Sunday, April 16th, Early Morning

“Guten Morgen!”

Sirius. It was Sirius. Unmistakeable. That face, that voice. Guten Morgen. It was Sirius!

“You… okay?” His hand lingered on the doorknob. His brow, furrowed. Slowly, he shut the door behind him.

He was getting closer to me. So was the door. No- he wasn’t moving, I was. I had gotten to my feet, lumbering slowly towards him.

“You’re starting to scare me, Lyra-- whoa!”

One of my knees buckled. He reached out and caught me. I grabbed at his arms, his shirt, his chest. His heart was beating. Once, twice, three times.

“Sirius… Sirius, S-Sirius…” It was getting hard to breathe. My whole body was shaking. I couldn’t control it. All I could do was bury my face deeper into his chest.

Slowly, he put his arm around me. It didn’t mean anything, but it felt good.

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed before I let my hands fall to my sides, and stand on my own feet.

“Are you okay?” Sirius asked.

“No.”

He motioned me to sit down on the couch. When I didn’t move, he leaned against the door and tilted his head.

The club room, illuminated faintly in a yellow-tinted light, was quiet. The edges of the instruments, of the couch, of the equipment… all of it seemed to glow, a faint orange. My breathing was harsh.

Sirius had grabbed one of the folding chairs in the side closet and propped it up beside me.

“At least sit down,” he said.

I watched the clock hand tick once. “Okay.”

Sirius took his guitar, a seat on the couch, and began strumming chords quietly. Humming. I recognized that melody. It’s the opening bars of Lightspeed Blue. As his fingers danced around the strings, he kept looking up at me.

“I-”

He stopped.

“I-I had a bad dream,” I said. That must’ve been it. Just a bad dream.

The air in the clubroom was very still. He blinked. “I… see.”

I stood. “I-I’m going to wash my face.”

“Take it easy,” he said. He set his guitar down and made his way to the counter. I noticed him take two cups from the cabinet.

“I know.” With my hand hovering over the handle, I froze. “H-hey, Sirius?”

“Yeah?”

“Y-You…”

“Breathe,” he said. “It’s going to be okay.”

I did. “Are you going to tell Anna that you like her?”

Slowly, my head turned. He was in the middle of brewing coffee. “How did you know?”

My heart was racing. I could feel it thrashing against my ribcage, as my chest rose and fell. “Just my intuition,” I said.

“Is… Is this what it’s about?”

“N-No.”

“Alright.” He set his cup down. His eyes seemed to peer into my soul. “I trust you, Lyra.”

“I know. This really isn’t it,” I said. “L-look. I’m going to go wash my face. Can we talk more about this later?”

Sirius nodded. I shut the door behind me and checked my phone. Sunday, April 16th. The last day of Galileo Fest.

In the restroom, I brushed back my hair and stared at my reflection. I looked awful. I didn’t wear have very much makeup on my face, but what I did was all over the place. My eyes were red and puffy from crying into Sirius’s chest, too.

Oh, shoot. I must’ve passed out without taking off my makeup. I guess that means I did the same last time, too.

Last time.

Was that a dream? A premonition? No… I’d woken up from a dream, ‘last time.’ I couldn’t remember it clearly, but I was sure I had been dreaming something. A dream within a dream? I doubt it.

As I rinsed off my face, I pulled out my phone. Before I woke it up from sleep mode, though, I thought to myself. I’m going to have two texts from Anna. One about how she got my text, and another for when she had food.

I keyed in my passcode.

[Anna] k

(Sent 10:58 PM)

[Anna] had food

(Sent 2:02 AM)

Last active 5 hours ago

I swallowed. So it’s real. I’ve gone back to the start of Sunday. And at the end of Sunday…

My side tingled, a bit. I pulled up my shirt and inspected my hip in the mirror. Not a scratch. But I’d definitely been stabbed. My breathing was unsteady. And, Anna had been stabbed. And Sirius had been stabbed.

I swallowed. Calm down, Lyra.

If I recall correctly, I’d played games with Rigel until sundown. And shortly after that… I ran up to the Astronomy Building. And then, we all died.

I can save myself. That’s the easy part. Just don’t go. But I can’t let them die.

I have to do this.

I closed the messaging app and pulled up the weather. Sunset today: 7:46 PM. Well, the sky was already mostly dark by the time I’d made it there. And it was mostly set by the time Rigel confessed to me--

A pang of guilt ran through me. Rigel. God, what a cowardly, horrible way to let him down.

I’m the worst.

Deep breath, Lyra. I don’t know why I’m back here, but this is redemption. Think. Sometime after 8 PM, Sirius and Anna will die. It’s almost half-past 8. In less than 12 hours… Sirius and Anna will die.

As I closed the weather app, I noticed another icon below it. It definitely hadn’t been there before, only labeled ‘Redshift.’

I opened it.

The screen was covered in red, under white text. ‘10 Remaining,’ it read. Right below it, a button. ‘Reset.’ Ten remaining… what? Units, people.

My finger hovered over the ‘reset’ key. Again, reset what?

I tapped it. My vision turned blurry. In an instant, it was like the floor had given way below me.

 I sat up. The clubroom, again. I palmed my phone. Just before 8 AM. Sunday, April 16th. My head turned, slowly, towards the door, as I kept one eye on my phone. In a few seconds, it’s going to open.

“Guten Morgen!” Sirius walked in.

Hold on. Let’s try this... “Sirius, what’s with Guten Morgen?” He’s going to respond by asking--

“Don’t you think it’s kind of cool?” He shut the door behind him and tossed his bag onto the couch. “You know, exciting and mysterious, and all. Like, when lyrics have words in other languages.”

I shuddered. So, it’s real. Because of this app… I’ve gone back in time. And in 12 hours…

Without answering him, I stood up and found my bag lying on the countertop. Just my music, a pair of headphones, a bluetooth device…

“Sirius, I need to ask a favor,” I said. “Did you bring your laptop?”

“Yeah, I did. Why?”

“Well, first, don’t throw your bag around like that if your laptop’s in it.”

He laughed and scratched the back of his head. “Hey--”

“I need to google something. Can I borrow it?”

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, sure. Give me a minute.” He drew it from his bag and tapped a few things on the trackpad.

“Closing the tabs you can’t show your mother?” I couldn’t help but give a wry grin.

“Ha-ha. I’m logging out of my social media.” He spared a glance at me. “So that my followers won’t think that I’ve developed an obsessive relationship with kumquat pudding.”

“Again.” I put my hand up in a pointless attempt to mask the wide, silly grin plastered across my face.

“You know, my parents wouldn’t stop sending me links to addiction counselors for about a month after that.”

I giggled. “I know.”

“Here you go. And you’re googling incognito, got it?”

Wouldn’t have done it any other way. “Thanks.”

First search. ‘Redshift.’ Three results on Amazon Redshift… the Doppler effect… Okay, fine. ‘Redshift+app’. Astronomy on the app store, astronomy for iOS… Hm… ‘Redshift+time+travel’. People also ask, google said, ‘How does redshift prove the universe is expanding?’ Something something, cosmic redshift. ‘Redshift+time+travel+app’. Now, google was just confused.

Nothing. I closed the window and handed the computer back to Sirius.

“Find what you’re looking for?”

“Information on an app that sends you back in time? Nope.”

Sirius looked at me like I’d sprouted a third eye. “Want me to put some coffee on for you?”

“Yes, please.”

While his back was turned, I opened the Redshift again. 9 remaining. There was a little circle with an exclamation mark in it. I tapped it.

‘At 0 credits remaining, you may contact system admin.’ I wasn’t sure what it meant, but I didn’t like the sound of it. There’s never such thing as a free lunch. I closed the app and pocketed my phone.

“Hey, Sirius.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you have any enemies?”

He stopped pouring. “Where’s that coming from?”

“It’s… it’s for a book I’m working on. I need ideas. Just, anyone who really doesn’t like you? A nemesis?”

Sirius set the coffee pot down. “Well, if you phrase it that way, I suppose you could count Rigel.”

“Rigel…” I had considered him. But I just couldn’t imagine him being a killer.

“I’m not naive,” he said. A pause. “Okay, I am pretty naive, sometimes. But I get that he resents me.”

That much, I could tell from the last loop. “But…”

“Can I ask what this is for?” he asked. He slid a cup in front of me and began pouring a second one.

“Hey. I thought vocalists weren’t supposed to have coffee before a performance.”

He stopped and slid it across the counter. “Yes, Mother.”

“Good boy.” I ruffled his hair.

As he returned to the couch and started strumming at his guitar, my thoughts turned to Rigel. I thought back to what he said, too. I didn’t think much of it back then, since he’s always raising his voice around Sirius and Antares, but I don’t think Rigel’s ever shouted at me. Well, I guess, from where I was standing right now, ‘it didn’t happen.’ Not yet, anyways.

It would make sense for Rigel to be the killer. If he had been following me after I ran of… he would’ve ended up on the roof of the Astronomy Building, too.

But Rigel wouldn’t commit murder. I know him better than that.

Would he?