s1.e16_seasonfinale

New Year

           “What the heck are you talking about?” Jace asked Millie, his heart already racing underneath his blue and white pajamas. “We’re both from this city. We just moved—”

           “Yeah, I get that. But you’re not from our Royal Valley, is the thing.” She looked at Wes sleeping again, and then opened the door wider. “We gonna talk?”

           Jace took a deep breath, weighed his options, and before coming to an informed decision, took a step outside. His bare feet landed on the cold walkway of the apartment, making the sudden meeting even more uncomfortable. Millie shut the door for him and paced about a little in the chilly morning air, looking for a place to start.

           “I’m not going to lie,” she eventually began, “I did some digging around in your apartment while you were gone. Benefit of having a landlord for a dad.”

           Jace looked at the master key she had just taken out and dangled in front of him, and angrily exclaimed, “What the hell, Millie? Seriously?”

           “There was always something off about you. Leave it to me to notice, and for all the others to not even question your being here, and the things you do.”

           Jace tried to calm down. “You’re wrong sometimes, you know. Like right now.”

           “Oh yeah, Jason Connor? Or rather… not-a-nickname Jace Baker?” She observed his stunned silence for a moment before continuing, “I thought so. What kind of fake, stupid name is Jason Connor, anyway? Were you trying to sound like an action star?”

           “I… um…”

           “I got you figured out, Jace. Now, don’t freak out just yet. Your secret is safe with me… as long as you don’t try to advance whatever sick plot you came here to do. See, I put all your stuff back right where I found it in your closet, but I did see all of it.”

           “You have no idea what you’re talking…”

           “I saw your strange set of clothes hidden away in the trash bag, made of this weird material that I’m not even sure we can make. I had a hunch and checked the pants’ pocket, and I found a washed, faded tardy slip for Desert Tree. That’s where I saw your name. Thing is, the slip was green. Our Desert Tree Elementary’s is orange.”

           Jace knew right away what she was talking about; it was that one day in fourth grade that Wes had to take him to school, and of course, he was fifteen minutes late.

           “Your shoes were weird, too. So plain, and small… But the real find was your binder full of detailed notes. Trust me, I know all about that. You write things about each kid in our class and scribble all these notes on how to treat them. You won us over pretty quick for a new kid, like you knew everything about us. And what’s this fascination with Wes? Or, as you call him, Wessy? Is he, like, this dimension’s version of you?”

           Some tension left Jace’s muscles, and he slouched. “Wait, what?”

           “Look, I get it. I watch X-Files, and Sliders, and shows like that. You and your dad are from another dimension, or some alternate reality, where everything is slightly off. I don’t know what happened to your world, or why you came to ours to do some bizarro mission that involves Ms. Porter’s class, but you better watch it. If you’re out to, like, replace all of us with your dimension’s kids, then that’s when I’ll have to tell an adult.”

           “Do… you really believe all of that? You think I’m from, what, a… mirrorland?”

           “Yep, and nothing you say will make me think otherwise. It’s the only logical conclusion. The scientific process of investigation, it’s called.”

           “Um… Y-yeah, okay. It’s all true. But please don’t tell anyone, all right?”

           “You kidding? I don’t wanna get the government involved if I don’t have to. I want to keep a discovery this cool all to myself! It’ll be our little secret. As long as you be good and let me keep studying you. I should interview your dad soon, too…”

           “Okay. Fine. Can I go back to bed? I was up really late last night.”

           “Probably still used to your world’s time, huh? Well, don’t leave town. I’m not done talking about this. I have so many questions—”

           Jace opened and then closed the door on her face before she could finish.

           As he went to his bedroom, Wes stirred and muttered tiredly, “Who was that?”

           “I’ll tell you later…” Jace groaned. “We might have a little problem.”

           The first day of school after winter break felt about as unnatural as the very first one, when Jace began to interact with Wes’ class. It was different now, not only due to his knowledge of Ash’s original future, but also because Millie knew something about him. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t quite correct; she was still far too close to the truth. By the time the last period before lunch arrived, he felt all out of sorts.

           “Geometry isn’t something you really have to worry about until middle school,” Ms. Porter said as she drew a cube on the chalkboard. “But we can get a few basics out of the way, since it ties in with some of the math we’re learning about right now. See? It’s very visual. Some of you who struggle with regular math might be better with this kind of subject matter. Like you, Brian—you’re always carrying around graphing paper.”

           He stuttered after being put on the spot, “U-um, yeah, b-but…”

           “As you can see, from two dimensions where we only have a square, when we get into the third dimension, we have something made of six squares.”

           Gerald raised his hand. “Ms. Porter, is there a fourth dimension?”

           “There is. But I’m not very good at drawing tesseracts… Scientists say that the fourth dimension may be time itself, moving us through the progress of the universe.”

           “The Enterprise has gone through some weird stuff with time,” Robby noted.

           “Can we actually go backwards in time, like in The Time Machine?” Tamatha asked.

           Jace noticed that Millie was looking at him, and he looked back. She seemed to think about something, before biting her pencil eraser and scribbling something down.

           “Probably not,” Ms. Porter answered. “You can kind of mess with the flow of time around you by going very fast, but it would still move forward. It does make for some fun fiction though, doesn’t it? Let’s get back to what we do know about math.”

           The squad had whispered through class, talking about their presents; a follow up to their pre-break conversation. Most of their expectations were met, with few surprises.

           “What about you?” Ash asked someone. “Jace—what did you get?”

           Realizing she was talking to him, he looked at the gang, all waiting for an answer. He opened his mouth to do so, but when his eyes met Ash’s, he couldn’t find the words.

           “I, um…” He looked away. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

           “Wow, that bad, huh?” Wessy replied. “Tell us about it at recess, okay?”

           Hoping they’d forget about it by then, Jace went back to staring at his textbook.

           He felt tired again by lunch, since he was still trying to get used to waking up in the morning for school following two weeks of usually sleeping in. Sitting at the end of the long table and not interacting too much with the others as they caught up on things together, he shut his eyes after scarfing down his food, hoping to get just a little rest.

           He opened them again when he felt the vibration of someone sitting nearby. Ash had moved to the seat across from him, her tray empty aside from a small dessert.

           “You want this?” She offered a sprinkle-covered sugar cookie. “I don’t like these. Chocolate chip or bust. Oatmeal and raisin is okay, too… Don’t tell anyone I said that.”

           “Oh,” he replied, still feeling hungry since he skipped out on breakfast. “Sure.” He reached for it slowly to make sure she was really prepared to part with it, and after grabbing it he took a bite right away. “Thanks. I guess I like these okay…”

           “Did you really have a bad Christmas or something, like Wes said?”

           “Um. Well, me and my dad had it on the road, so it wasn’t all that special.”

           “I didn’t know you could officially have Christmas in a hotel. So… no tree?”

           “We sort of did. It wasn’t that bad, really, it just wore me out and I didn’t get anything special,” he said, as trying to explain how he had a new Game Boy that wasn’t even out yet would just lead him down a path of trouble. “What’d you get again?”

           “Chemistry lab. And a few video games, if Arty lets me play them. So, is that why you’ve kinda been ignoring us today? Just a little down, and tired?”

           Pondering why Ash seemed concerned about him, he replied, “You’re a nice person, Ash. Most kids our age don’t care about others’ feelings all that much.”

           “Oh, yeah? Well, I was going to ask if you wanted to try again with a movie, next week. It’s called Bio-Dome? It looks stupid to me, but Arty and Jared think it’ll be funny.”

           “So… the whole gang again?”

           “Yep. Should be room for you in our parents’ minivan. You can sit by me if you want, and we’ll share some… candy…” Ash stopped, looked really embarrassed, and nudged her glasses. “Um, I mean, you’re the only other one here who likes Lemonheads is all. That’s all I meant. It’s not like a date or something. That’d be gross. Okay. Bye.”

           She got up and left awkwardly, leaving Jace to wonder if she actually had the kind of feelings for him that Celeste had for Wessy. Why did things now get so weird when it came to girls? Both here and the future, it seemed like they were different in fifth grade.

           At The Dump, where Jace had begun to make idle conversation with the gang again, Wessy suddenly changed the subject from Nintendo 64 speculation to his idol.

           “You know, I was thinkin’ at New Year’s Eve, when we were all there, how it really felt like old Charlie was missing. And I had this thought, that maybe he would’ve tried to make that giant crown fall to the ground—give it a real drop, you know?”

           “Come on, Wes, that would be impossible,” Colin said. “He wasn’t a god. He couldn’t just do anything he wanted, or had a genie that granted him ‘cool wishes.’”

           “Well, maybe not, but he got closer than anyone at this school ever will.”

           “You should really take off your jacket,” Jared told Wes. “It’s getting pretty hot.”

           “I barely ever get to wear it. It was still cold this morning…” he complained, but then removed it anyway to join the others on the grounds in their typical light wear.

           Delilah’s voice suddenly became audible, and the gang turned along with most everyone else at the clubhouse to see her questioning someone, her arms crossed.

           “Look, new kid, I can’t just let you in without knowing something about you,” she told a pretty girl with blond, braided hair, nice clothes, and a straight posture. “What class are you in? Spice, are you vouching for this girl? This isn’t really your scene, so…”

           “Who is that?” Colin asked the others, after they all stood up for a better look.

           “What is Spice doing here?” Arthur questioned. “I always thought she wouldn’t be caught dead this close to trash; too worried about grime on her fancy dresses.”

           “Wait, is that…” Wessy muttered. “Guys, I think that’s…”

           “Delilah, it’s me. Felicity,” the ‘new’ girl told her with a small, if not forced smile. “I was hoping… new semester, fresh start? I won’t be weird and scare people.”

           “Holy crap, it really is her,” Jared said. “She looked nothing like that in class today. She was wearing her big ugly black jacket, remember? That’s what was underneath?”

           “Aw come on, don’t let her back in,” Hutch groaned at Delilah’s side. “She brought her freaking dead rat last time, remember? She’s just playing mind games.”

           “Shut up,” Delilah snapped. “It’s up to me if I… Hm.” She looked up and down at Felicity’s red and pink dress, which her parents must have bought her, as Spice tapped her foot impatiently. Jace noticed that she even had a red bow in her braided hair.

           “I did a makeover for her over the weekend and spent the first half of recess doing her hair, so you better let her in,” Spice said. “This was a lot of work.”

           “All right, all right. You can come in,” Delilah welcomed her. “But behave.”

           Felicity looked grateful. “Thanks, D’. You’re not so bad.”

           Spice said before leaving, “Enjoy your garbage dump. Don’t ruin your new look.”

           Everyone watched as Felicity strode back in, her small ruby red square heel shoes clacking on the old gum-covered, garbage-water-stained concrete floor of The Dump.

           Jace felt something strange, but he wasn’t sure if it was just some mix of surprise and fascination. This moment really seemed like the first time he had actually made a meaningful impact on history. Whatever happened to Felicity in the original timeline had been erased, as she had now almost assuredly been put on a different course.

           She got more stares than comments, since she had just seemingly pulled a wild and stupefying 180 with both her personality and fashion sense. There had been little more than just murmurs by the time she had made it up to Wessy and his friends.

           “Can I talk to Jason for a second?” she asked, like she needed permission.

           “Um, s-sure…” Wessy replied. “Just don’t sacrifice him or something. Uh, you know, if you’re still into that… You, er… You look different.”

           A little nervously, Jace followed Felicity into The Dump’s far corner, where the others couldn’t hear. But they certainly tried to listen in.

           “This isn’t really me,” she told him. “I just… I always wanted to be different than my prissy, ‘all American’ family. Ugh. They make me sick. But this?” She gestured to her out of character wardrobe. “I had to prove something to myself today.”

           “And what’s that?”

           “That people are easy to manipulate. You give them what they want, show up as someone they think they can relate to, and you can get away with anything.”

           Jace didn’t really like the sound of that, so he just responded with, “Okay.”

           She smiled again—her smiles were creepy up close. “Relax. My therapist told me I only have some ‘sociopathic tendencies.’ Hey. It’s a little embarrassing to say this, but I think you actually kinda helped me, just by giving me a present. People… aren’t very nice. I can’t stop being who I am, but I guess… I can tone it down a little.”

           Remembering that he was set to start seeing a therapist himself, Jace earnestly replied, “I know how it can be. Kids…” He also remembered what Wes had said. “It’s hard to put up with sometimes, but other kids just… want a sense of camaraderie.”

           “Yeah. That can be really annoying.” She smiled again—she was getting better at it. “So… You okay with, you know… Being a friend? I’m not shaking hands, though.”

           “Sure, Felicity. You don’t have to hang out with us either, if you don’t want.”

           “That’s good. I’m fine with starting off slow. You’re one in a million, Jason. But I still want you to tell me more about that burning car you saw some time.”

           She headed off and left The Dump, and as kids were, Jace’s gang came up to him right away to ask, “what was all that about?” and “did you make her totally change?”

           “Well, damn, I wish I had gotten to see Felicity like that,” Wes said after they arrived at the mall, once he had locked the doors of his new red 1992 Toyota Camry.

           “Technically you did. Maybe you’ll remember once we’re back in the future.”

           “How do you like the car?” Wes asked and held the mall’s food court door open for Jace. “I had to blow everything but this month’s rent and food on it, so I’ll have to do some serious investing next week to make up for it. But it drives nice, right?”

           “Guess so.” Jace looked up at the early evening sky before he went inside, now overcast and dark. “I think it’s about to storm.”

           “Yeah. It rained back during one of our first visits here, too.”

           The food court, like the rest of the mall, was pretty empty for the day. Staff were still busy removing the holiday decorations, and people had already finished all of their gift returns. It looked like the shopping plaza was entering its January doldrums.

           With no lines to waste time in, Jace got his Panda Express orange chicken and Wes bought his Sbarro lasagna in minutes. As they ate at a table in the middle of the nearly empty court, Jace shared all that had happened with Felicity earlier in the day.

           “It definitely sounds like you put her down a new road,” Wes said after the story. “It’s fine—great that you helped her, but don’t try to change everyone’s direction. Some of the kids turn out okay and have families we don’t want to erase from existence.”

           “Still… It’s proof that we can make an impact, right?”

           “If you want to make being a help guru your personal project while we’re here, I’ll compile some notes and work with you to solve problems of the less fortunate.”

           As rain began to spatter the skylight, Jace replied, “I kinda figured they wouldn’t all turn out to be screw-ups. But what about Millie? She’s a different kind of problem.”

           Wes didn’t answer, instead focusing on his lasagna for a few minutes.

           After a bolt of lightning shot out overheard and the thunder that followed, he spoke again, “There were a few years of my life where me and Colin came here a lot, to play in Pokémon and Magic card tournaments. It was a hot scene once. Will be.”

           “Can we, like, not pretend that everything’s normal right now? Millie—”

           “Millie believes what she wants to. Yeah, we slipped up, but I never expected the nosy kid to actually creep around our place. I barely knew her back during my first run through school, remember? For now, just put up with it. She’ll get bored eventually.”

           “But she—”

           “She knows something, or she thinks she does. I get it. Better to let her live in her fantasy world, where all her evidence points to the reality she thinks exists. The more ingrained she is, the farther the real truth gets. She’s a conspiracy theorist. That’s how it works with them. We just have to be careful to not give her more evidence.”

           All of the lights in the mall suddenly flickered, and then went off entirely for several seconds before coming back to life. There were some subdued reactions from the few other nearby patrons, but somewhat oddly, there wasn’t any preceding lightning, nor did the sound of some very distant thunder ever emerge. Wes just shrugged it off.

           “What was that?” Jace asked, now a little concerned about electrical interference.

           “Surge, probably. Maybe some neighborhood lost power.”

           After a mall guy walked by with a bunch of garland all spooled up around his arm and ready to be put into storage, Jace had another question. “Hey. I have a craving for some really good chocolate. Do you think… I could run in and get some, somewhere? Not in the mall, but maybe… that Dutch chocolate place on Main Street?”

           Wes finished his lasagna and wiped his hands. “Dunno. It’s a bit pricey.” And without mentioning Charlie, he added, “But if you just want a piece or two, sure.”

           “Y-yeah, that’s all. One for me, one for you…?”

           Wes nodded, and they got up, dumped their garbage, and headed out into the rain—and were, for a second time, unaware that the same drone that had spied on them at the mall before had been just above, where it retreated back into its portal as they left.

           “I forgot to tell you,” Jace said at the door. “Millie wants to ‘interview’ you.”

           “Ah. Great. I was hoping I’d never have to talk to her again after high school.”

           By the time they arrived at Main Street, it was dark out and the rain was coming down fiercely. It was one of those rare but mighty desert city storms, and the new car’s radio had already issued a flash flood warning for low-lying areas in Royal Valley. Wes had no trouble finding a parallel parking space next to the store, and with the wipers going back and forth at full speed, he pulled out a five-dollar bill and handed it to Jace.

           “If I’m remembering right, the guy’s name is Mr. Sanford. He used to like kids okay, until he suddenly didn’t for some reason sometime around now. So… make it fast. Hope getting soaked and dealing with him is worth it for some chocolate.”

           Jace pushed his door open, ran across the few feet of sidewalk to the store, and got inside already partially drenched. It was empty, no surprise, and its lone employee, an older man in a striped shirt and apron that looked like a Mr. Sanford, seemed to already be putting things away in preparation of closing up early. Their eyes met for a moment, and the chocolate man gave the boy a little sneer and turned away.

           Recalling Millie’s comments about proper detective work, he began by looking around the store to see just how expensive the options could get. All the shelves were neatly aligned on the walls, with plenty of space between each little ball of chocolate or finely wrapped bar that rested on nice dark red fabric, like they were fancy pairs of shoes. The real good stuff meant for royalty was behind glass cabinets and went for crazy coin. With all of this plus the wooden floor and artisanal shelf work, Jace could see that the place was not a bargain sweets place at all. Unlike the Main Street of his time, this one still had the best shops in town and took pride in that. To know that the store would be a crappy pawn shop in 25 years made him a little thoughtful, even sad.

           “You buying something, kid?” Mr. Sanford said with a grunt. “I was closing.”

           “I—I got money,” Jace replied, and to assure him of the fact, he took out the Lincoln from his pocket and showed it to him. “Just seeing what I can afford. I, um… I want something for myself, and something for my dad…”

           Mr. Sanford stared at him a moment longer, then after perhaps getting a better judge of Jace’s character, he relaxed some and started wiping the register counter.

           “I have some white and dark chocolate truffles up here, two bucks each. It’s a good price, and they’re popular with the usual day crowd.” Seeing that Jace was hesitant, he waved him over. “C’mon, kid. I won’t bite.”

           The night’s last customer walked up to see the selection within the glass counter. There was indeed a half-empty tray of dark brown and milky white two-bite chocolates that looked pretty appetizing. It actually occurred to him for the first time that going home with some tasty cocoa product would be a bonus of this investigation.

           “Sorry if I’m a bit snappy. I have trust issues with kids your age, in here alone.”

           “That’s okay… Um, two of those, please.”

           Mr. Sanford used tongs to pluck out the selections, and dropped them into a small wax paper bag as he explained, “Everyone thinks kids your age are still cute and innocent, no offense, but they’re also at an age where they realize they can be monsters.”

           “Monsters? Um…” Jace gave the owner the money and watched him ring it up. “So… I go to Desert Tree elementary, and last year there was this… thing that happened. I don’t know much about it, but apparently some cool boy stole from this place?”

           The owner paused just before pressing a cash register button and looked back at Jace. “Cool boy? That wasn’t one of your friends, was it?”

           “N-no—”

           “Because if you know that little psychopath, you tell his parents to… Ah, no, never mind. My, uh… my ‘special doctor’ says I shouldn’t dwell on that.”

           “Didn’t… Didn’t he just take some candy and run out? Isn’t that all he…”

           “Are you kidding? Is that the story that got passed around? Kid. Kid. That little bas—ah, that little troublemaker robbed me. At gunpoint. No, not with a water gun. It had to be a da… a darn Glock. It was his dad’s. He acted all tough, like he saw too many of those urban movies. ‘Give me the sweets or I’ll blow your head off.’ I swear on my life, those exact words. And it looked like he meant it. Then he ran off laughing.”

           Jace was too stunned for words.

           “Cops couldn’t tell me if it was actually loaded or not, but I know the punk got sent to some reform school up north or something. Got off easy if you ask me. But, again, I’m not supposed to think about all that, so…” He finished ringing him up and took out two quarters and some smaller coins. “Here’s your change.”

           “Keep it,” Jace said, his eyes glazed over as he took the bag. “Thanks.”

           “Sure, kid. You stay out of trouble, got it? You seem like one of the good ones.”

           He nodded and left the store without another word.

           He walked back to the car and through the rain without so much as feeling it. Once he had gotten back into his seat in an addled daze, the shop lights turned off behind him. Wes looked at the bag in his lap impatiently and spoke up after a minute.

           “Hey, bud, you gonna hog the loot?”

           Jace reached into the bag and gave Wes a piece. He studied it for a second under the car’s dome light before stuffing it into his mouth and chewing it up.

           “Oh yeah, that’s the good stuff,” Wes said, satisfied. He turned off the light, put the car in gear, and began the drive home before wondering, “You okay, Jace?”

           Staring at his chocolate, he asked, “Wes, where’s Charlie Pippin now? I mean… in our time? He’s not, like, in prison, right? Is he even, you know… cool anymore?”

           “Where’s this coming from? No, he isn't in prison,” he said with an eye roll. “But cool? Nah, he burned out some time back. I actually saw him not long before we came here. Doesn’t do much anymore. Stays at home mining cryptocurrency, I think. But he used to be cool, used to be my inspiration. So that’s how I want to remember the guy.”

           “Uncle Wes. I just learned something. Charlie was insane.”

           “Yeah, insanely amazing.” He waited a second for a reaction from Jace. “Okay, so what do you mean? He could be a little crazy with his stunts sometimes, sure…”

           “Dude, he robbed that store at gunpoint and messed up the owner! How can you not know that?! Did all of your friends forget the details? Or did you just never try to learn the truth? Even Millie knew what was up, and she’s no great detective!”

           “Charlie did what? Oh, come on. He wasn’t into straight-up violent things like that. He wouldn’t threaten someone. He… wouldn’t do something that serious.”

           “You said it yourself, his stunts got crazier and crazier! He was always trying to outdo himself, so he stole his dad’s gun and turned into a crazy criminal who—”

           “Jace! Just stop, okay? You think I don’t know my own friends? Freakin’ hell, kid. Don’t make me upset when I’m driving through a storm. Let’s just… get home first, and maybe we’ll work this out when we get there. Chill out, all right?”

           Jace groaned, fell into his seat, and leaned against his car door. While grudgingly eating his chocolate, he noticed something in the rain-soaked sideview mirror. Another red dot, following them from somewhere in the dark sky above, with whatever machine that was keeping it aloft plowing through the rain. Until it turned and disappeared.

           It was about 7:15 PM when they got back to The Flamingo, though the sky was so dark from the monsoon that it looked much later in the evening. Still a little agitated that Jace had accused his childhood hero of being a psycho, Wes fumbled with the keys some before managing to get the door open and got even wetter in the process.

           “Ah, man, I guess I forgot about this storm,” he said and turned on the lights. “Can’t remember every little thing. This happens this time of year sometimes.”

           “I’m changing out of these clothes. It’s crazy out there,” Jace replied, shaking his arms and wiping off his hair and flinging more droplets everywhere.

           “Good idea. You want to pick something from the TV Guide tonight?”

           Jace shrugged at the idea of watching television all night, and the two separated in the hallway to split off into the bedrooms. Neither one was ready to change into their night clothes just yet, so they both came out wearing their looser, baggier attire that they usually reserved for long days spent at home on the weekends. They opened their doors at the same time, looked at one another for a moment, then breathed out and relaxed.

           Wes spoke first. “Look… I want to get my mind off some things. I’m going to make some stovetop popcorn. You pick a movie. I don’t care what it is.”

           He began to look around in the cupboards for the pan-shaped Jiffy Pop, as Jace leaned against the kitchen/dining room’s door frame and said, “You’re going to call me paranoid again, but I saw some kind of drone at New Year’s Eve, and then tonight…”

           Wes looked at him. “What are you talking about? People don’t have drones yet.”

           “That’s what I thought, and that’s what makes it so…” He stopped.

           They had both heard the faintest of sounds, like metal scratching against wood. As Wes was already looking in Jace’s direction with the front door beyond him, he was the first to see it. The chain lock was jiggling on its own. He suddenly became tense.

           “What is it?” Jace asked and turned around.

           They both watched from across the living room. As if by magic, the latch at the end of it slowly slid out of the slot until the chain fell out and dangled freely. Perplexed, Jace looked at Wes for an answer, who only kept staring straight ahead. After a few seconds, the deadbolt knob began to jostle. Was it through some kind of magnetism?

           “Jace. I need you to go into my room and bring me my case.”

           “What?”

           “Just do it,” he ordered sternly, never taking his eyes off the door.

           Jace nodded and ran into the bedroom, quickly spotting the case on the bed. Wes cautiously positioned himself at the other end of the hallway archway, towards Jace’s room, where he knelt down and peeked just a little out from behind the wall.

           Jace reappeared at the other end of the hall, holding the case up with one hand, and noticed his uncle’s positioning. Now he too felt frightened. Were they being robbed, or was it just the landlord trying to come in? Wes had never looked more serious.

           He gestured to his nephew to stay behind the wall and spoke quietly, his eyes still on the door, “I need you to open that and give me something inside.”

           The deadbolt knob suddenly flipped, its click echoing through the living room.

           “But I thought everything in here was a secret,” Jace ‘loudly’ whispered back.

           “There’s only one thing in there you haven’t seen yet. Open the case, take it out, and slide it to me. Don’t freak out, Jace. Just slide it over. The code is… 0304.”

           The door knob lock was last. They could hear the tumblers being manipulated.

           His fingers trembling, Jace tried his hardest to roll the brass numbers that made up the dented attaché case’s lock. He found the first zero, then the three, then the next zero, then finally the four—he struggled with that last one. By the time he had opened the case, the door had been fully unlocked, and could open any moment.

           Papers. A few pens. Binoculars. The iPad. The two Game Boys that it had carried around were already gone, leaving only one thing unfamiliar. It was a small but heavy duty dark gray box. Jace removed it and felt the weight, substantial for its size.

Wes gestured frantically for it, and Jace put it on the floor and slid it across the hall with a strong push. Carefully, his uncle opened it, and removed the object inside.

           “Not yet…” he muttered fearfully. “You’re not supposed to be here yet.”

           The third and biggest shock of the day came when Jace watched the adult version of Wessy arm himself with a serious-looking handgun, which he held with both hands.

           All of this time, he thought, he’s had that with him since the beginning.

           There was no time to process the revelation; staying in cover, they both looked as the door began to move with a creak. The rain grew louder, and moisture wafted in.

           “Jace. I never wanted to expose you to any real danger,” Wes said as the door fully opened. “In the end… I really only wanted a nice weekend with you.”

           Two expressionless, bulky officers stepped inside. They wore black sunglasses and strange dark blue uniforms. They had badges, but they were gray in color, with odd etched-in circular patterns. They looked around, their movements precise and calculated.

           “Police?” Jace whispered. “What did you do?”

           “Those aren’t 90s cops,” Wes whispered back, and tried to steady his hands.

           “We know you are in here,” the slightly taller of the two officers said, in a way that sounded like an advanced robot trying to sound human. “You are violators of the sanctity and stability of the time stream. Show yourselves at once.”

           “Is this happening?” Jace exclaimed. “They’re… they’re real?”

           “Surrender, and you will be judged fairly,” the other officer added.

           Wes closed his eyes and took a deep breath, before suddenly shouting, “Like hell I will! You both were not supposed to show up again! I did everything right…”

           “You cannot escape,” the taller officer said, with no more emotion than one of the terminators from those movies Jace had watched with Wes. “Think of the child.”

           Wes took one more breath, and replied, “I am.”

           He lunged, slid on the floor, twisted around, and with a battle cry, unloaded one, two, three—four, then five rounds. Jace got down and covered his ears, with gunshots ringing throughout the apartment where they had lived the last few months. This was a place of pizza, TV nights, and computer games; it wasn’t supposed to be a warzone.

           But Wes was a lousy shot. Two slugs went into the front door’s frame, two hit the wall, and the last somehow managed to veer to the right, going through a window.

           Unflinching, the cops looked across the room and down at him. Needing at least one shot to accomplish anything at all, Wes exhaled, steadied himself, and fired again. Probably with more luck than skill, he hit the taller officer right in the eye. The damage, however, was superficial. Without giving it much of a thought, he simply raised a hand, removed the broken sunglasses, and slid them into his uniform’s front pocket.

           “… Shit,” Wes grumbled.

           His partner unmoving, the taller officer reached over his shoulder and grabbed the futuristic sci-fi rifle that was hanging on his back. He took aim down its holographic sight, turned it on—it sounded like a camera flash warming up—and fired. A high-intensity blue beam of energy blasted into the wall, inches above Wes.

           His heart pounding, Jace scooted himself back and looked at the damage. The smell of ozone was in the air, and a perfectly circular hole had burned through the living room’s dry wall, straight through the kitchen wall as well. The shot had only stopped when it hit the fridge, where it left a swirling pattern that glowed a dull orange.

           They’re time cops, Jace told himself. And they use laser weaponry. This is insane.

           The rifle was heating up for another shot, and the first one only seemed to be meant as a warning. Jace was already convinced that not only were they time cops; they were also perfect killing machines, when they needed to be. Cyborgs.

           “This is your last chance. Give up and come with us.”

           Wes looked at Jace solemnly. He was now helpless on the floor with a deadly weapon pointed down at him by a perfect-aim robotic officer—a stark contrast to the unwieldly shotgun fired at them by a raving lunatic at the start of their journey.

           “Sorry, kid. I never wanted it to come to this. I tried. I really did.”

           “W-Wes…”

           The rifle sound reached its firing pitch. Wes, refusing to drop his weapon, seemed about ready to accept his fate. The temporal officer did a subtle movement with his hands, and the trigger was about to be squeezed.

           And then, the strangest thing. The officer didn’t so much as gasp, or seemingly feel any pain—not even after a giant, carbon-fiber black industrial sword with a glowing red edge had sliced down through his body diagonally, bisecting him.

           Sparks burst out from his torso as the top off slid away and his bottom half crumpled to the ground, the sound and smell of breaking and burning machinery filling up the apartment all the while. Horrifyingly, even after his upper body hit the ground, the cop used his arms to flip over and go for his rifle. Acting quickly, the Time Ninja that had appeared behind him swiped with his blade to cut the weapon in half next.

           The black-clad lad turned his attention to the other officer, reaching for his own rifle—until he was stopped the moment Ninja thrust his sword straight into his chest, and then pressed a button on its hilt to electrify it and fry the cop’s mechanical insides.

           Once both officers had collapsed into pieces on the ground, the ninja surveyed his work for a moment before returning his sword to its passive state. Its moving parts compacted into the smaller sword Jace had seen before, and the red glow faded.

           “W-what the hell?” Wes stammered, dropping his gun and slipping on the floor twice before he managed to get up. “You—you’re real? A-and you can kill those things?”

           “Ninja!” Jace shouted. “You… you saved us.”

           Dripping wet, Ninja stepped in and looked around. Cautiously and still on the verge of losing his grasp on reality, Wes kept in front of Jace as they approached. But their savior wasn’t finished with his work yet, as two time portals had just automatically opened under the cops, right in the apartment’s tiled floor. The appearance of the temporal gates created electrical interference, and every light in the apartment flickered.

           Their bodies began to sink into the portals, while their heads and necks separated, flipped upside down, and grew four small skittering robot legs that carried them to safety. It made for a revolting display, even if they were robots and not organic. The heads jumped and dug into the portals to escape before the bodies joined them.

           Ninja reached into the bisected officer’s body even as it disappeared into the quicksand-like floor, dug around, and managed to pull out a handheld smooth crystal of some kind right before the body vanished. Just to complete the disposal of evidence for them, he also kicked in the rifle remains before the portals sealed themselves.

           “Their heads are heavily armored,” Ninja explained and slid the crystal into one of his utility belt bags. “Houses their brains, anyway—I don’t feel like being a murderer. Nice to score another quartz, though. Mine’s wearing out.” He looked at the two he had just saved from behind his visor. “You won’t like this next part. But it’s for the best.”

           He stepped aside to reveal Millie, standing petrified in the doorway in her blue raincoat, her eyes like saucers behind her dripping glasses, her mouth agape. She had been holding a brightly colored and durable kid’s recorder—she must have just come over to try and do an interview with Wes. But it fell out of her hand and onto the floor.

           “We… are so screwed…” Wes spoke up after a few seconds.

           “Not yet,” Ninja said and turned to Millie. “Come in. Get out of the rain.”

           Without words, she walked inside as if she too were a robot, her mind fried after what she had just seen. Ninja closed and locked the door behind him. Nothing remained of the time cyborgs he had just mostly taken out. But Millie must have seen it all.

           “Oh, God…” Wes facepalmed and tried to keep from freaking out. “This can’t all be happening. Jace, I… This has to be my fault. I screwed up somewhere…”

           Without taking off her dripping raincoat, Millie sat on the couch, where she only stared at the wall, giving the three time travelers a chance to talk first. To Jace, she was the only normal element of the room, the one thing grounded to any kind of reality that made sense. She wasn’t a time cop or ninja; just a nosy, overly curious 90s girl.

           Ninja holstered his sword, exposing the exoframe on his arm, its servos whirring and clicking lightly. Wes watched this, and figured it’d make for a good opener.

           “That’s… a nice… uh, robotic arm you have there.”

           “Took it off of an exosuit. Do you think I can just sling around a fifty-pound giant sword on my own, like some anime schoolgirl?”

           “So… they have anime where… or when you’re from?”

           As Millie scrunched up and began trembling, Ninja told Wes, “She’ll eventually ask for some hot cocoa. Might as well make her some now. I’m not going anywhere.”

           “Y-yeah, okay… Sure. I’ll just… I’ll go do that.”

           After Wes had walked backward into the kitchen, Jace got closer to the visitor to get a better look. Their previous adventure together mostly took place throughout Halloween nights and was hectic, so this was the best he had seen him yet.

           “Things change from here out,” Ninja said. “But I got a couple things I want you to hear, and not your, ah…” He looked at Millie. “Dad.” He touched something on his mask to lower the volume of his voice modulator so only Jace could hear. “I wanted him to meet Vanni earlier. It’s an important detail that the big idiot hadn’t planned around. I have his best interests in mind, and he can’t figure out everything himself.”

           “What about the candy? You almost shoved him into a car so he’d lose it, right?”

           “Saw it as a chance to teach him some humbleness. Look, I’ve had this exact conversation four times. It’s just not that important to tell you much more than that.”

           “Four times? How many attempts did it take to get this right?”

           “Eight. Not including the Millie variable. I got Wes killed by those bastards twice before I got that part right. But don’t tell him that. I’m actually just trying to brag here. The time cops? They’re mean, and trained. I’m surprised I got it correct so quickly.”

           Wes came back, with three mugs of steaming cocoa. “I cheaped out and nuked them. No marshmallows, either. Um… I hope you didn’t want some, Ninja guy.”

           “No need. Give the biggest mug to Ms. Vanbusen.”

           Wes handed it down to her with an awkward grin, having to nudge her shoulder with the mug twice before she took it and silently began to sip at its edges.

           Ninja already knew the best way to start their chat, by going over to their TV—and knocking it to the floor, where it broke open.

           “Hey, what the hell, man?” Wes yelled at him.

           “You don’t need it anymore.” Ninja then reached inside, much like he had done with the time cop, and plucked out a device with blinking lights and dual antenna. “We need to take this with us. I slipped it into both of your sets. Scrambles the local spacetime readings, gives false negatives. Means the cops had to ID you the slow and visual way, bought you a few months. I knew it wouldn’t keep them back forever.”

           “What the hell are you even talking about?” Wes shouted, then took a sip.

           “My life’s been non-linear for a while. I’ve gone back and forth, and beyond this point in time, for weeks—what I see as weeks. That means I’ll bring up facts that won’t always make sense, what with your perception of time. The cops pegged you the day you arrived. I kept them off your back as long as I could. You made this trip before, right?”

           “Well, I…”

           “It’s obvious. Your method of time travel is different than mine.” He took out a worn, slightly chipped foggy crystal, with a bright blue holographic interface that had a lot of numbers inside it. “Time quartz is what the rest of the universe uses to travel through… time. The cops, no duh, enforce and protect the past. The way you arrived here, however it was done, is dirty. Crystals are a nice, clean satellite radio signal. Your way is a limited, ugly-sounding, messy AM frequency. That’s the best I can explain it.”

           “What does it matter that this is my second visit? They didn’t originally show up until next May, about a month before I left the first time. Scared the hell out of me…”

           “Their monitoring is also non-linear. To them, you’ve been here for a year and a half or so. And you probably didn’t change much last time, unlike this visit with Jace, trying to… improve things. Changes make it easier to find you. They wait, and they’re precise. Laser weapons means they don’t leave shell casings behind. They carry their quartz in their bodies, and they trigger portals if badly damaged. They don’t eat, drink, or sleep. They never leave behind evidence, and never interact with time too much.”

           “But how did they find us?” Jace asked.

           “They focused their search on you, since you spend much more time out of the apartment. Followed you with drones. They acted tonight, because the storm would help cover up any gunshots. They won’t be back right away—they carefully plan their strikes and wait for the right time and place. But we definitely can’t stay. Pack up the essentials, and we’ll get going. Not that it will happen just yet, since you still have more questions.”

           “Damn right!” Wes exclaimed. “Here’s one: why haven’t I seen you before?”

           “You didn’t need to. But I did have to fix some of your screwups. Like your monitoring equipment? I couldn’t risk you finding out that your door-portal turned back on and suddenly returning home. If it makes any difference, I don’t think it did.”

           “Son of a…” Wes sighed and tried to relax a little on the couch next to Millie, still the unmoving rock in the room. “And that time eye? Is that even real?”

           “Very real. And even more dangerous than the cops.”

           “But you’re not going to tell me what it is, are you?”

           “Not until you need to know. You see it again, just run away from it. Here’s what’s going to happen now. They know what your car looks like, so we’ll head just outside of town for a bit to be safe, wait for things to cool off, and then you burn it.”

           “Are you kidding me? I just bought it!”

           “Heh. Yeah, I’m kidding. You don’t need to destroy it. I just still like your reaction. You do need to totally get rid of it, though. Sell it, get your money back. It will help.”

           “You know what, Kylo Ren? You’re a real asshole, and I bet you feel all high and mighty hiding behind that mask.” Wes chugged some cocoa. “You must know how this ends up. What’s the genius of letting Millie in? What could she possibly contribute?”

           “If I told you, you both wouldn’t believe me and it would affect the very reason. I saw a future where I covered it all up, hid it from her. It didn’t turn out well.”

           Wes looked at Millie. She looked back, her eyes glazed over as she took a sip.

           “Screw all of this,” Wes moaned and stood up. “Seriously. Jace, I’m leaving my note and we’re going home. Through the door, with one of those crystals… however.”

           “You can’t do that,” Ninja told him.

           “Oh, yeah? Watch me. I’m the adult. I’ve always been the one that decides how this ‘vacation’ was going to go. It’s my decision. All of this danger, all of this crap trying to kill me? It’s not worth it. I’ll accept my shitty adult life over this any day.”

           “You can’t. I need you. You aren’t the only one with big goals, Nick Deckard.”

           “Nick… Deckard? Who the heck is that?” Jace asked.

           “It’s… my fake name,” Wes answered. “It’s lame, I know—even worse than yours, but I figured I wouldn’t have to use it much. Fine, Genji… what are these goals of yours? Why should I care? And… you’re not going to tell me anyway, are you?”

           “Nope. You just need to keep doing what you’re doing until I show up again. And for me, after tonight, that will happen pretty quickly. For you, it will be a while. Unless one of our enemies interferes again sooner than expected. Time is like that.”

           Wes crossed his arms. “I’m not going to trust a guy who hides behind a mask and won’t give me their name. No matter how much of a badass he thinks he is.”

           “I know you won’t. I can’t strong arm my way out of this, and I’ve already seen how I never gain your trust if I don’t do as you ask right here and now. That doesn’t mean I like it,” he sighed, and then reached to the back of his neck and unlocked a latch.

           Wes and Jace leaned in, neither knowing what to expect. All they knew about the ninja was that he was both a foul-mouthed boy, and most likely a teenager. They waited impatiently for the mask to come off, so they could try to identify him. Because, surely, they had seen him before, somewhere, either younger or older. Right?

           But… Hm. No. They couldn’t recall his face. It was young and intense, like he hadn’t smiled in years. He had sharp brown eyes and amber hair, and had he been a little younger, that black hoodie wrapped around his shoulders would have still fit him. Wes and Jace looked at each other, examined Ninja’s tired and serious face that had several small and faint scars again, and then back at each other. They hadn’t a clue.

           “I’m fourteen years old. You can call me Warren.”

           “That name… doesn’t mean anything to me,” Wes admitted.

           “No. Why would it? Now pack up, you wannabe blade runner.” Warren put his mask back on, giving his voice back to a machine. “We’re leaving in ten.”

           “You’re… you’re time travelers?!” Millie finally and suddenly shouted, spreading her arms and flinging water and cocoa droplets everywhere. “That was my next guess!”

           Wes and Jace looked at her shocked face. Now they were the ones with no expression. As bizarre as any time cops and ninja could be, having to include a local and lonely observer girl in their four-dimensional shenanigans felt even stranger.

           “Hi, Dad,” Millie said into Jace’s cell phone, from the back of Wes’ car. “Yeah, I saw Mr. Deckard’s place. Did you see the $300 he left for repairs? I was gonna tell you, but, uh, I got picked up by my friend’s parents, for a sleepover. Yes. I do have friends.” Jace looked at her from his seat inquisitively, and she glared back. “I’ll come home early before school. I know, it’s a weird night for… What happened? Um, he had a shootout with gangsters he took money from. So, he has to leave town for now. Yeah, me neither. Yep. Bye!” She handed the phone back to Jace, adding, “He says he isn’t surprised.”

           Wes had just taken them past the industrial sites in the west, where the roads were rough. The area was dark and empty, making it scary for night driving, but a safe place to hide from time cops. Supposedly. As they might still attract actual Royal Valley cops, he drove carefully. Warren was up front with him, still wearing his goggles and modulator. The storm had mostly moved on, and only light drops hit the windshield.

           “Sooo… What’s the future like?” Millie asked Jace. “Do you battle those time cop guys when you’re flying around in time like Marty and Doc Brown?”

           “Weren’t you paying attention? That was the first time I’ve seen them, and I’ve only traveled in time once. I guess… I can just say we do everything on our screens.”

           “C’mon. Ninja boy said I was gonna end up helping, so teeellll me something!”

           “Fine,” Jace whined. Just hoping to shush her for a minute, he dug deep into his pocket, took out his iPhone, unlocked it, and handed it over. “Be careful with it.”

           Her eyes as big as the boy’s that stole it the first day he visited 1995, Millie began poking at its bright pixels, and soon figured out that she could swipe through the apps.

           “What… is this thing? It’s so colorful. And I can touch it, and it moves.”

           “It’s a phone. It can also go on the internet, and play games, and check email…”

           “We’re going to have things like this? I can’t wait! Hold on, if this is still a phone, why can’t you just use it instead of the boring and ugly phones we have now?”

           “My dad says that even if it could connect to cell towers, they wouldn’t have any idea what it is, and then maybe people would come and try to find out. Stuff like that.”

           Wes looked back at him. “Really, Jace? I told you, don’t show her future things!”

           Jace yanked it from her hands and returned it to safety, to her disappointment.

           A natural hypocrite, Wes then looked at Warren and asked, “Hey, mind if I get a better look at one of those cool time crystals?”

           “It’s quartz, and no. I also won’t tell you when I’m from. I’m keeping things from you so you can focus on the laser tag game—which is important. We can talk about your plans tonight. Maybe you’ve already figured out how to fix the old mistakes. The bridge is coming up. Slow down. Again, I hope you brought everything important.”

           Carefully and steadily driving down the embankment of the only river near town, Wes replied, “All the future stuff, the computer, and most importantly, the snacks.”

           They were settled in after twenty minutes, but no one looked ready to try and sleep. Their little camp site under the bridge included a fire, giving them a source of light. The left side doors of the car Wes would soon have to give up were both open and the seats occupied. Warren was by the fire, monitoring for local time bursts on his quartz, which could signal the arrival of more cops. Millie was at the edge of the bridge’s cover, staying out of the rain. The river was rushing nearby, but they were perfectly dry.

           “Let’s see…” Wes brought out the bag of all the remaining food he had taken from the apartment. “Some cookies, a box of Fruit Loops, one thing of Dunkaroos…”

           Millie flipped around. “I call the Dunkaroos. I live on that stuff.”

           “Fine,” he sighed, got up, and tossed it to her. “Even though I wanted it…”

           He returned to the driver’s seat and took a bite out of a Nutri-Grain bar. Jace, in the backseat, had been pensive and quiet for a while.

           After some time, he asked, “We have to start all over again, don’t we?”

           “We’ll be okay. I don’t like taking orders—one reason I left the future was to ditch a boss—but this Warren kid seems to know what he’s doing.” He turned and spoke over the back seat. “Hey, I know I freaked you out back there. I don’t like guns, either. Probably why I’m a lousy shot. But I had to protect you if the time came.”

           “As messed up as it was, I was thinking—why isn’t your fake last name Connor?”

           “Thought it’d help scramble our identities. Stepdads are a thing, bud…” He got comfortable and reminisced with regret, “Guess we’ll both wonder what that’d be like.”

           Of course. Wes did his best to think of everything, and he always tried his darned hardest. Yet they ended up hiding from the rain and time cops under a bridge, staring at a fire with a ninja, a peculiar spy girl, and now an uncertain future in the past.

           “But I told you, didn’t I?” Wes said and shut his eyes. “1995 was still awesome.”