As Kato marched down the hall, the chains that bound his hands and feet clinked. The jingling was the only sound, and with that melody calling out, gut-wrenching questions weighed on his mind.
He wondered if he would ever see his wife and child again, if he would grow old and die on this bizarre world, this battlefield he couldn’t have even imagined a few days ago.
Would his family look for him?
Would they be told what had happened to him? Would his son grow up without a father?
*
In the turbine hall, the band played, and Maria sang the second stanza of “A Hymn for The World After.” Singing again was bliss, but she knew that with each line, this world crept closer to oblivion.
And in the darkness, I saw a light Twinkling in the night
Shining all around me
Counting down to the end of all things
*
In the primate facility, Helen marched out with Ty’s hairs, and when she returned, she seemed more composed.
“The results will take a minute or two. In the meantime, I have questions.”
Ty nodded. “I bet.” “Who are you?”
“One of the ways men and women are different—one of the many ways
—is that a woman can’t have a child without knowing it. Well, unless her eggs are removed, and people are generally aware of that. Which begs the question: if you’re confronted with DNA results that confirm you have a thirty-five-year-old son, what does it mean?”
“Indeed. What would that mean?”
“It would mean that the son you’re staring at right now was born to a Helen Klein very, very similar to you in an alternate universe.”
“Impossible.”
“The DNA sequence will confirm it.”
“How is this possible? How are you here? Why?”
Ty pointed at the quantum radio medallion hanging around her neck. “On my world, I made a discovery: that there was quantum data being broadcast into our universe. The data stream included schematics to construct a quantum radio—one very similar to the one hanging around your neck. I used that device to travel here with three others.”
Helen stared at him, eyes wide.
Ty pressed on. “In the world I’m from, I grew up in Washington, DC, in a quaint neighborhood where my single mother raised my brother, my sister, and me. She was a very hard-working woman. A professor at Georgetown
—of evolutionary biology. The Helen Klein that raised me had a lot of rules in her house, but there were a few above all others. One: you treat people the way you want to be treated. And two: if you do something wrong, that’s on you, and if you see something wrong and don’t tell someone or do something about it, that’s on you as well. I’m betting that there is some part of those principles in you. If not, I fear for this world. Those values might be the only thing that saves us.”
Ty smiled. “You just asked me why I’m here. Until a few minutes ago, I didn’t know exactly why my quantum radio brought me to this world. I thought there was a reason, but I couldn’t quite see the whole picture. But I see it now.”
“See what?”
“I see a way to save your world.” “My world is in no danger.”
“It is. You think the Reich’s A21 missiles will end the war, but you’re wrong. The Pax has a superweapon too. A biological one. They’re ready to release it. You can’t stop it. Not with missiles. Not with any army. And certainly not in the time you have. Maybe not ever.”
“What do you want?”
“I just told you. My mother taught me that if I see someone doing something wrong, it’s my responsibility to stop it or report it. I’m here to stop it. I didn’t know it until now, but I am here because of you. If I’m right, you’re the only person in this entire world who can stop what’s about to happen. Our mission here was about one thing: this moment. Me reaching you in time to stop a mistake that can’t be undone. A mistake you can prevent.”
*
In the turbine hall, Maria sang the next stanza, her eyes moving across the enraptured audience.
A true north calling us home
Out of the shadows of The World Before Crumbling all around us
Counting down to the end of all things
