Paul opens his mouth, probably to explain the bone-density thing. I give him the no science now look. Thanks to my parents, I’m pretty good at that one. At any rate, he stays quiet.
“So.” I keep poking at my food. “Any progress?”
“I think so,” he says, surprising me. This is the first good surprise I’ve had in a while. Paul continues, “Your theory about the slammed doors—that they’re convinced you won’t help and trying to shut you out of universes marked for destruction—I think that’s correct.”
“That means the Egyptverse and Londonverse are toast, doesn’t it?”
“Maybe not. I can return to either of them. So could Theo, or even your parents could travel to the Egyptverse if they could create a new Firebird in time, and use the materials on hand to build a stabilizer.”
“Are you going to be able to show me how to build a stabilizer on my own?”
“The term is inadequate, really—since stabilizing is only part of . . .” He gets this look on his face whenever he realizes he’s gone off on a scientific tangent and left me behind. “I’m afraid the device is fairly complicated. We protect a universe by increasing the asymmetry of its matter-antimatter ratios. The Firebird can do that if we enhance its power enough. What we’re calling a stabilizer would really enhance the Firebird’s power so it can operate as a stabilizer. A more accurate scientific term can be developed at a later time.”
Mom and Dad will love coming up with some funny acronym, or maybe choosing something else from Russian mythology for the proper name. But at least I know we’re on the right track. “Okay. We’re on the verge of being able to undo Triad’s work.”
Paul nods, but then he adds, “We have to assume that at some point, Triad may consider creating another perfect traveler.”
“But they don’t want to bring anyone else in on the conspiracy. Conley sent me around to sabotage other dimensions that might create the Firebird technology, remember? Triad doesn’t intend to share its power.”
“You’re assuming they would act in good faith, which is an unreasonable assumption.” When Paul’s uncertain about how to act, he gets like this: hyperprecise, scientific, almost icy. It used to irritate me, before I realized that he does this to cover up his sense of isolation. Behind that rigid facade, he feels as lonely as I do. “The most likely scenario is that Conley would recruit a potential traveler, use that person to do some of the dirty work he had for you, then betray that traveler and destroy their home dimension.”
Now that Paul has said it out loud, I don’t know why I didn’t see it before. “Damn,” I mutter as I let my fork drop onto my plate. “We’ll never be able to stop them.”
“Maybe not. If they were creating other travelers already, I doubt they would still be so focused on limiting your influence. But we have to act fast.”
“Okay.” I can do this. It helps to focus on the big picture, on the countless lives who are relying on Paul and me to get this right. “How is the work on the stabilizer going?”
“I think I’ll be able to start construction today. This dimension—the Spaceverse—it’s our trial run. In another several hours, I should have the data I need to set up the trial device.” He makes a gesture with his hands suggesting that the device is roughly circular, something the Firebird will fit into. “Then I’ll give it a try, and if it works . . .”
“Then you and I run around through the multiverse, saving lives and shutting Triad down.” If I have nothing else, at least I might get the satisfaction of permanently wiping the smirk from Wyatt Conley’s face. “You’d head back to the Egyptverse and the Londonverse right away, wouldn’t you? I want you to.”
Paul frowns. “The order is probably irrelevant. Why do you want me to prioritize those two?”
“Because I failed those Marguerites. I had chances to save them, and I didn’t.”
“It’s not your fault.” His voice gentles, and for a moment it sounds like he still believes in me. Somehow that hurts more than his coldness did—the momentary illusion that he’s back, we’re back, and our schism is no more than a nightmare. “You were put in situations you couldn’t escape from.”
Maybe he’s right, but that doesn’t keep guilt from pressing down on me every second, every breath. “I just feel like it would be a way of . . . paying tribute to them, at least. If we save their dimensions, we keep them from being completely erased, you know? They’ll still have people who remember them. They’ll still be real. And they’ll matter, because they played some part in protecting their entire universes.”
Paul weighs that, then nods. “Those two first.”
“Thanks.” I take a deep breath and focus on the task ahead. “And the Spaceverse is going to be taken care of, because you’ll fix things here, and I already saved this Marguerite. This is one we can cross off the list right away.”
As the word away leaves my mouth, red lights start to flash. An alarm begins blaring and the computer voice says, “Overload imminent in plasma venting mechanism. Overload imminent. All hands to escape vessels. Repeat. Overload imminent.”
Plasma venting? As in, the place where Wicked left and I leaped in?
Fear floods into me—pure, horrifying mortal terror, as if Theo’s hands had closed around my throat again. Wicked had a backup plan. She created a second trap, sabotage that could take out this entire space station at any moment.
We’re about to be thrown into outer space, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.
10
“OVERLOAD IMMINENT,” THE COMPUTER VOICE CHANTS, like everyone wasn’t panicking already. “Prepare to abandon station.”
Paul and I run from the mess hall to see astronauts hurrying every which way. Everybody else knows what to do, where to go. We have no idea. “Escape vessel,” I say. “If we follow the others, we’ll find one.”
“Come on.” He grabs my hand, and we start to dash in what looks like the main direction of the crowd. But then the speakers whine and the computer voice snaps off.
Instead, I hear my mother. “This is Commander Kovalenka. Only nonessential personnel are to abandon ship. We have a chance to localize the decompression, but only if the rest of you return to your posts, now!”