faster than she'd expected. She boosted her speed, knowing she would be able to reach the helicopter before him if she kept running at this constant speed.