The Candidate

  Guardian of the Present: Book 3

  THE CANDIDATE

  By Melissa Faye

  © 2018 Melissa Faye

  All rights reserved. No parts of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Thank you for reading!

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  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  Harrison was getting better at using the time traveler fighting tools I had been inventing and adapting for nine years...but I still wouldn’t let him near the Some Gun.

  “June. It’s an elderly man. He’s been buying up New York City real estate for a few years and making some money on the stock markets.” Harrison rolled his eyes; after only a month, he understood why most of the travelers came. “I can zap him back to his Present, no problem.”

  We were stopped at an intersection while riding our bikes towards Midtown. The light turned green and I took off without an answer for Harrison. It was midday, and traffic wasn’t as bad as usual. I could fly quickly down the streets with only a halfhearted fear for car doors swinging out ahead of me. Plus, mid-October in the city meant cooler weather. I was already reveling in the chilly breezes that met me outside the dorm every morning.

  Harrison pumped his legs to keep up. He may have been a foot taller than me, but I was faster rider than people expected.

  “What if you give me a chance this one time, and then you can see if you ever want to trust me again?” Harrison called to me at the next light. “A test. Like the test you have tomorrow in Professor Garvey’s class.”

  We made it one more block before another red stopped us.

  “You know, the class you have with Lacey? Where she’s waiting in the dorm to study with you?” Harrison leaned forward to try to catch my eye. “If you let me use the Some Gun, I could take care of these tiny cases and free you up for other responsibilities.”

  Harrison was a proficient sidekick. He was eager to join me at any time of day. He was fast on his bike, and rarely doubted my physical capabilities anymore. I’d been studying martial arts and working out for years, and I could fight. He got out of my way when I needed him to.

  But he wasn’t ready for the Some Gun. Something told me he’d be a little too trigger-happy.

  I swung around a corner, admiring a row of ocher and deep red trees. We were at that sweet spot where the weather was perfect, the leaves were beautiful, and everything smelled like autumn. Who knew how long it would be before the leaves fell off the trees and rainfall turned to sleet and snow? I would need new tires on my bike to avoid skidding.

  I checked the Face Finder. We had a picture of Mr. Benjamin Rollins, age 83, from his latest HOA meeting at one of his many penthouse apartments around the city. Somehow, he was president of three of his HOAs. The Face Finder traced camera feeds from around the city so we could see which condo he was in right now. It was a beautiful high rise with an old fashioned edifice, a revolving door, and a doorman. Harrison and I locked up the bikes.

  “I’m just saying,” Harrison whispered. “It’s one old man. It’s one button. Back-U-Go, right?”

  “And if you accidently flick that button to Stun? Or if we find out Mr. Rollins is not as old as he looks in the pictures?”

  I suspected Mr. Rollins was a traveler after our favorite and only informant, Leslie Leslie, let me know he’d been coming into her pawn store looking for technology that didn’t yet exist. Travelers had a way of seeking out Leslie Leslie, and she immediately let me know. It was too risky letting travelers hang around for too long. At one point or another, they would take advantage of knowing everything that was going to happen. Or they’d mess up the timeline. Or they’d try to take over the world.

  That last one rarely happened.

  According to a little light hacking, I learned the Mr. Rollins lived on the 23rd floor of this building. I took out the J-DAR and handed it to Harrison delicately. It could be hard trusting anyone else with my gadgets. They were well beyond the scope of our present day technology, and I didn’t want them getting in the wrong hands. Only my mentor and friend, Ridge, used the J-DAR. And that was only because I’d known him for so many years.

  “Point it up to the 23rd floor,” I whispered. Harrison squinted one eye shut as he looked through the J-DAR, which was shaped like an oversized magnifying glass. It was a sight to behold: Harrison, all 6’3” of him, standing in an upscale, older neighborhood holding the J-DAR up to the sky like a jeweler inspecting a diamond. Only instead of a diamond, it was a building.

  “How do you know which one is 23?”

  “You’ll know.”

  Harrison moved the J-DAR around too fast, so I grabbed his arm to slow him down. He started at the bottom again, and his lips moved as he counted the windows up to the 23rd floor. Then he slowly traced a path with his eyes back and forth across the building.

  “I got him!”

  He handed over the J-DAR and pointed.

  “He’s towards the north side of the building. He can probably see Central Park from here.”

  I followed Harrison’s finger and found Mr. Rollins. The J-DAR couldn’t pick out people or objects. Instead, it shows the chronogram trail that all travelers carry with them when they traveled through time. The trails were kind of pretty. Mr. Rollins trail was a blend of reds and oranges that reminded me of the trees lining the streets.

  I returned the J-DAR to my messenger bag and with a nod, I led Harrison towards the building. The doorman greeted us and pointed us towards the revolving door. Inside, everything was sparkling clean. The place smelled like bleach. I imagined if I were wearing socks, I could slide from one end to the other on the flat, decorative tiled floors.

  I led us towards the front desk. The attendant was a middle-aged woman wearing a navy uniform and a nametag that said Joan.

  “Hi Joan!” I said pleasantly. “I’m Rebecca and this is Frank. We’re here to see our grandfather. Benjamin Rollins. He’s on the 23rd floor?”

  Joan pursed her lips. “Does Mr. Rollins know you’re coming?”

  I laughed amiably. “No, it’s a surprise! He’ll be so happy to see us.”

  Joan eyed me suspiciously as she flipped through the resident directory.

  “Oh, could you tell him we’re Rebecca and Frank from the future? It’s an inside joke.”

  Joan nodded and placed a call to Mr. Rollins apartment.

  “Mr. Rollins, I have two young guests for you. Your grandchildren, Rebecca and Frank from the future.” She paused and held up one finger to us as if we were about to run to the elevators. “Mhmm. From the future. Rebecca and Frank. That’s right...Alright, thank you Mr. Rollins.”

  Joan showed us the elevator and we went up to the 23rd floor. Harrison navigated with the J-DAR. I took out the Some Gun and held it with two hands pointed to the ground. I never could tell when a seemingly easy job would become dangerous.

  Harrison found the door, and before he knocked, I flicked the Some Gun to Stun.

  “Really, Wires?” Harrison said with a smirk. “You’re gonna Stun an old man? Your grandfather?”

  “No, not if I can help it.” I put
a hand on my hip. “Better safe, right? Who knows when Mr. Rollins is from. I have to be prepared!”

  I knocked on the door.

  “Mr. Rollins? It’s Rebecca and Frank from the future!”

  I pulled Harrison out of the way of the peephole. Sometimes when travelers saw me, they ran. I knew it probably had nothing to do with how intimidating I looked – I didn’t – and more to do with the realization that someone was coming for them. Mr. Rollins let us come up to see him, so I figured he was more curious than suspicious. But I never wanted to let my guard down.

  I heard the click of metal on wood as Mr. Rollins slid the chain ont the latch. Then he opened the door a few inches until the chain caught.

  “What do you want?” he mumbled. He did look his age.

  “Mr. Rollins, I’m here to send you home now,” I said. I held the Some Gun tightly and hoped I wouldn’t need to use us.

  Mr. Rollins peered at Harrison and myself.

  “No thank you, I’m fine where I am.”

  He tried to close the door, but I shoved my foot in his way.

  “Mr. Rollins, Rule 3-A of Time Travel states that travelers may not use their knowledge for personal gain. That means you may not come to my Present and buy up all the real estate. There are plenty of other people looking to by housing here.”

  “What are you going to do about it? Are you going to attack an old man?”

  WHAM. Mr. Rollins tried slam the door, but I was too fast. The door smashed my foot and I held my ground.

  WHAM. WHAM. I scowled through my teeth.

  “Mr. Rollins, stop that and let us in.”

  “No! You can’t come into my home! What gives you the right –“

  I flicked the Some Gun to the Cage of Light function, aimed through the opening in the door, and pulled the trigger.

  “June! What did you do?” Harrison cried. He peeked over my head into the apartment, where Mr. Rollins was frozen in place, encased in an impenetrable Cage of Light.

  I pushed Harrison out of my way so I could slip my arm inside and undo the latch.

  “You’re right, I have other things to be doing, Harrison,” I said. I pushed the door open and skirted past Mr. Rollins into the apartment. “I’m not getting into an argument with a traveler over whether or not he should be sent home.”

  “But – but – look at him!”

  Mr. Rollins wasn’t completely immobilized. Once the initial shock wore off, he edged a few inches in every direction, testing the bounds of the Cage. It was a sorry sight.

  Harrison paced in a circle around the Cage, poking at it, but he couldn’t touch Mr. Rollins from the outside. I pointed the Some Gun.

  “Are you ready to go, sir?”

  “Fine, but before that can we –“

  I pulled the trigger. The Cage of Light disappeared, leaving Mr. Rollins fumbling to regain his footing on the hardwood floors. He opened his mouth, his face scrunched up. Before he could speak, I flicked the Some Gun to the Back-U-Go function and pulled the trigger for the last time.

  Mr. Rollins gasped as his body appeared to collapse in space into a tiny dot. Then the dot disappeared. He was back in his own Present now. We were left standing alone in his condo.

  “It’s really nice.” I looked all around. “A corner unit? This must have cost a fortune.”

  Chapter 2

  I brought Lacey tacos from her favorite taco cart as an apology for my late arrival for our study session. All three of my suitemates were annoyed with me at one point or other these days. I was unreliable with my time. I started the school year with great plans for balancing school, friendships, and saving the world. It took about four days for those plans to fall apart.

  Lacey was particularly annoyed because I couldn’t stop myself from promising to help her with work for our shared Engineering class. Our teacher, Professor Garvey, was known for being tough, and our problem sets took up as much time as all my other classwork combined. A few weeks earlier, though, Professor Garvey told me she saw potential in my work. If I was going to take her up on the offer to join a higher level course with her next semester, I needed all of my work to be flawless. Now I was balancing helping Lacey with going above and beyond on my own assignments.

  Lacey’s roommate Marlene joined us in our common room and sat on a nearby couch. She was the loudest person and dresser I’d ever met. She did not hold back when I let our plans fall through. She railed me out a week earlier for missing our suite’s ongoing Wednesday lunch together. I apologized profusely. At least Marlene was forgiving. She let her temper fly, and once I showed remorse, we moved on.

  “Do you mind if I turn on the TV?” Marlene asked us. “Lee Olliver is giving a speech and I always miss them live.”

  Lee Olliver was running for mayor of New York City on the Independent ballot. He was first in the polls only a few weeks out from the election. Everyone was excited about his candidacy. Most of my friends were voting for the first time that year. After skipping a grade, I was the only seventeen year old freshman and wouldn’t be able to vote for another year.

  Marlene took our silence as a sign of approval and turned on the TV. Lee Olliver was speaking out on the pier to a crowd of his supporters. He was tall, like Harrison, with auburn hair and a perfectly tailored suit. He was supposedly 56, but looked much younger. Sometimes his campaign rallies looked more like a rock concert, given his supporters’ undying devotion.

  “Thank you so much to everyone for making it out here,” he announced to the crowd. “When I began my campaign, I hoped to present you with new, innovative solutions to the problems New Yorkers face every day. I hoped to inspire you to work within your communities to help make our city even greater than it already is. I hoped to show you how a person who cares deeply for the citizens of New York City could make positive change, reducing taxes while reducing debt. Reducing homelessness and increasing affordable housing. Increasing our commitment to finding clean energy sources without eliminating jobs.”

  The crowd cheered and waved their posters in the air.

  We listened as Olliver spoke about his platform. Most of it was familiar; he stuck to a few key points. Somehow he was straddling the line between the two sides of the aisle, and he was picking up more swing votes than anyone could have anticipated. Lacey and I joined Marlene on the couch, abandoning our work on the back table.

  I wasn’t ever interested in politics. I saved the President when I was eight, but after that, I was done with politicians. When friends or classmates tried to engage me in debate, I couldn’t help feeling like I was living a different life. I was always watching out for the travelers and what they could do to mess with the timeline or use their knowledge to their advantage, like Mr. Rollins. No politician in my Present had the tools they needed to guard our time period.

  And I couldn’t figure out what I would want politicians to do if they knew about the travelers. Send the police after them? Ask scientists to hurry up and invent time travel elimination machines? Start a useless task force?

  So I was surprised by how moved I was by Lee Olliver. I watched his campaign speeches with my dormmates. I even talked to Ridge about him once. There was something about the candidate that appealed to me. And everyone else, it seemed.

  Olliver continued talking about his plans for low-income housing that wouldn’t require raising taxes. He gestured emphatically with all the signature politician moves: the closed fist pump forward. The arm wave. The fist pound on the podium.

  “What is that?” I asked. I jumped forward, kneeling in front of the television.

  “What’s what? June, get out of the way.”

  Olliver had raised his right hand in the air to articulate his point, and I noticed a flash of white on his wrist. It can’t be, I thought.

  Travelers sometimes wore slim white bands along their wrists. They looked like the fitness trackers everyone was wearing, but were much more advanced. On a television screen, I couldn’t tell if it was from my Present or someone else’s. But
there was something about Olliver. And he was tall. And his rise to fame was out of the ordinary.

  I texted Ridge.

  Olliver – could he be a traveler?

  WHAT? Why??

  Arm band. Strange charisma. Tall.

  You’re seeing things, June.

  Of course Olliver wasn’t from the future. Sure, a traveler from the future might want to win a mayoral election for a dozen different reasons, and would probably have the knowhow to make a platform that appealed to everyone. He could pump money into his own campaign, or even into the city’s budget, to accomplish what he wanted to ensure his popularity. He could use it as a stepping stone to a higher office.

  Dammit. Now I needed to look into it.

  I pulled up Olliver’s website to see his schedule for the next few days. On Friday afternoon, two days from now, he would be hosting a Q&A session with students at a college in Queens. I put it in my calendar, and made a note to myself to invite Harrison. Then I scratched that note out. He would think I was crazy too.

  I MET UP WITH HONEY, Harrison, and Harrison’s roommate Anton the next night for dinner in the dining hall. Anton was still interested in Honey even though she had turned him down at least three times. Anton also held a strange dislike for me that I didn’t appreciate. Something about how I hurt Harrison. Harrison was over it. “It” being the time I erased his memory after he helped me fight a traveler with robotic beetles, then tried to keep him from helping me when a traveler put my future at stake. Nothing big.

  Back in August, I found out that my parents weren’t dead like we all thought. They were kidnapped by a man named Jasper and trapped in the future. My dad left me a note, telling me to keep my identity a secret. Besides perfecting an app for my technology that would hopefully prevent travelers from stealing information from me, I hadn’t addressed the issue yet. But tonight I was going to.

  “If you were a superhero, what would your costume be?” I asked thoughtfully, avoiding Anton’s sneer.