Return Once More

“What do the colors mean?”

“Levels of influence on history.” He reached out and touched a purple one. “This is your family, Kaia. If Caesarion doesn’t die within the next month, your family will never exist.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Shock coursed through me, so potent I reached out to steady myself on the comp. Concern etched lines on Oz’s face but my expression kept him from steadying me.

Our families couldn’t be co

He touched the purple thread, making it glow brighter than the others, then turned me to face the pedestal. “Look.”

In purple letters, the trajectory of that particular line spread across the screen, and all of the air left my body. “The Vespasians will never rule Rome.”

“Right. Vespasian, the father of your ancestor Titus is killed in a battle against Egypt that shouldn’t exist. His son Titus never becomes a general, never invades Judea to destroy the Temple, never meets and falls in love with Berenice.”

My hand went instinctively to the necklace at my throat, but instead of the familiar olive branch and laurel wreath, the piece of metal felt smooth. Panic shot through my veins, scalding and quick, as I ripped the chain in my frantic battle to tear it loose. My chest heaved, lack of oxygen blurring my gaze, as I struggled to see the proof of my transgressions in my palm.

The symbols were there.

My heart pounded, sweat forming on my forehead, but ten deep breaths started to calm me down. Common sense said that if those symbols had faded away, I wouldn’t have been here to see it—because if Titus and Berenice didn’t meet and fall in love, I would disappear, too. Along with everyone in Genesis, since my grandfather was instrumental in making our relocation happen. I’d spent all this time feeling smug about the fact that I hadn’t changed anything, that Oz and Jonah were the ones taking u

I could have killed us all.

Oz hit another button and the screen changed. “It’s not only your family, Kaia. Another dozen or so families in Genesis will simply disappear. Penicillin will never be invented. Monet will not survive long enough to paint.”

The threads crisscrossing the room blurred as tears welled and spilled down my cheeks. “How do you know that it wouldn’t be better?”

“What’s better? We are here now, on Genesis, and what matters most is ensuring a future.”

His words struck a chord. There was something going on other than my bad decisions. This machine hadn’t been created purely to show potential outcomes of making historical changes—what would be the point? Especially given that we weren’t supposed to make changes.

But Oz’s face was earnest and open, with none of the secretive pissiness of the past several weeks. Whatever his involvement with this project, it was clear he thought it aligned with the Historian principles and tenets that had been drilled into our heads over the past seven years. If so, he was deluding himself.

“Oz, you can’t believe that the future in Genesis is the only reason they developed this comp. Why would they want to predict these kinds of effects without any plans to use them?”

“We are using it. It’s helping us understand how decisions affect the future.”

“That doesn’t make sense. Is this why you knocked into that lady in England?”

“What lady in England?”

“Oz, I followed you. You saw me, I know you did. Enough with the games.”

He refused to meet my gaze, tapping his finger on the edge of the pedestal. “That was an accident. The woman.”

Lie. The action had changed the development of ammunition and firearms, and he had done it on purpose. No one was more in control of every action than Oz Truman, so this machine must have convinced him his actions were safe. I wanted to understand. I wanted him to prove to me that his alteration hadn’t changed anything horrific, while my unintentional change would wreak havoc. The sight of the line, the one that had ended with Caesarion’s death before I went to meet him, took precedence at the moment, though.

Terror ran like ice water in my veins. If Oz and his string-spouting comp were right, all hell was going to break loose in less than a week.

If I didn’t do something about it.

“So, if the guy who’s supposed to kill Caesarion is going to die, and the one who takes his place refuses to do it … how do I fix it?” The truth dawned on me the moment Oz’s face hardened. “No. No, Oz, I can’t do it. I can’t kill him.”

“Is there another alternative?”

I sat down on the cold floor, drawing my knees up to my chest and wrapping myself into a ball. My mind scrambled, a desperate attempt to find another way, but found nothing. It was impossible to tell how Oz was feeling, except maybe nauseous. Probably at revealing such a big secret to the resident rule breaker.

“Kaia, I can help you get your hands on a sonic waver. It will be quick and painless.”

Oz, as helpful as ever. Like I wanted to think about ways to kill the boy I loved.

As much as I wanted to scream, to kick him and punch him and blame him for putting me through this, it wasn’t Oz’s fault. It was mine.

I started this, and because of my colossal inability to accept the limitations and realities of my world, I had to finish it, too. People in Genesis couldn’t die because of me. If it was only me that would pay the price, I might have been willing to do it, but not my parents. Not Jonah. Not others.

“You’re going to have to kill his guards, too. They’ll tell people about you. We can’t have more instances of strange people in black that appear and melt people’s organs.”

“So you know about the dark ones?” I paused, waiting for him to decide whether to trust me, or keep lying. “Where did the legends start? Or when?”

Oz paled, busying himself at the pedestal comp until the glowing threads disappeared, making the room feel cavernous. I grabbed his arm and pulled myself up, forcing him to face me. His eyes stayed stubbornly on the floor.

“Oz, why are there new myths in the past about people in black arriving and turning people to liquid, then disappearing into thin air?” My question was careful. My growing anger was not.

“There aren’t.” His jaw clenched, and when he finally slid his gray eyes to mine, it was clear he would say nothing more.

Fine. He could believe that because he’d somehow gained access to this room that he had authorization to change whatever he saw fit. I swallowed the urge to spill what I’d read in Mi

Oz could pretend all he wanted, but it didn’t mean I believed him.

*

As much as I needed to clean up the mess I’d made in Caesarion’s world, nothing had changed as far as my having to pick and choose the best time to sneak away. Jonah’s chip might ensure no one knew where I had gone, but it didn’t stop me from being missed. The Projector, which is what Oz called the machine he’d shown me, said I had a week to make sure Caesarion met his proper fate before things started to change that couldn’t be undone.

We had an observation scheduled for today, and there was no way I could skip it. I’d already had to copy Analeigh’s research for wardrobe since I’d spent our allotted independent study time ru

Oz was coming today, and so was Levi. Part of me wondered if Oz would show up or if he’d been diverted to another assignment, but he waited calmly in the air lock when Analeigh and I arrived with two minutes to spare.