68. October 19, 2202 Boston, Massachusetts
A nurse tells Oliver to roll up his shirtsleeve.
He does, or, at least, he must have. The next thing he knows, the spot where his recall chip was implanted is covered by a bandage. She tells him to have a nice day.
He didn’t feel a thing. Maybe because he’s in a daze from being in the lab, trying to keep his thoughts in the present when all he wants is the past. Maybe because everything hurts, or maybe because he is still numb. It’s hard to tell.
“There’s one more thing to take care of before you go, Mr. Rhodes,” Lucy says.
He follows her between the travel stations, some of them humming with energy, others dormant. A chamber rotates open as he passes, and he braces himself for the cloud of fake cinnamon and powdery perfume.
The scent is light, fresh, and delicate. Violets, maybe. He never did find out.
Oliver hasn’t been in Lucy’s office since the day he first came to Aevum, almost five months ago. His gaze snags on the acrylic display of brochures behind her and the bold words that mocked him that day: Need more time?
He sinks into the same armchair he sat in last time.
Lucy sits behind her desk. She folds her hands together on the polished surface and looks him in the eye. “On behalf of Aevum, I’d like to offer you our sincerest apologies.”
Oliver frowns. “For what?”
“You were right,” she says. “There was a mistake in your brother’s report.”
“But you said Aevum checked it again,” Oliver says. “So did Theo.”
“Upon further investigation, Aevum has concluded your brother’s report was falsified,” Lucy replies.
“Falsified?” Oliver asks. “Why? That makes no sense.”
“It’s the only thing that makes sense, Mr. Rhodes,” she says sharply. “You can’t change the future.”
“But I was sick,” Oliver says. “You saw me after Apollo 11. My chip—Aevum’s chip—recalled me.”
Lucy shrugs. “It must have been faulty.”
Oliver slumps back into his chair. “That’s a hell of a coincidence.”
“Aevum officially takes full responsibility for the false report and the faulty chip.” She says it like she’s reading off a script. “Your brother will be reimbursed. Any further compensation for distress or damages must be addressed with our legal department.”
Oliver leans in close, drops his voice. “And unofficially?”
Lucy’s eyes meet his. “There are some things rules don’t apply to, Mr. Rhodes. Maybe there are some people like that, too.”