Chapter One

An Eventful Thanksgiving

 Indiantown, Florida
November 2030

The aroma of roasting turkey and sage drifted through the rooms of the sprawling Florida estate of Indiantown, but the six children gathered on the back patio remained unmoved by the promise of the anticipated Thanksgiving dinner. 

November in Florida meant a peculiar mix of holiday family traditions and persistent summer heat—a combination that left the cousins restless, sweating in their good clothes, and desperately seeking distraction as the adults busied themselves in the kitchen or with the talk of all things adult.

“If I hear dinner will be ready in an hour, one more time, I might actually die,” Calista declared, dramatically throwing herself onto a wicker chaise lounge, clutching her new iPhone to check for text messages.

At seventeen, she considered herself well beyond the age of childish diversions, yet here she was, trapped in the limbo of a holiday afternoon with nothing to do.

Bianca, also seventeen but with the practiced patience of an older sister, glanced up from her own phone where she'd been tracking the celestial calendar for the evening's stargazing. “It's only twelve-thirty, Cali” she said. “Maybe we could—”

“No more board games,” Daniel interrupted, “If I have to beat you all in another round of Monopoly, I'll throw myself into the pool.”

Seven-year-old Adrian bobbed his head in eager agreement, mimicking his brother's posture and even the way he spun the tennis ball between his fingers when he caught it.

“Yeah, no more Mon-pop-oly,” he echoed, mangling the pronunciation in a way that would have been endearing if it hadn't been the third time he'd done so that morning, irritating his older brother Daniel.

From his seat at the patio table, fifteen-year-old Andre looked up from his notebook, where he'd been calculating something with intense focus.

The cousins had grown inseparable during family gatherings. “The probability of rain today is less than ten percent,” he offered, his fingers twitching as if seeking a screen to swipe. “We could explore the property. I noticed some interesting structures on the satellite view.”

Julian, the quietest of his three siblings, Adrian, Daniel, and Bianca, peered through the glass doors toward the kitchen. “Mom said to stay close to the house,” he reminded them, ever the rule-follower.

Calista sat up suddenly, her eyes bright with inspiration. “That abandoned place next door has a barn. I saw it when we drove up. Bet it's full of cool old junk.”

Bianca frowned. “That's trespassing, Cali.”

“It's not trespassing if no one lives there,” Daniel countered with the convenient logic of someone looking for trouble. He bounced the ball once more, then caught it with a decisive snap. “I'm with Cali.”

“Me too! Me too!” Adrian exclaimed, now bouncing on his toes just as the tennis ball had done.

Andre closed his notebook with methodical precision. “Actually, the property line isn't clearly marked. There's a statistical ambiguity about where grandpa and grandma's land ends. We could reasonably claim to be exploring the boundaries.”

Julian cautiously said, “I don't know...”

“Come on,” Calista urged, already heading toward the side gate. “They won't even notice we're gone. We'll be back before that pop-up thing goes off on the turkey.”

Bianca hesitated, torn between responsibility and boredom. She glanced at her younger brothers, then at Andre, whose analytical expression suggested he was already mapping their route.

With a sigh that contained equal parts resignation and anticipation, she pocketed her phone. “Fine, but we stay together. And Adrian holds someone's hand the whole time.”

“Not it!” Daniel called, darting ahead.

They slipped through the side gate and climbed the redwood-stained fence that separated their grandparents' manicured lawn from the overgrown neighboring property.

The abandoned house stood like a faded postcard of Florida past—a single-story ranch with peeling pastel paint and hurricane shutters hanging askew. Behind it loomed a weathered barn, its off-white paint bleached to the color of stained laundry by decades of merciless sun.

“That doesn't look stable,” Bianca murmured as they approached the barn, her arm protectively around Adrian's shoulders.

“The main structural supports appear intact,” Andre observed, his eyes tracking the roofline. “The deterioration is primarily superficial.”

“Genius,” Daniel coughed into his fist, earning a glare from his sister and a small, irritated frown from Andre.

“Jock,” Andre shot back.

Calista squeezed through the chained barn doors. “Come on, scaredy-cats!” she called, her voice echoing in the dusty space where light beamed through wall gaps onto rusted equipment covered in yellowed sheets.

“This is amazing,” she said, unveiling an antique tractor. “Think what this would fetch at auction.”

Andre examined a workbench. “These tools are ancient, from before the 1950s. That manual hand drill predates rural electricity.”

Julian lingered at the entrance. “We shouldn't touch anything.”

Too late—Daniel had mounted the tractor. “Vroooom! Out of my way, peasants! Mister coming through!”

“I want to drive too!” Adrian broke free from Bianca and raced toward his brother.

“Careful!” Bianca hurried after him through the dust.

Andre had moved deeper into the barn, drawn to something tucked in the far corner.

A large object stood covered by a heavy blue tarp that, unlike the other coverings, seemed relatively clean and deliberately placed. “There's something different about this,” he said, more to himself than the others.

Calista heard him and abandoned her inspection of a rusty plow. “What did you find?” she asked, joining him at the mysterious shape. Without waiting for a response, she grasped the edge of the tarp and pulled.

The covering slid away to reveal a strange contraption unlike anything they'd seen before. It stood about waist-high on a metal pedestal, a circular device ringed with dials and buttons.

At its center sat what looked like a compass, but instead of cardinal directions, the face featured symbols none of them recognized.

“What is it?” Julian asked, curiosity finally overcoming his caution as he abandoned his post by the door.

“Some kind of navigation equipment, maybe?” Andre suggested, already examining the dials without touching them. “But the design doesn't match any historical or modern instruments I've studied.”

Bianca, who had managed to extract Adrian from the tractor with promises of something more interesting, approached cautiously. “We shouldn't touch it. It could be valuable, or even dangerous.”

“Or both,” Daniel grinned, already reaching toward a particularly shiny button.

Bianca smacked his hand away. “I'm serious. We don't know what this thing is.”

“It looks like something from a cool sci-fi movie,” Calista said, circling the device. “Like a time machine or something.”

“Time machines aren't real,” Andre stated, though his voice held a note of uncertainty as he studied the strange markings. “But this definitely isn't farm equipment. The metallurgical composition appears advanced, and these control interfaces...”

“Maybe it's a movie prop,” Calista suggested, inching closer.

Daniel snorted. “In an abandoned barn in the middle of nowhere? Use your brain, Cali.”

“I just meant—”

“Guys, look!” Adrian pointed excitedly. “It's doing something!”

Indeed, the center dial had begun to glow faintly, a soft blue light emanating from the strange symbols.

“Nobody touched it, right?” Bianca asked, her voice sharp with sudden alarm.

Andre shook his head. “The ambient temperature in here must have activated some kind of sensor. The technology appears to be responsive to environmental stimuli.”

“English, please,” Daniel groaned.

“It turned on by itself,” Calista translated, her eyes wide with wonder as she shook her head.

Julian, backing away, bumped into a support beam. The vibration traveled through the old structure, dislodging a small shower of dust and one sizeable spider, which landed directly on Julian's shoulder.

“SPIDER!” he yelped, leaping forward and colliding with the mysterious device. His hand slapped against several buttons at once.

The gentle glow instantly intensified to a brilliant blaze. The dials began to spin, and a high-pitched whirring filled the barn. Wind seemed to come from nowhere, whipping around them in a tightening circle.

“What did you do?” Bianca shouted over the noise, reaching for Adrian.

“I didn't—” Julian began, but his words were lost as the light from the machine expanded outward, engulfing them all in a blinding flash.

For a moment that might have been a second or an eternity, they felt nothing—no barn floor beneath their feet, no dusty air in their lungs, not even the press of their own bodies.

Then, with a sensation like being suddenly dunked underwater and just as suddenly pulled out again, the world rematerialized around them.

But it wasn't the world they knew.