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caught in the crossfire. Then again,” he faced Agatha, who had sped the car away, “nobody expected an outcome like this.”

“I don’t think Sheriff Everson will be inclined to stay in bed any longer. Our timetable just accelerated.”

“This is whacked,” Michael said.

“You don’t know the half of it, sport.”

Agatha ordered Michael silent then turned to Arthur. “Status?”

“They got Arlene. I saw her down. The Huggins girl – she’s good.”

“The others?”

“We couldn’t touch them, but I’m not sure we would have under any circumstance. Walt knew we would make this play. That house was rigged. Benjamin drove in right as they needed backup. They’re gone – who knows where? – and they’ve got the Jewel. You were right about taking him on.”

No one spoke as they entered the heart of town. Agatha stopped at the only light on main street, even though she had green. The car idled.

“Benjamin, you said? Rand was supposed to intercept him, and he has not responded to my texts.” Agatha maintained control. “Arthur, are you saying Walter knew about our strategy? Predicted our moves?”

“What I’m suggesting, Agatha, is that Walt allowed us to think we had the advantage. He sat there during the vote and knew we were lying to his face. He knew we would turn against his family. He always put together the pieces with an intuition like no one I’ve ever seen.”

“Sure,” Christian chimed in. “And maybe he just guessed right.”

“Maybe, sport. Truth is, we got lucky his calculations about the pulse were off by three days. Be glad your mother predicted correctly. If time were on his side, he probably would have eliminated us all before rebirth. We’ve been too timid, Agatha.”

“And your suggestion?” She asked.

“We drop the pursuit altogether, allow events to play out, and make our way to the fold, just as Walt always insisted. Or …”

“Yes?”

“We drop any pretext of caution. We not concern ourselves with who gets hurt or why. We use all our resources and attack Walt in a way he didn’t foresee. He thinks we are conscientious objectors. He believes there are lines we will not cross. If we prove him wrong, we end that thing before it’s born. Whatever else happens here won’t matter after we’re gone.”

Christian turned to Michael and cocked his gun.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about, Arthur. Time to start crossing the line. How about it, Coop?”

Michael had no comeback, no quip. His well of snarky humor went into hiding and left Michael with an emptiness in his belly. He contemplated the very real possibility that he would be dead by sunrise.

 

14

L YDIA SAT ON the floor next to Jamie and stroked his hair. “The Earth of my creators, of your parents, of your birthplace, and of several others in Albion,” she began, “exists across a divide between universes. It is an Earth of vast technological wonder thousands of years ahead, but also fraught with unrest and violent division. It is that very unrest that ultimately led to your unfortunate fate.”

Jamie was numb. He knew he should have been breaking into laughter, but Jamie couldn’t get past the nagging sensation that the woman was sincere.

“The ruling class known as the Chancellory first led humans to the stars thousands of years ago and maintained control of the population as it expanded to thirty-nine colony worlds. Their wealth was infinite, their political and military power unchallenged throughout what became known as the Collectorate.

“But some of these Chancellors remained unsatisfied. They sought answers to questions about infinity that few others bothered to ask. Their search led them to uncover secrets that have since changed the fate of the Chancellory and led them to radical choices designed to preserve the future of their caste.

“Among their discoveries were interdimensional folds - small incisions between universes. Scattered through the galaxy, few in number, but mapped and known only to the most powerful.”

Jamie coughed as he played along. “Chancellors. Right. Interdimensional whatevers. Sure.”

Lydia wagged her finger in disapproval. “You will listen, Jamie. You have nowhere else to go.” She sighed but continued.

 “An incident of enormous impact occurred thirty-five years ago, according to Collectorate Standard Years. I shall not relate those precise details, as they are not relevant to your end. But you will find this of great interest: The man who changed the fate of the Chancellory went by the name Ignatius Horne.”

Jamie perked up. He remembered Iggy’s declaration of the pride he took in carrying that name.

“Yes,” Lydia said. “The same. Ignatius Horne brought about a genetic cataclysm that is leading to the slow, painful collapse not only of the Chancellory’s power but also the ability of Chancellors to reproduce. Unless they alter this path, Chancellors as a subset of the human race will die out in a few generations.”

Jamie sniffed. “OK, so you’re trying to make this believable by giving Iggy a role. Whatever. You still haven’t said what this has to do with me. Ain’t that the point?”

Lydia smiled. “Indeed it is. The most important discovery – the one that helped bring down the Chancellory and may yet restore it - was the retrieval of an ancient energy source, created by another race a million years ago. A sentient composition capable of remaking worlds, powering empires, and creating new life.

“They are called the Jewels of Eternity. They were harvested by the same researchers who found the folds between universes. Later, others acquired pieces of this energy and researched ways to slow the fall of the Chancellory. They redesigned humans at the genetic level using Jewel energy. These new hybrids were hidden away until reaching maturity and rebirth. The Chancellors hope they will herald a new future.”

Hairs stood up on Jamie’s neck, and his eyes widened. Although he consciously refused to believe any of this gobbledygook, Jamie’s heart was beginning

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