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The body toppled over as Ethan pushed it off and sat up, looking dazed. The choking noise began to slow and then stopped.

They’d made it outside, but the thermite magnesium grenade had not been set. Blake looked around, suddenly feeling the weight of failure and indecision upon his shoulders. This was not just a facility for evil; by the twinkling lights ahead, it looked like there was a town surrounding the area. Many of those people might be innocents, or children.

But what of the horrors unleashed if nothing is done?

Jackman and his men were going to be overtaken, and from there the Russians would send someone back, even if it wasn’t Gernot. Blake had little doubt that the next candidate would be just as terrible.

Ethan was taking in the view of the small city beyond the nuclear power plant, and Blake recalled the scenes that had played out in front of him that day in Wallace’s office.

The devastation of New York; buildings leveled; the Statue of Liberty collapsing. America under attack, falling to the enemy. Families slaughtered. Children dead or dying in their mother’s arms. The conflict touching the whole world as the globe fell under the thumb of the Sons of Stalin, bowing to the oppressive rule of their warped ideology.

There was a choice to be made. Here. Now. What would it be? New York? America? The world? Or … that tiny geographic place on the horizon gracing the northern edge of this hellhole?

Blake didn’t want this burden, but it had been handed to him. He came to a decision.

His twin looked back at him, and their eyes met. “No,” Ethan said with a gasp.

“I’m sorry, Ethan. This has to be done.”

“You can’t be serious. All of those people — what about the fallout?”

“It seems I understand Wallace a little better know.”

Ethan glowered at him. “And what the fuck does that mean?”

Blake held Ethan’s gaze. “Sometimes when you go through the machine … your eyes are opened. You see what is, and what might be, and that alone can turn you into a different person. A singular choice — in this case not a simple one — can change history. It will be bad, but if I don’t do this, then it will be much worse.”

Blake pulled the grenade from his pocket, and propped it under his left arm. By now, he’d grown adept at removing the time travel device from his stump one-handed and easily did so now. He clamped it around the canister.

“This isn’t right! We can’t do this!” Ethan’s voice escalated in his desperation. He pushed himself upright, his legs wobbly.

“I can’t let you be responsible for this, so you can try and stop me, which I will understand,” Blake said.

Ethan bolted forward, but it was an awkward movement, and Blake sidestepped easily.

He twisted the top of the thermite magnesium grenade and clicked a prong on the watch. Then he yanked the grenade from beneath his arm and lobbed the package into the air two seconds before Ethan crashed into him.

The grenade flew high, and then — with a cracking sound and a whoosh of air — it was gone, teleported back to LOC2, the point where Blake had been in the interior reactor room. A muffled explosion came from within the nuclear power plant at almost the same instant the two men hit the dirt. The sound of explosions rippled through the building.

Ethan’s eyes flashed with anger beyond rage. “What have you done?” he screamed, hands curling into fists around Blake’s shirt.

Blake’s hand came up to wrestle with Ethan’s grip for a moment, almost like a child struggling with a stronger parent. Then he brought his knees up and thrust Ethan off with a surge of unexpected strength.

Ethan jumped to his feet and faced Blake again. His face was mottled red with fury. He looked like he wanted to kill Blake at that moment. Blake understood the feeling; he wanted to kill himself too after what he’d just done.

Rolling to his feet as well, Blake regarded Ethan with an expression that was both calm and sad. “I’ve saved the world, and I’ve saved you.”

Ethan shook his head. “What?”

Then he saw a flashing red dot in the darkness. The blinking was coming from the watch attached to his wrist. He looked at the screen. The number ‘23’ was displayed in a blue glow. Smaller numbers in the right hand corner were counting down: three … two … one.

Ethan’s eyes snapped back to Blake. “You son of a —”

The whip-strike. The rush of air. And he was gone. A small crater in the dirt was all that remained.

The weight on Blake’s shoulders crushed him as the implications of his action settled into his soul. It could not be undone now.

Dear God … have I made the right choice?

PART IV

Yesterday This Day’s Madness did prepare;

To-morrow’s Silence, Triumph, or Despair:

Drink! for you know not whence you came, nor why:

Drink! for you know not why you go, nor where.

— The Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám

67

The Gods Must Be Lazy

April 26, 2009, 12:00 PM

“— bitch!” Ethan screamed as he landed in a stumble over the uneven earth, barely managing to catch his balance before slipping to the dirt. His eyes burned from the sudden difference in lighting. It had been nearly pitch black when he’d been with Blake just a second ago and now the sun was piercing through white clouds, stinging his pupils.

After his eyes adjusted, he was able to see a wide open expanse around him. Where and when am I? An eerie thought emerged. Am I now the Omega man? The last person on Earth?

There wasn’t a soul to be seen. The structure he’d seen just moments ago looked very different now. There were buildings in the distance too, but vegetation had sprouted everywhere, angry looking, and reclaiming the land that was theirs.

He squinted, straining for a better look at the edifices. Windows missing in nearly every frame, gaping holes where doors should have been. And in the middle of it all a Ferris wheel stood, unmoving. The sight chilled him.

The wind blew in a sudden gust, cold and biting. Ethan had never felt so alone in his life, standing in this wasteland.

A throbbing in his arm distracted him. He looked down, saw the contraption still anchored to his flesh. Fury erupted in him again and he fumbled with the timepiece, trying to pry it loose.

“Come on, dammit!” he spat out after working unsuccessfully to rid himself of the device.

He forced himself to stop, to collect his emotions when he felt them swirling out of control. Mauling himself in the process wouldn’t help his situation. After a moment, his head had cleared enough to figure out how to trigger the release, and when the watch’s barbs finally slid out of his skin, he threw it to the ground.

Ethan glared down at the piece, his mind replaying what had just occurred.

Blake.

He couldn’t fully identify the next feeling that surged through him when he thought about his twin. But one thing did become clear to him then. Destroy it.

Ethan was about to stomp on the timepiece when a voice spoke out, strangely loud in the silence.

“That wouldn’t be wise.”

The sound of the words was so abrupt, it startled Ethan and he spun around. A man was approaching him, the collar of his coat turned up to fight the frigid air.

Ethan was cold, but he no longer cared. He wasn’t alone. Thank God! “Who are you?”