Alan woke up refreshed on the morning of the day that Francine would die. He punched the button to turn off the alarm clock, opened his eyes...

...and saw himself sitting on a tricycle in front of the bed.

"Wh-wh-what's going on?" he stammered.

"Go back to sleep, Alan," said his duplicate. "I'll handle things from here."

Alan rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn't seeing double.

"You've come back in time," he said anxiously. "Why?"

The second Alan pushed on the tricycle's handlebars and rose to his feet. "I've got a suspicion that my son has been very, very bad," he replied.

----

The kids at Lakewood Elementary were lined up in the cafeteria, each in turn choosing between the two lunch entrees of the day--beef stroganoff and what passed for jambalaya. Francine and Alan stood in line together; when they reached Mrs. McGrady's position, Francine requested the stroganoff, while Alan asked for the jambalaya.

"Now remember, Francine," said Alan quietly, "don't take a bite of anything until I tell you to."

Francine's tone of voice was suspicious. "Hold on, Alan. Are you sure this prank isn't on me instead of Jason?"

"Trust me," Alan responded.

As the two made their way toward a table, Jason came up to them, clutching a textbook. "Hey, Alan," he asked, sounding a little nervous for no apparent reason, "what did you get for question 2 on the history test?"

"The Monroe Doctrine," Alan replied.

Jason was holding his hands above Francine's lunch tray, and Alan watched them closely. For a moment he thought he saw a slight spray of droplets from Jason's right hand onto Francine's plate. "Bingo!" said Alan silently.

"Come sit with us," Alan offered, and Jason followed the two. They sat together at a table, with Jason on Alan's left hand and Francine on his right. Jason set down his book, which had the words AMERICAN HISTORY engraved on the cover.

Francine started to fiddle idly with her silverware. "Hey, Francine," Alan said to her, "that stroganoff looks really good. I'll give you some of my jambalaya if you share it with me."

"Sure," said Francine with a knowing grin.

Jason's mouth suddenly fell open. He watched fearfully as Alan used his fork to load some of his jambalaya onto Francine's plate, while Francine pushed some stroganoff onto Alan's.

Then Alan scooped up a forkload of stroganoff and lifted it to his mouth.

Now aghast with horror, Jason grabbed the fork from Alan's hand and threw it onto the floor, scattering scraps of stroganoff for several feet.

Alan stared at him with mock surprise. "What did you do that for?"

Francine handed her fork to Alan. "Here, I haven't used this yet. I'll go get another fork."

Before Francine could stand, Jason leaped to his feet, grabbed both Alan's and Francine's lunch plates, and hurled them against the wall, smashing them to pieces.

"What...what..." Francine stammered in anger. "My lunch!" She and Alan rose from the table and glared at the terrified boy.

Jason slowly and nervously backed away from them...only to be stopped in his path by the indignant Principal Haney.

"I will not tolerate food fights in this school," the principal said to him. "Come to my office...now."

"Uh, Mr. Haney, sir," said Alan, "if it's all the same to you, I'd like to have a word with him first."

Mr. Haney looked at Alan curiously. "All right, but send him my way when you're done with him."

As the principal walked away, Jason started to whimper as if he expected Alan and Francine to commence pulverizing him at any moment.

"Outside," said Alan, motioning with his thumb toward the school exit.

As the confused and hungry Francine watched, Jason reluctantly followed Alan through the door and out of the building.

Alan glanced around to make sure nobody could hear their conversation. Then he looked at Jason accusingly. "Why did you do that? What's wrong with you?"

Jason swallowed. His face turned a whiter shade of pale.

"Why didn't you want us to eat?" Alan asked him. "Did you think it was poisoned or something?"

Jason still didn't answer.

"Wait...a...minute." Alan pointed a finger directly at Jason's pallid face. "That vial of fluid you carry around with you. It's not medicine, is it? It's some kind of poison. You were trying to poison someone, weren't you? And you wouldn't poison your own father, so it must have been Francine."

Jason covered his face with his hands and burst into tears. "Yes!" he confessed.

"WHY?" Alan roared.

The boy from the future sobbed and stammered. "I...I know it's...wrong to kill...but I have to..."

Alan folded his arms impatiently.

Jason wiped his eyes and struggled to compose himself. "You're right, Alan," he said with sudden firmness. "The whole reason I came back in time was to keep you from saving Francine. But you went ahead and changed the past despite my warnings, so now I have to eliminate The Wraith another way."

"The who?" asked Alan curiously.

"Let me explain," Jason continued. "In the future, you will become a great weapons scientist. You'll invent the most powerful and deadly weapon in the history of the world...the Gigadeath Bomb."

"I don't believe you," said Alan, folding his arms. "I would never invent anything like that. Besides, when I went into the future, I found out that I'll study art history at Stanford."

"That's just a cover," Jason explained. "You'll come up with the idea for the bomb at the age of sixteen."

"Just how powerful is this bomb?" Alan inquired.

"The bomb kills by irradiating the atmosphere and making it toxic," Jason answered. "The effect can spread for hundreds, maybe thousands of miles. A single bomb could kill everybody in the United States."

"Supposing all this is true," said Alan, "what does it have to do with Francine?"

"I was getting to that. Francine will become a master spy called The Wraith, because she can get into or out of anywhere. The government will send her on a mission to infiltrate a terrorist group, but she'll betray her country and deliver the Gigadeath technology to the terrorists."

"No!" cried Alan, outraged. "Francine would never do that!"

"But she will," Jason insisted. "That's why I have to dispose of her. If she lives, millions, maybe billions of people will die."

"I don't believe it!" Alan shouted. "You're lying! I won't let you kill Francine!"

"There's no other way," said Jason sadly, looking at his feet.

As Alan gazed at the dejected boy, his mind went into overdrive. What if he's telling the truth? he thought. But still, Francine shouldn't die for something she hasn't done yet. There must be another way.

And then he thought of one.

"Take me instead," he suggested.

"What?" Jason raised his head. The light returned to his eyes.

"Take me instead of Francine. With me out of the picture, the bomb won't be invented."

"But you're my father," said Jason. "Without you, I won't have a family."

"Without Francine, I won't have a friend," Alan replied. "It's your choice, Jason. Either take me with you to the future, or go home empty-handed. Because if you want to kill Francine, then you'll have to kill me, too."

Jason pondered for a few seconds. "Would you do that?" he asked unbelievingly. "Would you go to the future with me and never return?"

"If it means saving billions of lives, yes."

Jason's face fell. He appeared as if he was watching everyone he loved vanish into thin air.

"Okay," he finally said.

(Next: The final chapter!)