Prodigal by Sherry Ficklin & Tyler Jolley

Author:Sherry Ficklin & Tyler Jolley [Ficklin, Sherry]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Clean Teen Publishing
Published: 2015-05-04T22:00:00+00:00

nsuing scuffle, a vat of Contra burst, covering us both.”

My head jerks up. “Contra?”

“Yes, I was still developing it at the time. It is quite toxic to humans, heavily radioactive, which is why I can track it in the Time Stream, and it absorbed into our skin. Flynn managed to save me, and Gloves—who had rifted you away—arrived just in time to save him. That was the last I ever saw of them, or you.”

He pushes back from the desk and stands, making his way over to me.

“Flynn created a prosthetic mask and continued to act as me for many years. He took my inventions to the scientific community, registered patents, and did interviews. Even as I was trapped in the basement of his family home in New York, dying, he was pretending to be me so no one would suspect. He, Catherine, and a few others began rifting through time, finding the best minds of the past and the future, attempting to enlist their help. They managed to salvage my mind—that was all I really cared about those days—and encase it in the tank in the wall you see behind me.”

He points to the brain in the built-in tank for dramatic effect. With a deep sigh, he kneels in front of me. “Seeing you, grown and alive, it makes me feel as though I am alive again as well.” He takes my hands, and I don’t stop him. I want to—just touching him is making my skin crawl—but I hold steady, unflinching. “Stay here, help me finish my research. We can fix everything, or, when my time comes, I can die knowing you are here to preserve my legacy.”

A slow chill creeps up my arms, like slime covering my skin. If I want his help, I’m going to have to play the part. I’ll have to pretend to fall for his sob story. I frown, trying to look pensive as I pull my hands away.

“I’m dying,” I say slowly. Standing up, I walk around the desk, picking up a brass hourglass and flipping it upside down, watching the blue sand pour. “I don’t have much time. I came here, hoping you could help me.” I swallow, letting my eyes flick up to his face. His expression has fallen, a look of defeat in his eyes. He was hoping I worked, hoping I was a success. My dying meant that yet another of his experiments was a failure. “If anyone can figure out what’s happening and cure me, I know it will be you.”

The clone rises, moving behind me, but I don’t watch him. Instead, I look at what’s left of Tesla floating in the murky, green water.

“Will you help me?” I ask. I’m afraid he’s going to ask for something in return, some caveat that I have to stay here forever, or help him build his robots, but he doesn’t.

The voice at my back answers with one simple word.

“Yes.”

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