Clara Newhall's Guide to Saving an Unperson

Reality

Clara tried everything.

She considered CPR, but there was really no point. She didn't have to restart his heart.

She shook him, which was medically a horrible idea. She wasn't thinking properly. She tried to clear her head.

She said his name over and over again. That always elicited a smile, or, last time, lots of yelling. Both would be preferable.

She prayed, which she hadn't done since high school.

She even slapped him, and red jets of light shot through his skin, and she apologized, and apologized, and apologized.

In the end, she just had to roll him onto his side so he could breathe and call Qamar to come get them. Once they all made it back to the clinic, they'd figure out what happened and fix it. For now, nothing could help.

Though it made her head spin, she got up and closed the heavy door. There was nothing to barricade it with, but hopefully they would have trouble finding her when they came.

Clara pulled out her phone. Or, what used to be her phone. Apparently the crushing noise in her pocket had been the only thing she could use to call for help. It was bent at maybe a 160 degree angle, and decidedly refused to turn on.

She rested her head against the door dejectedly. Surely there was some way out of this...

Like the giant computer screen directly next to her?

Yeah, like that.

Luckily, getting into the system was as easy as turning it on; someone had left it logged in. Unfortunately, it was harder to figure out how to contact Qamar, since everything including the keyboard was totally in Cyrillic. 

Eventually, she managed to open up the videocalling app all supervillains seem to have. Qamar was fine, but what was taking her so long? Janice and Bradley were fine too. He was headed her way. Yes, he would hurry. Goodbye, Newhall. She closed the screen.

Clara realized with a start that the computer was open to Akim's uncensored file. It was, of course, also in Russian. She pulled out the file Kruschev had given her so long ago. It was in the same format, so she could clearly tell where information had been taken out, but the only things she could understand were numbers.

In the English version, "Known Relations" had no information under it, but the original version had four names, the first two of which were hyperlinked to another file. For lack of anything better to do, she clicked them. The new file had three pictures: the first was of a married couple. The man was strong, dark, and regal. The woman was slight, except for the pregnancy bump at her belly. Her head was tilted lovingly towards the man. It was a picture of perfection. The second two pictures were each of a chalk outline on a wooden floor.

These were Akim's parents, of course. Murdered. It wasn't really unexpected. Akim would be disappointed, but not entirely shocked.

Clara peered harder at the file. It had to be her imagination, but she thought she had seen something unreal. It hadn't quite penetrated her mind until a moment ago. She scanned the files again, checking and double checking that this wasn't some horrible symptom of exhaustion or alcohol poisoning, but it was there. The math wasn't complicated.

Today's date was September 12, 2031.

The dates on the chalkline photos both read May 29, 2025.

Akim's birthdate was July 13, 2026.