At the volcano’s base, a fire was consuming the forest, lit either from the lava or the volcanic bombs thrown during the eruption.

  Below, in the desert, he spotted the herd of dinosaurs and reptiles moving away over a high dune.

  He had hoped to avoid the desert. But the fire made his choice for him.

  Sam began hiking down the ridge. His body ached, but he pushed through. With each step, the smoke from the forest fire grew thicker, joining the volcanic cloud of ash spreading out, slowly blotting out the sun.

  By the time the forest gave way to the desert, the shadow from above was already spreading across the sand.

  Nearby, Sam spotted a massive bony rib cage sticking up. As he studied the skeleton, a sense of dread settled over him. He recognized the creature—it had been one of the exhibits in Daniele’s Triassic creature picture book. One near the end.

  The remains before him were from the apex predator of the era: the Prestosuchus. It was a large reptile shaped like a crocodile, except it could walk on its hind legs and had small arms similar to a T. rex. Upon seeing the picture in Daniele’s book, that’s what Sam had thought: it was like a love child of a T. rex and a crocodile. Mentally, he decided to simply call it a giant croc, because, well, Prestosuchus was a mouthful, even to think.

  Archaeologists had found giant croc skeletons up to twenty-five feet long. This one was the same shape, but it was larger. At least forty feet, if Sam had to guess. There was no doubt that this was the biggest carnivore he had seen since arriving in the Triassic.

  The giant crocs would be hard to deal with. If they were still around. His gaze moved over to the swamp, where the trees were swaying.

  Sam realized then that the bones sticking up were what had made the black shadows in the desert that he had previously seen from the ridge.

  There were more of them across the sand. A lot more.

  Beyond the skeleton, he spotted another oddity: the twinkle of metal. The last rays of sunlight peeking through the cloud of smoke and ash danced across the small object, reflecting as though it was a diamond half-buried.

  Sam trudged across the sand, feet sinking as he went. As he approached, he realized the metal was attached to another human skeleton, to the femur, just like the man who had attacked him. The object was the same, too: three pins with an Absolom Sciences serial number.

  These bones were pitted and older, though he had no idea how much older. Hundreds of years? Thousands?

  He was so caught up in his thoughts that he barely noticed the dinosaur rushing past him. Another skipped past, throwing sand in its wake.

  They paid him no mind. Their only thought was getting away from the volcanic catastrophe taking place.

  Sam collected the three pins and shoved them in his pocket.

  On the ridge, the wildfire was burning fast now, carried by the wind. From the desert, looking up, it was a stunning scene. The forest was alight with flames, belching smoke into the sky where the cloud of ash grew, spreading across the world like a dark, thick blanket.

  Another dinosaur charged past, propelling itself on its hind legs, forelimbs dancing back and forth. A quadruped barreled by next.

  At the base of the hill, where the desert began, the forest seemed to expel every animal it had left, the fast-moving fire driving them. They were large and small and flowed like waves from the ocean toward Sam.

  Behind him, he heard what sounded like gunfire.

  He turned and immediately realized what it was: branches and fallen logs breaking under the massive feet of giant crocs emerging from the swamp. They trampled the wide bushes and dug into the sand, rushing forward in leaps and bounds, their long jaws open, teeth gleaming as they barreled toward Sam.

  THIRTY-SIX

  In the basement of Hiro’s home in Las Vegas, Adeline writhed on the floor, trying to break free of his grasp.

  “Stop!” he shouted, his breath hot on her ear. “Please. I just want to show you.”

  That gave Adeline pause. Hiro relaxed his grip.

  She took that opening. She planted the base of her hand on the floor, pushed with her feet, and broke free. She scrambled toward the stairwell. Her fingers were almost at the baluster when Hiro caught her again.

  He wrapped an arm around her waist and dragged her backward.

  Adeline balled up her fists and pummeled the man. Hiro hung his head, trying to keep the blows from hitting his face, and charged forward.

  At the metal door in the basement, he drew something from his pocket and tapped on it, and said, “She’s here. I’ve got her. Come help.”

  Adeline beat harder on him, but that didn’t seem to faze him. He was like a robot on a mission.

  “Yes. At the house in Vegas. Hurry.”

  He dropped the phone, the glass and plastic clattering on the hard floor, and charged through the doorway, dragging Adeline with him. He slammed the metal door and held his thumb on the panel on the other side, locking it.

  He released Adeline then, and she gripped the door handle and tried to turn it, but it wouldn’t budge.

  Hiro put his hands on his knees and gasped for breath.

  Adeline spun on him and raised her fists.

  Hiro staggered away from her, down what Adeline now realized was a narrow concrete passage with beady LED lights hanging above.

  “Let me out!” she yelled.

  Hiro didn’t turn back. Or answer her. He kept trudging through the tunnel, as if he was running from her now. That surprised Adeline. She gave chase, and Hiro began to jog.

  “Hey. Where are you going?”

  When she caught up to him, she grabbed his shirt and pinned him to the wall.

  “What’re you doing?”

  “You want to see it, right?”

  Adeline squinted. “What?”

  “My secret.”

  “What secret?”

  “What I’m hiding here. That’s why you came.”

  Slowly, she released her grip on his shirt.

  “Follow me,” Hiro said, turning and marching deeper into the tunnel.

  They walked in silence. Adeline took out the burner phone, but there was no reception in the tunnel, which explained why Hiro had disappeared from the BuddyLoc app. As they walked, Adeline wished she had left a note for Daniele. Or sent an email to herself, revealing where she was. No one knew she was here. What if this was some sort of dungeon where Hiro was going to imprison her?

  But his body language told her that he wasn’t a threat. It was almost like he was afraid of her now. Or maybe he was scared of whatever was waiting at the end of the tunnel.

  Up ahead, Adeline spotted a metal door, much like the one in the basement of the home where they had entered the tunnel. There was a panel too, the same type as at the other end.

  Hiro pressed his thumb to the glass and the door lock clicked. Hiro opened it, revealing an oval room with three metal doors like the one they had come through.

  In the center, on the far wall, was a wide wooden door. Sitting in front of it was a muscle-clad man perched on a small stool. He was looking down at a hardcover novel encased in plastic, the type a library might wrap around a book. He closed the tome and slid off the stool with a creak.

  “Dr. Sato,” he said. “Forget something?”

  “No. Let us in.”

  The burly man eyed Adeline. “She’s a bit young.”

  Hiro’s silent stare was like the sun. The muscle man—a bouncer, Adeline assumed—was like a stick of butter. With every second, he melted.

  Finally, he reached back and opened the door and held out his hand.

  Adeline stood rooted on the spot, taking in the scene.

  Tables spread out, wall-to-wall, filled with people sitting at them, studying the cards in their hands, stacks of chips arrayed around them like walls of a fortress, some tall, others crumbling. Dozens of conversations mingled in the air, which was tinged with the clouds from vaping pens.

  Adeline stepped forward, through the door, and joined Hiro at the edge of the room.

  An attendant in a white shirt and black vest raised a radio to his mouth and whispered something, then pressed a finger to his earpiece, listening.

  He turned to Hiro. “We have a spot for you, Dr. Sato.”

  Hiro turned to Adeline. “Seen enough?”

  “Yes,” she said quietly.

  In the tunnel, on the way back, they walked in silence for a while. Finally, Hiro said, “It’s a sickness.”

  “Gambling?”

  “I wish I could go back and never place that first bet. Never experience the rush from that first win.”

  Adeline wasn’t sure what to say to that.

  Hiro looked back at her. “Daniele didn’t tell you?”

  “About the gambling? No. She knows?”

  “Of course. She helped me. She holds my shares in Absolom in a trust. Ninety percent of the dividends go to charity. I gamble with the rest. That feeds the hunger.”

  He said it like a fact, but Adeline could hear the shame in his voice.

  “As I said. It’s a sickness.”

  “That’s why you needed to work on Absolom. For gambling debts back then.”

  “Yes.”

  At the door, Hiro pressed his thumb to the panel. When the metal slab swung open, another figure was standing in the dark basement.

  Elliott.

  So that’s who Hiro had called.

  His face was grim, but as he stared at Adeline, a small smile began to form. “It was unwise to come here. And very brave. You’re a lot like your father: courageous to a fault. That’s one of the reasons I loved him so much.”

  “I want answers.”

  “You deserve answers.”

  Hiro closed the door, shutting out the light from the tunnel. The three of them stood in near darkness, only the glow from the panel beside the door and the moonlight shining down the stairwell lighting the space. Adeline spoke first.

  “Who killed Nora?”

  Elliott answered: “I don’t know.”

  “Who do you think killed her?”

  “Daniele.”

  “Why?”

  “She’s in love with your father.”

  “What?”

  “It’s the only thing that makes sense. She killed Nora because she knew Sam and Nora were in love with each other.”

  “But why would she frame my father?”

  “To have him all for herself. To control him completely and hide him away from the world.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Think about it, Adeline. You know we’re trying to get him back, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “If we’re successful, what do you think will happen?”

  “We try to prove his innocence—”

  Elliott shook his head. “My dear, that ship has sailed.”

  Adeline swallowed, the words like a final judgment on the dream she had held onto. “Okay,” she said slowly. “What happens when we get him back?”

  “Did you know Daniele bought an island in the Pacific?”

  “No.”

  “She’s working on treaties with governments around the world to make it a sovereign nation. She’s even begun seasteading to expand it. She’s richer than any of us—and she has wealth beyond Absolom Sciences, money from before, from the other start-ups she funded and public market investments. Things don’t add up about Daniele. What we know is that she’s building something. A sort of paradise hidden away from the world.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “We think she wants to get Sam back, take him there, and build a new society.” Elliott cut his eyes to Hiro. “We don’t know what her plans are for us. But she needs us for now.”

  “Why?”

  “Absolom Two. After we created the first version, innovation on the technology essentially stopped. But I never did. I kept researching, experimenting.”

  “Because you want to save Charlie.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Daniele told me you can’t change the past.”

  “That’s one opinion. What do you think?”

  Adeline laughed. “I don’t know. I’m not a scientist.”

  “As it turns out,” Elliott said, “we don’t think Daniele is either. And that’s just one of the things she’s lying about.”

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  In the desert, there was no tree for Sam to climb to safety. Wave after wave of animals flowed from the forest onto the sand, fleeing the fire.

  The herd was easy pickings for the giant crocs pouring out of the swamp. The carnage was breathtaking, like seeing an army of Godzillas feasting on baby T. rexes and assorted reptiles and dinosaurs.

  Sam knew he couldn’t outrun the dinosaurs. Or the crocs. He certainly couldn’t fight either.

  Luckily, there was one place to hide. He rushed toward the croc skeleton. The ribs sticking out of the sand weren’t as wide as Sam, but if he turned, they almost entirely hid him. He hoped it would be enough.

  As the herd flowed past, he waited, trying to control his breathing. Moving could be deadly.

  He felt like he was in a human roulette wheel. If a massive animal crashed into the rib he was hiding behind, it would be his end. If not, he would live. Sometimes one’s life came down to simple chance. This was one of those times.

  Several seelos bounded in the air, their claws catching the bones, and propelled themselves forward, landing in the sand and sinking as if it was mud, their hind legs disappearing almost to their torsos.

  A few feet away, a small dinosaur slammed into the croc skeleton. Its head stuck through the ribs, and it screeched before drawing back and charging again, this time breaking through before it scurried out the end.

  Sam stood as still as he could, his body aching from the first volcano blast. He waited, watching the herd move past.

  Above, the thick dome of dark clouds kept pushing down. The smell of sulfur filled the air, and the sound of the carnage was its symphony.

  Soon, it was as dark as night, and the heat from the fire warmed the air.

  Another boom swept across the desert, throwing Sam into the ribs across the way, the spear flying from his grip.

  The shockwave hit the herd like an invisible hand sweeping across the sand, rolling the animals over. It stirred a dust cloud in its wake, the sand in the air seeming to fight a war with the smoke above.

  Sam squeezed his eyes shut and crouched down low.

  All around him, he heard a spitting sound. Curiosity got the better of him, and he cracked his eyes enough to see the desert rippling where super-hot rocks were landing. They were volcano bombs, and where they touched the sand, green rings of glass spread out.

  They would have been beautiful if they weren’t so deadly. If one hit Sam, he was finished. The super-hot rock would go through him like an oversized bullet.

  He lay still, listening, waiting, feeling like a man in a deadly dunking booth, hoping one of the bombs wouldn’t land on his back.

  Behind him, he heard a screech and something stirred in the sand. He turned. Just beyond the skeleton he was hiding in, a seelo was struggling to get to its feet. It had been trampled by the herd but only maimed. A deep gash ran down its left hind leg.

  It took a step forward on shaky legs, then another, more steadily.

  It stopped and shook its head as if trying to clear it. Slowly, it turned until its eyes fixed on Sam. He exhaled as the beast opened its mouth and charged at him.

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  I‌ n the basement of Hiro’s home in Las Vegas, Adeline said to Elliott, “I want to hear what Daniele is lying about, but first, I want you to tell me what you’re doing in Death Valley—what you’re digging up out there.”

  For a long moment, both Elliott and Hiro were silent.

  Finally, Elliott said, “What has Daniele told you about Absolom Two?”

  “Vague generalities that only create more questions. I believe you know that routine.”

  “Here’s a straight answer, Adeline: Absolom Two allows us to transport matter back to any timeline we want. Including our own. But there’s a problem.”

  “Which is?”

  “We’re still not able to send things to exact times. Or locations. My breakthrough was figuring out how to target Absolom to specific universes—but they have to be universes created from our own.”

  “Why?”

  “Entanglement. It’s the only bridge between the universes, otherwise they’re completely separate. We’d have no way to even know they existed. In my experiments, I used entanglement like a tracking beacon, as a string pulled between the separate timelines, a string we could use to guide something else to that universe. All I needed was matter that was already entangled with the target universe to tag the payload. That breakthrough is what I showed the other Absolom scientists the night Nora was killed.”

  Elliott inhaled sharply. Adeline sensed regret on his part.

  “Of course, they instantly knew what it meant—that Absolom was now capable of changing our past. Nora and Sam thought it was the most dangerous thing ever created, that it would be the end of our reality. Nora even thought it was the answer to the Fermi Paradox—that Absolom Two was how all sufficiently developed universes ended, in causality failures.”

  “But you wanted to use it, didn’t you, Elliott?”

  “Of course.”

  “For Charlie.”

  “Yes, for Charlie,” he said, turning away from her. “But Daniele was also in favor of using it.”

  “Why?”

  Elliott turned back to her. “We have a theory now. We believe Daniele knows that Absolom Two has already been used.”

  “How? When?”

  “We don’t know yet. In fact, you now know as much as we do.”

  “No, I don’t,” Adeline said. “Tell me how it works. Absolom Two.”

  “No,” Elliott replied, studying her. “You tell me. This is a good exercise for you. Go ahead. You’ve been working at Absolom Sciences, studying how the machine works. You know we’re working on the time and location delivery for Absolom Two. You know we’re testing it in Death Valley. How do you think we’re conducting those tests?”