KASIA PLACED HER TABLET on its swivel stand. She made sure her wireless keyboard was connected through the Wi-Fi while she kept running decryption programs on her desktop computer. The tablet showed footage of the multiple vortexes around Philly. One had popped up in the middle of the ice rink at Dilworth Park. Another one appeared in the middle of Market Street. The one in her backyard was still there, but it had stopped growing.

  Her mom and dad had gone out extra early and gotten her some serious upgrades for her equipment to help her get Rahim back and hopefully plug all the holes that were popping up all over the timeline. The morning news was calling it an unprecedented event.

  Kasia thought that was what her mom would’ve called a grand understatement. In addition to the new tablet, she’d gotten a new laptop and a router that looked like the engine of a car.

  “Mom, Dad, this is too much,” Kasia had said as they unloaded the equipment.

  “Button, those time-vortex things are showing up everywhere. This isn’t just about Rahim anymore,” her dad said.

  “You know if those government guys are monitoring my activity, they’ll eventually notice all this new equipment,” Kasia replied.

  “Don’t you worry about them. At this point, I trust you to fix this way more than I do the government.”

  * * *

  Kasia touched the screen of the laptop sitting to the left of the desktop. The sound of a phone ringing filled the room.

  The phone rang and rang.

  Come on, Ra. Answer, Kasia thought.

  She was close to breaking the encryption on the last satellite. It was quickly becoming a race against time. Could she break the encryption before the government realized it and threw up an even more complicated firewall? She wanted to make sure the phone was fully charged and ready to go when she did.

  The ringing stopped abruptly.

  “Okay, that’s cruddy,” Kasia murmured.

  Iago appeared outside her window. She had reprogrammed him to fly around the house and keep an eye out for the agents.

  She touched the screen and accessed his camera.

  It wasn’t the agents.

  It was Dr. and Mrs. Reynolds. They were at the front door.

  Kasia let out a long sigh. Her mom and dad had gone to the co-op. They had let her stay home today so she could keep working on helping Rahim. So it was just her and Iago at the house. She went downstairs and opened the door. Dr. Reynolds was wearing a long black coat. Mrs. Reynolds had on a thick plush sweater.

  “Hello, Kasia. Can we talk with you for a moment?” Dr. Reynolds asked.

  Kasia nodded.

  “We just wanted to ask you—and please understand you’re not in any trouble—do you know where Rahim is?”

  Kasia bit her bottom lip. “I don’t know where he is right now. But I promise as soon as I hear something, I’ll let you know.”

  Mrs. Reynolds wiped her eyes. “We don’t care where he’s gone. We just want him home. If you are talking to him or communicating with him, please let him know he isn’t in trouble. We just want him home.”

  “So do I, Mrs. Reynolds. So do I,” Kasia said. As she spoke, a fire engine screamed down the street. The ground beneath their feet shook for at least five seconds. Dr. Reynolds stumbled to his right and grabbed the railing on the steps. Mrs. Reynolds leaned against the doorjamb. Kasia kept her balance by extending her arms and waving them in small circles. A few of her mother’s sculptures fell off the foyer shelf and shattered against the floor.

  Finally, the ground stopped shaking.

  “Was . . . was that an earthquake? In Philly?” Mrs. Reynolds asked.

  “I don’t think so.” Kasia pointed down the street. The fire truck had come to screeching stop. Blocking its way was what appeared to be an old-fashioned steam-powered locomotive engine. The kind that was popular in the Old West. Kasia knew it was from the Old West because last year she’d built a scale-model train for her history assignment. Behind the engine was the now-familiar wavy vortex. A plume of smoke rose from the chimney of the train engine.

  “I really have to get back to my homework,” Kasia said.

  “Uh-huh,” Dr. Reynolds said. He was staring at the train engine.

  “If I hear from Rahim, I’ll let you know.”

  “Please do that, Kasia,” Mrs. Reynolds said. She was staring at the train engine as well.

  Kasia stepped back and closed the door. We gotta get you back, Rahim, before a T. rex shows up in LOVE Park.

  “GET UP!”

  Rahim rolled over on his side and opened his eyes.

  Ms. Lottie was standing in the bedroom doorway. Her face was drawn, and her mouth was set in a harsh straight line.

  “I’m . . . I’m awake. I’m ready to go,” Rahim said. He wasn’t really ready, but he figured he didn’t have a choice.

  “Get up! Omar is gone, and I know you know where he went!” Ms. Lottie yelled.

  Rahim blinked his eyes. “Wh-what?” he stammered.

  Ms. Lottie stepped into the room. “He’s gone! I came to wake y’all up for breakfast, and he’s gone! Now where did he go?” she said.

  Rahim reached for his back pocket. The phone was gone.

  Oh no, he thought.

  “Ma’am, I don’t know. I swear. He was here when I went to sleep last night,” Rahim said. That was true. Omar had gone to bed after Grandpa Sam had scolded them. But now he had the phone and could be anywhere.

  “Oh Lord. Oh Lord, have mercy. I gotta call Sam. I gotta call his daddy.” Ms. Lottie rushed out of the room and down the stairs.

  Rahim put his head in his hands. He felt sick. Omar was gone with Rahim’s only way home.

  When he raised his head, there was the figure in the metallic-green trench coat and the fencing helmet standing in the doorway. It was holding up four fingers on one hand. The other hand was balled up into a fist.

  Rahim closed his eyes and mumbled, “There isn’t anyone there. This isn’t real. There’s just something wrong with your head because of all this time-travel stuff.”

  He opened his eyes.

  The figure was still there, still holding up four fingers and a tightened fist like it was going to punch someone. Suddenly the figure’s hand gestures made sense.

  “Oh man,” Rahim said.

  The figure in the trench coat nodded.

  Then it disappeared.

  It didn’t fade away like a spirit. It just vanished. One minute it was in the doorway. The next minute it was gone.

  Rahim ran down the stairs.

  He walked into the kitchen and saw Ms. Lottie on the phone. Cy was leaning against the fridge. Shaka was sitting at the table.

  “I think I might know where he went,” Rahim said.

  * * *

  “You really think he’s on the bus with this Four the Hard Way group?” Grandpa Sam asked. He was standing in the kitchen with his arms crossed so tightly across his chest Rahim thought his sleeves were going to rip.

  “Yes, sir,” Rahim said.

  “And how did he get on a tour bus?” Ms. Lottie asked.

  “I don’t know how . . . I’m pretty sure that’s where he went.” Rahim hated lying, but he didn’t think they’d believe that Omar had used his phone to teleport himself onto the bus. Which was exactly what he had done while Rahim had been drooling on his pillow.

  Grandpa Sam took a deep breath. “Shaka, you follow these guys. Where’s their next show?”

  Shaka shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, I knew they were coming to Philly, but that was about it. I didn’t really care where else they were going.”

  “Pittsburgh,” Rahim said.

  “What?” Grandpa Sam said.

  “Their next show after Philly was supposed to be Pittsburgh, but they stop in Spring Run,” Rahim said. Except that wasn’t really true anymore, was it? According to the Wikipedia article he’d read about Four the Hard Way, they’d stopped in Spring Run to wait for the Sultan to be released from the hospital after he got hit by a car. But because Omar and Rahim had been at the concert, he didn’t get hit, so the group had no reason to stop. So they were probably still on the road.

  “Let’s go. You and me and Shaka. It’s four hours from here to Pittsburgh. With traffic they probably haven’t gotten that far.” His grandfather pulled out his car keys.

  “Me?” Rahim asked.

  “You know what the bus looks like, don’t you?” he said. “Come on.”

  “Grandpa Sam, if Omar is on this bus, they will find him and pull over and call us. I don’t think they wanna be accused of kidnapping a twelve-year-old,” Ms. Lottie said.

  “I don’t trust these rappers to do the right thing.” He growled the word rappers like it tasted sour.

  “They really aren’t bad guys. They’re actually kinda nerdy,” Rahim said.

  “Huh? What are you talking about?” Cy said.

  “I mean, when we went on the tour bus, they had comic books all over the place. MC Juice collects Star Wars action figures. Rock G reads most of the time. Too Smooth likes kung fu movies and math. Like, he likes math a lot,” Rahim said.

  “Well, I officially don’t like them anymore,” Shaka said.

  “I don’t care how nerdy they are. I can’t have my son out there by himself.”

  “Like Ronald is?” Ms. Lottie said.

  “I told you I’ve made up my mind about that,” Grandpa Sam said.

  “Weren’t you the one who said we couldn’t just turn him over to the authorities?” Ms. Lottie said.

  “We are not talking about Ronald right now. We have to get Omar back. Come on. Let’s go.”

  “If Omar is on that bus, I hope they are treating him . . . well, just like I’m sure Ronald’s people want someone to treat him well,” Ms. Lottie said.

  “She got ya there, Sam,” Cy said.

  “We’ll talk about this later.” Grandpa Sam headed for the door. Shaka got up and lightly thumped Rahim on the arm as he passed him. Rahim fell in line as the three of them walked out the door.

  “I figure we get out the city and we can . . .” Grandpa Sam’s voice trailed off.

  A vortex was swirling across the street from the house. The air inside it rippled like water in a pond after someone had tossed a rock into it.

  Short, squat gray-feathered birds with sharp-hooked beaks ran out of the vortex. Six of them crossed the street in a flock and flapped down the sidewalk. They were each about the size of a cocker spaniel.

  “Wh-wh-what . . . what . . . ?” Grandpa Sam stam-mered.

  “Dodos,” Rahim said.

  “Say what?” Shaka said.

  “Those are dodo birds. I learned about them in science class.”

  “Didn’t they go extinct, like, three hundred years ago?” Grandpa Sam asked.

  “Yes, sir. Yes, they did. Mr. Reynolds, I think before we get on the road I need to tell you something. Kasia said I should keep quiet, but I think it’s too late for any of that,” Rahim said.

  “Does what you have to tell us have to do with Omar?” Grandpa Sam was still staring at the dodos as they alternately harassed and avoided people on the sidewalk.

  “Yeah. It’s about Omar. It’s about me. It’s about all of us.” Rahim watched as the dodos crossed the street again. “It’s about time.”

  “ANSWER THE PHONE,” Kasia mumbled.

  Iago was sitting on the desk next to her. The police and the fire department were still out in the street trying to move the train engine. She figured the agents wouldn’t want to wade through all of that to get to her. Plus, with the temporal instability currently surrounding her house, she kept Iago inside, afraid he might get sucked into a vortex and end up in the Stone Age.

  Where was Rahim? Why wasn’t he answering the phone? It was just ringing and ringing like a broken doorbell.

  “Hello?” a voice said finally.

  You’re not Rahim, Kasia thought. She grabbed her wireless keyboard and pushed a few keys. A voice-modulating program came online.

  “You’re not Rahim,” Kasia said. The voice that came from her speakers to stretch out across time and space sounded like a robot with a bad cold.

  “Uh, no. I’m Omar. I don’t know who Rahim is. I’ve got my friend Ronald’s phone.”

  “Oh, beans and rice!” Kasia said as she sat up straight. Omar was Dr. Reynolds’s first name. She spoke very slowly. “Omar, why do you have Ronald’s phone?”

  She heard what sounded like the roar of a motor.

  “Well, see, I wanted to get out of my parents’ house. They never let me do anything and—”

  “Omar. I’m going to ask you again. Where is Ra—er, I mean Ronald, and why do you have his phone?” Kasia said.

  Omar gulped. “I, um, borrowed it. I wanted to go on tour with Four the Hard Way. But now I’m on their bus and stuck in the bathroom and it sounds like they are all arguing and . . . I’m kinda scared,” he said. “I didn’t really think this through.”

  “Really? I’m shocked,” Kasia deadpanned.

  “Who are you?” Omar said. “You’re not very nice.”

  “I don’t have time to be nice. The space-time continuum is being ripped apart.”

  “The what?”

  “Never mind. I’m going to assume that you used the phone to teleport yourself onto the bus, right?” Kasia said.

  “Uh . . . yeah,” Omar said.

  “Has anyone seen you?” Kasia asked.

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  “Okay. Here’s what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna go home.”

  “I can’t! My dad is gonna kill me!”

  Kasia rolled her eyes.

  “Gosh, you’re just like Rahim. Listen, your dad being angry at you is really the last—and I mean the last—thing we need to be worrying about right now. Time itself is being pulled and stretched, and I’m kinda afraid it’s gonna crumble like graham crackers dunked in milk. So, you’re gonna go home. You’re gonna give Ronald his phone back, and you’re gonna try to forget all about this, or I’ll cut the phone off and leave you trapped on that bus with a bunch of spoiled musicians who will probably drop you at the next intersection.”

  She couldn’t really cut the phone off, but she had to sound scary and official. Truth be told, Rahim’s coming home might not stop what they had accidentally put into motion. But if she was being honest right now, she didn’t care. She just wanted her friend home and safe.

  She could fix the timeline later. But none of that was going to happen if she couldn’t persuade the younger version of Dr. Reynolds to go home.

  “You really think time is falling apart?” Omar asked.

  “I just saw an Old West cowboy train come flying down my street,” Kasia said. “I live in North Philly.”

  Omar didn’t say anything for a few seconds, and then, “Okay. I’ll go home. Do you think you could tell my dad about the whole time-stream thing? You know, maybe that will keep him from grounding me until I’m twenty-one.”

  “Yeah, sure. But you gotta get Ronald his phone back. Like, now. Like, right now. Like, with the quickness,” Kasia said.

  “Okay, I will,” Omar said. “But can I ask you something first?”

  “What?” Kasia said.

  “Are you and Ronald aliens?”

  “Go home, Omar.”

  * * *

  “I don’t wanna sell our music for a car commercial!” Too Smooth yelled as he opened the bathroom door. There was a kid standing there holding a huge cell phone.

  “Hey, you’re the kid from last night. What are you doing here? Oh man, did you hide out in here?” Too Smooth said.

  “I . . . I wanted to go on the tour,” Omar said. Saying it out loud suddenly made him feel very foolish.

  “Come out of there, little man. Let’s call your parents,” Too Smooth said. Omar followed him as they walked toward the front of the bus.

  “We got us a stowaway,” Too Smooth said. The Sultan popped his head up and peered over the backrest of his seat.

  “Say what? Oh snap, that’s little man from last night. Yo, you saved my life,” the Sultan said, nodding toward his two cousins. “You a better bodyguard than these two.”

  “Stanley, tell Roger to pull into the next rest stop so we can get . . . What’s your name, man?” Too Smooth asked.

  “Omar.”

  “Yeah, so we can get Omar back to his parents.”

  “Stop calling me Stanley!” the Sultan said. He got up and walked to the front of the bus to talk to the driver.

  “He’s hated that name since we was kids. Now, what are you doing here? I know your peeps are probably worried sick,” Too Smooth said. He sat down and gestured for Omar to sit down in the seat across the aisle.

  “You don’t understand,” Omar said. “They don’t let us do anything fun. My pop is always yelling at us about school and college and working hard. I mean, I like school and I want to go to college, but I want to do other stuff too.” He didn’t feel that afraid anymore. It was really easy to talk to Too Smooth.

  “Yo, I’ma let you in on a secret. I love performing. Being in front of a live crowd, ain’t nothing like it for real. And I love meeting people I look up to. Like, we played a show a few weeks ago with Goodie Mob and the Roots. But it ain’t always fun. Being on tour can get old. I miss my folks. I miss my friends back home. I miss good food. I miss my bed. I get homesick sometimes,” Too Smooth said. He paused for a moment and looked out the window.

  “What I’m saying is, this ain’t all the fun and games you think it is, little man. Real talk. And I know your pops might seem like he’s being tough on you, but that’s because he wants the best for you. I promise you that. And you probably done scared him and your mom to death, man.”

  “Yeah,” Omar said. He felt like there was a lump in his throat. The air brakes of the bus let out a long hiss as they slowed down and eased into a rest stop.