The Operator

“Just at Jack,” she said, not liking it when Fat Man whistled for some of his people.

“Good.” Allen’s smile was relieved. “You’re metabolizing the Evocane okay then.”

Peri’s eyes closed in a long blink. Hurray for me. Steiner would have a cow if he knew the flight risk she was. Probably lock her up in a cell—for good reason. Worried, she looked across the room at Harmony, wondering how long her decision to not tell him would hold.

“You’re okay, Peri,” Allen said, misunderstanding her expression. “If you weren’t, Bill would’ve never let Jack go to get the stopgap serum to you. You don’t need me anymore,” he said, voice softening. “You don’t need anyone. You never did.”

On the floor, Jack squirmed. “Hey! Some help here, maybe? Come on, Peri . . .”

Peri couldn’t meet Allen’s eyes. LB got along just fine with no anchor and no training, but her confusion not one hour ago when she forgot that LB had drafted was all too real. Her gaze lifted to find that people were leaving—some with pizza, but all with weapons. Even as she watched, Fat Man took Harmony’s shoulder and led her away. Harmony looked back, her expression saying nothing. She seemed bone-tired, ready to drop—but not afraid.

LB was on his way over, and Peri stood. Something was happening. Everyone was moving, darting out the door even as they checked their ammo clips. She stayed silent as LB scuffed to a halt before her, his still-wet sneakers torn at the toe. Still on the floor, Jack looked up, pleading for some help.

“You’re a drafter,” LB said as he tucked his phone away. “And they are anchors who can recall both timelines and tell you what happened when everyone else only remembers the last?”

Clearly Harmony had been giving him the basics, and Peri nodded. “They’ve been trained to recognize and destroy the first timeline in my mind so I can safely remember the correct one.” She looked at Jack, her jaw clenching. “Usually.”

LB turned to look at Harmony, now sitting at the abandoned card table. Fat Man was beside her, arms over his chest. “She says you hallucinate Jack.”

“Hey, can you stand me up?” Jack said, and was ignored. “Hello-o-o-o-o . . .”

Peri frowned. She hadn’t realized that Harmony had known that. “That’s not normal,” she said, embarrassed. “It’s a lingering scar from when I was forced to remember two timelines at once. It was either that or die of paranoia. That’s kind of why we forget them.”

LB moved closer, sitting on the edge of the couch across from her. “And when I black out, I’m rewriting time?” Smirking, he took one of her injector pens from his pocket and undid the cap. “This must be some good shit. That’s one hell of a story. Maybe I should try it.”

“Don’t,” she said when he made motions to inject it, and he paused, his expression telling her he’d only done it to get a rise out of her. “It’s the kind of story that makes a king into a pig herder, or vice versa,” she said, and he put the cap back on.

“It’s true,” Allen said, voice rough. “There’s lots of you out there.”

“But those not found and trained are usually in a medical facility,” Peri added, her intuition pinging when LB stiffened. He’s been in one, she thought, wondering whether that would work for or against her.

LB fiddled with the pen, watching her watch it like an addict. “And this will help me remember my blackouts?”

“Not on its own, no.” Peri shifted her weight, not liking that the place was emptying out. “I said I can tell you what’s going on,” she continued. “Help you control it. Tell you ways to keep from looking stupid.” Something was happening. Michael? she wondered, exchanging a worried glance with Allen as more people left. “Are we going to talk, or are you just going to let me sit here watching cartoons?” she finally asked.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” LB said, gesturing for her to walk before him.

Nodding, she started forward. “Can I have my injection pens back?”

“Doubt it. What’s in them?” LB took her arm and angled her to his little table. “Drafter to drafter,” he said softly, leaning in toward her to whisper it.

He believed, she thought, elated. And not only that, but he had already found a sense of worth in it. She’d tell him the truth—inasmuch as she could.

“The pens hold a maintenance drug called Evocane,” she said, hoping he hadn’t already wasted one. “Forgetting a draft is natural, but you can destroy the part of the brain that causes that to happen. Only problem is we can’t handle both timelines. We go crazy. It gets really bad, really fast. Evocane stops that,” she said, sitting down when LB indicated for her to.

LB confidently slumped into the chair across from her. “And lets you remember.”

Peri shook her head. “No, the accelerator does that. Evocane enables you to survive remembering. You can’t regrow brain tissue, and once your body’s natural defense is destroyed, you’re on Evocane the rest of your life.” Her lip curled, remembering the shame of shooting up in Harmony’s car. Every twenty-four hours. She was going to kill Bill for that.

Eyes narrowed, LB thought about that. “I know people who get themselves addicted to all kinds of shit just to feel good for a few hours. Being able to remember . . . It might be worth it.”