Chapter 35
Before the rest reached the bottom of the stairs, Sydney had made a decision. She ran back into her room and used her considerable skills in quick clothes changes to get dressed in under 30 seconds, then ran down the stairs and burst into the garage, where Tatiana and Irina were throwing their bags in the trunk. "Wait, if there's danger, shouldn't I come too?"
"You're not in danger, just the non-law abiding members of the family," Irina said. "But I suppose it couldn't hurt."
"Other than making the floor a bit cramped," Tatiana said with a wry grin.
"If my old bones can handle it, I'm sure you can manage," said Irina. With that, she got into the back seat and neatly folded herself up on the floor; Tatiana followed suit on the other side.
With Sydney in the passenger seat, Jack backed out of the garage and the driveway. "So what's the big deal with suddenly having to leave?"
"What are these dreams that you two were talking about?" Sydney added.
"Prophetic dreams," Tatiana said, and Sydney caught herself just before giving them away to the tail by turning to look back. "Ever since I was little, I've had dreams that come true. Usually I have them at least twice before they happen, though; this is the only time I can remember that I've only had a dream once before it came true."
"It did happen twice," Irina said. "I had one dream, you had the other."
"Okay, that's just weird," said Sydney. "So what, you two are psychic now?"
"Well, if that's what you want to call it, I suppose we've always been psychic," said Irina. "The problem is, I have no control over it."
"Me either," chimed in Tatiana. "But the dreams have saved my life more than once."
"Mine, too," Irina said.
"So why don't I have these dreams?" Sydney asked.
Irina took a deep breath. "I think you tell the future in a different way, as does your father. And I believe Sloane can predict future events to some extent as well."
"Wait. I've never seen the future," Jack said.
"I don't believe it's conscious on your part, Jack," Irina responded. "I think you sometimes just know what's coming, a few minutes or a few hours ahead. I can't tell you how many times during our marriage you'd start toward the phone just before it rang, and you didn't know you were doing it. And it explains the 'luck' you're known for in the CIA. Sydney, I think that's what you've got, too."
Sydney thought for a moment and remembered numerous instances when something had happened that should have surprised her but somehow hadn't—anticipating her opponent's next move in a fight with frightening accuracy, or looking at her phone and waiting for it to ring. She had never thought anything of it—it had just been normal—but now that she thought about it she realized how strange it was. "But what makes you think Sloane can do it, too?"
"The Rambaldi manuscript," Irina said. "The four of us and Sloane aren't the only descendents of Rambaldi. I have two full sisters and cousins on both sides; your father has two siblings...I think we're the ones among Rambaldi's descendents who inherited his ability to foretell the future. My father had dreams just like mine. And I told you before that my sister Tatiana predicted that I would have two children; her ability to know what was going to happen was actually rather frightening in the last months before she died."
"I've lost the tail; you two can get up now," Jack said, and Irina and Tatiana immediately unfolded themselves to sit on the seat. "You really believe that these dreams you have are about the future?"
"I've seen my dreams come true far too many times to doubt it, Jack," Irina said.
"But aren't you supposed to not be able to change the future once you've seen it?" Sydney asked, remembering the Greek myths she'd read that included prophecies.
"What my father taught me was that the future one sees can be changed, but only by proceeding very carefully. For example...Jack, you remember that horrible cross-country drive when we moved here from Virginia, don't you?"
"How could I forget?" Jack said with a frown. Forty hours of driving over four days with a cranky two-year-old, in the middle of August...it hadn't exactly been a pleasant experience.
"Remember getting stuck in traffic for two hours near Oklahoma City after that truck overturned?"
"I'd rather not." The car hadn't been air conditioned, which was the norm in 1977, and so they'd sat for two hours, barely moving in 100 degree heat with Sydney screaming her head off for most of it, getting dirty looks from the other cars.
"Hey, I've never heard about this trip," Sydney said.
"For a reason. It was awful," Irina said. "Anyway, I'd had a dream about that truck overturning several times before we left. And in the dream, we were part of the accident."
"No wonder you were so cranky," Jack said. "But why didn't you just convince me to take another route?"
"Because the dream didn't tell me what highway we were on," said Irina. "That's the thing. If I'd told you to take another route without knowing where the accident would be, for all I know I could have put us right in its path. I couldn't do anything until after the sequence of events in the dream started."
"At the rest stop," Jack said, understanding. They'd been about to leave a rest stop about half an hour before the accident when Irina had spilled the contents of her purse all over the pavement; it had taken ten minutes to clean it up.
Irina nodded. "The dream started with me putting Sydney in her car seat and then getting in the car, so I knew that the way to avoid the accident was to do something to delay us after she was buckled in."
"And to think I was annoyed with you for months about you spilling your purse," Jack said with a hint of a grin. "I never said anything, of course—but I figured if you hadn't done that we would have been in front of the accident."
"Oh, I knew exactly what you were thinking," said Irina. "I'd already had years of practice at that point staying quiet about those things."
There was quiet for a moment, and then Jack frowned. "Irina...the hand dream...you don't think..."
"I believe it's going to happen one day, Jack," Irina said softly. "And there's nothing I can do to stop it."
Before the rest reached the bottom of the stairs, Sydney had made a decision. She ran back into her room and used her considerable skills in quick clothes changes to get dressed in under 30 seconds, then ran down the stairs and burst into the garage, where Tatiana and Irina were throwing their bags in the trunk. "Wait, if there's danger, shouldn't I come too?"
"You're not in danger, just the non-law abiding members of the family," Irina said. "But I suppose it couldn't hurt."
"Other than making the floor a bit cramped," Tatiana said with a wry grin.
"If my old bones can handle it, I'm sure you can manage," said Irina. With that, she got into the back seat and neatly folded herself up on the floor; Tatiana followed suit on the other side.
With Sydney in the passenger seat, Jack backed out of the garage and the driveway. "So what's the big deal with suddenly having to leave?"
"What are these dreams that you two were talking about?" Sydney added.
"Prophetic dreams," Tatiana said, and Sydney caught herself just before giving them away to the tail by turning to look back. "Ever since I was little, I've had dreams that come true. Usually I have them at least twice before they happen, though; this is the only time I can remember that I've only had a dream once before it came true."
"It did happen twice," Irina said. "I had one dream, you had the other."
"Okay, that's just weird," said Sydney. "So what, you two are psychic now?"
"Well, if that's what you want to call it, I suppose we've always been psychic," said Irina. "The problem is, I have no control over it."
"Me either," chimed in Tatiana. "But the dreams have saved my life more than once."
"Mine, too," Irina said.
"So why don't I have these dreams?" Sydney asked.
Irina took a deep breath. "I think you tell the future in a different way, as does your father. And I believe Sloane can predict future events to some extent as well."
"Wait. I've never seen the future," Jack said.
"I don't believe it's conscious on your part, Jack," Irina responded. "I think you sometimes just know what's coming, a few minutes or a few hours ahead. I can't tell you how many times during our marriage you'd start toward the phone just before it rang, and you didn't know you were doing it. And it explains the 'luck' you're known for in the CIA. Sydney, I think that's what you've got, too."
Sydney thought for a moment and remembered numerous instances when something had happened that should have surprised her but somehow hadn't—anticipating her opponent's next move in a fight with frightening accuracy, or looking at her phone and waiting for it to ring. She had never thought anything of it—it had just been normal—but now that she thought about it she realized how strange it was. "But what makes you think Sloane can do it, too?"
"The Rambaldi manuscript," Irina said. "The four of us and Sloane aren't the only descendents of Rambaldi. I have two full sisters and cousins on both sides; your father has two siblings...I think we're the ones among Rambaldi's descendents who inherited his ability to foretell the future. My father had dreams just like mine. And I told you before that my sister Tatiana predicted that I would have two children; her ability to know what was going to happen was actually rather frightening in the last months before she died."
"I've lost the tail; you two can get up now," Jack said, and Irina and Tatiana immediately unfolded themselves to sit on the seat. "You really believe that these dreams you have are about the future?"
"I've seen my dreams come true far too many times to doubt it, Jack," Irina said.
"But aren't you supposed to not be able to change the future once you've seen it?" Sydney asked, remembering the Greek myths she'd read that included prophecies.
"What my father taught me was that the future one sees can be changed, but only by proceeding very carefully. For example...Jack, you remember that horrible cross-country drive when we moved here from Virginia, don't you?"
"How could I forget?" Jack said with a frown. Forty hours of driving over four days with a cranky two-year-old, in the middle of August...it hadn't exactly been a pleasant experience.
"Remember getting stuck in traffic for two hours near Oklahoma City after that truck overturned?"
"I'd rather not." The car hadn't been air conditioned, which was the norm in 1977, and so they'd sat for two hours, barely moving in 100 degree heat with Sydney screaming her head off for most of it, getting dirty looks from the other cars.
"Hey, I've never heard about this trip," Sydney said.
"For a reason. It was awful," Irina said. "Anyway, I'd had a dream about that truck overturning several times before we left. And in the dream, we were part of the accident."
"No wonder you were so cranky," Jack said. "But why didn't you just convince me to take another route?"
"Because the dream didn't tell me what highway we were on," said Irina. "That's the thing. If I'd told you to take another route without knowing where the accident would be, for all I know I could have put us right in its path. I couldn't do anything until after the sequence of events in the dream started."
"At the rest stop," Jack said, understanding. They'd been about to leave a rest stop about half an hour before the accident when Irina had spilled the contents of her purse all over the pavement; it had taken ten minutes to clean it up.
Irina nodded. "The dream started with me putting Sydney in her car seat and then getting in the car, so I knew that the way to avoid the accident was to do something to delay us after she was buckled in."
"And to think I was annoyed with you for months about you spilling your purse," Jack said with a hint of a grin. "I never said anything, of course—but I figured if you hadn't done that we would have been in front of the accident."
"Oh, I knew exactly what you were thinking," said Irina. "I'd already had years of practice at that point staying quiet about those things."
There was quiet for a moment, and then Jack frowned. "Irina...the hand dream...you don't think..."
"I believe it's going to happen one day, Jack," Irina said softly. "And there's nothing I can do to stop it."