A broken sound flew from Silvia's mouth. Reegan's words had meaning Saul couldn't understand, but he recognized the reference from his years in combat. A chill passed over him. Reegan was talking about a war. One that had yet to occur.

Silvia's answering bark of laughter rang with vitriol. "Payne deserved so much more. Oh, Reegan. They brainwashed us all, didn't they?"

Brainwashed? Reegan hadn't ever looked at it that way. Not in any conscious sense. It wasn't as if they'd been kept captive as children. Their lot had been cast by their parents, and wasn't he proof-wasn't Silvia as well-that kids who wanted more, and worked for it, could claw their way free?

His brother hadn't been blessed with Reegan's brains. Instead, he'd possessed courage and loyalty and a blinding sense of righteousness. It had led him to war and then to death. One of several hundred killed in the first African offensive.

"It wasn't a perfect childhood, but we did okay."

"We were labeled and classified from the day we were born. And the only reason you and I and your brother were set free was because we played their game."

"Christ, Silvia. You make it sound so sinister. Everyone had the same chance to study, do well in school, work, try to go to college."

She shook her head. "No. I'm sorry. I'm sure to someone who made a success of themselves, it might seem like that. And for a long time, I believed it too. We're watched, you know."

"You and me?"

"All children are monitored through the cyberschool system. You think everyone gets the same education?"

Reegan's temper started to fray. "Of course not. Look, this isn't news to me. I wrote lessons for the cyberschool. It's normal to deliver curriculum based on aptitude. The more challenging material is offered to the students who have proved they can handle it."

"That's right."

"And you're saying that's wrong?"

"I'm saying it's misused."

"How?"

She lifted her chin, defiant. "What if I told you that profiles for children with lower IQs or chronically below-average grades are deliberately altered so that they don't qualify for secondary educational benefits."

"I wouldn't believe you."

"Why not?"

He swallowed back his first reply and took a close look at her face. Not a hint of deception. "How could you know that?"

"Have you forgotten who my husband is?"

Reegan threw up his hands. "What would be the point? The best candidates get hired. That's a selection process that happens naturally."

"We have the right to choose how we want to spend our lives. Not everyone who's good at math wants to be an accountant. And those who might struggle with that subject but enjoy it shouldn't be shut out of that vocation." She paused, but Reegan had nothing to say. When that became obvious, she continued. "We have no business manipulating people's lives. Everyone deserves a chance at something bigger, even if they might never be a superstar. Reegan, we're taking away their ability to try."

"I never pictured you as a conspiracy theorist." Agitated, Reegan shot to his feet and paced to the window. Despite the pressing need to escape, he found himself lingering over the view. Aside from the panoramic views that first night on the Mall, this was the first time he'd been able to appreciate an entire neighborhood at a glance. Cammie's building stood on a gentle rise, overlooking the surrounding streets. With only the streetlights to showcase the space, it radiated a false sense of peace.

Silvia joined him at the window. With a slow, easy grace, she undid her plait and shook out her hair. "Things are much different here, aren't they? People live a life of their own making. Not one chosen and guided by others."

Despite his efforts to stay aloof, a pull of shame warmed his face. "You're making it sound like some kind of police state." He found Saul's gaze. "It's not like that."

"You're right." She pressed a finger to the glass. "But we're leaning that direction. We're too efficient. Too mechanical. Too inhuman. People aren't machines. We can't treat them like they are. What about Payne? Was it fair to stuff his academic profile with subject matter relating to the glory of war? He was a gifted artist, you know."

Reegan regarded her oddly. "I don't remember that."

"I'm not surprised. Art mysteriously disappeared from his class load around the time he started getting big, strong and fast."

Could that be true? Reegan struggled to recall his own experiences as a cyberschool educator. He'd supported the tailored lesson plans. They had untapped potential.

Which was Silvia's point.

"This is what we were working to change, Victor and I. We weren't trying to overthrow the government. Start a revolution. We just wanted to give our children the right to choose." She turned and leaned against the pane. "I wish so many things. That I could call Victor a monster and walk out the door and never look back. But he believes in this too. Reegan, we can make a difference for these kids. They don't have to be like Payne, brainwashed into believing that they only have one choice."

"You don't need your husband to make a difference. Go it alone."

"I don't have the influence or funds to tackle this on my own. There are those who don't want these things brought to light, as you can imagine." She scrubbed fresh tears from her face. "I think sometimes it's my duty to endure this marriage. And some days...I just can't. Victor is possessive. Insanely jealous. It's gotten worse over time. Yes, he scares me, and there are times I don't think I can take it another minute. That's when I run. He always brings me back."

"And punishes you."

There'd been no question in Saul's tone. Silvia peered closely at him. "You've been down this road."

"With my sister."

Reegan knew this. He stayed silent, curious about Silvia's reaction. She pondered his words for several seconds. "Is she still with him?"

"Not anymore." Saul let her build a tentative smile on her face before adding, "She isn't with anyone. She's dead. He killed her."

Silvia's hands fluttered back to her neck as Saul rose from the couch. His shaking voice carried easily across the room. "She left him three times, but he always knew what to say to bring her back. She was a strong woman. Like you. Educated. Successful. Smart. Now she's dead. Think about that."

"Enough." Reegan waved Saul back onto the couch. "You're not helping."

Silvia swallowed audibly and straightened. "I'm sorry that happened to you."

"Don't be sorry for me." Ignoring Reegan's command, he began pacing the living room like a captive tiger. Reegan watched with pursed lips before turning back to Silvia.

"We need to go back. That part's just not optional." He forestalled her quick protest. "As for what happens when we get there, we can discuss how to handle that. Make a plan." He placed both hands on her slight shoulders. "I'll help you. I promise. I'll get you home alive. I won't turn my back once we get there. You're family, hon. As close as it gets in my book, anyway."

"Thank you, but I'm not sure that'll help." She threw up her hands. "He'll be there waiting for me, probably with Emilio and the others. I won't stand a chance."

"Okay, now that's where your lack of scientific knowledge is hurting you. If all you're doing is counting bodies, then we win that equation. We've seen all three of your bodyguards here. That only leaves D'arco on the other side of the portal. Him against me and you." And hopefully Maxie.

"Couldn't they go back? Now that they've lost us, isn't that what they'll do?"

"They could go back. Anytime. But doing that wouldn't make any difference. It's the nature of the technology. They left after us. They'll return after us. You're thinking of time as a line, something we can jump around on, changing points as we go. It's not like that. It's a loop, and all we can do is bend it. Your husband's men left after me. No matter when they activate the portal, they'll return after we do. That's a constant. But I think they'll stay here, in 2020. Something tells me they're no more informed on the mechanics of time travel than you are."

Saul meandered closer, fingers stroking over his chin. "Wait. Wouldn't that mean Silvia would return just a few minutes after she left?"

"No. I closed that loop when I took the rest of the group back. If she travels back with me, it'll be on a different fold. She'll return when I do. A few minutes after I left 2145 the second time."

Myriad emotions crossed Saul's face. Confusion. Frustration. But not disbelief. Reegan wanted to kiss him for that alone. He was trying, and he had no idea how important that show of trust was to Reegan.

"So it's not as bad as it could be," Saul said. "The odds do favor you. You'll have a head start. You'll have however long it took them to follow you in the first place, right?"

"Yes, but that's not the part I'm worried about." Saul had ignored their most difficult hurdle. "We still have to get to back to St. Brendan's, activate the portal and make the return trip. And my guess is those goons are at the church right now, waiting for us to show up."

That didn't take brilliant deductive work. After losing them at the shelter, D'arco's monkeys' first step would have been to backtrack to Saul's office, hoping Reegan and Silvia would return there. Once they didn't, there'd be little choice but to make camp at the one place in the city where Reegan would have to eventually go. St. Brendan's. "I think we're safe from them for now. We still have the Novikov Principle to deal with, but beyond a few broad safeguards, there's little we can do about that."

Silva sniffed, wiping unshed tears from her eyes. "We could be killed anytime. Is that what you're saying?"

"I'm afraid so. But if it makes you feel any better, we're not the only ones. D'arco's men are causing just as many time ripples as we are. One is already dead."

Silvia's shoulders jerked. "Which one?"

"Bluto. The big one," he said when she blinked in confusion.

"Castor." Silvia buried her face in her hands. "He might have looked like a brute, but he had a soft side too. He always tried to cheer me up with stupid jokes. Damn it! And now you and Saul are caught up in this madness. This is all my fault. I shouldn't have run."

To agree would be cruel and serve no purpose. "You probably should've run, from the little I know of your husband. You just ran in the wrong direction."

Saul paced to the window. Arms folded, he regarded the street below. "At least they don't know where we are."

Reegan grunted his agreement. "But the reprieve isn't permanent. If Silvia and I want to get back to 2145 intact, we'll need to leave as soon as possible." He stared at Saul's back, willing him to turn around. He didn't. "And then we'll need to figure out how to get past the other two."

The situation was bleak. Reegan needed Saul desperately, and he wasn't above begging. He'd laid out the situation in stark truthfulness, a key ingredient missing in their relationship until now. He'd offered nothing. Asked for everything. Not the best recipe for trust.

Saul turned from the window. Reegan braced himself.

"Will they have weapons?"

Reegan blinked through his surprise. "Not anything they carried through the portal. There are safety measures in place to prevent tech being taken back in time. But could they pick guns up here? Sure. I'm willing to bet they know just how to go about it too. Thugs are thugs. Doesn't matter what century they live in. They congregate in similar places, and the language never changes much. If you want to err on the safe side, assume they've armed themselves."

"Okay." Saul accepted it without question. Grabbing a pen off Cammie's coffee table, he sat, waving Reegan over. "This isn't going to be easy. I have some questions. Then we'll make a plan."

Chapter Fifteen.

Saul glanced up from his notes to find both Silvia and Reegan asleep.

Curled into a tight ball, chin tucked against her shoulder, Silvia's shoulders rose and fell on shallow breaths. Even in sleep, part of her remained alert for danger. It wasn't the type of habit that formed overnight, but one that developed over time. The reasons for it had been well-explained, but they still made Saul's heart pound fast with anger.

His gaze drifted to Reegan, who sprawled inelegantly across the sofa, legs spread and arms askew. Open and trusting, despite everything. Just looking at him calmed the frantic beat of Saul's heart. He dropped the pencil and arched his back into a stretch, wincing when his spine cracked.

Every inch of his body hurt. One year off the force, and he'd gone soft. He wouldn't have believed it a week ago. His physique hadn't noticeably changed, but then the pain wasn't completely physical. His responses had dulled. Not so surprising. His stresses-except for the past few days-had morphed from the straightforward adrenaline rush of police work to the daily worries of earning a living and staying sober. No question which sucked more from his soul.

He stood on stiff legs and shuffled toward the kitchen, switching off the lamp and throwing the room into darkness. Let them rest, at least for a little while. They were all running on empty.

Fetching a glass from Cammie's cabinet, he poured and drank three glasses of water from the tap, then rifled through the refrigerator for something edible.

"Anything good?"

Saul popped his head up, staring into the dark, but the bright light of the fridge had blinded him. "Reegan?"

"Yeah. I'm starving. Please tell me there's food."

"Checking."

He sensed more than heard Reegan come up behind him, but the tentative hands that settled on his hips were impossible to ignore. Teasing fingers slid beneath the waistband of his jeans. Saul breathed through a rush of lust, grabbed a Tupperware container, and shoved it behind him. "What's that?"

The top peeled off with a snap. "Looks like lasagna."

Good enough. Saul stood, dodging away from Reegan's maddening touch. "Toss it in the microwave."

Silence. Saul glanced over his shoulder to find Reegan staring at the plastic container with a thoughtful frown. He set his hands on his hips. "Problem?"

"No," Reegan said, drawing the word out. "I've just never used one before."

"A microwave?" Clarification was often necessary with Reegan.

"Right. A microwave."

"No microwaves in the future?" By Reegan's patiently condescending look, Saul judged not. "Let me guess, you have replicators, like on Star Trek."

"Forgive me, I don't understand the reference. But to answer your question, we use a 3D cook system. It handles most everything." Reegan frowned at the plastic container in his hands. "I probably shouldn't be talking about this."

"What harm could it do at this point?"

"That's unfortunately true," Reegan muttered. He looked to the ceiling, gathering his thoughts. "Let's see. How best to explain this? Have you ever seen a 3D printer?"

"Yes."

Reegan's eyes lit up. "Well there you go!"

"You use 3D technology to make meals." Could this conversation get any more farfetched?

"Yes. So will you someday. The process vastly reduces the environmental footprint of food production."

"How?"

"The most basic organic matter can power the system. It's easy, cheap and clean to produce."

"Jesus, it really is like Star Trek."

Reegan cocked his head. "I'll take your word for it."