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mission in the past for two years and hasn’t done a time jump since,” Thomas said. “Before that, he had a bad habit of using his time travel for personal reasons. He jumped too often and sustained an injury. His last jump for this current mission nearly killed him. The risk of bringing him back was too much. Dr. Ludwig decided that he needed to stay and be the field man for the Tempus gene experiment. He still has a chance to heal; it’s very possible he will in a year or two.”
    “Wow … I don’t even—”
    Thomas waved my response off as if to say there was no need to feel sorry for him. Maybe because he did it to himself? Or maybe because he was happy in 1987? How could he enjoy living in that chaotic and dangerous world?
    “Now we need to verify our impact,” Thomas said, opening my handheld computer and holding it out for me. “What was that year I mentioned earlier? The first detection of the Tempus gene?”
    “2234,” I said right away.
    “Correct.” He pointed to the tiny screen in front of me. “Look it up, again.”
    I typed in the question and nearly dropped the computer onto the hard floor. “2208 … how … I mean … we did this? Changed the date by twenty-six years?”
    Thomas’s face split into a wide grin. “Yes, we did this. This is why you’re here, Blake. Do you understand how important you are now? How much of an impact you can have on creating a future that is bigger and better than every man and woman in 1987 could ever imagine?”
    All I could do was nod and try to hide my shock. Could I really be that special? That important? Me, the fourth son of Jessica and Stephen? A hero to my entire country?
    And I knew right then I’d do anything to make sure I didn’t let them down. This was too important.
    *   *   *
    “So, that’s what Grayson meant when he said he’d been a doctor in two different centuries,” I said. “I was born there, you know, at NYU Medical Center. Me and Courtney both, obviously. Wouldn’t it be so weird if Grayson was running around the hospital at the same time as Dr. Melvin?”
    “Dr. Melvin?” Blake said, suddenly looking over at me, now seated in the only chair in the room. “Andrew Melvin?”
    “Yeah, that’s him,” I said. “Why? You know him, right? The creator of experiment Axelle?”
    I swallowed back the bile drifting up to my throat as the image of Dr. Melvin dead on the floor of his office replayed in my mind.
    “Yeah, we’ve met once,” Blake said with a sigh. “Your friend Mason is a product of the Tempus Gene Project. He was conceived in Grayson’s lab and delivered by him. That’s why your side wanted Mason.”
    “They put him in the CIA really young,” I said. “And he’s a genius, I thought that was why.”
    Blake shook his head. “They knew he’d be a genius in your present long before he joined the CIA. Most likely his identity was revealed and they took him to protect him from being studied.”
    “Wow, so everyone in your present is smarter? That’s so crazy,” I said. “Do you know any more spawn of the Tempus Gene Project?”
    Blake’s face clouded with some emotion I couldn’t nail down. Grief or longing or just sadness. Whichever it was, it instantly made him look five years older.
    “Just one,” he said.
    My thoughts shifted suddenly and I eyed Blake with suspicion. “Wait a second … Grayson’s a doctor.”
    “Uh-huh…?”
    “If he wanted you to show me this memory file, he would have cut it out of your foot himself and stitched it up properly,” I said. “And wouldn’t he have wanted you to show it to my dad weeks ago?”
    Blake’s mouth fell open. He was caught. Obviously, his being taken from home at fifteen to work for the government didn’t include any form of CIA-type training because he had made too many mistakes to count since we walked into this room.
    A knock on the door startled both of us. As if to answer my question, Blake ejected the memory chip, hid it in the