Aurora's End (The Aurora Cycle #3)(75)

“We the Legion,” says Zila.

“We the Light,” says Scar softly, beside me.

I have to clear my throat before I can finish the Legion’s creed. “Burning bright against the night.”

“This isn’t just so the future works out the way it’s supposed to,” Nari realizes slowly, looking right at me. “It’s something we’re going to need if we ever want to stop fighting like this. We’re all friends here.”

“Even if it’s not easy,” Zila says.

“Even if it’s not easy.”

“… Is it okay if I’m scared shitless while I do it?”

Finally the solemnity breaks. Scar laughs, and I snort. Zila bows her head, dark curls tumbling over her face.

“We’ve been working scared forever at this point,” I grin. “We’re doing fine. I mean, apart from being trapped in a collapsing time loop a couple of centuries in the past.”

Even Zila is … okay, she can’t be smiling, but her mouth’s a little different. “If your halmoni can line up a legion of grandchildren to dutifully call on schedule, then …”

“It’s in my blood,” Nari allows. “Korean old ladies are legendary, you’re right. I’m going to need to tap a little ajumma energy.”

“OKAY, WELL,” Magellan breaks in and totally ruins the moment, “IF YOU’VE ALL FINISHED ABANDONING YOURSELVES TO THE RELENTLESS PULL OF DESTINY? WE SHOULD KEEP MOVING.”

“Ready?” Zila asks, looking across at Nari.

“Ready,” Nari agrees.

“GOOD. STRAP IN. BECAUSE THIS IS GOING TO GET COMPLICATED.”

I lean against Scar as Magellan starts speaking, and though I’m listening, I’m also noticing how nice it is to just sit shoulder to shoulder with Scar. How it warms my cheeks when she looks at me and winks.

“OKAYYYY, SO, ACCORDING TO THESE MEMORY FILES … SCARLETT’S CRYSTAL IS THE KEY HERE.”

“It is?” Scar blinks.

“That makes sense,” Zila murmurs, breaking her stare from Nari’s. “Every gift left for us in the Dominion Repository has played a pivotal role.”

“Z, I got a damn pen,” I growl.

“So this crystal”—Scarlett’s fingertips brush her necklace—“is also the piece upstairs in Pinkerton’s office, right?”

“RIGHT,” Magellan replies. “AND BOTH ARE THE SAME PIECE OF THE LARGER PROBE. LOOK, WE DON’T REALLY HAVE TIME TO GO INTO THE METAPHYSICAL PROPERTIES OF THE ESHVAREN AND TRANSPHASIC TEMPORAL MECHANICS, BUT BASICALLY, ESHVAREN CRYSTAL EXISTS IN SUPERPOSITION ACROSS MULTIPLE DIMENSIONS. INCLUDING TIME. SO IF THE PIECE OF CRYSTAL AROUND YOUR NECK WAS SUBJECTED TO SOME MASSIVE ENERGY FLUX IN 2380, AND THE PROBE IT CAME FROM WAS EXPOSED TO A COMPARABLE FLUX HERE IN 2177 …”

Zila glances from Scarlett’s throat to the dark matter tempest. “Magellan, you are saying the fragment in Scarlett’s necklace and the larger chunk of crystal it came from … called to each other across space and time?”

“THAT’S RIGHT!” the uniglass beeps triumphantly. “THEY SNAPPED BACK TOGETHER LIKE AN ELASTIC BAND.”

“So why is time collapsing?” Scarlett demands.

“Paradox … ,” Zila murmurs.

“YOU GOT IT! SCARLETT’S CRYSTAL ALREADY EXISTS IN THIS TIME AND PLACE. IT’S UPSTAIRS IN DR. PINKERTON’S QUARTERS. SO WITH TWO VERSIONS OF THE CRYSTAL OCCUPYING PROXIMAL POSITIONS IN SPACE AND TIME …”

“Time is trying to right itself,” Zila concludes. “Hence the loops. Which are becoming shorter and shorter.”

“EXACTLY! TIME RESISTS DISTORTION, TRIES TO BEND ITSELF BACK INTO ITS ORIGINAL FLOW, LIKE A RUBBER BLOCK BEING BENT OUT OF SHAPE. SO EVENTUALLY THIS LITTLE BUBBLE OF PARADOX YOU’RE LIVING IN WILL EAT ITSELF UNLESS YOU FIND A WAY TO SEND SCARLETT’S CRYSTAL BACK TO ITS ORIGINAL POSITION IN TIME.”

“Okay, question,” Scarlett interjects. “If this is all a part of the plan, but us being here could derail the plan if we don’t get home, why did Adams and de Stoy give me the necklace in the first place?”

Nari shakes her head. “Because apparently I’m going to pass on a message to my successors that they have to.”

“We must be meant to be here,” I breathe. “There must be something we’re meant to do. Maybe it was meeting Nari, getting her on track to founding Aurora Academy. Telling her about the Zero, the gifts. Maybe all that wouldn’t have happened otherwise.”

“This is getting awfully close to being my own grandmother,” Scarlett mutters. “Okay, so how do we get out of this, Magellan?”

“GOOD QUESTION!” the uniglass beeps.

Silence descends, broken only by the shuddering station, the sound of alert sirens. We look at each other, then down to the cobbled-together string of uniglasses. Magellan spits and pops.

“Well?” Scarlett asks.

“I HAVE NO IDEA!”

The floor feels like it’s falling away from beneath my feet. “You what?”

“I MEAN, MAYBE I USED TO. BUT IT LOOKS LIKE THAT PART OF MY MEMORY IS CORRUPTED. OR GOT DELETED BY MR. BULLDOG CLIP HERE. YOU SURE YOU DIDN’T STUDY BOTANY, SASSYBOY?”

“We’re stuck here in a series of shortening loops, waiting for our paradox bubble to eat itself, and you knew this was coming.” I’m on my feet by now, reaching for the wrench. “And you don’t know how to fix it?”