The video vanishes, and for a second all I can do is blink as my focus returns to the room around me. “You…cured cancer?” I ask. “And won a Nobel Prize?”
Adam slowly nods. “It seems I did.”
“Great,” Trent mutters. “We’re dead and this guy becomes a freaking billionaire.”
Chris crosses his arms, glaring at Adam. “And he works for Aether Corporation in the future.”
“Future-Adam is a hero,” Zoe says. “I can’t believe he’d have anything to do with our deaths.”
Trent shrugs. “I don’t know…They said he had a dark secret.”
Zoe rolls her eyes. “Those shows always say that kind of stuff.”
“He might be a hero then, but that doesn’t mean he is now,” Chris says.
“But if Future-Adams works for Aether, why wasn’t anyone at the research facility?” Trent asks.
“Maybe…” Adam sucks in a breath. “Maybe we should talk to my future self.”
“No way,” says Trent. “I’m not causing a temporal paradox or whatever that was called.”
Adam adjusts his glasses, his lips pressed into a thin line. “Aether said we’d suffer brain damage if we learned about our futures and that hasn’t happened. Maybe the paradox thing was a lie too.”
“I don’t know,” Chris says. “Looking into your future is one thing…actually meeting yourself is another.”
I stay silent while they argue, trying to wrap my head around everything from the video. I have to agree with Zoe—it’s hard to believe the guy who will cure cancer and save millions of lives could have anything to do with our deaths. But I’m still not sure I can trust him.
“Look, my future self has lived through all of this already,” Adam says. “He might be able to tell us what happens after we get back to the present.”
“And maybe he’ll know how to change this future,” Zoe adds, her voice hopeful for the first time in hours.
But if Future-Adam’s lived through all this, then he’ll know that I’m the killer. Would he tell the others about me? He left me the silver origami unicorn—was that a sign or something? Adam gave me the first one as a gesture of thanks or maybe a token of friendship. I have to hope that the second unicorn was placed there to send a similar message.
I finally speak up. “If you’re wrong and the paradox thing is real, you could be stuck here in the future.”
Adam meets my gaze with his piercing blue eyes. “I know.”
Chris grabs his backpack. “Fine, we’ll talk to Future-Adam. But I still don’t trust you.”
For a few minutes we discuss our next steps. We can’t find Future-Adam’s address, so the only option is to go to Aether Corporation’s office building here in downtown LA and somehow track him down. It’s risky if they are the ones who killed us, but we have no other choice.
We step outside the library and the rain’s picked up again. I flick my hood over my head as we venture down the steps, taking care not to slip in a puddle and break my neck, since that’s the last thing I need right now. Except I already know that won’t happen, because that isn’t my fate. I just hope we can find a cab or something, because this downpour will not be fun to walk in.
But when we get down the steps, there’s a car waiting for us: a Mercedes that looks like it could have been from our time. It has a normal hood and trunk, plus all the side mirrors and brake lights, and its boxy shape stands out among the other egg-shaped cars driving past.
A man waits beside it, holding an umbrella with lights inside, illuminating him in a soft, blue glow. “Get in!” he yells.
He’s speaking to us. He knows who we are. Is he from Aether Corporation? Have they finally sent someone to meet us?
But as we step closer, I recognize the familiar face, the knowing eyes behind the black glasses, the shape of his strong jawline and broad shoulders. The crinkle of his smile, only with a few more wrinkles at the edges. The dark-brown hair now peppered with gray.
The man standing there is Adam.
Future-Adam.
07:48
I glance back and forth between the two Adams, trying to make sense of what I’m seeing. Future-Adam must be in his late forties by now, but still looks so much like his younger self. And it’s more than just how they look—it’s the way they stand, their voices, the expressions on their faces. Even their flexis are the same, both clear and without decoration.