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head. "No, I don't think so." He paused."You won't. Because if you do, then there won't ever be a way for you tofind him."

"Cade."

He chuckled. "Well, him too, I guess. But I was speaking ofyour husband, Irena. He's trapped back there—back then, if you catch mymeaning. He fiddled with the thread of time, and the spool's run out for him.He's done more than enough damage, unintentionally, but that's beside thepoint. Ignorance is no excuse!" he roared, laughing. Then he composedhimself, noting the fierce look on his daughter's face. "So anyhow, I sentCade back to kill him. Figured it would be for the best."

This can't be happening. I'm still asleep,drugged, lying in that back room. I can't be hearing this. It's insane. He'sinsane.

Horton's eyebrows rose. "I know it must come as a shock, andI'm sorry for that—but here's the bright side: once Cade's through with hismission, it'll be as if you never even knew Harry. The two of you won'tever have met! So all these past years of anguish, not knowing what the hellhappened to him—all of it will simply cease to exist. Because he'll never havelived long enough to meet you in the first place, let alone propose toyou." He shrugged with a grin. "None of us will remember him. Prettycool, huh?"

"You're out of your mind," Irena gasped,falling against the table beside her, legs suddenly unable to support herweight. The room swam before her eyes, and she bit her lip hard to keep alert,in the moment. "You can't be serious about any of this—"

"Oh, I am. Serious as a heart attack." The grin haddisappeared. He took another step toward her, hands outstretched. "Trustme, it's the only way. I know. I've thought through every other possibility,and this is the best option. It has the least amount of collateraldamage." He paused, watching her. "One man dies before it'stoo late, and order is restored to theuniverse—at least in our little corner. Our reality. It's all we canhope for, after all the disruptions he's caused in the timeline. More like atimeweb, these days! We'll be back to square one, the way things weremeant to be."

Irena swallowed. She blinked back the tears stinging her eyesand took a quick breath. "You've known all along. You've known how to findHarry."

He shrugged again. "Does it matter?"

She cursed him.

"Hey now—I only provided the means, not the motive. It's notmy fault he decided to step out of your life, Irena. I take fullresponsibility for doing the same thing a long time ago, but not for him. Thisis between you and your husband, for crying out loud!"

She tightened her fists until her fingernails cut into the palmsof her hands. She would not scream at him. There would be no tears.

"Where—?" She caught herself. "When ishe?"

He thought that over for a moment. "Well, it's alittle complicated. You mean Harry, right?"

She nodded. None of this makes any sense!

"Right. Well, he went back quite a few years, back to beforehe knew you, before the two of you ever even laid eyes on each other. Back whenhe was a P.I. doing some work on the side—of the illegal variety, I mightadd—to make ends meet. Back then, around the same time the Feds wanted to shutme down, a couple of my prototypes had surfaced amongst the masses, and therewas a virtual auction going on the Link as folks vied to get their grubby handson the BackTracker device..."

He's insane. Irena foundit difficult to focus on what he was saying. Did Harry get the device? How?

"So yeah, he went back then to give the prototype tohimself—I know it sounds really weird, but that's the way things stand atpresent. He called himself the Peddler, and he contacted his youngerself to set up a meeting of some sort for the device to exchange hands."

"Why?"

"Why'd he do it? Beats me! I mean, he said something aboutkeeping the gangsters from running our town—sounded like he thought he was aknight in shining armor or some such. A freakin' hero!" He laughed outloud. "But all you've got to do is look around and see it didn't do anygood. Whatever he managed to change in the past, it hasn't kept the drug-addledghouls from running rampant topside or the flesh-eating freaks from ruling andreigning Underground. You ever wonder where they came from? The freaks downhere? Not this world, I'll tell you that much. And don't evenget me started on the corruption going on with Reeves' Blackshirts and theiriron fists." He cursed, shaking his head. "It's hell on earth!"

He's so sure it's all Harry's fault. Sureenough to send Cade back to murder him?

"How do you know things aren't the way they are because of you?"she said. Then she pointed at Mary, who remained oblivious, chewing a mouthfulof her dinner. "She said you've made trips into the past—"

"Yes, of course, but I never changed anything. That's thedifference, you see? I've gone back to observe only, never to interfere. That'swhere it gets dangerous."

"Are you the BackTracker?"

He looked taken aback for a moment. Then he grinned sheepishly. "Theguy they talk about on the Link, you mean? That urban legend?" He chuckled."Nope. He's someone else entirely. Or was, I should say."

"But you know who he is."

He nodded. "That I do. And I shouldn't say any more. Could make things a littlemessy."

Irena nodded. They already are. She pulled the plasticwatch from her pocket and snapped it onto her wrist. "Send me back."

Horton frowned, but then he looked intrigued. "Who would youlook for, Irena: Harry or Cade? Cade's aSYN, sweetheart, one of my own. You won't be able to convince him to disobey myorders. He does only what I tell him to do." He paused. "Likeprotecting you for these past years, however long it's been. His only directive. But now he's got himself a newone."

"Please." She stepped toward him and heldout her wrist. "Let me see Harry one last time—before it won't matteranymore. You said I wouldn't even remember him, once he's..." She couldn'tbring herself to say it.

Once Cade kills him.

His frown deepened. "I don't know about this..."

"What if I could convince him

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