“You’re right.” I’d given Trevor the short stick all along, and I knew it.
A knowing grin spread across her face. “Of course I am.”
he briefing ticked by as minutes turned into hours. Calculations based on the Waterstar map projected we would land sometime hundreds of years from now, meaning we’d be interacting with our direct future—something potentially more dangerous than screwing up the past.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” said Dr. Hill. “Until this morning we had no idea the calculations projected so far.”
General Holt’s jaw set hard. “You were the one who piqued interest in this particular piece to begin with.”
Dr. Hill nodded. “Yes, because the fact that it’s from the future gives us a higher probability of finding the pieces we need to get to SeaSatellite5.” The closer to the future we got, the closer to SeaSatellite5 we might become. In the very least, there’d be a higher probability of another cache of Link Pieces, like the Sargasso Sea outpost.
“How does that work again?” Chelsea asked around the hair-tie in her mouth. She was in the process of pulling up her long hair. Damn the length looked good on her. It tamed down her appearance from the wild firecracker I’d met in Boston years ago, but it made her more alluring and intimidating than ever before. Downright sexy.
“There’s a higher probability that our future descendants have amassed a collection of Link Pieces than anyone closer to our time,” Dr. Hill explained. “And odds are they’re all together in one place.”
Something bitter slicked my mouth. “Wouldn’t bringing anything back, especially more than one piece, mean risking a grandfather paradox?” You know, the whole “go back in time to meet your grandfather, accidentally kill him, and now you and your own father don’t exist”
thing
.
“Exactly why I think we should scrub the mission,” Dr. Hill stated. “Just because our calculations say there’s something there, doesn’t mean there is.”
My eyes swept to Chelsea, who looked like she was about ready to condemn Dr. Hill.
“Then let’s not bring anything back,” she said. “Let’s just go and check it out. There’s a very narrow window of pieces that can be used to connect to SeaSat5’s current place in time, but we don’t know exactly what they are and we need to. It couldn’t hurt to look.”
I was sure my jaw slid straight down to the table.
Chelsea shot me a look. “If we’re worried about creating vast alternate dimensions into which we could fall on our way back to our own home-time, we wouldn’t be doing this at all.”
“Chelsea’s right,” Sophia said. “The Atlanteans wouldn’t have used Link Pieces if that was the case. If they were advanced enough to figure out time-travel, they would have also discovered any consequences and either corrected them or discontinued the practice altogether.”
“There’s no way of knowing that for sure,” Dr. Hill interjected. “The Link Pieces are one-way.”
No one spoke for a few moments and when it looked like no one would, General Holt filled in the silence. “The mission is a go. If the original calculations are correct, the risk is worth it.”
Various nods and drawn faces filled the table.
“You will depart in one hour,” said General Holt.
When our group assembled in the Transfer Room forty-five minutes later, Chelsea was nowhere to be seen. Pike’s icy gaze drilled into me, waiting for an explanation I didn’t have. I wasn’t Chelsea’s keeper.
Pike’s stare held fast.
I sighed. “I’ll go find her.”
I backtracked into the hallway en route to the elevator. Two floors and a few turns later, I reached her quarters. She’d left the door open an inch, like she’d rushed in and didn’t care. I knocked softly on the frame, but her answer wasn’t to me.
“I know, I know, Sarah. I’m sorry,” she said as she flopped onto her bed. I peeked in through the crack. She had her