

# PROXIMITY

By M. A. George

Copyright 2012 M. A. George

Smashwords Edition

License Notes

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Cover Art by M.A. George, featuring:

"Swircles Ornament" Brushes © Tijo/brusheezy.com

"Urban Retroism & Flares" Brushes © deejay0v0/brusheezy.com

"Modern Long Corridor" © Can Stock Photo Inc. / Enki

# CHAPTER 1

Okay, so I admit it. I am infatuated with a guy at work.

Perhaps more aptly put, I am fascinated by him.

Or better yet, I am perplexed—and a little dismayed—by how fascinating I find him.

Granted, the human species in general has always captivated me. The complexity of the human mind and diversity among individuals is astonishing. Although psychology was a prerequisite college course for entry to medical school—and thus was required whether I liked it or not—it was undeniably one of my favorite subjects. So much so that I briefly considered a career in psychiatric medicine.

However, I quickly realized that physical ailments were much more easily corrected than mental ones. And I longed to be useful.

So I focused my attention on anatomy, physiology, biochemistry, et cetera. I didn't exactly have what you would call an active social life in college—just enough of the appearance of one to present a "well-rounded" application to medical school. I had impeccable grades, so it was not a big surprise when several top schools offered me an acceptance. But I've never been one to seek out the spotlight, so I stayed as close to home as possible with the University of New Mexico School of Medicine in Albuquerque.

Don't get me wrong, I'd love to venture farther away. But my father is getting up in years, and I know how much it comforts him to keep me within close range. My older sister, Sabela, and I are his only personal contacts in this world. While I stay here out of a combination of love for my father and somewhat reluctant obligation, she does so out of pure compassion and selflessness. Fourteen years my senior, she is the most inspiringly caring and optimistic person I know—and without doubt the closest friend and confidant I will ever find.

So I stay here in New Mexico.

Even now, having completed my medical residency and fellowship several years ago, I remain as a member of the faculty at UNM. If I sound disappointed with the path my life has taken, I'm certainly not. I have a sense of purpose here. It isn't a lucrative position, but one benefit of my father's years of experience and simple life is that money really isn't a concern. So I am free to do the work I enjoy, teaching future physicians and caring for less fortunate patients. I have found a niche here, and it gives me a sense of belonging that I hadn't really known before.

The camaraderie that comes with enduring the grueling hours of medical training together has allowed me to form friendships with some of my colleagues. And friendship has always been difficult for me. Relationships (aside from family) have been virtually nonexistent in my life until recently—not because I am boring, obnoxious, or selfish (at least I hope not). My family has always led a somewhat reclusive existence, and I haven't ever dared to break out of that mold.

Anyway, back to the guy.

His name is Eric Moran, and he is a Ph.D. candidate doing microbiology research here. As a specialist in Infectious Disease myself, I cross paths with him periodically throughout the week. That is, for the past six weeks, since he abruptly arrived on the scene in the middle of the semester. I am certain he was not here prior to that time, because I would undoubtedly have noticed. I won't deny that he is exquisitely beautiful. But as much as his physical appearance appeals to me, it is his demeanor that intrigues me—perhaps because it strikes so close to my own.

He seems quiet, calm, reserved...Yet there is a glint of something brewing beneath the surface in his eyes. He always has an expression of careful contemplation, like he is distracted by something much more important than the subject at hand. When spoken to, he responds with a radiantly warm smile. Yet he rarely seems to initiate any conversation. The few times I have heard him speak, his words were sparse, yet intelligently delivered. As though he carefully selected each and every one.

Despite the appearance of shyness, there is an unmistakable confidence in the way he moves. He walks with a distinct purpose. And he seems to have no difficulty making eye contact. Not that I would know firsthand—I reflexively dart my eyes away when he looks in my direction...usually with the uncomfortable realization that I have been blatantly staring.

Which brings me back to his pleasant appearance. "Pleasant" is actually the understatement of the century. He looks to be about twenty-five or thirty years old, with an athletic physique that would rival that of a teenage track star (not muscle bound, just perfectly-defined muscle tone under his button-down dress shirt with casually rolled up sleeves). His skin is fair like mine—presumably from hours spent in the lab rather than out enjoying the sun—and it has a perfectly smooth texture, at least from the appearance of things.

I haven't even come close to touching him.

We haven't formally met, so there has been no opportunity for a handshake. And somehow I don't think he would take too kindly to my stroking his face with the back of my hand.

He has dark brown, almost black hair, which is just long enough to graze the top of his shirt collar. The texture is fine, with a subtle wave—the kind of hair I envy. My thick, auburn hair would probably be stunning if not for the unruly, anything-but-subtle waves that send it flying in every direction. It has the look of perpetual bed head, even after meticulous application of product and skillful use of a blow dryer and straightening iron. Hence the ponytail holder that I might as well have surgically attached to my head.

How did I end up on this tangent? I have a tendency toward distraction, particularly when my hair is involved.

Anyway, back to Eric.

As I mentioned before, there is a thoughtful glimmer in his brilliantly green eyes. And they become that much more brilliant when he smiles. It is a smile that sends butterflies through my stomach.

Yes, I've got it bad.

I am hopelessly obsessed with a beautiful, intelligent, gentle, seemingly perfect man who is most likely completely unaware of my general existence. It is an altogether human emotional experience.

Did I mention I'm not human?...

# CHAPTER 2

My name is Palta Capal, and I am quite possibly Earth's first and only natural-born citizen without a trace of human blood.

My parents traveled from their home planet, Onontí, when my sister Sabela was just six years old. I was not yet even a glimmer in my mother's eye. My only knowledge of their story prior to my birth comes from the vantage point of young Sabela. Whether her memories are entirely accurate is uncertain. But from my early childhood, I eagerly accepted her vivid tales as a factual historical account. It has been many years since I was lulled to sleep by one of her bedtime stories, but I recall them with such detail that I have difficulty separating my own childhood memories from hers.

Onontí is a very small planet, easily disregarded from a distant perspective as a mere moon. Yet it has geographical features and atmospheric composition very similar to Earth's own. My father, Kencane Capal, held some sort of government office there. At the time of his departure, a power struggle between two opposing political groups was reaching a fever pitch.

The first group was a centuries-old monarchy, which had maintained a remarkable level of peace throughout the majority of its reign. The second began as a deceptively minor uprising, spearheaded by one man intent on overthrowing the monarchy. He must have been quite charismatic, as his followers grew in number at a surprising pace. Within a few short years, Onontí was on the brink of global civil war.

We have no idea when or how the monarchy became aware of Earth's existence. Presumably they kept this information confidential for decades, if not centuries. It undoubtedly took years to develop the technology to send probes to investigate this planet more closely, and considerably longer to design a ship capable of faster-than-light travel.

Prior to the conflict, there would have been no incentive to hasten along interplanetary relations. However, the balance of power was rapidly shifting, and the monarchy was pushed to action.

Desperately grasping for a quick resolution to the escalating conflict, the decision was made to send an ambassador to Earth in hope of securing an ally. My father was the lucky man for the job. Unwilling to leave his wife and daughter behind in the tumult, he agreed to the task under the condition that they came as a package deal.

My sister recalls the mixture of excitement and sinking desolation watching her home world vanish into the distance as they took flight. The newness soon wore off, and she became restless aboard the tediously uneventful journey. Our mother, Nyoma, would entertain her by singing familiar songs or crafting dolls and toys from miscellaneous items aboard the ship. Together they would conjure up images and stories of what life on their destination planet would be like. After a period of time—at least several months to Sabela's understanding—they touched down somewhere in present-day Alberta, Canada.

It was their intention to find a very rural landing place, and they succeeded. However, our mother was not inclined to endure the unfamiliarly cold climate, and thus they ventured southward, ultimately settling in Utah. The temperatures were still significantly cooler than the Onontian environment, but the terrain reminded our mother of home. Several of her paintings depicting Onontí's red rock formations contrasting against luscious greenery, snow-capped mountains, and deep blue sky still hang in my father's library.

My parents were relieved to find that an acceptable level of physical resemblance between humans and themselves made blending in easier than expected. Through a particular gift for negotiation, my father was able to acquire a substantial chunk of real estate, and they set up a home here on Earth while he began the task of observing the human culture.

When I say my father has a gift for negotiation, it is more than just a winning personality and business savvy. Most Onontians have at least one such characteristic gift—what might be construed as "powers".

These can include physical abilities (such as unusual strength or speed) or exceptional intellectual skill. Some have the ability to influence the world around them, including the thoughts or feelings of others. Such is the case for my father. He cannot (or will not) override an individual's free will, but he has an eerie ability to induce a person to see his point of view. In his defense, he is also more willing and able than most to empathize with others.

Another noteworthy type of gift involves the ability to affect vitality—to speed or slow growth and development of plants, animals, even people. In some cases, this involves the ability to heal. I was not driven to the career of medicine by random choice, it is programmed in my being.

I am a healer—a trait I inherited from my mother.

Never one to be idle, my mother Nyoma took on volunteer work as a nurse not long after settling in. My sister recalls how her caring and nurturing personality, along with her inborn talent, were perfectly suited for the job. Somewhere in the five to six years after my family's arrival on Earth, I was conceived. As it takes quite a while for an Onontian woman to "show" a pregnant belly, she was able to continue working without much difficulty. However, eventually the evidence began to appear—and knowing the rather lengthy gestation would rouse attention, she left her vocation to remain hidden.

During the intervening two years (give or take) before my birth, my mother kept herself occupied by nurturing her creative side. She would paint, sculpt, and compose music. She encouraged Sabela to do the same. She also passed along her knack for growing all things green—maintaining a vast garden allowed them to minimize public contact that much more.

My father continued to study the human population, and he eventually sent communication to Onontí that an alliance was unachievable and must be abandoned. Humans lacked not only the technology, but also the maturity, to enter into such an arrangement.

While he made this recommendation without hesitation, he chose to remain on Earth—both to protect his growing family, and to continue learning about this new species that had begun to form a soft spot in his heart.

As my mother had experienced no complications with the birth of my sister, it never occurred to my parents that the lack of an experienced doctor could prove dangerous. Soon after going into labor, it became apparent that something was going terribly wrong.

Obviously, I arrived unharmed. But my mother knew her own life was slipping away. She pleaded with my father and sister to take care of me as she struggled to maintain consciousness.

And for all her powers of healing, she could not heal herself.

The capacity to restore health comes from within the healer—and depending on the extent of illness or injury, it can require quite a bit of energy. Attempting to heal one's own self only drains that much more energy and hastens the decline. So I entered this new world just as my mother was leaving, at the premature age of one hundred forty-five.

The year was 1895 A.D.

# CHAPTER 3

Common sense would tell you—and Sabela's memories confirm—that my father was irrevocably changed in the moment of my mother's death. She had been his wife and the true love of his life for sixty-five years.

In an instant, he went from a vigorous, charismatic man to an elderly, feeble shell of his former self. He teetered on the verge of absolute despair, yet somehow willed himself to undertake the care of an infant. Sabela's inherent maturity, patience, and helpfulness were invaluable as she was abruptly propelled into surrogate motherhood. Though she truly served as my mother in almost every capacity, she conscientiously avoided taking a controlling power over me. I never resented her position of authority. As I grew in years, she was clearly pleased with my transition to becoming her equal.

Over a century of close companionship has made us much more than sisters or friends. She is like my second self, in many ways my better self. We share many personality traits, whether through genetics or the influence of her example throughout my life. We are both compassionate, observant, and uncomfortable being the focus of attention. We share an easy smile and good sense of humor, though I am quicker to jump to sarcasm.

We of course have our differences.

She is eternally selfless and gracious, content with a tranquil existence. Perhaps she surrendered her own aspirations when dropped feet-first into the simultaneous care of an aging parent and a newborn sibling at the tender age of fourteen.

I, on the other hand, am independent to a fault.

In my adolescent years, my father would often quip that if I came upon a sign with a giant pointing arrow signaling "This Way", I would deliberately turn and run in the opposite direction. My stubbornness has softened over the years, but I still have a tendency to resist advice, especially when coming from my father.

Don't misunderstand me, I was never a real troublemaker. I have always been a law-abiding rule follower, if for no other reason than to protect the safety of my family. I actually have an innate need to please. I am not deliberately defiant, just determined to do things my own unique way.

Perhaps it is because uniqueness is all I really know.

I'm afraid I have given the impression that I somehow dislike my father. On the contrary, he is the cornerstone of my life. In my youth, I went through every emotion toward him—from holding him responsible for bringing us to Earth (and thus facilitating my mother's demise), to being overwhelmed with the guilty realization that I wrenched his heart from his chest the day I came to life. The blaming phase was rather brief, and it is the desolate guilt that still sometimes overpowers me.

Sabela assures me that my parents were both elated with the prospect of my arrival. As many parents do, they yearned to provide a companion for their firstborn child, particularly in this foreign world. It was with great excitement that they prepared for my birth. When tragedy struck, my father could have shunned or resented me. Quite the opposite, he became intensely protective of me. Sabela believes it was solely his love for me that kept him from losing himself in anguish.

I know I exasperate him at times. He is so accustomed to effortlessly swaying others toward his own opinions or beliefs. Yet I thwart his efforts at every turn.

It is not that I am somehow immune to his powers (at least I don't think that is the case). He has a profound moral objection to using unfair tactics, unless given no other choice. While most unsuspecting objects of his persuasive expertise are oblivious to his influence, I am fairly certain I would recognize the deviation from my usual thought processes.

Neither Sabela nor I have ever felt manipulated or coerced into a decision under his control—in Sabela's case because it has never really been necessary. I, however, have given him more than enough temptation to redirect my thoughts or actions. Though I know he is capable of staying his own hand out of remarkable integrity, somehow I believe it is in honor of my mother that he resists so fervently.

He does not often mention her—I know out of grief that will never subside—but on more than one occasion, he has likened my independent spirit to hers.

The futility of my father's diplomatic mission surely made its tragic outcome all the more difficult for him to swallow. It would have been a natural reaction to pack his children up and return to familiar territory. Why he did not is a mystery—one he refuses to discuss even today.

Sabela and I have several theories. Perhaps he feared Onontí was still torn by war and therefore more dangerous than our current situation. If in fact the conflict had ended in favor of the rebellion, my father would almost certainly be punished severely—if not executed—as a traitor. Even had the monarchy regained control, what might have been the cost? Everyone my father had known could be gone and forgotten. At least on Earth we had a relatively safe and comfortable roof over our heads.

Finally, there was the bleak reality that all of these possibilities were irrelevant. How likely was it for a 125-year-old ship that had fallen into disrepair to safely make an interplanetary journey? If said ship even existed anymore. Whatever his reasons, my father severed all contact with Onontí shortly after my birth.

Once again, the result is a long and lonely existence for me in New Mexico. The average Onontian lifespan is apparently somewhere in the neighborhood of three hundred years. So, I am not yet even middle-aged.

I am becoming increasingly aware that I have seen and done all that really holds interest for me in this world. Perhaps it is that world-weariness that has turned my attention toward this enigmatic human man.

# CHAPTER 4

It's not that I have never found a human man attractive before.

In many ways, I am just like any human female. I have an eye for fashion, am obsessed with music, and keep up with popular culture (someone has to make sure my family can blend in when necessary).

I've just always kept appreciation for the male of the species as a long-distance activity. Pursuing anything remotely resembling a relationship just seemed pointless. And I'm not a one-night-stand kind of girl. I am actually a hopeless romantic. I can practically recite every Jane Austen novel by heart. I'm such a sucker for happy endings.

But I gave up long ago on any dreams of my own happy ending.

My sister Sabela disagrees wholeheartedly with my point of view on interspecies relations. It took many years of characteristic patience, but she ultimately found her one true love. Dominick Holloway is an astronomer—as is my sister—currently doing research at the Very Large Array (VLA) radio observatory west of Socorro, New Mexico.

You might guess from the name that Dominick is entirely human. They worked together for over five years before Sabela mustered the courage to confide in him and reveal her true identity. She might have never done so, but as he declared his love for her, she felt compelled to enter into the relationship on completely open terms.

Their distinctly different genetic makeup aside, Dominick and Sabela are a perfect match. He is calm, gentle, and exceedingly shy. Hence the five-plus years to work up the nerve to even ask a girl out. On first encounter, he comes across as your garden-variety science geek. He is taller than average, bordering on lanky. Now middle-aged, his short blond hair is noticeably thinning. But his wide, vividly blue eyes and prominent dimples give his face a more youthful appearance. There is an unmistakable kindness and generosity about him. He was all of twenty-five years old when they met—practically an infant in comparison to Sabela—but he has always demonstrated considerable wisdom beyond his years. I imagine the prospect of a romance with a beautiful alien female was the stuff of his fantasies in those early days. But he fell so comfortably into place beside her that it is clear they simply belonged together.

Sabela had an interest in astronomy from a very early age, even prior to her firsthand experience with interstellar travel. It seems to flow naturally from her own inherent gift—an uncanny sense of direction, even in unfamiliar terrain. She has described it to me as "tunnel vision"—if she concentrates on whatever it is she is looking for, everything else disappears from view.

As a mere child, it was Sabela who assisted my father to find a safe landing place upon entering Earth's atmosphere. And it was by her navigational skills that they were able to locate the ideal setting for their first home in Utah. We would probably still be there if not for a famed incident near Roswell, New Mexico in the summer of 1947.

With the rapid advances in technology over the years since our arrival, we had all known that the time would come when humankind would take more of an interest in the surrounding universe. The level of interest picked up with the mysterious appearance of a purported "flying disk" on a ranch near Roswell. The public interest was fleeting at the time, but of course my family's interest was piqued. My father investigated, and was able to ascertain that the culprit was neither a weather balloon nor little green men. The U.S. government was probably correct in the assumption that revealing the true explanation—a Soviet aircraft over U.S. airspace—would have created much greater pandemonium. Content that this at least kept us from immediate and personal danger, my father all but forgot about the affair.

It was over thirty years later, in 1980, that the incident lurched back into the limelight, prompted by a widely-publicized interview with one of the original crash site investigators. The allegations of a government cover-up brought UFO researchers out of the woodwork. My father was confident there was neither a real alien ship nor a government conspiracy to hunt down such aliens, but he felt it best if we relocated a little closer to the center of the hubbub. He hoped that he would be able to calm the frenzy and get the curiosity to blow over. Still wanting us a safe distance away, he settled upon Albuquerque as our new home.

Over the years, my sister had casually pursued her interest in astronomy, and she was ecstatic when the VLA was inaugurated in 1980. She began conducting research there in the late eighties, and it was there that she met Dominick. Of course, she has spent much of her time watching over Onontí—redirecting any attention away from it as an uninteresting, uninhabitable rock amid an equally uninteresting solar system.

She was obliged in recent years to give up her overt association with the VLA, as everyone around her began to age, while she remained virtually unchanged. Fortunately, we have a trustworthy ally in Dominick, who has graciously stepped into the role of Onontí's guardian.

The proximity of the VLA to our ranch south of Albuquerque has allowed us all to continue residing there together. We don't all share a house—that would be a little awkward—but I can see both my father and my sister's front doors from my upstairs bedroom window. Dominick shares a home with Sabela, as it should be. You would think my father would have gone ballistic at the thought of Sabela finding a human mate—not to mention letting him in on our whole story. But his own years of loneliness had softened his heart, and he actually welcomed the idea with very little protest. It helped that Dominick was clearly not the type to seek out public attention.

My sister is overwhelmingly happy with her closeness to Dominick, and she is genuinely okay with the fact that she will inevitably watch him grow old and die. We acknowledged early on that there were differences between humans and ourselves. Most notable is that we're much more durable. We're not immortal—far from it—just more resistant to disease and injury, quicker to heal. From this resilience comes our impressive longevity.

Rather than dwelling on the inevitable, Sabela chooses to treasure her days with Dominick, trusting that his memory will comfort her in the long years after he is gone. Her experience nursing our aging father has prepared her for the reality that she will someday be Dominick's caregiver as well.

I, however, can't help but notice every gray hair that appears on his head (or disappears with his receding hairline), and at times I am filled with sorrow for her future. She will not be the only one to grieve his loss—I have grown to love Dominick as a brother, and he is in many ways the son my father never had. But I know I cannot begin to approximate Sabela's devotion.

When I watch the two of them together, I do ache for a similar connection with someone. But until lately I hadn't come across anyone who would sway me to surrender my fears. The thought of leaving myself vulnerable to a love that would inescapably end in sorrow—my sorrow—has been a sufficient deterrent to any pursuit of a similar relationship. Yet when I look at Eric, I can feel my courage building.

# CHAPTER 5

When I say my courage has been building, it wasn't quite ready for what happened today.

I began my day like any other Friday morning, meeting in the cafeteria with my colleague and closest human friend, Madeleine Lewitt. She and I were classmates in medical school, although we didn't really come to know one another very well until entering internship. The three years of combined internship and residency are an intensive and sometimes harrowing introduction to the practice of medicine. Co-residents tend to commiserate and keep each other bolstered, forming bonds that only such a uniquely shared experience can bring. Although we have little contact outside the workplace, Madeleine and I can chat for hours on everything from hair care products to medical board examinations to movies, music, and men.

We were in the midst of our typical chatter, just sitting down to our usual corner table, when I caught a glimpse through the window of a couple having coffee at one of the bistro tables out on the plaza. Madeleine was in the midst of relating her weekend plans, but in that moment I honestly wasn't paying any attention. My aforementioned courage was abruptly snuffed when my eyes took in the shockingly gorgeous woman sitting across from Eric.

She was slender but very shapely, with long layered dark brown hair and high-arching eyebrows accentuating her bright blue eyes. She wore a form-fitting black sweater and pencil skirt with long, porcelain legs extending down to her black patent heels.

She was like something out of a fashion magazine.

Eric leaned in toward her to whisper something in her ear, and they both broke into raucous laughter, like giddy schoolchildren. It was the most animated I had ever seen him. When she laughed, her red lipstick contrasted perfectly against her brilliant white teeth. I felt an instantaneous jolt of resentment toward her, detesting the way she casually stroked his forearm as she spoke. It was immediately followed by the realization that I was a pathetic fool.

What on Earth had made me think that he was single?

My trance was broken by the sudden gap in Madeleine's dialogue, as she realized I was lost in thought. I sheepishly apologized for my inattention, but Madeleine knows me well enough to recognize the look of distraction on my face. I stammered in an attempt to fabricate an explanation for the tears welling up in my eyes, grumbling that I had burned my tongue on the hot tea. But my recovery came a moment too late—she had already followed my line of sight and raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"Who knew that Eric Moran has himself a supermodel girlfriend?" After a moment of careful inspection, she turned back toward me with a smirk.

"She's stunning, isn't she?" I tried to hide the repulsion in my voice.

"I wonder who does her hair, it's amazing." As if I hadn't already taken notice of that nauseating fact. "Well, I guess it's no surprise...He is gorgeous," she said. Without giving it any further thought, she moved on to another subject.

I tried to divert my attention away from the happy couple, forcing myself to focus on the conversation with Madeleine. It was hard to ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I couldn't help but notice as they stood to leave, embracing with a tender hug. He walked beside her, gently guiding her forward with his hand on the small of her back, until they rounded the corner and were out of my view. I was at least relieved that they hadn't kissed goodbye. My stomach was in such a knot, I surely would have lost my breakfast.

I gave it my best to get through the rest of the day, but my mind kept wandering back to the mysterious woman who had stolen the man of my dreams. I tried to reason with myself—I barely knew him, how could he possibly be the love of my life? And clearly she hadn't stolen him from me...He was never mine to steal.

Try as I might to forget the whole ordeal and accept defeat, I kept mentally comparing myself to this divine goddess. I have already alluded to the significant contrast between her flowing locks of radiantly shiny hair and the mess of wayward waves I battle every morning (Have I made it clear I'm not a fan of my hair?).

The only feature I despise more than my hair would be my ears. I must say, I didn't get a good look at hers, but I would bet my life they are nothing to rival mine...

Oh, how I loathe my ears—all pointy on the top like elves of lore. Not quite Santa's-little-helper style, but close enough.

My sister has a faint but conspicuous peak to her charmingly delicate ears. The kind of feature that is easily overlooked in an otherwise gorgeous woman, almost adding to her feminine allure. I on the other hand am particularly well-endowed with an obvious sharp point to the tips of these cursed abominations adorning the sides of my head.

And cosmetic surgery really isn't an option. If the comparatively tough, fibrous tissues didn't give me away, the bright orange blood would certainly get their attention. So I am resigned to keeping my bangs just long enough to sweep to the sides and conceal the evidence.

I am quick to point out my faults, but there are attributes for which I am grateful. My facial features are relatively attractive—round, clear blue eyes...a dainty, slightly upturned nose...full lips with a narrow chin. The net result is a feminine, almost childlike appearance. Despite my many years, I can easily pass for a human woman in her thirties.

I am fairly petite, standing five and a half feet tall—a bit small by Onontian standards—but with long, lithe dancer's limbs. I have studied ballet for a number of years, and generally enjoy all things athletic; but I must admit there is a healthy portion of good genetics that comes into play.

All the same, I know without a doubt it is hopeless to expect I could ever distract Eric away from his own personal Miss Universe. I saw the love in his eyes as he hung on her every word, while I sank back into the loneliness I have always known.

# CHAPTER 6

Mercifully it was the weekend, and I couldn't have been more relieved to put the medical center in my rearview mirror. I wasn't on call this weekend, so I resolved to turn off my phone, hole up in my house, and live off leftovers. I knew Sabela would worry if I didn't at least check in—so I sent her a quick text saying I was overtired from a rough day at work and needed some alone time, promising to stop by and fill her in after work on Monday.

Immediately upon reaching home, I took a long shower and changed into some incredibly unattractive but extremely cozy pajamas. I left my hair to air dry (I'm pretty bad off if I don't see the need for a blow dryer) and tossed a frozen lasagna dinner into the microwave.

The occasion clearly called for a melancholy movie, but as a rule I don't buy any DVDs that I find too depressing. I scanned my collection for something reasonably dark and settled upon one of the four versions of Jane Eyre I hold in my possession. (You heard me right, that's four—I know, I practically have a disease. I am physically unable to resist good classic romantic drama.)

By the time the lasagna was done heating, it no longer seemed very appealing. I picked at it for a minute while the previews ran, then gave up and put it in the fridge.

It's definitely not like me to miss a meal.

I sprawled out on the couch and tried to get absorbed in the movie. I was reasonably successful until the scene where Mr. Rochester proclaims his love for Jane, calling her a "strange, almost unearthly thing". Clearly I know the story by heart—and it has been many years since it has moved me to tears—but I suddenly found myself blubbering like a baby.

If only it were the case that "unearthly" women had that kind of luck in love.

I clicked the remote and sat for a moment in the pitch dark. Eventually I hoisted myself off the couch and stumbled my way through the darkness to my bedroom. I thought I would never fall asleep—but the next thing I knew, the sunlight was coming in through the window.

I shuffled to the bathroom for a quick freshen-up, then threw on a tank top and fitted athletic shorts. My stomach spoke to me with a loud rumble, and I headed to the kitchen to practically inhale a bowl of cereal.

I needed no time to consider how I would spend my day. Instinctively, I headed to my little ballet studio above the garage, and cranked up the music. I lost myself in dance for hours, until my legs were shaking and threatened to give out beneath me. Then I just flopped down on my back in the middle of the floor and let the music wash over me.

Sunday morning passed much the same as Saturday had, but by the late afternoon I was beginning to lift out of my funk. I managed to do the laundry and clean up the kitchen, then dressed myself and turned my phone back on. I decided to check in with Sabela earlier than promised, knowing she would be sick with worry at this uncharacteristic detachment.

There was obvious relief in her voice when she picked up the phone, and she insisted I come over for dinner. In her usual style, she made no attempt to pry from me the reason for my reclusive weekend. Although I was in a much better state of mind than just two days prior, I didn't feel ready to divulge the shameful reason for my mini depressive episode. I brushed it aside as work-related grumpiness and tried to carry on with casual dinner conversation. Falling comfortably into family chatter with Sabela and Dominick eased my woe considerably, and by the end of the evening I was certain I would survive this ridiculous self-pity.

I vowed to return to my normal self at work on Monday, and I managed surprisingly well. It helped that I didn't come across Eric that day. By the time I did see him on Wednesday, I was actually quite composed. My eyes still drifted in his direction almost uncontrollably, but my stomach only lurched once or twice.

Before long, I was into another weekend. There was plenty of catch-up work to do from my "lost weekend" before, so I had little time to dwell on anything else. By the following week, I was rather confident that I would come through this temporary heartbreak unscathed.

But just as life was returning to its usual not-quite-normal state, the unthinkable happened.

# CHAPTER 7

It was late in the afternoon on Thursday when I wrapped up all my clinic work and headed back toward my office in the Health Sciences Center. As I passed the hallway leading to the laboratory wing, I was struck by the distinct smell of something burning. It seemed to be emanating from that wing, so I turned and headed down the empty corridor to investigate. As I approached the entrance to the microbiology lab, a wisp of smoke escaped from the cracked door.

As I pulled the door open and stepped into the empty lab, I was stunned to see flames rising up from a haphazard pile of papers and other debris on the floor—as if someone had just decided to build a bonfire in the middle of the walkway. I darted back across the hall to the fire extinguisher cabinet and returned to begin spraying the flames. Luckily the fire seemed to be freshly lit, and I was able to put it out without much difficulty.

I stood for a moment to contemplate this peculiar incident, then turned to set the fire extinguisher on the floor. As I did so, my eyes caught sight of a body sprawled face-first on the floor between the lab stations. My heart leapt into my throat at the agonizing realization that it was the body of Eric Moran.

I ran to the wall to pull the emergency alarm, then sprinted back to Eric's lifeless body, quickly turning him over to face upward. Kneeling beside his head, I bent forward to position the side of my cheek over his nose and mouth, searching for some sign he was breathing. I paused for a moment, then whimpered in devastation at the eerie stillness.

As my mind threatened to spiral out of control, I swiftly resolved to be strong and get myself together. Years of medical training suddenly kicked in, and I acted on impulse. Pinching his nose closed with my fingers, I inhaled sharply and placed my mouth to his. I watched as his chest gently inflated with my exhaling breath. I looked up as my fingers instinctively searched the side of his neck for a carotid artery pulsation. I discovered with a hint of hope that the vessel was thrumming almost imperceptibly.

It was in that moment that my eyes caught sight of the slowly expanding pool of fluid emanating from the back of his head. Anyone else may have assumed he had spilled some sort of laboratory chemical as he fell unconscious. I, however, recognized the iridescent, almost neon orange substance immediately...It was blood.

Eric's blood.

I sat transfixed for a few long seconds, then cautiously reached my hand up toward his forehead. I already knew what I would find as I began to comb my fingers through his hair—yet an irrepressible gasp escaped my throat as my eyes absorbed the distinct peak at the top of his ear.

I suddenly realized the emergency alarm was still blaring, as I made out the overlapping sound of footsteps quickly approaching in the hallway. I sprang back into action, sliding my hands under Eric's shoulders as I pushed his torso upward, bringing his limp body into a quasi-seated position. I moved in behind him, threading my arms beneath his armpits and bringing his upper back gently to rest against my chest. His head drooped forward, and I carefully guided it back to prop against my left shoulder.

Planting my feet firmly on the ground, I clutched around the front of his chest as I pushed with all my might to stand. Once on my feet, I began quickly shuffling backward toward the emergency exit. Pushing through the door with my back, I stepped out into the open alley. I was just pulling Eric's feet clear of the closing door as I made out the faint sound of voices entering the lab from within. The heavy metal door clicked closed, and we were silently alone in the alley.

I stood panting as my eyes scanned the area, settling upon a small maintenance shed thirty yards away. I resumed my backward shuffle, then carefully set Eric's unconscious body down to lean against my knees when I arrived at the shed door. Mercifully, it was unlocked—I pushed through the door with the sole of my foot as I heaved Eric inside the stuffy little shed. Taking care to shut the door, I pulled his body to lay facing upward in the center of the floor. It was only then that I realized every muscle in my body was shaking. I quickly shook out my arms and knelt down beside him, proceeding to inspect his scalp for the source of the bleeding.

The three-inch gash behind his left ear was still oozing. With a gasp, I realized the damage went far deeper. Eric's skull beneath the open wound was not just broken—it was shattered. This was not simply the result of a strike against the floor on his way down...This was violent blunt-force trauma.

Crouching forward, I placed my right palm over the wound as my left hand came to rest above his heart. I fixed my eyes intently upon his beautiful, motionless face—focusing all my energy as I pressed down firmly with both hands.

I cannot explain how or why the healing process works. I just know how it feels—like a surge of electrical current emanating from every pore in my body.

After a moment, I sensed with relief that the bleeding and swelling within his brain were slowly beginning to recede. The current coursed through my hands as they began to tremble uncontrollably.

On a good day, healing such extensive internal injuries would take everything I had. I fought against the knowledge that my body was already too depleted from the exertion of dragging a grown man an impossible distance. My heart fluttered as I noticed Eric's eyelids beginning to flicker. Drawing from the adrenaline rush, I struggled to hold my eyes open as the room darkened and my peripheral vision began to fade.

Just as Eric's lids slowly parted, revealing those glorious green eyes underneath, I lost my battle with unconsciousness and slumped forward across his chest.

# CHAPTER 8

I regained consciousness with my face still resting against his chest, rejoicing at its steady rise and fall. His heart thumped powerfully in my ear, and I paused there to listen to the most wonderful sound imaginable. I would have been content to daydream there for hours, but I snapped back into reality as a low groan resonated in Eric's chest. I quickly pushed myself up and scooted back to sit a few feet away from him, suddenly uncomfortable with physical contact.

Eric reached his hand up to rub the side of his head as he slowly propped himself up with the opposite elbow. His eyes passed over the contents of the cramped shed, coming to rest on my face.

"Palta?" he asked, the confusion plainly visible on his face.

I hesitated momentarily, preoccupied with the fact that he knew my name. "Yes?" I finally managed to speak.

Regaining his polished composure, he lowered his hand and pushed up to a seated position. With a polite tone, he said, "Forgive me, Palta—but I seem to be having difficulty recalling how we got here..."

"How's your head?" I asked, as he reached up again to massage the side of his scalp. "You took quite a blow."

He lowered his eyes, tilting his head to the side and creasing his forehead for a moment as he considered the idea. Eventually he collected himself again as he looked back up toward the door. We both realized simultaneously that the light through the tiny window was beginning to fade to night.

Eric began to shift his weight to stand, but faltered as he stumbled backward into the cabinet behind him.

"Sit back down," I urged him. "You're still weak...You lost a lot of blood."

Suddenly he froze, his eyes now wide with alarm as he focused on my left shoulder. I looked down to see the conspicuous patch of orange beginning to dry on my sleeve.

I looked back up at his face, still frozen with shock, with an anxious tension in my eyes. I waited for a moment, then sighed aloud with the thought of what I was about to do. Tentatively, I raised my hand and touched my fingertips to my right temple. Diverting my eyes away from his, I slowly swept my bangs up and back, carefully tucking the strands behind my ear. After a long pause, I shifted my eyes back to meet his gaze.

Eyes still wide, he swallowed hard as he took in the sight of me. Then, with a startling jolt, he turned and darted toward the door. I sat motionless as the sound of his footsteps pounding on the pavement rapidly receded into the distance.

I stayed there for several minutes, utterly spent, mulling over the images in my mind. I was used to the unusual—but this evening had gone well beyond unusual. My mind settled on two concerning realities:

Firstly, the sight of my ears could definitely clear a room.

Secondly—and much more disturbingly—Eric Moran was deathly afraid of me.

# CHAPTER 9

As the cramped little shed began to fall into total darkness, I rose to my feet and stepped out into the alley. I was scarcely aware of my surroundings as I made my way to the parking garage. Realizing I had left all my belongings in my office, I hesitated for a moment before deciding to just get in the car and head home without them.

The dashboard clock finally caught my attention as I drove down the highway leading to my turnoff—it was just past nine o'clock. Granted, the past half hour had been spent driving. But even so, there was a substantial gap between the time I had first left the clinic and now.

I was certain the length of time spent in putting out the fire and dragging Eric to safety must have taken a matter of minutes at most. And though the seconds dragged by as my healing hands struggled to maintain their contact with his body, I knew the process had taken thirty or forty seconds, tops. I was left with the conclusion that my time unconscious was longer than I had realized.

I pulled my car into the garage and shut the door behind me. Still mentally and physically exhausted—both from dragging Eric's unconscious body through the alley, and also from the healing that sapped away the last of my remaining strength—I trudged into the house and headed for the stairs that led to my bedroom. I undressed to shower, pausing a moment to inspect the dried blood stain on my blouse, with a curious sadness coming over me at the sight of it. Tossing it on the floor next to the laundry hamper, I stepped into the shower and cranked the water as hot as I could stand it.

Bleary-eyed, I dressed for bed and practically passed out before I could even lay down. I propped my head up off the pillow just long enough to check that my alarm was set, then closed my eyes and instantly sank into comatose sleep.

That night I dreamed that I had run after Eric into the alley, my legs burning as I called out his name. He only sped away faster, never once looking back my way, as the alleyway extended out infinitely in front of him. I was still trapped in this endless chase when my alarm buzzed to herald the new day.

Even though my body told me a sick day was clearly in order, my mind was eager to get to work. I peeled myself out of the bed and began a condensed version of my usual morning routine. I arrived at the medical center a little earlier than was necessary, so I couldn't help but fill the time by swinging past the microbiology lab. The door was propped open, as a maintenance crew was already set to work cleaning up the mess inside. The lab had clearly been vacated, so I stepped a little further down the hall to peer in the window of the adjacent lab. I recognized several of Eric's colleagues, but he was nowhere to be seen.

I went on about my morning, reminding myself that his absence was just what I had expected. The morning clinic schedule was packed, so before I knew it lunch had arrived. I made my way to the lecture hall for the usual noon educational conference. I stopped at the long table just inside the entrance, picking up the familiar white Styrofoam takeout box marked "Turkey". Grabbing a bottle of water, I proceeded to my usual seat in the second row amid the other faculty. I opened the box and eyed the soggy sandwich, chalky sugar cookie, and rumpled bag of chips wedged in between. I closed the box, pushing it away to the edge of the desk, and opened my water bottle.

Two missed meals in less than a month...This was definitely going for my record.

The lecture hall began to fill to capacity as the crowd of students and residents filed through the doorway. Madeleine took her place next to me just as the lights were lowering. The chief resident stepped to the podium to announce the guest lecturer, a nephrologist out of north Texas. In no mood for another rousing lecture on acid-base disorders, I folded my arms on the desk in front of me and looked up at the projector screen in a halfhearted attempt to feign interest.

Just a few minutes into the lecture, I glanced over to Madeleine to see an equally bored look on her face. She leaned my way, whispering, "Did you hear about the fire in the micro lab?"

"No," I lied, "Was anyone hurt?"

"Thankfully, no...Everyone had already gone home for the day."

"Was there much damage?" I tried to think of the typical questions you should ask in this situation.

"Nothing structural, just made a huge mess of the place," she whispered back.

"Do they know how it started?" Surely the piled-up debris on the floor would not have been construed as accidental.

"Evidently someone ransacked the place, then tried to set the evidence on fire," she answered. "For some reason, Eric Moran's station took the brunt of it."

"Why? Who would do such a thing?" This time I was legitimately curious.

"I don't know," she shrugged. "Maybe they wanted to sabotage his work...Didn't like the competition."

"Does Eric have any theories on the matter?" I found myself questioning if he would ever consider pointing the finger in my direction...Surely not. It would be too much of a risk of exposing himself.

"Nobody has talked to him. Apparently he showed up early this morning, took one look at the mess, threw a few of his things in a box, and stalked out without saying a word."

"He didn't say anything to anyone?" I mentally breathed a sigh of relief.

"I'm sure he just needed to go somewhere and blow off steam," she reasoned. "A couple of months' research down the drain, I'd be pissed off too."

Madeleine does have a tiny temper, although her reaction would not typically be silence. She can deliver a pretty impressive tongue lashing when she wants to—not that I've ever been on the receiving end. Usually it's one of a selection of pompous male physicians we've known over the years, the ones who act like they own the place. They can certainly get under my skin, but I've never really been pushed to the point of harsh words—it actually takes a lot to make me lose my temper.

"I'm sure he'll be back in a few days," Madeleine continued, "once they get the lab back in order."

"Yeah...probably," I responded flatly, knowing full well there wasn't a chance in hell. On that note, I turned my head back in the direction of the projector screen—maybe if I actually tried to pay attention to the presentation, I would have better luck pushing Eric out of my mind.

# CHAPTER 10

As the day wore on, I gradually came to the conclusion that I had to fill Sabela in on all of this. I'd never really kept anything of significance in my life from her, and the weight of concealing something this monumental was unbearable—especially knowing that she alone in this world could have any likelihood of understanding what I was going through. Not to mention the minor detail that we were not the only Onontians on Earth—breaking news she had a right to know.

I went home to change after work and picked up the phone to call her. It turned out Dominick was working late tonight, so she was over at our father's house cooking him dinner. I told her I'd head over to help out.

I walked the hundred yards to my father's house, letting myself in through the back door without bothering to knock. Sabela was bustling around the little kitchen, while my father sat in his usual place at the kitchen table. His face lit up when I walked into the room.

"Paltafoena, my love! Come give your ancient father a hug." My father refused to use my nickname, at least in the privacy of his own home.

I walked over and bent forward to wrap my arms around him. As I stood back up, his warm eyes looked up at me. Then he squinted slightly, a scornful look crossing his face. Knowing exactly what his meaning was, I sheepishly reached up to tuck my bangs behind my ears.

"Now, there's my beautiful girl," he smiled. My father hated when my hair fell forward to cover my eyes—and he saw absolutely nothing wrong with my freakish ears.

I walked around the counter into the kitchen to help Sabela with the food prep. We fell into casual family banter, once again a comfort to my uneasy mind. As I had no intention of making my father aware of things—at least not yet—I chose other topics of conversation, making no mention of Eric until Sabela and I were alone. Once Father was settled into his library chair for his customary evening reading, Sabela and I said goodnight and set back on foot toward her house.

"Would you like to stop by my place and keep me company for a little while?" she asked, sensing I was in need of a good talk. "Dominick isn't due home for another hour or so."

"Yes, I would." I looked at her meaningfully. "I have a lot to tell you about."

"I suspected as much," she replied with a soft smile. "You were unusually chatty at dinner tonight. That usually means you're trying to keep something from Father."

I had no idea I was so transparent. "When did you pick up on that?" I asked, admittedly impressed—yet a little annoyed that apparently I couldn't hide anything, even if I wanted to.

"Somewhere around a hundred and five years ago...Give or take," she chuckled. "Only this time it's more serious than just sneaking out of the house to go to a movie." She eyed me thoughtfully.

"You're right," I said. "You have no idea how serious. Trust me, Father isn't ready to hear this one."

Sabela's face grew somber as she read the troubled look on mine. "Come inside...I'm all ears," she replied.

"Yeah, so am I." I rolled my eyes and smiled, trying to lighten the uncomfortably serious mood. Sabela smiled sweetly and led the way through the door as we entered her house. Flicking on the lights, she stepped over to the fridge to grab two bottles of water. I walked over to flop down on the couch.

"Okay...Spill." She handed me my water as she sat down next to me.

I paused, tucking my bottom lip in as I debated how to begin. "Before I get to the dramatic parts, I think I need to catch you up to speed on the last couple of months," I led off. "There is someone who...came into my life, so to speak...that I haven't mentioned before." I took a sip of my water, then set it down on the floor, turning to sit cross-legged as I faced Sabela on the couch. "His name is Eric Moran, and he's a microbiology researcher at the medical school."

"And by 'coming into your life', I gather you don't just mean the two of you are working together," she guessed.

"As far as he is concerned, it hardly even went that far," I said with a forlorn raise of my eyebrows. I proceeded to tell Sabela all about the captivatingly perfect man who had dominated my thoughts for so many weeks. I explained that my weekend of isolation the month before had come at the realization that he was already involved with another woman—the equally captivating beauty who had become the object of my contempt.

"I'm so sorry, Palta." Sabela was genuinely heartbroken for me. "But try not to sell yourself short...You never seem to realize what an amazing person you are. Maybe with time Eric will see you for who you are, and this other woman may fall by the wayside."

"That's just the problem," I continued. "He already has seen me for who I am..."

It took her a second to catch my meaning, then her jaw dropped ever so slightly. Regaining her composure, she spoke softly, "How did that happen? I thought you said you'd hardly spoken to him. Did he see something you didn't intend for him to?"

"Actually, more like I saw something that he didn't intend for me to." I continued my story, detailing the disastrous events of the night before. Sabela listened intently without interjecting a word. As I concluded—with Eric sprinting away while I sat dumbfounded in the shed—a puzzled expression crossed her face.

"Why on Earth would he be afraid of you?" She seemed to be asking herself more than anything. "Surely he doesn't think that you were the one who attacked him?"

"I have absolutely no idea. He did suffer extensive brain trauma...Maybe he has no memory of the person responsible," I hypothesized. "I suppose I would be freaked out in that situation too."

"Palta, you weigh all of a hundred and fifteen pounds dripping wet," she said. "If he's as athletic as you said he is, he could have no possible reason to fear you." She paused to contemplate the matter. "Well, of course that's just one of a hundred questions. What is he doing here? Is he alone? Surely every Onontian on Earth isn't living in New Mexico by chance."

"Believe me, I've thought of them all," I responded. "How long has he been here? If he just traveled to Earth, how did he do so unnoticed? You and Mother and Father were lucky—there was no such thing as a satellite or space telescope in those days. And probably most importantly...Who is trying to kill him, and why?"

Sabela's forehead creased as she concentrated intently. "I haven't got a clue...But I think we have no choice but to try to find out. Did anyone say anything at work today? I'm assuming he didn't show up?" she asked.

"Apparently he came in for all of two seconds, maybe just to put in an appearance so nobody thought he was responsible for the mess," I replied. "He didn't say anything about my involvement...In fact, he didn't say anything at all. Nobody seems to have any useful information—nothing more than idle gossip. Everyone thinks it was just a case of sabotage related to his work."

"Why would someone do that?" Sabela questioned the logic. "What was so earth shattering about his work?"

"Nothing that I know of," I responded. "That's why it doesn't make any sense. It had to be something personal. And somehow I highly doubt the person involved is human..."

Sabela pointed out that my eyelids were drooping, and I had started to yawn uncontrollably. "I know you must be beyond exhausted," she said gently. "We're clearly not going to solve this tonight. Why don't you go home and get some rest? We'll talk about it more tomorrow."

"I think I have to, if there's any chance of my waking up at a decent hour tomorrow," I yawned again. "Do me a favor and fill Dominick in on all of this, will you? He needs to know, and he might have some good thoughts."

"Of course," Sabela smiled gently. "Just call me when you wake up tomorrow, and Dominick and I can come over to put together a plan."

Neither one of us wanted to think about how, or when, we would tell our father.

# CHAPTER 11

I went home and crashed, grateful the next day was Saturday. I was completely dead to the world until somewhere around eleven o'clock that morning. It was the best night's sleep I'd had in ages—unloading on Sabela always made me rest easier. Once I'd pulled myself together enough to be presentable, I gave Sabela a call. She and Dominick came over with lunch (or in my case, breakfast).

Dominick was just as puzzled as we had been, and unfortunately all three of us felt completely blank as to a unifying explanation for everything. Even if we were to assume that Onontian space travel had become the norm, what were the odds that an Onontian man would be here in Albuquerque? Either New Mexico really did harbor an unusually high concentration of aliens, or something was way too coincidental.

We came to the decision that we would have to gain access to Eric's records from the medical school. At least there was a chance they would contain some useful information about his background or place of residence.

Granted, if someone checked my records, very little of it would actually be truthful. My last name, for starters, is merely the latest in a series of aliases my family has assumed. From my most recent trip through college until now, I have been Palta Mason. We haven't actually publicly used our true name—Capal—since arriving on Earth. My father just didn't think it wise—not because humans would have recognized it—rather because for some time, he feared that his ship may have been followed from Onontí by enemy forces. He had no real grounds for this concern...My father just isn't one to take any chances. Apparently, he was a high-ranking official on his home planet, and many of the wrong people would recognize his name.

I'm fairly certain he no longer fears such a threat, having been out of contact with Onontí for over a century. Our rotation of names has been more of a necessity for practical living on Earth. It would be difficult to explain a lifespan well beyond one hundred years, particularly with our remarkably youthful appearance.

Beyond the initial plan to access Eric's records, we really made very little progress for the weekend—partly because Sabela was optimistic that Eric would decide to return to work and seek me out. I believe my reaction to that theory involved the possibility of primates flying out of my backside. Somehow she managed to persuade Dominick to buy into this ridiculous nonsense too, so I backed off and agreed to wait until Monday to see if Eric turned up. Even on the impossible chance that he did, I didn't know if I would be capable of having a coherent conversation with him.

Come Monday morning, I tried to prepare myself for a workday as routine as any other. I did make sure to arrive early enough to once again swing by the microbiology lab. The mess had been effectively managed, and it appeared everyone was back to their usual activities. Everyone but Eric, who was once again conspicuously absent. I decided to have patience and give it until the afternoon. But yet again, his station in the lab seemed untouched. I put in a call to Sabela that it was time to get going on plan B.

Dominick demonstrated impressive skill in hacking into the medical school records system. By the time I arrived home that evening, he had printed off the contents of Eric's entire file. "According to this," Dominick summarized, "he's originally from California. He got his undergraduate degree in biology from UCLA, then stayed there for grad school. He did a microbiology internship at Stanford before applying here, apparently at the recommendation of a UNM alumnus he met during his internship. He lists his parents as deceased. His current address is an apartment not far from the medical center. I'm thinking I'll drive by and check it out tomorrow...He wouldn't recognize me if I knocked on the door and pretended to have the wrong apartment. I'm pretty sure I would recognize him from your description, though."

I thanked Dominick for his willingness to undertake criminal and potentially dangerous activities for the sake of the rest of us, and I took the papers home with me to inspect more carefully. I showered quickly and then sat on the bed, perusing the pages spread out in front of me. The application responses were very eloquently written, and for a moment I could hear Eric's voice speaking the words. But in general I had the impression this was very similar to my own medical school application—a smattering of partially genuine statements amid a sea of carefully constructed fabrications. I had little doubt that his address was equally bogus. My skepticism was supported by the endless unanswered ringing when I tried the listed phone number. Don't ask me what I would have done if he had actually picked up the line.

Just as expected, Dominick called the following day to report that the apartment in question was completely abandoned. When there had been no answer at the door, Dominick went to the main office to check. He claimed he was looking up an old friend with that address. The former resident was a man by some other name. Dominick slyly fished out a physical description from the manager, and it clearly did not match Eric.

An attempt to tap into records from UCLA and Stanford revealed equally useless information. So, our trail was dead before we'd even started. I tried to resign myself to the reality that Eric Moran—whatever his real name might be—had disappeared forever.

# CHAPTER 12

With each passing day, it grew a little easier to get back to life as before. Initially, it was all I could manage to go to work and come back home. I wasn't depressed—just so preoccupied that nothing else held my interest.

There had been no further clues as to Eric's whereabouts. Had Sabela ever actually come into contact with him, she probably would have been able to use her senses to track him down. But it was near impossible for her to locate a person she'd never actually seen. Finding physical objects or geographic locations was fairly straightforward, but with people it wasn't so simple...She had to have some familiarity with the individual.

As the days wore on, I gradually reverted back to my usual set of distractions from the monotony of life. I danced, expanded my collection of music CDs, reread some of my favorite books. I even signed up to teach a ballet class at UNM. Sabela tried to occupy my mind by getting me out of the house for all variety of activities. We went rock climbing, shopped, and attended several productions from the summer musical series.

It was on one such attempt to distract me from my thoughts that she suggested we attend an evening lecture Dominick was giving at UNM. Astrophysics never enticed me quite as much as it did Sabela—but apparently the lecture would be well-attended, and I knew Dominick could use the moral support.

Despite our early arrival, the sizable lecture hall was already beginning to fill up. Evidently astrophysics is more popular than I gave it credit for. Either that, or attendance was mandatory. Judging from the number of unenthusiastic-appearing students present, I guessed it was the latter. We took our seats near the back of the room, with a good view down to the podium.

Sabela's face was calm, but I could see her fingers subtly fidgeting as she looked down at her husband. Dominick was similarly fidgeting with the laser pointer in his hand, a little less adept at concealing his anxiety. The bustling hall quieted down as the lights lowered. An older gentleman (at least, old in comparison to Dominick) gave a brief introduction, and it was Dominick's turn to take the podium.

It took a few seconds for his jitters to settle down, but then Dominick became absorbed in the lecture content and took on a surprisingly calm and confident demeanor. I must admit, the presentation was actually interesting enough to hold my attention. I did sneak a few looks over to Sabela, who was beaming with delight at her true love. Judging from some of the questions and comments from the audience at the lecture's conclusion, Sabela and I were not alone in our approval. Eventually the professor who had led off the session stood up to wrap up the Q & A. He suggested that anyone with further questions could come down to the podium to speak with Dominick directly.

Sabela and I kept our seats, planning to wait for Dominick and then take him out to dinner afterward. We watched as a small cluster of people formed around Dominick to address their additional questions. He legitimately seemed to be enjoying the interest in the subject matter, temporarily overcoming his aversion to the spotlight.

As the rest of the crowd continued filing toward the door, I suddenly caught sight of a woman standing to Dominick's left. I would recognize that shiny, dark hair and porcelain skin anywhere. I seized hold of Sabela's forearm and gasped. She started with surprise, then turned to face me, her eyes questioning. I leaned in and half-whispered, unable to slow the speed of my words, "It's her...We have to get down there!"

"Where?" she whispered in return, instantly grasping the meaning of "her". Eyes darting around the group at the front of the hall, Sabela caught sight of her. "The one to Dom's left?" she guessed.

"Exactly," I confirmed. "Come on!"

I jumped from my seat, my hand still gripping Sabela's forearm. Impatiently fighting my way against the current of people still heading for the exit, I practically dragged poor Sabela down the long flight of stairs. We arrived at the base of the steps just as Dominick's group was beginning to break up. Strangely, the one person who lingered behind to keep talking to Dominick was the woman in question.

I stumbled forward, Sabela at my side, and attempted to nonchalantly interject into the conversation. "Hey Dominick, that was a great presentation. You actually managed to keep my attention," I winked with a smile.

"Wow...That's quite an accomplishment!" He chuckled, giving me a quick hug. I skirted aside as he reached his arm around Sabela.

"Sabela, Palta...This is Emma," Dominick said as he gestured to indicate the outrageous beauty before us, even more impressive on closer examination. "She's been interning with one of my colleagues at the VLA for the past few weeks."

Leave it to Dominick to fail to notice that supermodels don't sign up for astronomy internships on a daily basis. Emma smiled with charming grace as she offered her hand to shake mine, then Sabela's.

My mind was spinning with questions...

Were she and Eric still together?

Did she know his true identity?

Had he told her anything about me—or the events of that ill-fated night?

Did she know where he was now?...

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Emma," Sabela smiled with easy grace. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your last name?"

"It's Moran," Emma said courteously. "Emma Moran."

My legs threatened to give way beneath me as I processed the meaning of her reply. Of course they were still together.

She wasn't just his girlfriend...She was his wife.

I stood in silent dismay, glancing out the corner of my eye toward Dominick, who was quickly recovering from a puzzled expression. Evidently he had no prior knowledge of her last name.

Sabela alone kept her composure. "Moran," she repeated. "That's such a familiar name...Have we met before?"

"Not that I'm aware of," Emma replied politely. "I'm sure I would remember such lovely faces," she added with an endearing smile. Great, now she was complimenting me. Though she had been nothing but warm and friendly, I didn't want any reason to like her.

Surprisingly quick to recover his bearings, Dominick rejoined the discussion. "My wife Sabela is also an astrophysicist...We met doing research at the VLA. Her sister, Palta, is a physician specializing in infectious disease. She teaches at the UNM medical school."

"Really? How interesting." Emma looked slightly flustered. She quickly regained her pleasant demeanor as she turned back to Sabela. "What type of research were you doing?"

Sabela began to answer her question, speaking in acronyms and other terminology I only vaguely understood. Emma seemed genuinely interested, and proceeded to ask about the details of the happy couple's meeting. It appeared on the surface she was fully attentive to Sabela and Dominick's recounting of the early years of their romance, but every few seconds I noticed her eyes darting momentarily in my direction.

The lecture hall eventually emptied, leaving the four of us alone next to the podium. As the conversation continued without any input from me, I found my mind wandering back to the fateful evening when I last saw Eric. I wondered if Emma knew of my role in the debacle.

Even as my attention was drawn toward that evening, I had the peculiar feeling my memory was growing fuzzy. I struggled to remember the exact appearance of the pile of debris on the floor, the sound of the alarm blaring overhead, even the feeling of Eric's skin as I traced my fingers along his neck to check for a pulse. My most precious remembrance—the sound of his heartbeat pounding in my ear as I awoke on his chest—was slowly drifting from my conscious mind.

I struggled in vain to hold on to the memories...They were slipping away like sand through a sieve. I looked up to see Emma's eyes focused entirely on me, as Dominick and Sabela chattered in the background.

"Stop that." I glared authoritatively in Emma's direction, my voice echoing through the empty room.

Sabela and Dominick both turned toward me in stunned silence. I stood motionless, arms crossed in front of me, staring Emma down as her eyebrows raised with alarm.

"Pardon me?" she asked awkwardly. "I don't know what you mean." Somehow her eyes indicated otherwise.

"If you want to borrow my thoughts, you'll have to ask permission first." I said snidely. "Somehow I don't think you were planning on putting them back where you found them."

Sabela gasped, then instinctively took hold of my hand. She reached out with her opposite hand to grasp Dominick's shirt sleeve, and shifted her weight backward as if prepared to break into a run at any second.

Emma dropped all pretense of surprise. "What happened that night? Did you see who attacked him?" She was suddenly interrogating me.

I suppose I should have been relieved that she had at least gathered I wasn't the one responsible for assaulting Eric. Instead, I was just plain pissed off.

"Didn't you get a good enough look at my mind the first time? If I knew the answer to that question, you would have already helped yourself to it," I snapped.

"I'm sorry for my intrusiveness," Emma gave the appearance of legitimate remorse—an act I didn't buy for a second. "I was just trying to make out if you were friend or foe."

"If by 'foe' you mean a brutal killer, then I suppose I'd fall into the 'friend' category," I replied cynically. "Although in your case, we may have to find a secret option number three."

"Palta, please," Emma held up her hands appealing for a truce. "I made a mistake that set us off on the wrong foot...Please accept my sincere apology." Her eyes turned pleading as she continued cautiously, "I was desperately searching for a way to protect my brother's life."

One word stood out above all the others.

"He's your brother?" My voice trailed off as I paused to reflect on the notion.

"You didn't know that?" she asked incredulously.

"No, how on Earth would I?" I came back, my sarcasm regaining steam.

Emma paused in contemplation for a moment, no doubt debating whether to attempt another probe of my mind to validate my claim. Wisely, she decided not to push her limits. She glanced around slowly at the three of us. Sabela stood unwavering, still gripping my hand and Dominick's arm. An equally frozen Dominick stared uneasily back at Emma. She took a little breath in and exhaled slowly, then directed her attention back toward me, choosing her words carefully. "How long have you been here?" she asked tentatively.

"By 'here', do you mean Albuquerque?" I asked doubtingly.

"I think you know what I mean," she prodded. I paused, debating whether to give her a straight answer.

Sabela's voice suddenly emerged to fill the void. "One hundred and twenty-five Earth years," she said very evenly. "I traveled here as a girl with my parents. Palta was born eight years later."

Emma's entire body language shifted abruptly. "I knew it!" she exclaimed. A look of wide-eyed excitement lit up her face as she raised her fingers up to cover her gaping mouth.

"You're Kencane Capal's children!...You have no idea how long we have been searching for your father."

# CHAPTER 13

We all paused for a moment to wrap our heads around this bizarre realization—Emma and Eric had been searching for us, just as we had been searching for Eric. Once again, it was Sabela who found her bearings first. "How long have you been here, Emma?" she began.

"Just over three Earth years," came the reply. "But I'm sure you've realized that my name isn't Emma."

The thought had occurred to me well before tonight. With my discovery that Eric was Onontian, I knew his name was surely nothing more than a pseudonym. I'd never bothered to consider what his true name might be—having never known any Onontians outside my own family, it was highly unlikely it would be familiar to me.

As I considered this thought, Emma continued. "My name is Ewenami Omuran. My twin brother—my only sibling—is Aeron. Our father was Kenami Omuran."

Sabela and I both froze in stunned amazement. "Omuran" was one of only three Onontian family names I would recognize vividly. The first was my own, "Capal". The second, "Teemo", was my mother's maiden name.

But the name "Omuran" held no connection with my own genetic line—it was the name of the ruling family of Onontí.

"You are the children of Mintar Omuran?" Sabela spoke again, reverence plainly evident in her voice. "Mintar" was the Onontian equivalent of "King".

I'm sure at this point Dominick was completely clueless—but he seemed to gather from Sabela's reaction that these names held tremendous significance.

"Forgive me, Your Grace," Sabela continued respectfully, "but I noticed you referred to your father in the past tense."

Dominick's eyebrows raised momentarily at the part about "Your Grace", then a look of understanding crossed his face.

"There is absolutely no need to address me with such formality," Ewenami replied with a genuinely warm smile. Her smile faded as she continued, "But yes, you are correct. My parents were both killed just before Aeron and I were forced to flee Onontí in the rebellion."

"But the rebellion started well over a hundred years ago," I interjected, inadvertently neglecting to offer any sympathy for her loss. "You said you had only arrived here three years ago. The war couldn't possibly still be going on, could it?"

"There was no war the first time," Ewenami explained. "That was before my time...But according to historical accounts, Bito Obo was a deceptively alluring revolutionary, who amassed an impressive following in a very short period of time. My family was caught off guard after such a lengthy period of relative peace. Fortunately, they managed nonetheless to mount a sufficient response and contain the uprising. By the time Bito Obo had been captured and peace restored, your father had already broken off contact from Earth. He was presumed dead—although my brother has suspected otherwise."

"You said there wasn't a war 'the first time'," I reminded her. "That implies there has been a second uprising?"

"In retrospect, my father clearly should have put Bito Obo to death," Ewenami continued. "But he wasn't a vengeful man, and he worried that the people would see it as an act of tyranny. So he imprisoned Obo under tight guard instead." Ewenami's face told of her regret for her father's reluctance to harm this vile man. "It appears Obo had quite a few followers still under his control. He was just biding his time for the right opportunity."

We listened with bated breath to the continuation of the story, as it picked up where our last knowledge of Onontí dropped off. "My brother and I were born seventy-eight Earth years ago, into a world that was once again distinguished by peace. We led a charmed royal life, with a father and mother who loved us beyond measure. Our reality changed dramatically in a single moment...the moment our parents were murdered at the hands of Bito Obo's followers. The civil war our father had once prevented was suddenly upon us, and we were left without his guidance to confront it."

"I am so sorry," I responded, this time able to express my heartfelt compassion for her tragedy. "What a terrible loss you suffered...How could you possibly pick up and lead your people at a time of such devastation?"

"I was relatively sheltered from that burden," Ewenami replied solemnly. "At least in comparison to my brother. The rule of Onontí—at least those who remained loyal to our family—fell to Aeron's hands. In a way, he had dreaded the role all of his life. But when the time came, he was ready and willing to meet the challenge."

"Forgive me for asking, but...If the war is still going on," Sabela began delicately, "How did the two of you end up here?" I was a bit surprised at her frankness in asking the question—I knew her intention was not to imply that they had abandoned their people. But one couldn't help but wonder why they would be light-years away at such a time.

"We felt we had no choice at the time," Ewenami explained. "Evidently, Bito Obo had multiple followers who had managed to infiltrate our administration over a period of many years—some of them in positions very close to our father. There had been no reason to suspect such a deception until the attack on our parents. Some of the traitors were uncovered, but they refused to name their compatriots. It was extremely difficult to guarantee our safety, because virtually everyone was a potential suspect. There were multiple attempts on our lives, and one of them was nearly successful. At the urging of our most trusted advisor, we resorted to the only place of refuge we could find...Earth."

"And they followed you here?" I asked warily.

"Not immediately," she replied. "They didn't have the technology. No one did...except Aeron."

"Why wouldn't anyone else have a ship?" I asked. It didn't seem possible a whole planet possessed only one space ship, having developed the capability over a century before.

She responded, "Your father had disappeared—having declared our nearest planet to be technologically and intellectually inferior—and the conflict was resolved. Interstellar travel was deemed an unnecessary and undesirable risk. All efforts toward building another ship were abandoned. It remained that way until Aeron and I were well into adulthood."

"What prompted the change of plans?" I inquired.

"Aeron," she replied. "He somehow came across Kencane's story and persuaded our father to allow him to begin construction of a second ship. It had been completed for several years, but our father was adamant it must not be used except in dire emergency. Little did we know how soon that emergency would come. At the time of our evacuation, we thought it was the only such ship in existence. We arrived on this planet and began searching for your father, knowing he was the only person we could trust on Earth." Her face was somber as she continued, "But about a year ago, we received a communication from our contact on Onontí that an enemy ship was on its way. One of their spies had stolen our design drawings, and they had successfully pulled together the resources to construct a duplicate ship."

"How many men did they send?" I cringed as I thought of the possibilities.

"If their ship is an exact duplicate, it is designed to carry up to eight adults," she replied. "It can physically hold many more than that, but it would overextend the life support system on such a long journey."

"Eight?" Sabela gasped in alarm.

"Our intelligence suggests they may not have sent quite that many," Ewenami replied, her voice bleak. "We suspect they fanned out over the globe in an effort to track us down as quickly as possible. We took precautions to avoid detection, but apparently they have remarkable skills of pursuit. Our first confirmation that we had been located came when Aeron was attacked that night at the medical center. An attack it appears he wouldn't have survived without your help, Palta...I cannot begin to express how grateful I am to you. How grateful Aeron will be when he hears of your efforts to pull him back from death's door." Her eyes were intensely sincere with admiration.

"And his attacker is still here in Albuquerque?" Dominick chimed in.

"We're not certain." She turned to address Dominick. "We are hopeful he has assumed he succeeded in ending Aeron's life."

"If you knew you had been tracked down," I probed, "why didn't you leave Albuquerque?" It made no sense to stay here when their lives were in danger.

"We had two important reasons," she responded. "We had strong reasons to believe your father was somewhere in the area, and Aeron's work at the medical center wasn't just pretense...It is vitally important for all of us."

"Why?" I asked, "What is his work? And why is finding our father more important than your own safety?"

"If you don't mind, I think I had best let Aeron explain," she replied. "Besides, I am very eager to tell him about this encounter."

We walked together out to the parking lot. I was suddenly intensely aware of our surroundings, checking over my shoulder repeatedly for any unwelcome followers. Having worked out a plan for Ewenami to bring Aeron out to our ranch as soon as possible, we watched her drive away.

I feared for her safety—and Aeron's as well—but she insisted on making the journey alone. She wanted to give us an opportunity to break the news to our father gently.

# CHAPTER 14

The drive home seemed to take far less time than it ever had, as we scrambled to think of the best way to bring our father up to date on the situation. It wouldn't help that it was already well past his usual bedtime. Father was as mentally sharp as he had ever been, but physically he was aging more rapidly with each passing year. Combine that with an emotional fatigue (so to speak) brought on by many years of being solely responsible for the protection of the only family he had in this world—and his sleep was critically important. But we had no time to waste. We resolved to wake him with a phone call first. Somehow barging into his house and startling him awake just didn't seem wise.

Sabela stepped up to the plate and pulled out her phone. She dialed, then paused and listened for a good while, waiting for Father to pick up at the other end. Finally she spoke gently, "Father...it's Sabela. Yes, I'm fine...Yes, she's here with me. We haven't had an accident, nobody is hurt...But there is something very important we need to discuss with you tonight. Can we come over?" Our father obviously responded in the affirmative, and Sabela assured him, "We'll be there in just a few minutes. Yes, I promise we're okay. Don't be distressed, we'll explain everything when we get there." She hung up the phone and closed her eyes, already regretting we had to get him involved in this.

Despite our swift arrival at his house, our elderly father had somehow already managed to dress himself and make his way downstairs to meet us anxiously at the door. Sabela, Dominick, and I filed through the doorway, each stopping to give Father a quick hug and greeting.

We gathered around the kitchen table, taking care to make sure Father was settled in his chair before Sabela began. "Father, we have recently become aware of some important information regarding Onontí." She kept her voice calm and even. "It is of a time-sensitive nature."

"Proceed." Father was always succinct and to the point during a serious conversation. His face was surprisingly impassive.

"Onontí has recently fallen into a state of global war—the war you feared when you brought our family here," Sabela continued. "We are told that peace was restored shortly after our arrival here. That peace was maintained throughout the intervening years...until recently."

"How recently?" Father probed, still emotionless.

"Approximately three and a half Earth years ago," Sabela responded. "Apparently Bito Obo had managed to keep in contact with his supporters from prison, and it was then that they mounted another rebellion."

"How did Kenami respond?" came my father's question. I didn't recognize this name at first...but Sabela seemed to. "He didn't have time to respond," she replied. "The first sign of the rebellion's reawakening was his murder...along with his wife." Sabela's voice trailed off mournfully.

Now I recalled—Kenami Omuran was Aeron's father. I didn't realize my own father was on a first name basis with the king. Judging from the look on his face—the first sign of emotion since the conversation began—my father knew him better than your average loyal subject.

It took but a moment for Father to regain his poker face. "Who succeeded Kenami?" he asked Sabela. It occurred to me that as of my father's last knowledge, Aeron and Ewenami had not yet been born.

"His son, Aeron," Sabela explained. "He and a twin sister, Ewenami, evaded the enemy...barely."

"How have you acquired this knowledge?" Father asked calmly.

"From the daughter, Ewenami...We have just spoken with her this evening." Sabela considered her next statement carefully. "She and her brother are here on Earth...Here in New Mexico."

My father maintained his impressive showing of stoicism. The pattern continued as he would ask a specific question, my sister responding in turn. She related the history as detailed by Ewenami earlier in the evening—including the disturbing piece of information that enemy forces were now among us, exact numbers and whereabouts unknown.

Father kept up his calm demeanor flawlessly—right up until the moment Sabela mentioned my involvement in Aeron's rescue. Suddenly his eyes flashed toward me, as he struggled to conceal the look of terror building in them. "There was an Onontian assassin at your workplace?" He addressed me for the first time, his voice trembling almost imperceptibly.

"I never saw him." I tried to sound reassuring. "By the time I arrived, he had already fled the scene."

Not surprisingly, this didn't seem to bring him much relief. Not giving him time to dwell on his fears, Sabela picked up the conversation again. "It was by chance encounter that we came across Ewenami this evening. She and Aeron have remained here in the area. They are seeking you specifically, although she didn't explain why. They are on their way here tonight."

By the conclusion of her statement, Father's expression was once again eerily tranquil. "Then we will welcome them when they arrive," he said plainly.

"How can you be so calm?" I blurted out, almost annoyed with his apparent lack of concern.

"I am anything but calm, my darling," he responded softly. "I have dreaded this moment since the day you were born."

At that moment, I saw in his eyes the immeasurable love only a parent could feel. I understood immediately that my father had but one fear in this world...that his children would come to harm. He sighed deeply, then added, "I have known from the beginning that this day would eventually come. Yet somehow I held out hope that it never would. I suppose I am grateful, in a way, that at least I am still alive to offer you whatever protection I can."

We sat in silence as the minutes dragged on. Finally, there was a soft knock at the door.

# CHAPTER 15

My father rose from his seat first, somehow standing taller than he has in years. He proceeded ceremoniously toward the door, the rest of us following steadily behind. He slowly opened the door to reveal Aeron and Ewenami standing silently on the front porch.

"Welcome, Mintar Omuran." Father bowed his head forward slightly, then lifted his eyes to meet Aeron's. "It is an honor to receive you in our home."

"The honor is mine," Aeron replied sincerely. "I only wish it were under better circumstances." He smiled thoughtfully as he extended his arm forward to shake Father's hand. He gestured subsequently to Ewenami beside him as he spoke again to my father, "May I introduce my sister, Ewenami." My father smiled graciously as he proceeded to shake her hand as well. They all seemed legitimately at ease with the informality.

Father held open the door, stretching his opposite arm out as he indicated the way to the living area. Aeron stepped aside to let Ewenami pass through the doorway ahead of him, then followed behind her as we all made our way to the living room.

Ewenami spoke next, "Aeron, allow me to introduce Dominick and Sabela Holloway," as she gestured politely toward each of them. Aeron reached out to shake hands with each of them as well, with no trace of surprise that Dominick was clearly human. Evidently Ewenami had already briefed him.

Ewenami looked toward me with a warm smile as she continued, "And you already know Kencane's younger daughter, Palta." I smiled awkwardly as Aeron turned to face me—but I didn't move from my position, already halfway across the room.

I found myself holding my breath as he nodded slightly in my direction, his eyes fixed on mine. His eyes were kind, almost apologetic, as he held my gaze—but he didn't return my smile. I stood transfixed, my own smile fading as a feeling of uncertainty came over me. I couldn't read in his expression whether he was pleased to see me or not.

My father's voice broke the silence as he stepped forward to address Aeron. "Mintar, please have a seat and make yourself comfortable." He indicated an armchair nearby, the place of honor usually reserved for Father himself.

"Please, Kencane, call me Aeron." He turned his attention back toward my father. "If you are willing, I wish to continue the friendship you knew with my father." His words were entirely sincere.

My father smiled genuinely. "It would be a pleasure," he nodded in assent.

"I do not wish to offend," Aeron continued gently, as he turned back to face the rest of us, "but I would like an opportunity to speak with Kencane alone." It occurred to me that the typical ruler of an entire planet probably wouldn't concern himself with offending pretty much anyone. We all indicated in one way or another that no offense would be taken, and Aeron nodded in appreciation before turning again toward my father.

"Please, follow me." Father gestured as he led the way to his private library. As the door closed behind them, Sabela turned toward Ewenami, offering her something to drink. I motioned for Ewenami to take the empty armchair, as Dominick sat down on the loveseat across from her. I settled into the large sofa just as Sabela returned from the kitchen with a tray of drinks. After distributing them to the group, she took her place on the sofa next to me.

"I was thinking," Sabela addressed Ewenami, "how much better we would all feel if you and your brother had better protection here on Earth."

Ewenami smiled, then shrugged slightly. "I won't argue with that," she replied. "But forgive me...I'm not quite sure what you have in mind?"

"Only perhaps a slight relocation," Sabela hinted. "Dominick and I have plenty of extra space in our house," she continued. "I know we have no military skill, but our family has over a century of experience in avoiding exposure. Absolutely no one, save ourselves, has set foot on this ranch in decades."

"She's right," added Dominick. "We would certainly have an easier job of watching for suspicious activity here than in the middle of the city."

"It is a very generous offer." Ewenami was clearly grateful for their kindness. "But we can't let you put yourselves in danger that way."

"Our safety is of little consequence," I interjected, "when you consider an entire planet is dependent upon you for leadership. What would become of Onontí if the two of you were killed?" I spoke the words, but I didn't want to consider the potential reality.

"Unfortunately, Onontí might not be the only planet affected." Ewenami's voice trailed off as her face grew solemn.

"What do you mean?" I questioned.

But she brushed it aside. "Nothing in particular...I'll let Aeron explain it all later." She took a sip of her drink and sat staring at the glass in her hands for a moment. Looking back up toward Sabela, she smiled softly. "Are you sure you wouldn't mind?" Her gaze turned toward Dominick, asking for his approval as well.

"Consider it done," smiled Sabela. "We can help you move your things tomorrow night."

Ewenami smiled broadly, an expression of hopefulness on her face. "We don't have much," she responded. "We can leave most of it behind. No need to draw any more attention to ourselves than necessary."

We proceeded to work out the details of the move for the next few minutes. Ewenami seemed confident Aeron would agree to the plan. "He'll try to put up an objection," she said with an amused smile, "but he never holds out for long once I've set my mind on something." The glint in her eye conveyed the tender affection she felt for her brother. I gathered they share the same closeness that Sabela and I have.

The arrangements complete for a covert relocation the following night, we transitioned into more casual chitchat. At one lull in the conversation, a thought dawned on me. "Forgive me, Ewenami," I began politely, "but it just occurred to me that you and Aeron both speak impressively fluent English for having been here only a few years. You seem to have had no difficulty at all learning the dialect." I suppose a part of me had forgotten that they weren't in fact American—or even human, for that matter. Suddenly their flawless grammar and lack of any appreciable accents seemed extraordinary.

"Aeron and I share an interest in languages," Ewenami smiled meekly, "although his skill puts mine to shame." She chuckled slightly as she elaborated, "It takes him about three days to assimilate an entire language."

"Wow...I'm duly impressed." I raised my eyebrows.

"His skills were growing a little rusty from disuse lately, having mastered every Onontian dialect by the time he was a toddler," she responded. "He moved on to constructing elaborate new languages when he was an adolescent. He would teach me, and we could plot all kinds of mischief right under our parents' noses. It was like our own secret code." She smiled to herself at the remembrance. "It has actually paid off in a way we would never have anticipated...We use one of his codes to communicate with our contact on Onontí." Though she continued to smile, her eyes became more pensive.

My sister spoke next, and Ewenami broke out of her reverie to pay attention. "Speaking of your contact on Onontí...If you don't mind my asking, how are you certain he or she is loyal?"

"He," Ewenami spoke softly, confirming the person in question was male. She paused for a moment, contemplating how to respond. Her eyes focused on her hands as they fidgeted with the glass she was still holding. The rest of us waited patiently as she took a breath in and prepared to speak again. "Our contact is a man named Imai Odele, who served as my father's chief of security for many years before his death. It was the most devastating event of Imai's life when my parents were killed. There were some who blamed him for the assassination—or at least accused him of negligence—but Aeron and I have never doubted his unfailing loyalty." Her despondent expression struck me as unusually intense in the context of discussing a man who had merely served as an officer under her father's command. I decided it must be the memory of her parents' assassination and the ensuing turmoil that weighed so heavily on her mind.

Sabela attempted to ease the angst with lighthearted small talk, and eventually Ewenami regained her effortlessly gracious smile. Just as we seemed to have exhausted all the insignificant chitchat we could muster, the door to the library opened. My father emerged, followed by Aeron, and they continued to speak to one another in subdued voices as they strolled slowly toward us.

"I must apologize, everyone..." My father lifted his voice to address us all with a polite smile. "But I'm afraid I am a very old man who desperately needs some sleep." His exhausted eyes substantiated his claim, and we all stood to assure him that he was indeed encouraged to return to bed. Sabela and I kissed him goodnight, and he trudged slowly up the stairs.

The rest of us convened in the foyer, speaking in quiet voices so as not to disturb him. Despite the late hour, none of us felt ready to call it a night. We were eager to have Aeron's input into our conversation. Ewenami had implied several times that there would be more to the story—details she was reserving for Aeron's telling. Sabela suggested that we move the discussion to her house in order to give our father total peace and quiet. We were all in agreement, and we filed out to our cars to make our way there.

# CHAPTER 16

Ordinarily, driving from Father's house to Sabela's would be pointless. Our three houses formed a large triangle, approximately one hundred yards to each side, connected by a meandering gravel drive. It was hardly worth the trouble to get in the car, especially during the day. But since it was now the middle of the night—and Aeron and Ewenami were not familiar with our property—it made more sense to drive.

I rode the short distance with Dominick and Sabela, having left my car at home when we went to see Dominick's lecture earlier in the evening. It seemed like days had passed since then.

Aeron and Ewenami followed behind. Ewenami's prediction had been correct—it took only the miniscule amount of drive time for her to persuade Aeron to follow through with the plans to move in with our family. As we entered the house, Aeron expressed his gratitude to Sabela and Dominick for their generosity. Sabela, of course, dismissed it as the least they could do.

We each took a seat around the dining room table. There were more than enough chairs for the five of us, and I noticed that Aeron seemed to intentionally avoid the head of the table. Try as he might, he could not avoid the fact that all eyes were upon him. The rest of us had already talked ourselves out, and it was his words alone that we wanted to hear.

When we had all settled into our seats, he addressed the group softly, "Once again, I would like to apologize for excluding you from my conversation with Kencane. It was important that I have an opportunity to gain his trust, and I felt that was best accomplished alone."

Once again, his humble demeanor contradicted his powerful position. It seemed odd he was so concerned with my father's approval. "I appreciate that Ewenami has already explained how she and I came to be here in your midst," he continued, "and I am deeply sorry for the danger it has brought upon you all." His eyes flitted momentarily in my direction. "As we are all now caught in the collision of two worlds, I feel it is important that you understand the extent of the entanglement..."

We sat silently as he began the briefing, his expression solemn. "As you are aware, Bito Obo's spies have infiltrated our government. It is via this espionage that he was able to acquire the design drawings which allowed him to construct his own ship. Fortunately, we have spies as well, many of them with centuries of experience. We had made the critical mistake once before of turning our attention away from Bito Obo—a mistake we have no intention of repeating. Through our own secret intelligence, we have become aware that Obo's purpose in building a ship was twofold. The first, obviously, was to obliterate the remaining members of our family." His eyes protectively glanced toward his sister as he paused momentarily. "The second..." he hesitated, reluctant to speak the words, "was to obliterate Earth."

Sabela gasped faintly as she reached out to grasp Dominick's hand. I caught myself swallowing audibly as my eyes widened. Aeron paused to give us a moment to digest this disturbing information. I knew instinctively from the look in his eyes that he had no immediate solution to this dilemma.

Sensing we had gathered ourselves enough to continue, he resumed the account. "Obo is confident he will succeed this time in overthrowing our government and assuming control of Onontí. This is, of course, an unacceptable outcome—not because we are bent on absolute power, but because he is the worst kind of ruthless dictator. He uses his powers to detestable advantage, twisting people's minds to coerce them into following his will."

It appeared Bito Obo shared a similar gift with my father...Only he lacked the morality to resist its misuse.

"We cannot, under any circumstances, allow him to succeed," Aeron continued, quiet determination in his voice. "However..." he paused, taking a breath in as he looked directly at me. Exhaling sharply, he completed his thought. "His defeat may prove equally unacceptable. That is to say...He cannot be allowed to resort to his fallback plan."

"Which is?..." I prompted, looking him in the eye, scarcely aware we weren't having a private conversation.

"To occupy Earth, having annihilated its inhabitants." He held my gaze as he elaborated, "All without expending any of his troops...or getting his hands dirty."

"How?" Sabela's voice was barely more than a whisper.

Aeron held his eyes on mine for a second longer before he turned to answer her. "Surprisingly simply." His expression was forlorn. "He knows that humans are more fragile than we are, and he will capitalize on that fact by introducing a biological agent into Earth's atmosphere."

Sabela impulsively turned to look at Dominick beside her, gripping his hand more tightly.

Aeron refocused his eyes on mine as he proceeded to explain. "His ship is equipped with a biological weapon, which will distribute a virus throughout the globe. It is a strain of an Onontian respiratory virus, which in some cases can be deadly to us." A look of genuine sadness filled his eyes as he clarified, "Humans will be universally exterminated."

In an uncharacteristically rattled moment, Sabela whimpered softly, then promptly recovered herself with a deep breath of air.

I spoke out resolutely, "But you are working on an antidote...some sort of antiviral?" It was more of a statement than a question. I had no lingering doubts it was the purpose of his research at the medical school.

"Yes...at least I was," he responded softly. Once again we were having a one-on-one conversation. "I was able to salvage what I had thus far the morning after I was attacked, and I've almost managed to find an effective antiviral. The problem is that time is running short, and I have no idea how to go about manufacturing enough of it...or distributing it globally." His forehead creased as he was pulled back into a quandary that had clearly bewildered him for weeks. "Our only chance is to deliver it directly into the weapon, before it has a chance to go airborne—a task which would be difficult enough, without first having to track down a hidden enemy ship. We have no idea where to even begin looking." His voice trailed off as a look of utter defeat crossed his face.

"I think I can help with that..." Sabela was back in the conversation, having steeled her resolve. "I will just need more information about the ship itself. Father can give me those details in the morning, while Palta helps you finish out the work on your antiviral agent." Suddenly she was in full-on maternal mode, giving out orders we didn't dare object to.

King or not, Aeron knew when he had best just agree. "Thank you, Sabela...Perhaps we have reason to hope after all." He smiled with the best optimism he could manage.

Somewhere in the course of the conversation, it occurred to me that I felt completely at ease in his presence. Though I still found him overwhelmingly attractive, it no longer kept me from making eye contact. Yes, he was royalty—but I had never been one to be particularly impressed by power or exclusive titles. Somehow he was just Aeron. And despite the threat of global annihilation, I felt safe in his presence.

Ewenami had remained silent, giving the rest of us a chance to hear the full explanation for the first time. She finally spoke, addressing Dominick, "While everyone else is occupied, I was hoping you might help me with a fallback plan of our own..." Dominick turned to look at her, a bit perplexed. "I didn't take the internship at the VLA for my own personal enjoyment," she elaborated. "I was attempting to locate the nearest habitable planet, aside from Onontí, just in case our people have nowhere to go. It is unlikely we would have time to construct the necessary ships to evacuate anywhere near everyone, but it gives me some comfort to at least try." Her eyes were apologetic, almost ashamed of her farfetched optimism.

Dominick nodded in assent, "It's worth an effort...Let's just hope it doesn't come to that eventuality." He kept hold of Sabela's hand, stroking it gently with his thumb.

Though none of us felt ready for sleep, we agreed it was time to break for the night. We would need our rest for the days ahead.

# CHAPTER 17

As we were finalizing our plans for the following day, Sabela offered to quickly show Ewenami and Aeron the rooms they would be occupying. Since I was without a car, I excused myself to go find the camping lantern I often used to walk home at night.

Upon hearing I would be alone on foot in the darkness, Ewenami insisted Aeron walk me home. He politely agreed. Despite my contention that I had made the journey safely a thousand times before, Sabela chimed in, and I was overruled.

It was not the time alone with him I objected to—more so the feeling he was only doing so under duress. I didn't like being the object of anyone's pity, especially not his. It was humiliating enough to think back to the countless times I'm sure he'd caught me ogling. Now I had to endure the not-so-subtle hinting from both of our sisters that the two of us might enjoy some time to talk.

I gave Sabela a quick parting hug as we headed for the door. Aeron carried the lantern to guide us. Technically, there was sufficient moonlight to muddle our way through—but there were enough snakes and other wildlife out to make the lantern a necessity. We set out across the large desert field separating Sabela's house from mine.

Years of making this trek had created a footpath, winding its way around the yucca and distinctive desert bushes and cacti. I trudged along silently, determined not to disgrace myself any further by chattering like a smitten teenager.

It was Aeron who broke the awkward silence. "I realize, Palta, that you don't particularly want to be alone with me right now," he began tentatively.

I raised my eyebrows slightly in surprise, as I turned my head away from him to collect myself. Great...Just my luck, he shares his sister's unnerving aptitude for mind-reading. I took a moment to contemplate the possibility, then satisfied myself that I was completely alone with my thoughts. I turned slowly back to face him, my tone indifferent. "What makes you think that?"

"On our last meeting, I was inexcusably rude," he replied apologetically. "You had expended immense effort to save my life, and I bolted for the door without so much as a word."

"You were caught off guard," I brushed it aside. "Don't worry about it."

He shook his head soberly, refusing to drop the issue. "You had weakened yourself to restore my strength, and I abandoned you thoughtlessly...I should have fallen on my knees in gratitude."

"It's okay...You thought I was there to kill you." The hint of dry sarcasm in my voice made it clear I thought the idea was ludicrous.

"I wanted to believe that you weren't there to hurt me," he offered uneasily, "but my logical mind thought better of it and told me to run. It wasn't a gamble I could afford to take."

I paused to mull over the events of that night, and the weeks leading up to it. "Even if it had been my express purpose to track you down and kill you...I would have had to be pretty damn good to just happen to be working at the medical center for the past few years, waiting for you to show up."

Now I had gone a wee bit past a hint of sarcasm.

"Give me a break, Palta," he said, his tone suddenly shifting to exasperation. "When you know you're being pursued by ruthless assassins—and awake from unconsciousness to find that the person sitting across from you isn't who she formerly claimed to be—you don't pause to consider all the possibilities...You run like hell."

"Point well taken..." I conceded, tilting my head to the side as I shrugged slightly.

He sighed aloud, regaining a calmer tone of voice. "Even when I did have more time to consider it, I just came to the conclusion that you—or your accomplices—used your powers to somehow predict where I would be."

"And then sat there and watched as you pranced around unharmed for weeks on end?..."

I don't know why I couldn't cut him some slack. He had been nothing but humbly apologetic and sincerely grateful. Somehow it left me feeling embarrassed and annoyed—partly with him for having jumped to the wrong conclusions—but mostly with myself for so desperately wanting his approval.

"I'm sure it was all in my head," he proceeded gingerly, "but there were times when it did feel like you were watching me. It seemed plausible that you were told to observe me—perhaps so I would lead you to my sister—before finishing me off."

For crying out loud, would the humiliation never end?

My jaw clenched as I scolded myself, Why couldn't I keep my damned gawking eyes to myself?

I took a breath in, getting hold of my mortified emotions. "Look, Aeron..." My tone was calm and dignified. "I shouldn't have given you a hard time. I suppose my pride was injured that you mistook my actions that night for malice. I was genuinely relieved that you survived, regardless of how you reacted afterward. Now that I know you a little better, I remain sincerely thankful that I happened to be there that night. You have already made your appreciation clear...I neither want nor expect anything else." My expression was sincere as I urged him to lay the topic to rest.

"Thank you, Palta." He smiled thoughtfully as he met my gaze, his face aglow in the light from the lantern.

We continued silently until we came upon a familiar long, narrow ditch that transected our path. Aeron stepped across first, holding the lantern in his right hand as he reached back with his left to assist me. I knew full well I could easily leap across—I'd done it countless times without a thought. Not wishing to appear obstinate, I placed my hand gently in his as I gracefully stepped across. Once he was certain I had gained a stable footing, he released his hand from mine, shifting the lantern to back to his left side to better light the space between us. I tried to ignore the rampant fluttering of my heart at the thrill of his touch.

Gradually my house came into clearer view, the moonlight reflecting off the wall of windows enclosing the back porch. It was one of my favorite parts of the house. I could sit and enjoy the view of the desert terrain set against the backdrop of the Manzano Mountains, without having to worry about the scorching summer heat. This had been my home for decades—and despite the fact that I lived here alone, I never felt lonely within its walls. It was like the house itself was an old, familiar friend.

It occurred to me that Aeron had no such place here on Earth...He belonged to another world. I ventured to break the silence with my brewing question. "Aeron..." I began tentatively, "If things have become just as dangerous for you and Ewenami here on Earth, why haven't you just returned to Onontí?"

He didn't answer immediately, so I elaborated to complete my thought. "At least there you would have military protection, and I'm sure your direct presence would be preferable to waging war in your absence." My tone was politely inquisitive, taking care to avoid sounding accusatory.

"It's complicated," he sighed. "Without doubt, I would rather be standing my ground alongside my people than cowering on a distant planet while they face the onslaught." He looked down at the ground, ashamed of himself. "If it had only been an issue of my own safety," he continued, "I would have sacrificed my life long ago."

My thoughts flashed to the image of his lifeless body slumped in my arms as I dragged him through the alleyway. I refused to allow myself to speculate what would have happened if I hadn't arrived on the scene just in time.

I forced my thoughts to return to the present conversation, fishing for the reason behind his decision to leave Onontí. "You came here to protect Ewenami?" I suggested, understanding his devotion to his last remaining family member.

"She was certainly part of the equation," he began. "But Ewenami is an extraordinarily strong and determined person, and she never would have agreed to flee for her own sake. She wanted to stay behind, but I knew we would need her powers." He finally looked up to meet my eyes. "It was of critical importance that we locate your father. He is our primary reason for coming here."

"My father?" The surprise and confusion were plainly evident in my voice. "Surely you mean he was the reason for coming to Albuquerque...not to Earth in general?" His expression told me otherwise. "How could finding my father be more important than your own survival?" I was completely dumbfounded.

"I wish I could explain. But for the present, you'll just have to take my word for it...I am under strict confidence to keep you from knowing his role in this yet. I cannot disregard his wishes." It was clear he wouldn't elaborate any further right now.

Only my father would think that a century of life experience wasn't enough to prepare me for facing difficult times. In his mind, I was still the child who must be sheltered from life's unpleasant realities.

I sulked to myself for a moment, perturbed by the fact that Aeron—almost forty years my junior—was privy to this personal information, while I was kept in the dark. It dawned on me that he had the privilege of royal decree. Perhaps my father had no choice but to follow orders. I promptly dismissed that possibility, having seen Aeron's face when he spoke of gaining his friendship and trust. It was clear he greatly respected my father.

"So you have succeeded in locating my father," I carried on with the conversation. "What now?"

"Our original plan was to persuade him to return to Onontí with us," he answered, "but then things got more complicated."

"I gather you are referring to the potential global crisis on our hands," I offered—ignoring for the moment the fact that, all things being equal, there wasn't a chance my father would agree to return to Onontí.

"Yes," he heaved a sigh in response. "The threat of humankind's destruction certainly wasn't what we needed."

With that, we had arrived at the door to my back porch. As I stepped through the doorway, Aeron hesitated, in keeping with proper gentlemanly manners. It occurred to me at that moment that he was the first man (aside from Dominick and my father) to set foot in my home since its construction. How pitiful was that?

I held open the door as I motioned for him to enter. "If you don't come in, the bugs will..." I smiled jokingly as I stepped over to turn on the lights.

This wasn't a space I typically used at night, so the only lighting was a set of sconces on the opposite wall. They cast a soft glow over the room, turning the wall of windows into an expansive mirror.

Aeron set the lantern down on the little dining table, holding his position close to the door. I kept a comfortable distance between us as I leaned against the doorjamb of the entrance to my kitchen, my arms folded in front of me.

My forehead creased as my thoughts returned to the topic at hand—the impending obliteration of Earth's population. "Suppose we're not able to find and destroy the biological weapon in time...What do we do then?" My expression was bleak as I tried not to consider the distinct likelihood of that reality.

"We have to make certain that doesn't happen," he insisted. "But that is why I am specifically working on an antiviral agent that would be safe for humans. It would be much easier to use a toxic antimicrobial chemical to render the weapon harmless. But if we were too late in reaching the source, and it went global...We would need a treatment that can administered to the victims."

"What about a vaccine?" I suggested.

"It wouldn't be practical on a global scale." He had already considered the option. "There would be no way to explain the need to vaccinate everyone in advance without creating a panic. And once the virus has begun to disseminate, there won't be sufficient time for a vaccine to be administered to the entire population—let alone to actually kick in and prevent the disease."

As I racked my brain to come up with a better solution, it occurred to me how many years of education had gone into my medical knowledge. "Wait a second..." A puzzled expression crossed my face. "Was it just extraordinarily good luck that you happened to be an expert in microbiology?" I suspected I already knew the answer to that question.

"I kind of have a flair for the sciences," he replied sheepishly, confirming my suspicion. Language wasn't the only thing Aeron could learn in record time.

"I am grateful to have your help in continuing the work to develop an antiviral agent," he added. "It has been an unfortunate distraction from my duties toward Onontí. Until tonight, I was beginning to think I would have to abandon my efforts altogether." His expression was remorseful as I slowly grasped his meaning...He had been on the verge of leaving humankind to perish.

"You couldn't!" I was suddenly shocked and outraged at the possibility. "How could you live with yourself if you just gave up and watched an entire population die?" I refused to believe he was capable of such negligence.

"Believe me, it would be the hardest decision of my life," he responded emphatically. "But you must remember, my first duty is to the people of Onontí..."

"I hate to break it to you," I said, the tone in my voice a bit too icy, "but like it or not, you have taken on the responsibility of protecting two worlds now."

"Do you have any idea how hard it is to be in my position right now?" He hurled the words at me, throwing his hands up in frustration. "So many lives hinging on my every decision?"

"Yes, I can imagine the weight feels...unbearable." My voice was softer now. "Even so..." I shook my head slightly as I pondered the thought. "Do you realize how easy it is for me to envy you?"

"Envy me?" His face was stunned. Then his voice turned heavy with sarcasm. "Oh, yes...the glories of royalty! Absolute power, limitless wealth...Honestly, Palta, somehow I expected better of you."

"Don't be ridiculous," I shot back, inflamed by his rash judgment. "I have no interest whatsoever in power or wealth." I caught my breath and willed my voice to soften. "It's your heritage...You have a sense of true purpose and belonging among your people. There is a clear reason for your existence—one with immeasurable significance. You have an undeniable place in your world—and the freedom to be yourself—without having to hide your true identity from all but your closest family."

"Palta..." His voice was pleading, a sadness coming over his expression. "Surely you know enough of the history of human monarchies to realize that freedom is the last thing I've had. My life has been dictated since the day I was born—even before. Aside from the fears of brutal assassination and worldwide disaster, my life on Earth is the freest I have ever known."

I paused to absorb his words, his intense eyes pleading with me to understand. "I apologize, Aeron." True repentance filled my eyes. "I had never really looked at it that way. I hadn't considered how similar our situations actually are. Believe me, I know what it is to feel isolated and trapped. Like there's no hope of anyone ever appreciating you for your true self."

He stood silently, studying me carefully as he contemplated my earnestness. Suddenly, with three quick strides, he closed the distance between us.

His left arm looped around the small of my back, pulling me in, as his right hand swept upward to cradle the side of my face. I reflexively reached up to steady myself, taking hold of his arms. He leaned in, inching his face closer to mine, until I could feel his exhaling breath on my skin. There he paused, a puzzled expression in his eyes—as surprised by this sudden turn of events as I was.

I stood frozen in time, muscles tensing, my fingers gripping more tightly than necessary into his unyielding arms. I willed myself to meet his gaze, a mixture of confusion and hesitant anticipation on my face. I opened my mouth to speak, but was unable to find any words in the swirling tangle of thoughts inside my mind. A determined look flashed across his face, and without another word, his lips were upon mine.

A wave of calm washed over me as I finally remembered to breathe. I loosened my iron grip and slowly slid my hands up to find his chest. His left arm pulled me closer, anchoring my body firmly to his. His soft but urgent lips continued working over mine, as his right hand stroked the side of my cheek, my hair, down to my neck—ultimately coming to rest on my shoulder. And then, without warning, he was pushing me away.

I reluctantly pulled my mouth away from his, my hands still resting lightly on his chest, and tilted my head up to search his face for any sign of his thoughts. With an apologetic expression, he gently lowered his arms to his sides and took one step back away from me.

"I'm sorry," he whispered with a sense of regret in his voice. "I don't know what I was thinking."

I stood motionless as he turned around and briskly strode toward the door. I struggled to say something, anything, to hold him there with me. Breathless, I mustered a feeble "Wait!", but there was no one there to hear it.

The door was already closing behind him.

# CHAPTER 18

I stood motionless as a statue—staring at my reflection in the glass—the emptiness of the surrounding room mirrored back at me. I noticed the lantern was still sitting on the table. Aeron had left it behind, vanishing into the darkness alone. I briefly contemplated running after him, then decided he was probably halfway back to Sabela's house already.

The smart aleck side of me thought it would serve him right to fall in a ditch, having for the second time ditched me abruptly to disappear without a word. My indignant attitude was quickly replaced by the self-conscious realization that he had never intended to kiss me. Whatever his reason had been, he clearly thought better of it now.

Despite his hurtful rejection, I couldn't help but fret over his safety. I pulled my phone from my pocket to text Sabela, letting her know he was on his way back...At least he wouldn't be left to wander the desert all night.

Without waiting to see if she would text a reply, I headed upstairs to shower. It was much later than my usual bedtime, but I wasn't anywhere near ready for sleep. Somewhere in the midst of showering, it occurred to me I had skipped dinner. Our plans to take Dominick out to celebrate had obviously been scratched for more pressing business. Once dressed in my pajamas, I tromped back downstairs to forage for leftovers.

I knew it would be stupid to stay up all night when there was so much to be done the next day, but I didn't want to surrender to sleep quite yet. I was certain I would dream of Aeron, and I was determined to push all thoughts of romance out of my mind for good. Surely I had the maturity to be his friend and colleague without expecting more.

Before the unfortunate incident that abruptly concluded our conversation, we had arranged to meet in the morning to resume work on the antiviral agent. It would be Saturday, and we could work undisturbed at the medical school. Though my mental focus would be sharper if I went into it well-rested, I was more concerned about my ability to remain calm, cool, and collected in his presence. I was confident that I could still function intellectually on practically zero sleep—I had done it countless times before in the course of my medical training. But keeping my wits about me if my heart was still aching...That was another story.

I decided that a movie marathon was clearly in order. I tried to narrow down the options. Anything romantic was definitely out, as was anything involving space travel, kings, or handsome princes. Preferably there should be no good-looking men whatsoever, lest they remind me of Aeron.

Sadly, that eliminated practically everything.

I scrounged up a documentary on the evils of the fast food industry...I'd never finished watching it the first time, so now would be a good time to pick up where I left off. I popped in the DVD and collapsed on the couch.

The next thing I knew, I was coming awake as the sunlight streamed through the living room window. I had no memory of the movie, so apparently I'd conked out before it even started.

As expected, I'd dreamed of Aeron. This time, he was boarding a futuristic space ship as I watched from a distance. As he took off in flight, I could see his face through the porthole window. Even as he ascended to the darkness of space, somehow I still watched as he stared back at me. Even more vivid than his somber green eyes was the unbearable emptiness in the pit of my stomach. Now wide awake, the hollow emptiness was still there.

Yep...this was definitely going to be problematic.

I checked the clock and realized I had less than an hour before I was supposed to be meeting Aeron at the medical school. Considering the drive time, I needed to kick it in gear. I stopped by the kitchen to grab a bowl of cereal, then dashed upstairs to slap myself together. I managed to pull together a stylishly casual appearance before darting out the door to get on the road.

I decided it would be best if I just didn't think about what I would say when I saw Aeron again. It was going to be awkward no matter how you sliced it—there was no sense in making it worse by trying to rehearse my lines ahead of time. I parked in the deserted faculty parking garage, then took a deep breath as I got out of my car to make my way to the lab building.

I swung open the door to the microbiology lab to find Aeron already sitting at his lab station—the first time he'd been there since his earlier disappearance. He looked up from his laptop and turned to face me as I entered. "Good morning, Palta," he greeted me politely, with a friendly smile. "I brought coffee if you'd like some." He reached over to slide the lidded paper cup across the desk toward me. "I was just reading an article about a new generation of reverse transcriptase inhibitors."

I glanced at the screen in front of him. The article was entirely in Japanese. I knew just enough to pick out a few familiar words.

"Are you planning on using a reverse transcriptase inhibitor as the antiviral agent?" I sat down on the stool that was waiting for me next to him.

"No," he replied. "I think we'll have more luck with a ribozyme modeled after the treatment used on Onontí. Most Onontians are vaccinated against the virus in childhood, but the disease has not yet been completely eradicated. The most effective treatment for breakthrough cases seems to be a ribozyme used to break apart the viral DNA. I've made it so far as to develop several similar agents. Hopefully once we start testing them, we'll find one that's effective."

"You don't have a sample of the actual virus, do you?" I asked.

"No, just the DNA sequence," he responded. "I've managed to assemble enough of the sequence to serve as an effective test sample. If we're lucky, we should be able to confirm the most effective antiviral agent relatively quickly."

And with that, we set to work—not a word about the events of last night. Strangely, it wasn't awkward at all. We were working together to accomplish a task, and my mind was soon distracted from any personal drama.

As we worked, Aeron explained that the virus was in many ways similar to smallpox. It would spread by inhalation of airborne virus, making it highly contagious. Rather than causing the characteristic skin lesions, this particular virus would cause catastrophic injury to the respiratory system. I shuddered at the thought of an entire population slowly suffocating to death.

As the hours flew by, I was so absorbed in the work that I hadn't realized it was mid-afternoon, and we'd had no lunch. I was reminded of this fact when my stomach rumbled fiercely, the sound seeming to echo through the otherwise quiet lab. Standing close by, Aeron tried not to laugh as he obviously heard the sound of my sudden ravenous hunger.

"I know how you feel," he smiled. "Lunch is way overdue. I just hate to break away in the middle of setting up this sample. I think we were on the right track with the last one...Hopefully this will be it. I can finish out this part if you want to go get something for yourself," he offered considerately.

I proposed I make a quick run to the hospital to grab some cafeteria food for the both of us. It wasn't the most appetizing stuff on the planet, but it would be better than nothing.

"Thanks...That would be great," he agreed. "I could go for some more caffeine too...I think I got all of thirty minutes of sleep last night." He squinted as he rubbed his fingers back and forth across his forehead.

I had noticed his eyes seemed more tired than usual today. He did have a lot on his mind—global destruction, brutal assassination, ruthless dictator threatening to overtake his throne. Although none of this was significantly changed from recent weeks. I dismissed the notion that his sleepless night could have anything to do with me—and that kiss.

I returned from the cafeteria just as Aeron was coming to a good breaking point. We decided to head down the hall to the student lounge, where we could eat at a table intended for dining, rather than handling hazardous chemicals and microbes. Being Saturday afternoon, we had the place to ourselves. We sat down facing each other across the small round table. Sadly, it seemed no cleaner than the lab table would have been.

I hungrily gobbled my first bite of food, only to discover it was disturbingly difficult to chew. "Wow," I nodded in mock awe. "That is impressively...overcooked and tasteless."

We laughed together as Aeron suggested I hold my breath while chewing as fast as possible, then chase it with a gulp of soda. Somehow the fact that it was practically inedible didn't keep us from devouring everything in front of us.

As we ate, I decided to ask a question that had entered my mind earlier in the day. "If you don't mind my asking," I led off, "how did you get all of the information about the virus, when you didn't know about Obo's plan until you were already here on Earth? I'm assuming someone had to send you the DNA sequence?"

"Yes," he responded. "We have been able to transmit a great deal of information back and forth. Fortunately, we have the technology to do so without being detected by humans."

"I understand," I nodded, continuing hesitantly. "But how can you be sure your information is reliable?"

"Everything is funneled through our trusted contact, Imai Odele," he explained. "I believe my sister told you about him."

"Yes, she mentioned him," I confirmed. "It was clear that both of you trust him implicitly. Even so, she seemed to be troubled about something when she spoke of him." I saw in Aeron's expression that it wasn't something easily explained. "I'm sorry," I tried to brush it aside. "It's none of my business."

"No, it's okay," he reassured me. "She wanted to tell you. It's just hard for her to break old habits."

I tried not to look too puzzled. He finished wiping his hands, then tossed the rumpled napkin onto the empty plate in front of him, as he contemplated how to begin explaining. "The subject of Imai Odele has been surrounded in secrecy for many years...until recently."

"Secrecy from whom?" I was still confused.

"My parents," he responded.

Seeing that his answer didn't exactly clear up the question for me, he continued on. "As you already know, Imai served as my father's chief security officer for many years. My father trusted him with his life—and I know without doubt that his trust was not unfittingly placed. If anyone could have foreseen or prevented my parents' murder, it would have been Imai." His voice trailed off as he relived the pain of his parents' unexpected demise. "Despite my father's respect for Imai, he would never have sanctioned a relationship between an officer and a member of the royal family—especially not his only daughter."

Now the picture was becoming clearer...Ewenami was in love with Imai Odele.

"My parents tried in vain to introduce Ewenami to countless suitors they deemed appropriate for a princess, but she can be incredibly hard-headed." The corner of his mouth turned up into a crooked smile at the thought of her tenacity. "I'm not sure if her initial attraction was out of deliberate defiance to my parents' wishes, but eventually she grew to find a genuine connection with Imai. They fell deeply in love, and have managed to keep their relationship concealed for many years."

His smile seemed to sadden as he added, "It's a secret she's grown so adept at concealing, she can't get used to the idea that there is no longer a need to hide the truth—now that our parents aren't here to object. I certainly won't prevent her from marrying him...He's a remarkable man, and he loves her enormously. I know he will make her happy...if we all survive this mess."

# CHAPTER 19

"Poor Ewenami," I sighed with genuine compassion. "She traded the burden of secrecy for the burden of grief. And she didn't even have the comfort of getting to stay alongside the man she loves. I'm amazed she holds herself together so well...You were right," I added, an expression of true admiration on my face, "She is extraordinarily strong."

"Yes, she is," he quietly agreed. "I just hope that someday we can put our lives back together and give her the opportunity to enjoy true happiness. It will be hard for her to surrender the guilt of giving our parents so much grief over rejected suitors. Despite how it sounds, they were very caring and generous people...They only wanted the best for her."

"I think she knows that," I reassured him. "And I suspect they knew she wasn't deliberately trying to hurt them. Some children just don't react well to being controlled," I smiled wryly. "A concept my father understands well, thanks to me."

"Believe me, no one could ignore parental authority quite like Yours Truly," Aeron smirked. "My sister was definitely not the problem child."

"Yeah, sure," I scoffed. "You're the picture of respectability and moral character...You expect me to believe you were your parents' worst nightmare? What was your criminal act of choice—drunken bar fights? Or maybe grand theft auto? Don't tell me you sold the crown jewels to buy drugs...It's so disappointingly cliché."

"Okay, so apparently it wasn't as bad as it could have been," he laughed. His expression turned more serious as he clarified, "I just led my father to believe, quite convincingly, that I would give up my claim to the throne."

"Yikes," I cringed. "I gather that wouldn't have gone over well?"

"Not in the least," he shook his head slowly with a guilty smile.

"Did you mean it? Or were you just bucking authority?" I certainly understood the occasional compulsion to make stupid decisions just for the sake of proving your independence.

"Oh...It depended on the moment." He stared at the floor as he pondered the question. "Obviously I ultimately came to a different decision." He looked up with a half-hearted smile.

"Was it the right decision?" My question was sincere.

"I haven't exactly done everything perfectly, but I'd like to think I'm helping my people..." He seemed to think I was questioning his ability to fill the shoes.

"I know it was the right decision for Onontí," I dismissed his self-doubt. "I'm asking if it was the right decision for you." I raised my eyebrows slightly as I eyed him thoughtfully.

"The truth?..." he asked apprehensively.

"Of course," I nodded in encouragement.

"I don't know yet," he sighed, his face slowly settling into a warm smile. "But I'll let you know when I do."

Having long since finished our meal, we stood to clean off the table and headed back toward the lab. As we walked down the hall, Aeron asked me thoughtfully, "Do you feel like you've made the right decision, Palta?" He could tell from my puzzled expression that I had no idea what he meant. "Choosing to be alone..." he added. "Your sister seems to be very happy with Dominick, and it's clear from the way she looks at you that she wishes you had a similar companion." He was impressively adept at reading people...Maybe he had a touch of his sister's gift after all.

"Oh...I don't know," I sighed and bit my lip nervously. I thought for a moment and decided to be as honest as possible. "I'd give anything to love someone the way Sabela loves Dominick." I studied a spot on the floor ahead of me. "But I'm not interested in just any random man...He would have to be the right man." I involuntarily looked up to meet his eyes right as that last part came out of my mouth.

Aeron slowed his pace and reached up to gently take hold of my elbow, pulling me softly to a stop. "There's something I need to make clear to you, Palta," he began seriously.

As a look of mortification crossed my face, I stammered that I wasn't implying that he was the man in question. "Just let me speak, Palta." His gentle voice urged me to keep calm as he made a pacifying gesture with his free hand.

Unable to find any words, I simply nodded in understanding, exquisitely aware that his hand was still tenderly grasping my elbow.

"I owe you another apology..." he began, "for last night."

"Don't apologize," I reacted quickly, looking off to the side. In my humiliation, I couldn't bring myself to meet his gaze. "You suffered a lapse in judgment...It happens."

"I don't regret kissing you, Palta..." He reached his free hand up, gently turning my face toward him. His sorrowful eyes locked on mine as he explained, "What I regret is the reality that your life was much less chaotic before I arrived. I don't want to drag you into my mess any more than you already have been."

"Any mess I've been pulled into is not of your making, Aeron," I softly asserted. "You didn't choose to bring the war to my doorstep. And you had no obligation to consume so much effort to stop it. I know I reprimanded you last night, but the fact of the matter is—Earth didn't have to become your responsibility...You could have easily taken off long before now."

"You really think I could do that?" His troubled eyes studied mine for a moment.

I gave no response, entranced by the intensity of his gaze. He spoke again, his voice almost a whisper as his thumb stroked my cheek softly. "I'm beginning to think I could never leave...not as long as you remain here."

My heart stuttered in my chest as I wrinkled my forehead in utter disbelief. He cleared his throat, his voice gentle as he continued, "All my life I dreamed of traveling to Earth. My father never could understand my fascination...and I couldn't explain it. It was like a compulsion—this strange sense that something was waiting here for me." He glanced off to the side, examining his own thoughts. "Upon hearing your father's story, I came to the assumption it was him. Everyone was convinced he was long dead, but somehow I suspected differently. It was so surreal to finally find him last night. I was greatly relieved to know he was still alive...and that I wasn't imagining things. But I knew when we spoke that he wasn't the source of that magnetic pull."

He fixed his eyes back on mine, his expression hesitant. "The answer came when I kissed you...I felt for the first time in my life that nothing else was pulling me away from that moment." He slowly moved his hand from my elbow to my cheek, cradling my face gently in the palms of his hands. "It took all my strength to push myself away from you," he added softly.

"Then why did you?" My voice was barely a whisper, as I remembered my devastation when he'd broken away from me last night.

"It took me years to accept that I belong to Onontí," he replied solemnly. "I never wanted to belong to anyone—I craved independence. Yet the moment I kissed you, suddenly the oppressive weight of duty and obligation to the throne vanished. My own independence became insignificant. It was as though I belonged to you...and I was strangely at ease with that fact."

His intense eyes turned apologetic as he remembered the abrupt conclusion to last night's kiss. "In the moment, my thoughts and feelings were so confused that I took them to mean you would keep me from fulfilling my responsibilities—not intentionally, but through my own careless distraction."

He took a slow breath, stroking gently along my cheek as he continued, "I have since come to realize that your presence in my life is a source of strength. It brings me a sense of peace about my purpose as a leader. You calm that restless need for freedom...In your company, I am comfortable being the man I'm supposed to be."

I closed my eyes, my head spinning as I took a slow breath in, soaking up the warmth of his hands on my face. I finally exhaled, opening my eyes to meet his, as he anxiously searched my face. I slowly reached my right hand up to rest on his chest, feeling his heartbeat—the same drum that had brought me such comfort the night he almost breathed his last. Only today it was drumming faster, with the urgency of his anxiety to hear my true feelings.

"Aeron..." I hesitated, trying to find the right words. A sheepish smile crossed my face as I confessed, "I think we both know the power you have over me..."

The corner of his mouth turned up in a guilty smile.

With a deep breath, I continued earnestly, "I would follow you anywhere you ask...All I ask in return is that you promise never to run from me again." My eyes were pleading as I confided, "I withstood a lifetime of loneliness when I had no alternative. But now that I know you...I can't go back to that isolation again."

His heart sped faster as he nodded slowly but fervently. "I promise," he whispered, "I will never leave your side."

In the quiet stillness of the empty hallway, I could hear his steady breathing mixed with my own heartbeat thundering in my ears. We stood frozen in that moment, neither of us daring to move. Then slowly—almost imperceptibly—he began inching his face closer to mine, still tenderly grasping the sides of my face.

As his lips barely grazed mine, I matched the pace of my breath to his. The hair rose up on the back of my neck, sending a tingle down my spine, as he pressed his lips softly to mine. This kiss was much different from the night before—there was no feverish impulsivity. He moved slowly and deliberately, savoring the taste of my lips again and again.

The fingers of my right hand gripped his shirt tightly as I rested my left hand at his waist. He slid his hands slowly down to my neck, leaving his thumbs to gently tilt my chin up to face him, as he continued kissing me tenderly. It seemed like hours passed in that moment. The universe around us faded into the background, taking with it our worries of the past, present, and future.

The perfect serenity was broken when the unexpected sound of footsteps appeared at the end of the corridor.

# CHAPTER 20

Terror gripped me at the realization that we shouldn't have lingered so long at the scene of Aeron's prior attack...We would be sitting ducks if they decided to come back to ambush him.

I clung more tightly to Aeron's torso as I whipped my head around to face the approaching sound. Aeron's arms wrapped securely around me as he fixed his eyes on the end of the hall, waiting for the footsteps to round the corner. I held my breath in anticipation, then started with a jolt as a man appeared there...To my immense relief, it was a familiar face.

Dr. Raymond Bradley was a pathologist who taught at the medical school. He had been there since the beginning of time. In his balding state, his ears were clearly visible—and clearly rounded. He was most definitely not an assassin—just a man with no social life, who came in to work on weekends voluntarily.

Aeron and I stepped a little distance apart to avoid drawing attention to our embrace, but Dr. Bradley scarcely noticed. He had his nose buried in a journal, as he strode past us with a vague nod to acknowledge our presence. I heaved a sigh of relief as Aeron turned to pull open the door to the lab. He held the door in place, gently guiding me through with his hand at the small of my back.

Once safely inside the lab, we agreed it would be best to wrap up our work as quickly as possible. Even if there was no real danger, we were expected back at Sabela's house soon. Tonight we were moving Aeron and Ewenami's things to her place. The more of us who were there to help, the quicker (and therefore less conspicuous) the job would be.

Aeron picked up where he had left off with the test sample, and thankfully his optimism was rewarded—it proved to be the successful antiviral agent. Though we were both greatly relieved, there was no thrill of celebration. The hardest part of the job, by far, was yet to come. I was confident that Sabela's skills would efficiently guide us to the enemy ship—but it was hopeless to think that there would be no one there to guard it. It would take a miracle for us to locate the weapon, disarm it, and escape unscathed...All without leaving a trail for the enemy to eventually track us down. Aeron had a plan, but it left minimal room for error. If we were unsuccessful on the first try, we knew there wouldn't be a second.

By the time we had finished producing enough of the antiviral agent to be sufficient for the job, it was time to pack up and head to Sabela's. We loaded everything into Aeron's car, then he drove me to my parking space.

Before I got out of his car, he reached over to sweep my bangs across my forehead, tucking them back behind my ear. He wrapped his fingers around the back of my neck, gently tugging me forward to rest his forehead against mine. I took hold of his wrist, securing his hand in its place as I stroked my thumb along his smooth skin. I didn't want to move, to be separated from him—but we had decided it wasn't practical to leave my car behind at the school. Who knew if I would ever be returning to get it?

I took one more deep breath, then slid his hand from my neck to my cheek, turning into it to kiss the palm of his hand. He pressed his lips to my forehead softly, then whispered in my ear, "Be safe, Palta...I will follow behind you." I looked up to take in the brilliance of his vibrantly green eyes for one moment more, then turned to let myself out of the car.

He watched over me as I got in my car and started the engine. I led the way out of the parking garage and across the campus. Once on the highway, he followed closely behind me, never leaving enough space for other drivers to work in between us. The drive seemed much longer than usual, despite my attempt to distract myself by singing along to the radio. Finally we arrived at Sabela's house, where Ewenami was already waiting to get started with the move.

We parked in the front drive, then Aeron came over to take hold of my hand as we walked up the sidewalk. We hadn't discussed whether we would make our families aware of the news of our relationship...He seemed to know that I was too close with Sabela to want or need to conceal my happiness from her. Though I knew he was equally open and honest with his own sister, I still felt a thrill at how comfortable he was with overtly showing his affection.

When Sabela arrived at the door to greet us, her eyes immediately lit up at the sight of our joined hands. I smiled sheepishly as I reached my free hand up to wrap my fingers around the crease in Aeron's elbow, hugging his arm against the side of my body. I swear Sabela would have broken into tears of joy if she hadn't been interrupted by Ewenami coming to stand at her side, eager to see that Aeron had returned safely.

Ewenami's reaction was less subdued.

She leaped forward, throwing an arm around each of our necks, practically cutting off my air supply as she hugged us in tightly. I caught my breath as she relinquished her grip, moving over to place both her hands on Aeron's face, beaming up at him with pure delight.

"I knew it," she grinned. "I wasn't about to tell you, but I knew she felt the same way about you." She gave him a meaningful look as he rolled his eyes and shook his head slowly. I gathered that he and Ewenami had not exactly discussed his feelings for me directly...She had picked up on them through his personal thoughts. Recalling the moment when she had probed my own thoughts, I was grateful to realize she had kept them private.

Thankfully, neither of the mother hens felt the need to grill us about the particulars of our romance. They simply bustled around energetically, seeming to forget for the moment the gravity of the situation before us. The mood was pulled down slightly when Aeron mentioned that we had prepared the antiviral agent—reminding us all that phase two of our operation was now closer at hand.

Even so, we kept a jovial atmosphere as we waited for Dominick to return from picking up the moving trailer. Though Aeron and Ewenami didn't have many items to be hauled, it would take more than one of our cars to do the job without the help of a trailer. We all felt better traveling together. Hopefully we could each grab a couple of boxes, load up, and be out of sight in under ten minutes.

As we made the drive, Sabela took the opportunity to update us on her progress toward locating the enemy ship. With Father's detailed description of the ship itself—in combination with her childhood memories—she had effectively narrowed down the location to northern Montana. This made sense, knowing the enemy spies had gained access to the details of my family's travel to Earth. It was very close to their original landing point.

The feeling of tension was palpable in the car as we all came to the simultaneous realization that time was running short...It made no sense for us to delay, now that we had the key ingredients to our plan of attack. Aeron began to review the strategy as we approached the apartment complex.

We took a break from the discussion to undertake the retrieval of Aeron and Ewenami's belongings. They had very few personal possessions, all of which were already neatly packed into standard cardboard boxes. Then there were two massive military-style molded plastic cargo cases, large enough that I could have easily curled up to fit inside. Apparently Aeron had not come to Earth unarmed...They were packed with an assortment of futuristic-appearing weapons.

I wasn't a complete stranger to firearms, thanks to a brief stint of wanting to work in law enforcement—but I had no idea how to even begin to operate one of these. It took two of us to carry each case, which we quickly concealed within the trailer.

I hadn't really bothered to explore the tiny, nondescript apartment—it clearly wasn't "home" to either of them. With everything secured inside the trailer, we departed swiftly without returning inside.

As we returned to the preparations for our mission to Montana, Sabela raised a question. "Assuming we are successful in destroying the weapon and escaping, what then?" She was looking directly at me. "Where will you go from there?"

"Meaning?..." We both knew I was entirely aware what she meant.

"Meaning, will you be leaving Earth immediately, or do you plan to come back here first?" Her tone of voice was no different than if she had asked whether I was going to the grocery store or the post office.

"Who says she has to leave Earth?" Aeron was kindly trying to suggest that I had a free choice in the matter. "It may not be our only option." He was trying to be encouraging, but his eyes told me that he had no other viable suggestions in mind.

"Aeron," I shook my head softly as I turned to face him. "You can't stay here. Your only option—and therefore my only option—is to return to Onontí. I'm not staying here without you." He reached over to squeeze my hand, understanding from my expression that there was no point in debating the issue.

I turned back to face Sabela, meeting her wise, motherly eyes. "You know I will miss you dearly," she said lovingly. "But I trust you will find a way to get word to us when you can. Your happiness is far more important than my need for your company. Father, on the other hand, may have a difficult time accepting this..."

"I know," I sighed. "I'm sure I'm in for an earful."

"What is your plan?" she asked uncertainly.

"I plan on wearing earplugs," I replied dryly. "Beyond that, I've got nothing..."

# CHAPTER 21

I picked up my cell phone and called my father. There was no sense waiting until tomorrow to bring him up to speed. I didn't want a night of tossing and turning, debating what to say to him—best I go off the cuff as soon as possible.

Though it was approaching ten o'clock at night, he was still awake. I timidly asked if I might stop by to talk to him about something before he went to bed. He was genuinely pleased that I would be coming over and insisted he wasn't too tired for a visit.

Upon arriving back at Sabela's house, we easily unloaded the essentials for the night and carried them upstairs to the rooms Sabela had reserved for Aeron and Ewenami. As the rest of the group set to work unpacking things, Aeron escorted me back downstairs to head over to my father's house.

"Do you want me to come with you?" He asked guardedly, not wanting to be intrusive.

"I appreciate the moral support, but I think I should do this alone," I replied. "Besides, I don't want to give him a chance to work his voodoo magic on you, and convince you that you don't really love me." I was only half kidding.

"No one could convince me that I don't love you." His smile suggested it really was an absurd notion. "And you know your father wouldn't try," he added thoughtfully.

"You say that," I countered, "but he's never been faced with sending his baby girl into outer space with an alluringly seductive man before."

"Seductive?" He raised his eyebrows. "When have I ever tried to seduce you?" He was genuinely curious.

"Oh..." I shrugged, "just every time you're within a fifty yard radius of me."

"I'm within a fifty yard radius of you now..." He stepped in a little closer, his expression completely innocent.

"Exactly," I said with one exaggerated nod of my head.

"You're saying I'm trying to seduce you now?" He kept up the innocent facade.

"You're not trying to," I reassured him. "You just can't help it. It's like breathing..." I tried to hold back a smile.

"I believe there's some sort of saying about a pot calling a kettle black?" He raised his eyebrows knowingly.

"Who...Me?" My surprise was genuine. "Don't be ridiculous," I scoffed, "I'm physically incapable of seducing anyone."

"Have you looked in the mirror lately?" He chuckled.

"Yes, not five minutes ago," I answered candidly. "And I still had the same freakish elf ears I've had every other day of my life."

He tilted his head to the side slightly, a perplexed look on his face. "Your ears aren't 'freakish', they're perfect."

"Hah!" I ridiculed. "Okay, you might have had me going there for a minute, but now I know you're delusional..."

"Seriously, Palta..." He was honestly puzzled, "I haven't got a clue what you're talking about. What about your ears is supposed to be so bizarre?"

"Um...You'd have to be blind to miss them," I replied sarcastically. "If you're not, you will be when you poke your eye out on one of them."

"Palta..." He couldn't hold back a laugh, "How many Onontians have you actually come across in your lifespan?"

I rolled my eyes. "Don't ask questions you already know the answer to."

He sighed in exasperation. Then his eyes brightened as an idea occurred to him. "Would it make you feel better if I showed you someone else who has equally pointy ears?"

I gave him a look of mock pity. "You are aware the Easter bunny doesn't actually exist, right?"

He rolled his eyes, then ceremoniously raked his fingers through his hair, turning the side of his head to face me. I had seen his ears only once before, on the night of his terrifying near-death experience. At the time, I was too distracted to pay much attention to their exact form, beyond recognizing that they were clearly not human.

They were—like the rest of him—nothing short of perfect. Yet they definitely had a much sharper peak than I had remembered. My jaw dropped open slightly, then my mouth slowly formed into an awestruck smile. "You're telling me the elven ears are normal?"

"Very normal," he assured me.

"Then why don't my father and sister have them? At least, not so dramatically?" I was dumbfounded.

"The same reason they don't have your same hair color," he shrugged. "You know how genetics work, Palta."

"I guess it had never occurred to me...I'm so used to seeing human ears," I rationalized. "Truth be told, my father has always tried to convince me my ears are normal. I just refused to believe him."

"Well, now that we have that cleared up," he smiled playfully. "Back to the ridiculous notion that you are 'physically incapable of seducing anyone'." He took another step forward. "You do realize that no man in his right mind would be looking at your ears, when there are all these other amazing parts to study?"

"Really?" I smiled coyly. "Why, whatever could you mean, Mintar Omuran?"

He put his hands on the sides of my waist, then moved in closer, bending forward slightly to nudge the side of my jaw upward with his nose. He traced the tip of his nose down the side of my neck, stopping to kiss lightly above my collarbone. He wrapped his arms slowly around the small of my back, pulling me in closer still, as he traced his lips out to my bare shoulder, left exposed by my sleeveless blouse. He placed several kisses there, as my arms dangled languidly at my sides, unable to move in my spellbound ecstasy.

His lips glided back up to my ear as he whispered, "You are entirely composed of alluring parts." From there, he made a trail of soft kisses along my cheek, ultimately finding his way to my lips. As he kissed me with conviction, I skimmed my palms upward along his arms, working my way up to hug my arms around the back of his neck.

We pressed our bodies together tightly, indulging in the heavenly moment. All too soon, he pulled his lips away from mine slightly, whispering into my mouth, "As much as I would love to keep this going...You were supposed to be on your way out the door a while ago. I'm afraid your father won't be awake much longer."

I sighed in resignation, giving him one last fleeting kiss before stepping backward in the direction of the door. "Wish me luck..." I groaned as I reached over to grab my car keys off the table.

"Remember, he loves you more than life itself, Palta," he admonished. "Be gentle with him." He smiled softly as he squeezed my hand once more, then stood watching as I walked out the door.

I hopped in my car, not wanting to keep poor Father waiting while I stumbled through the dark to his house. I knocked softly on his door, then let myself in. As expected, I found him in his reading chair in the library. His face lit up when he saw me.

I couldn't help but feel a guilty twinge that I didn't deserve such a joyous reception—I would be breaking his heart in a matter of minutes. I bent forward to kiss his forehead, then positioned myself on the window seat next to his chair.

"To what do I owe this special visit?" he asked. I visit my father frequently, just not at ten o'clock at night.

"I just wanted to update you on our progress with everything. I feel like you've been left out of the loop." He did seem to be the odd man out of our little grouping.

"I appreciate that, Paltafoena," he nodded, setting his book aside. "Did you have any success formulating the antiviral agent?"

"Yes, thankfully," I affirmed. "Which brings us to the next step—delivering it into the weapon." I looked down at the floor, not wanting to consider the extreme risk we would be taking. "As you know, Sabela has narrowed down the ship's location to Montana."

"Yes," he nodded quietly.

"So we will be finalizing our plan of attack in the morning," I elaborated. "More than likely, we will be heading that way tomorrow."

"By 'we', you mean..." he prompted.

"Aeron, Ewenami, Sabela, and myself," I replied without looking him in the eye. "Dominick will stay behind to look after you." I paused before looking up to gauge his reaction.

"Why is Dominick staying here? I don't need anyone looking after me," he protested.

"Like it or not, someone will be staying here to tend to your needs," I insisted matter-of-factly. "Dominick is the most logical choice. Obviously Aeron and Ewenami are going...They plan to leave for Onontí as soon as the job is done," I explained. "And Sabela has to come along as our guide."

"What does Dominick have to say about this?" He raised one eyebrow.

"He objected, of course...Not to staying with you, but to leaving Sabela on her own," I replied. "But he was overruled. He would just be a liability...You know I love Dom like a brother, but he's not exactly the athletic type."

"You still haven't justified your own involvement," he pressed. "Why must you go?"

"That's kind of why I'm here," I winced. "I'm...sort of...planning on returning to Onontí....That is, going there for the first time...with Aeron." I grimaced as I waited for the onslaught.

"I see," he sighed. "I expected as much."

I stared in disbelief at his knowing eyes—not a trace of outrage. I was prepared for just about any reaction...except this eerie calm. I stammered clumsily, "Um...Excuse me? Are you...sure you heard me correctly?"

"I'm neither deaf nor dim-witted, my dear," he replied without flinching. "Is this what you really want?" He redirected me back to the subject at hand.

"Yes, it is," I nodded softly. "I love him. And I haven't quite wrapped my head around it yet—but for some reason, he loves me too," I shrugged.

"Of course he does." His expression made it clear he thought this was an obvious conclusion. "You are a beautiful, intelligent, strong, witty woman. You saved him from certain death. And you give him hope, as he faces the most difficult challenges of his life."

It never ceases to amaze me how my father can know everything without letting on that he knows everything.

"Did he say something to you?" I asked confusedly. To my knowledge, Aeron and my father hadn't spoken since last night.

"It was quite obvious from the way his eyes fixated on you..." He acted as though I was insulting his intelligence.

"You mean here...last night?" I was still confused. He nodded in confirmation, annoyed with my slowness. "That's absurd," I contested. "He barely even acknowledged my existence last night..."

"For someone so intuitive," he said, shaking his head, "sometimes you only see what you expect to see."

I pondered the possibility that he was right, as always. My heart sank as I realized how much I was going to miss this father-daughter banter. "Are you coming to Onontí with us?" I asked sorrowfully, already knowing the answer.

"No..." he replied softly. "I realize Aeron is hopeful my presence would help calm the conflict," he acknowledged, "but I'm afraid it would only fuel Bito Obo's anger." His expression turned despondent.

"Why?" I was confused again. "I don't understand...Does Bito Obo know you personally?"

His expression was troubled as he paused to contemplate his reply. He let out a sigh as he reluctantly answered, "Bito is my brother."

I wasn't expecting that one...not by a long shot. My father was an only child—at least according to the former version of our family history.

He could see the wheels turning in my head as he explained, "Actually, he is my half-brother. His mother gave birth after our father had already married my mother. She never spoke of her pregnancy...It had been a fleeting relationship, and she chose to raise Bito on her own. What she wasn't expecting was her own untimely death in a tragic fire," he frowned sadly. "She had left behind documentation of Bito's true parentage, and he was dropped reluctantly into our father's lap. Bito was thirteen years old, and I was almost twelve."

I kept my expression calm as I leaned back against the window, crossing my legs in front of me. Understanding I was making myself comfortable for a long story, he continued, "We were actually fast friends, we shared a lot in common—athleticism, academic excellence, and a remarkably similar gift for...winning people over. We enjoyed a friendly competition in school and beyond, as we both found our calling in the practice of law. The 'friendly' aspect of our competition was abruptly dropped when I was appointed to a position that Bito wanted—in the service of Mintar Kenami Omuran, Aeron's father. Rumors had circulated that Bito was using his powers unethically to sway judicial rulings in his favor. He was cast out of our professional circle in dishonor.

"Over time, Kenami and I grew to be the closest of friends...closer than brothers. I became his chief advisor. Long before it reached that point, Bito had already alienated himself from our family entirely. I had no idea he was plotting to overtake the throne. When his intentions came to light, I attempted to reconnect with him and help him see sense...It did not go well. Bito—or one of his minions—planted an explosive in my office. I was badly injured, but your remarkable mother was able to restore me to health. She pleaded with Kenami to protect our family, and he responded with the best protection he could offer—to get us as far away from Bito as possible. Knowing I would never agree to abandon my position, he insisted I would be doing him a service—attempting to form an alliance with Earth. I would never have left were it not for your mother and Sabela...and my belief that Bito's vengeance was fueled by his animosity toward me."

"Does Aeron know all of this?" I asked. "Why would he think you could help calm Bito Obo?"

"He knows I am his half-brother," he responded. "And that I am probably the only man who could rival his powers of mind control," he added reluctantly.

"Is he asking you to control Bito's mind?" I knew how objectionable it would be for my father to forcibly control anyone's thoughts, even his malevolent brother.

He shook his head, "No, he would never ask that." I was not surprised that Aeron had taken the moral high ground. "He is hopeful I could break the hold that Bito has on his followers."

I could understand that line of thought—it did seem plausible. "And you don't think it would be worth a try?" I asked tentatively.

"Trust me, Bito would recognize my interference." He reached out to take hold of my hand, his expression grave. "And Aeron—along with his people—would suffer the consequences."

# CHAPTER 22

I knew there was no point in trying to persuade my father to come with us. He had never lost an argument he felt strongly about. I clasped his hand in mine, looking into his wise and weary eyes. "Are you really going to let me go?" I asked warily.

"You have long ago outgrown the need for my authorization," he replied with a shrewd look.

"I'm well aware of that," I shook my head. "What I meant was...Are you going to try to convince me to stay?" We both knew if he really wanted to, he could succeed.

"If you love him," he said decisively, "you must go with him. I will not be here forever to need your attention, my dear. Truth be told, I wish your sister would go with you," he mused. "You girls belong together."

"We would never leave you here alone," I protested. "Aren't you concerned about the danger? Onontí is at war."

"Clearly Earth isn't immune from that danger," he reminded me. "At least there you'll be under imperial protection." He sighed as he reached up to pat my cheek. "I've had more years of being the only man in your life than any father could expect. I can't let my selfish need to keep you near ruin your chance of happiness." He smiled sadly.

I tried to hold back my tears as I moved over to give him a hug. It was impossible to believe that it would be one of our last.

He kissed me on the cheek, then cleared his throat. "I wish I could say I'm not sleepy..." He tried to keep his voice cheerful. "But I'm utterly exhausted." He let out a big yawn to prove it.

It was obvious he was trying to put up an appearance of acceptance—even peace with my impending departure. I decided to let him have his way. I walked him upstairs to his room and paused to give him one last kiss on the cheek. "I'll miss you, Father..." I choked back a sob.

"Not as much as I will miss you, my love," he smiled with a wink. "But you have no idea how much it will comfort me to know that you are happy." With that, he turned and shuffled into his bedroom, closing the door softly behind him.

I made it to the car before the tears flowed uncontrollably. It was ridiculous to be older than any human on the planet and still have a need for my Daddy. But it almost made it harder that we had shared so many years together.

When I arrived back at Sabela's house, I was still tearful—though I'd managed to get control of the hysterical sobbing. Aeron met me at the door. I fell into his arms as he hugged me silently and waited patiently for me to get control of myself.

"I'm sorry..." I looked up to wipe the tears from my cheeks. "I'm usually not so melodramatic."

"Was he angry with you?" He speculated. "Or with me?" His expression was remorseful.

"No," I reassured him. "He wasn't angry at all...He's amazingly at ease with my leaving."

Aeron's expression turned bewildered.

"We had a great talk," I explained. "He told me everything." I gave him a meaningful look to indicate that my father really did reveal all. "It wasn't until I had to tell him goodbye that the water works started," I sniffled, disgusted with myself for being so childish.

"Palta," he tried to soothe me. "If you are having doubts about your decision..."

"What?" I was ashamed of myself for giving him such a ludicrous impression. "You think I'm regretting choosing you?"

"I would understand, Palta." He looked at me reassuringly. "It would be heartbreaking...but I would understand." His voice trailed off as he reached up to wipe another tear from my cheek.

"Let's get this straight right now..." My tone turned authoritative. "I have been stubborn for one hundred and seventeen years, and that's not going to change now. Once I've made a decision, I hold to it." I hugged him tightly, mumbling over his shoulder, "I'm afraid you're stuck with me."

He exhaled softly as he buried his face in my hair. "Is it selfish that I am extremely relieved?" he whispered. I shook my head gently without speaking, still hugging him tightly. "Good..." He breathed in the scent of my hair. "I can't imagine my future without you."

"I just hope we both have a future," I sighed. "I'm beginning to despair that the chances are slim."

He raised his head, locking his eyes on mine. "You will have a future, Palta," he insisted firmly. "If they get to me before I can destroy the weapon, you run like hell. Even if the worst happens and it goes airborne, you can survive."

"You think the virus going airborne is the worst that could happen?" I looked up at him incredulously. "That may be the worst for humankind, but for me personally—it couldn't get any worse than losing the people I love...any worse than losing you." I put my head back down on his shoulder as I hugged him more tightly. He wrapped his arms securely around me, pressing his lips against the side of my head.

After a prolonged silence, I involuntarily let out a yawn. "Let me take you home," he encouraged softly. I tried to make an objection, but he shook his head. "It's your last night there...I won't steal that from you."

I wanted to say it didn't matter, but the thought of leaving Earth without at least seeing my comfort zone one last time was admittedly daunting. I reluctantly trudged toward my car, handing him the keys to drive. I felt pathetic being so visibly exhausted, knowing he had probably missed out on more sleep than I had lately. But try as I might, I couldn't suppress another yawn.

As Aeron pulled into my garage, my head bobbed forward from the overpowering drowsiness. He walked around and scooped me out of the passenger seat into his arms, following my garbled directions to my bedroom upstairs. He laid me down on the bed, pulled off my shoes, and covered me with the blanket. As he bent forward to kiss my forehead and whisper a goodbye, I pried my eyelids open. "Don't leave me," I muttered indistinctly, placing my hand on his. He sat down on the side of the bed, stroking my hair as he kept hold of my hand.

I fought the overwhelming urge to fall asleep just long enough to slide over toward the center of the bed, holding up the corner of the blanket to indicate that he should lay down too. He complied, kicking his own shoes off and leaning backward to rest his head on the pillow next to me. I pulled the blanket across his body, positioning my head on his shoulder and resting my hand on his chest. He reached up to squeeze my hand, and I kissed his cheek softly. My eyelids grew unbearably heavy, and I surrendered to slumber.

We awakened to the ringtone of Aeron's cell phone just after eight in the morning. It was Ewenami calling. In her defense, she wasn't snooping. We were supposed to be up well before then...It would be time to go in a matter of hours.

I rubbed my eyes, wishing we could sleep a little longer. As my mind slowly came into focus, reality sunk in...I was really saying goodbye to everything today. I sat up on the side of the bed next to Aeron, staring blankly at the wall in front of me. He was telling Ewenami that he would be on his way over shortly.

As he hung up the phone, he reached to take hold of my hand. "Why don't you take a little time to put your things together," he suggested thoughtfully. "Come over when you're ready."

It occurred to me that I had no idea what—or how much—I should pack. "Will there be much room on the ship for personal belongings?" I asked.

"Yes, there should be plenty of room for you to bring whatever you think you need," he assured me.

Suddenly a torrent of questions flooded through my brain. I started firing them off in rapid succession, not even giving Aeron a chance to answer. "How long will the flight take?...Do we have enough food?...Is there a bathroom?...What about a shower?...Or a washing machine?...Are there beds, or do we have to sleep sitting up?"

When I was forced to break the stream of consciousness to take a breath, Aeron seized the opportunity to make an attempt at answering. "It will take about three months...And you will not have to starve, live in squalor, or sleep strapped in your seat," he teased.

"I'm sorry if my questions are idiotic and self-absorbed," I apologized. "I've just had so many other things on my mind, I hadn't considered the logistics of the flight. I've always pictured my father's ship as being just a step above the space shuttle. Now it occurs to me that it wouldn't be very conducive to comfortable living on a long-distance flight." I gave him an embarrassed look as I confessed, "I wish I could say I'm low maintenance, but I like some of the finer things in life...like a toothbrush."

He chuckled. "I think you'll be pleasantly surprised at the living conditions. It's a substantial improvement on the space shuttle."

"Well, what did you expect me to think?" I defended myself. "It's the one and only design for a spaceship to come out of Onontí—and it hasn't been improved upon in over a hundred years..."

He nodded in acknowledgment that I had a point. "I can see why you would be skeptical," he conceded. "You seem to be under the misguided impression that Onontí had no experience with space travel prior to your father's flight."

I started to justify my thoughts, but he calmly requested that I give him a chance to explain. "You are correct that your father's ship was the first to be capable of faster-than-light travel," he clarified. "But there have been many ships capable of shorter-distance travel since long before his. Onontí is a small planet, but it is significantly more technologically advanced than Earth. There are quite a few surrounding colonies—envision a network of massive space stations—with transport ships going back and forth on a daily basis. Space travel is not at all a rarity for Onontians...But faster-than-light travel is quite a bit more complicated."

Understanding registered on my face as I grasped what he was saying. "So my father's ship was just a modified version of the type already used for more local travel?"

He nodded in confirmation. "There have been some advancements over the intervening years, but for the most part his ship's design is still quite sophisticated—definitely eons ahead of anything you're used to seeing."

"Who knew?" I mused. "I've had a lifetime of mental images that are completely off base. I suppose I am in for a surprise. I can't wait to see it all..."

He smiled as he kissed my cheek. "I can't wait to show you," he said cheerfully, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "So we better get a move on..."

"Aye aye," I made a mini salute. "I'm starting with a shower...just in case."

He shook his head with an amused smile as he turned to head for the door. "I'll see you in a bit...Just give me a call if you need help loading your things in the car."

I headed for the shower, trying to move quickly. It would take me a while to decide what exactly warranted packing. Once I was dressed and ready, I went down to the kitchen to grab a quick breakfast. Between bites, I darted around grabbing assorted items to toss into suitcases and boxes.

Some things were easy—clothes, toiletries, treasured family pictures. Others posed unexpected challenges. I wondered if my blow dryer would be of much use without a proper outlet. Similarly, my DVD collection would probably be useless. Somehow that didn't stop me from grabbing some of my favorite titles. I threw in several of my favorite books as well. I decided to pack my laptop...Surely there would be some way to power it—and if nothing else, it would be good for playing movies. As the thought occurred to me, I tossed in a few more DVDs.

Finally, I rummaged in the back of my closet to extricate a small wooden box, about the size of a shoebox. Locked within was the only weapon I owned. My father was adamant that I needed some means of protecting myself...He is not a violent man, and to my knowledge he had brought no weapons to speak of from Onontí. But when I moved into my own house, he insisted on giving me this small semiautomatic handgun. I bring it out about once a year to make sure it is still in working order. Otherwise, I have never had occasion to even think of using it. I double checked it was loaded, then snapped the case shut and placed it carefully in one of the moving boxes.

As I reached the end of my mental packing list, I paused to take one last look around. The house still looked much the same—all of the furniture still in its place, as though I had just packed for a short vacation. Somehow it was comforting to think of it that way—like it would still be there waiting for me if I ever returned.

# CHAPTER 23

I managed to condense everything pretty well into three suitcases and a couple of cardboard boxes. I loaded them all in the back of my car and made the short drive to Sabela's house. Along the way, I placed a quick call to the medical center. Tomorrow would be Monday, and obviously I wouldn't be making it in to work. I left a message on the departmental secretary's voicemail that I had taken a fall while rock climbing out of town over the weekend, and would therefore be taking some sick days. I explained that I would call back when I returned to town later in the week.

Sabela could put in a call in a few days claiming to be me, requesting a more extended medical leave due to complications of broken ribs. At least that would justify my sudden disappearance and keep anyone from searching for me. I didn't want my family to have to deal with that kind of attention.

I parked in Sabela's driveway, where Dominick's SUV was still hooked up to the moving trailer. I let myself in through the side entrance and followed the sound of voices to the living room, where Ewenami and Aeron were stacking their things near the front door. Most of it was still boxed up from the night before. I offered to help as Sabela and Dominick came down the stairs with the rest of the boxes.

Once everything was arranged by the door, we all convened around the dining room table to finalize our plans. We would be loading everything back into the moving trailer, then driving the three and a half hours to the hidden location of Aeron's ship—a secluded spot near Cibola National Forest, southwest of Albuquerque. We would have to leave the unloaded trailer at the site, but Dominick's vehicle would actually fit inside the ship's cargo hold. We would allow some extra time to get everything squared away on the ship, then after nightfall we would take flight for Montana.

Sabela was fairly certain our destination was somewhere in the Rocky Mountains near Glacier National Park. We would fly at night to avoid notice. The ship was equipped with stealth technology to avoid detection by radar, but to the naked eye it would be an obvious deviation from a typical airplane. We planned to land a safe distance from the enemy ship, using Dominick's SUV to get in closer. Sabela's vision suggested the ship was in a valley clearing amid the mountains. We would position ourselves at various points overlooking the ship, keeping the enemy soldiers distracted with gunfire while Aeron attempted to board the ship and disarm the weapon.

If we were successful (and that was a big if), we would get Sabela to the nearest airport before returning to Aeron's ship for our final departure. It would more than likely be broad daylight—but by the time we were noticed, we would be long gone.

I could feel the butterflies fluttering in my stomach at the realization that I had no formal combat training whatsoever. Aeron, however, seemed fairly confident in that context. I wasn't sure if that made me more or less nervous. He would be trying to carry more than his fair share of the weight on this mission, and it might leave him open to injury...or worse. I didn't want to face the terror of wondering whether I would be able to save his life a second time.

Evidently my intense worry was showing through in my facial expression. As we concluded the meeting, Aeron walked over to put his arms around me. "Don't be so concerned," he whispered. "We will get through this, I promise."

"What makes you so certain?" I couldn't help my skepticism.

"We have no other choice," he replied matter-of-factly.

"Is that really all you can come up with?" I scowled. "Couldn't you just lie and tell me you have some kind of secret badass weapon that is going to make this a piece of cake?"

"I have all kinds of badass weapons," he grinned. "But unfortunately, the rebels probably have all of the same stuff. It will help that we have the element of surprise. And Ewenami can keep them off guard by scrambling their thoughts...They'll have trouble remembering where they are, or what they're supposed to be doing."

"I recognize that will be a huge help," I agreed. "But have you thought about what kind of powers they might have that we aren't prepared for?" I wrinkled my forehead nervously. "I hate being the pessimist, but somebody has to do it," I added with an apologetic shrug.

"I assure you, that concern has been on my mind since long before now." His tone was more somber. "But I choose to believe that good will triumph over evil. And remember what I told you last night...If anything happens to me, you run." He eyed me sternly.

"Bear in mind, I love you," I returned his stern gaze. "But I have absolutely no intention of listening to you."

He sighed in exasperation as I leaned in to kiss him, not giving him a chance to argue. It distracted him sufficiently. He dropped the issue and took hold of my hand, walking me to the back door to meet everyone outside for the next phase of our preparations: target practice.

The large weapons cases were already out in the backyard, an expansive desert landscape looking out on the mountains. Aeron had positioned makeshift targets at various distances from the open cases. Ewenami was already setting up to take the first shot. I startled slightly as she fired. A harsh, electric zapping sound rang out, as a neon blue flash discharged from the muzzle. The gun was deceptively small compared to the sizeable blast hole it left in the center of the target...This was not Ewenami's first time on the shooting range.

She demonstrated impressive accuracy with the remainder of the targets, then stepped back to introduce Sabela to one of the other weapons. While she was doing this, Aeron began distributing fresh targets. Sabela was not quite as adept as Ewenami, but she held her own reasonably well. Dominick looked on with an apprehensive expression, trying—as I was—not to think of the fact that the real targets would have their own similar weapons.

My turn was up, and Aeron pulled a formidable gun from the case. It reminded me of something a comic book gangster would carry, only it was white and molded from some sort of heavyweight plastic. He gave me a thirty second crash course in its operation, then stepped back to give me a wide berth.

I carefully lined up the first target and squeezed the button that functioned as a trigger. It was a direct hit, but it left me with spots in my eyes from the intense blue flash. "What the heck is the benefit in that?!" I griped, turning back to face Aeron. "How am I supposed to hit the next target if I'm half blind?" I blinked feverishly to regain my full sight as he stepped toward me.

"Sorry, that's my fault," he cringed. "I neglected to tell you to keep your eyes focused on the distant target. Try not to look down at the barrel."

"Anything else I need to know about?" I jokingly harassed him. "Are my arms going to fall off if I don't push the button the right way?"

"No," he chuckled. "Your arms only fall off if you forget to say the magic words first."

"Something like, 'Die, you rebel punk bastards'?..." I proposed.

"That'll work..." He stepped back with a wink.

I squinted my eyes slightly, taking care to remain focused on the next target—another direct hit. As Aeron had anticipated, I was able to continue on to the remaining targets without another disruption to my vision. I was slower than I'd like to be, but my accuracy was dead-on.

Aeron stepped up to my side again, patting me gently on the back. "You did a great job," he observed. "You're a natural." I handed the gun back to him, and he returned it to its place in the case, locking the lid closed. Apparently he had no need to join in for the practice run.

The second case contained an assortment of grenades and some sort of futuristic bazooka. We gathered around as Aeron gave us a detailed description of their operating instructions. We opted against actually testing these. Even though our property extended for miles, the commotion might garner unwanted attention.

We hauled the cases around to the front drive, loading them back into the moving trailer. We followed them with all of the remaining boxes and suitcases. With everything secured in the trailer, we piled into Dominick's car to drive over to my father's house for a farewell lunch.

# CHAPTER 24

My father is not exactly known for his culinary abilities, so he gratefully stepped aside as Sabela and I took over in the kitchen. With effort, I ignored the impulse to view everything with sappy sentimentality. This would be our last family gathering (at least the last one I would attend); but it wouldn't do any good to spend it wallowing in sorrow. I resolved to treat it as any other day, joking and chattering randomly as always.

Father may have been working equally hard, but on the surface he seemed legitimately unruffled. He happily involved Aeron and Ewenami in the casual family chitchat as we gathered around the table. We seemed to have come to a unanimous, unspoken agreement to avoid any discussion of tonight's upcoming events.

My father and Aeron took turns sharing stories about Kenami, Aeron's father. Though some of the anecdotes were recalled with humor, it was clear that they had both thought very highly of the man. I was interested to learn that Aeron had actually inherited his extraordinary intellectual capacity from his mother, Emotai. She had an autobiographical memory—an ability to recall the exact events of every second of every day of her long life.

We stayed around the table long after the meal was finished. As saddened as I would be to leave, the stories of Onontí did further my enthusiasm to see it with my own eyes. My excitement was blunted, however, by the minor detail that we would quite possibly be dead before this time tomorrow. I tried to draw on Aeron's confidence and convince myself that we would be victorious, but I couldn't suppress the instinctive gnawing in my stomach.

The hands on the clock continued to turn all too fast, and suddenly it was three o'clock—our planned departure time. I caught a glimpse of Sabela's face as she noticed the time as well. Apparently I wasn't the only one beginning to panic inwardly. She was gripping Dominick's hand tightly between both of hers. I knew it would be hard to leave him behind, but it would be a thousand times harder to bring him into the battle. I could understand. Though Aeron was much more durable and combat-ready, he wasn't invincible...I was repeatedly reminded of that fact by the flashbacks of his broken and bleeding skull.

Given the choice, I would easily volunteer myself up to go into the enemy ship and destroy the weapon. I had tried to convince Aeron to at least let me come along to assist, but he wouldn't hear of it. I hadn't been vaccinated—and in the event of a leak, I would receive a mega dose of the virus.

Aeron looked at the clock and diplomatically reminded us all that it was time to wrap up. For the most part, I tend to forget that he is the head of an entire planet; but every now and then, his tone of voice reminds me. It is never arrogant or demanding—just quietly authoritative. We stood from the table and began making our way to the front door.

My father and Dominick formed a little receiving line, as each of us passed by to bid farewell. Ewenami went first, giving them each a warm hug before heading out to the car. Sabela and Father embraced and spoke briefly, then she moved along to Dominick. He looked about as sick as I felt.

I took my turn to face my father. Either I had exhausted all my tears last night, or I was too stunned to cry. My eyes were dry as I told him I loved him and would miss him every day. He echoed the sentiments with equally dry eyes...I could almost see a glimmer of pride in them. He pulled me in for a bear hug, whispering in my ear, "I wish your mother could see what a remarkable woman you have become." It was the first time he had ever said so (at least in so many words). I'm not sure if it was due to the nostalgia of stories from his former life, or the emotion of saying goodbye; but either way, it was the greatest compliment he could have paid me. I fought the urge to blubber and hugged him a moment more, then kissed his cheek and stepped over to where Sabela and Dominick stood.

I gave Dominick a hug and teasingly reminded him to take a break from the sci-fi movie marathon long enough to shower and sleep while Sabela was away. Though I was trying to avoid blatantly eavesdropping, I was fairly certain Aeron was making one last appeal to my father to return to Onontí with us. I'm not certain how much of his motivation was the theory that Father would be able to oppose Bito Obo, versus the knowledge that I would miss him desperately. Either way, my father's response was clear. He would be staying behind.

Father and Dominick watched from the front porch as we settled into the car, with Sabela in the driver's seat. She had insisted that Aeron take an opportunity to catch a nap. The rest of us would get our chance while he was flying the ship tonight. I knew better than to expect that he would truly rest, but I agreed he should let someone else do some of the work. I was more than willing to be the driver, but Sabela made more sense. She rarely actually needed directions, no matter how unfamiliar the territory.

We pulled out of the driveway, and within a few minutes were out on the lonely highway. I sat in the front passenger seat, trying to get in a few final hours of sisterly togetherness. We chattered along for the first hour or so, then fired up the radio. Aeron and Ewenami laughed as we serenaded them with a random medley of show tunes.

I was struck by how much I would miss some of the uniquely human experiences. It occurred to me that nobody on Onontí would know anything about Broadway musicals—or New York City for that matter. Just as Aeron and Ewenami were clueless as to most of the lyrics we were singing, soon I would be the clueless one.

My self-consciousness was temporarily overshadowed by the realization that this really was my last night with my sister. Once again, my stomach lurched at the subsequent remembrance that she too was going to be endangering her life tonight. I could handle a life of separation from Sabela, but I couldn't fathom a world without her. I pushed the terror to the back of my mind and tried to soak up these last few hours.

Eventually Sabela slowed to turn onto a small, unpaved road. The property was bound by a long barbed wire fence extending out in each direction along the main road. She came to a stop in front of the locked gate, glancing in the rearview mirror to check with Aeron that she was on the right track. He nodded in confirmation. I took from his response that the sign reading 'Private Property—No Trespassing' didn't apply to us...Apparently he owned this land.

He stepped out of the car to let us through the gate, then locked it again behind us. Sabela continued on along the straight dirt road that extended into a cluster of tree-covered hills several miles ahead of us. As we approached the hills, the road began to wind among the trees and rocks. After another fifteen minutes or so of driving, Sabela slowed to a stop, a quizzical look on her face. "You're right," Ewenami spoke from the back seat. "We're going off the road."

Sabela took a left turn to follow a narrow path through the trees, as the trailer bounced along behind us. It was slow going for another ten minutes, then Aeron directed Sabela to back the trailer in between two evergreen trees. He stepped out to unhook the trailer, then climbed back into the car.

Sabela knew without asking to make a turn into a narrow gap between two large boulders. We weaved along the rocky path between boulders and trees for a few minutes more, until we came upon a small clearing surrounded by steep hills.

My jaw dropped as I took in the surreal sight...Tucked neatly into the clearing was a ship the size of a house.

# CHAPTER 25

The ship was not what I had expected. For one, it was massive. I knew it would have to be large to hold all of us, our belongings, and a sizable SUV—but somehow it hadn't registered that it would be this big.

It towered above us, propped up on four silver metallic hydraulic legs. I noticed they had no wheels. Evidently it needed no runway for takeoff. That was a good thing, seeing as how there was barely enough room left in the clearing to maneuver our vehicle.

The body of the ship was shaped like a broad "X", with the inner corners rounded off—almost like a chunky, four-armed starfish. There was an oblong dome projecting from the top, and the underside of the ship slowly opened into a wide cargo ramp on our approach. Aeron had used some sort of remote control to trigger it.

There were countless windows—some of them round portholes, others vertically-oriented rectangles with rounded corners. The front of the upper dome was a giant seamless windshield. There were no sharp edges anywhere, although the outer points of the four arms were slightly more squared off than a starfish's would be.

There was a ribbon of metallic vents tracing along the outer rim of the underbelly—I gathered they had something to do with the propulsion system. The flawlessly smooth body of the ship was an opalescent off-white tone, which glimmered slightly in the sun's rays. Despite its immense size, it was quite elegant...I found it surprisingly beautiful.

I stared open-mouthed for a long moment, studying the details of the ship's sweeping lines and graceful curves. I imagined from the air it would appear to be some sort of futuristic house, nestled amid the trees.

After a minute, I became aware that Aeron was watching me from the backseat. I turned to meet his beaming face. I knew he wasn't smiling because he was particularly proud of the ship...He was elated to see my fascinated expression. I returned his enthusiastic smile, for the moment letting the excitement of the experience overtake my mounting fears.

Sabela was equally awestruck as she peered through the windshield, her foot still on the brake. At length she turned to face me, nodding in approval. "It looks exactly like Father's ship," she remarked with amazement. "It's been so long since I've seen it in person, I had forgotten how spectacular it is." She slowly proceeded forward, following Aeron's instructions to steer the car up the ramp and into the ship. She cut the engine, and we stepped out into the cargo hold.

It was a monochromatic gray color, with nondescript crates and boxes stacked along the side walls. Aeron led the way to a door at the far corner, which slid open automatically when he placed his hand on a sensor pad located off to the side. He stood aside, motioning for me to step ahead.

As I passed the threshold, overhead lights automatically came on to illuminate the interior. I found myself standing in the middle of a corridor, arcing out to my left and right, the ends of which curved away from me just enough to conceal their contents from my view. Every surface was the same off-white shade as the exterior had been. With the sunlight still streaming in through the several vertical rectangular windows on the facing wall, the effect was very bright and spacious. It was cooler than I had expected—nothing like a car that had been left outside in the summer heat.

I turned and gave Aeron a questioning look, not sure which way I should proceed. He directed me to the left, taking hold of my hand to guide me. Sabela and Ewenami followed as we made another left turn about five yards down the passageway. This was a straight connecting corridor that appeared to intersect at its far end with a second arcing corridor, a mirror image of the first. We did not traverse the full distance of this hall, stopping instead at its midpoint to step into what appeared to be some sort of elevator. It came to a rest, having lifted us up what felt like the equivalent of one or two floors. The doors slid open to reveal a spacious control bridge, the facing wall a vast windshield. We were in the upper dome I had seen from the exterior view.

It followed the same fresh white color scheme as the rest of the interior. Directly under the windshield was a long counter, full of various controls. There were several contoured white seats positioned at intervals along the counter. Aeron stepped forward to one of the control panels, pressing his palm against it in the same way he had done to open the door. The controls began to light up, blinking and flashing randomly. The lower portion of the windshield became a transparent screen, projecting various images and alphanumeric characters. At least, that is what they appeared to be—none of it was familiar to my eyes. There was a grid, which I assumed somehow indicated our position.

Despite the fact that the sun was still streaming in, there was no glare on the screen. All of the images were clearly visible, along with the trees and hills in the background behind them. Aeron punched several buttons, then lifted my hand to place it palm-down on the sensor pad. An unfamiliar recorded voice spoke in a language I didn't understand. I raised a quizzical brow as I looked up at Aeron's face. He instructed me to speak my name aloud. Apparently, this was how the ship's computer and I would become acquainted. Once it had logged my information, Aeron directed Sabela to step forward and do the same. Obviously Ewenami was already in the system.

The technical requirements completed, we stepped back into the elevator to return to the lower level, so that Aeron and Ewenami could show us the remainder of the ship. The central section housed a large dining and food prep area, complete with a massive walk-in pantry fully stocked with food (granted, most of it appeared to be freeze-dried). There was also a smaller recreational room, complete with a wall-mounted viewing screen and what appeared to be exercise equipment.

Each of the four wings of the "X" constituted a self-contained living suite: a spacious bedroom, bath, living area, and office space. There was even a condensed kitchen, complete with what Ewenami explained was the laundry appliance. It looked nothing like a standard washing machine or dryer. I wasn't ashamed to admit that I would need an instructional session before having any clue how to operate it. Clearly, that wasn't exactly a priority at this precise moment.

We only viewed one of the suites—apparently they were all identical. Like the rest of the ship, their décor was simple, with the same tranquil off-white hues. Even the spacious bath was equipped with porthole windows, and the living area and bedroom each contained several of the large vertical windows. At the press of a button, they opacified to block out the light. I'm sure that would be necessary for restful sleep at times, but right now they afforded a stunning view as the sun began its descent toward the hills.

Our tour complete, Aeron asked what I thought. It was clearly far beyond what I had expected, even after he had assured me of its superiority. Despite my family's reasonable wealth here on Earth, I was not accustomed to living extravagantly...I had never visited Earth's swankiest hotels or traveled aboard an opulent yacht. It was very apparent that this ship was not designed for your average everyday traveler. I wouldn't call it extravagant, but it was clearly meant for passengers who were accustomed to riding in luxury.

Once again, I was reminded of Aeron's stature on his home world. His unassuming demeanor just didn't match up with my preconceived ideas of high society living. Though I might have expected to feel out of place on a royal ship, its neutral tones and minimalist design with ample windows reminded me of my house. It also helped that Aeron was standing next to me, still holding my hand. I had the distinct feeling I would feel comfortable anywhere with him at my side.

"It's phenomenal," I marveled. "You were right...The space shuttle doesn't hold a candle."

"I thought you might like it," he smiled. "It has so many similarities to your house." Wow...He really did pay remarkable attention to everything.

He glanced out the window at the sun peeking up over the hilltop. "I'm afraid we're running out of daylight...We had best get started unloading the trailer." I had almost forgotten that we had left the moving trailer a short distance away, the rocky terrain too rough and winding to pull it that last stretch.

We took a shortcut footpath through the trees, allowing us to make the journey round trip in about ten minutes. We didn't have an abundance of possessions, but even so it took us several trips. Once the trailer was empty, we left it behind to distribute our belongings about the ship.

A thought occurred to me as I was setting my suitcases at the foot of my bed. "Don't I need to tie this stuff down somehow? How will it keep from sliding all over the place?"

"It's this nifty thing called artificial gravity," Aeron quipped. "It does a pretty fair job of holding everything in its place."

"No wonder I didn't see any seatbelts..." I observed musingly.

"You'll have a chance to unpack all of your things later," he remarked.

If there is a later... I kept my thoughts to myself.

As I looked around at the unexpectedly roomy quarters, I couldn't help but comment, "I kind of wish I had taken your word for it that there would be so much room. I left behind some things I wish I'd packed."

"Such as?" he wondered.

"Books, clothes, DVDs, CDs..." I listed. "By the way, will my laptop be able to get power?"

"Yes, I made a couple of adaptors when we first got here," he answered.

"Damn," I said under my breath. He cocked his head to the side, his expression puzzled. "Nothing major," I assured him. "I was just wishing I hadn't left my hair dryer behind," I shrugged. "I guess you'll have to get used to frizzy hair..."

"Somehow I think I'll manage," he teased with an adoring smile.

"Ooh!" I perked up as an idea struck me. "On the bright side...I won't have to worry about hiding my ears anymore. I can finally pull all my hair back without worrying about these ridiculous bangs! No worries now...I'll be golden." I smiled lightheartedly.

"You'll be perfect." He tucked my bangs back gently behind my ears. "Although I'm sorry you left behind some of your favorite things," he said with heartfelt thoughtfulness. "I want you to feel at home."

"I do." I nodded gently, wrapping my arms around his waist. "As long as I'm with you."

He cradled my face in his hands, much as he had done just yesterday at the medical school. It was incomprehensible that only one day had elapsed since he had professed his love for me. I felt so comfortable now in his company, I could scarcely remember the feeling of watching him timidly from afar.

He studied my eyes, trying to decipher the thoughts running through my mind. "I was just thinking how amazingly at ease I feel with you...so perfectly contented with being myself," I remarked reflectively.

"I know exactly what you mean," he concurred with a warm smile.

He carefully lifted my face to his, kissing me tenderly on the lips. As the reality of our rapidly-approaching mission entered my mind, I impulsively kissed him harder, gripping the fabric of his shirt to pull him in closer. He returned my passionate kiss, sliding his hands down my neck and then around my back to hug me tightly against his body.

I wished the moment could last forever. But as the light outside faded to black, we both knew it was time to make our way to the control bridge.

# CHAPTER 26

The four of us convened on the bridge—undeniably reluctant to take flight, considering our purpose. I realized as I felt the need to sit down that there were only three seats. Aeron apologized profusely that he would need to take the center one. I tugged gently on his shirt sleeve to usher him into the seat, assuring him that he really would not want me attempting to fly this thing. I insisted that Ewenami and Sabela take the remaining seats, positioning myself behind Aeron with my hands resting on his shoulders.

He took a few minutes to enter settings into the computer, pressing all kinds of random buttons and carrying on a conversation with the ship's computer. I tried to pay attention to his unfamiliar words, acutely aware of the fact that English would not get me anywhere on Onontí. I couldn't even pick out one word that seemed remotely familiar. I kicked myself for failing to ask my father to teach me Onontian languages. Rather than having a century to brush up on my skills, now I had three short months to learn an entire language from scratch. I hoped Aeron would be as adept at teaching as he is at absorbing new information.

In the process of finalizing his flight plan, Aeron turned to ask Sabela if she had yet determined a specific location of the enemy ship. Apparently seeing Aeron's ship firsthand had afforded her an even clearer view of our opponent—she confirmed the exact location for him. Aeron explained he would plot a course to land a distance of about twenty miles away. Though the stealth technology would hide us from the rebel ship's detection, he didn't want to take a chance of being visually identified.

His entries complete, he reached up to pat my hand on his right shoulder. "Hold on," he advised me, "this part will be a little rough." I gripped a little tighter as the floor began to vibrate beneath me, a low muffled rumbling sound emanating from somewhere below us. Aeron pressed another sequence of buttons, and slowly we began to levitate.

I could tell the moment we had cleared the ground. The floor turned still again, and the background noise trailed to an almost imperceptible hum. Gradually, we rose upward. There was just enough moonlight for me to see the tops of the trees shrinking into the distance. Once he was sure we were clear of the hills and treetops, Aeron directed the ship to rotate to the right about ninety degrees. Without further ado, we were suddenly accelerating forward.

It was a bizarre sensation. I was vaguely aware we were moving, but between the gravitational pull toward the floor and the darkness outside the windshield, it was impossible to perceive how fast—or in which direction—we were traveling. Aeron kept his eyes on the controls, but it appeared there was little need to actually press any buttons or vocalize any new commands after the first few minutes.

Once it was clear we were having an uneventful flight, Aeron suggested that the remainder of us go take a little time to rest. We would be arriving in about an hour. The three of us agreed that we were nowhere near sleep. Apparently, we would all be going into this operation poorly rested—hopefully the adrenaline would carry us through.

Aeron took his eyes off the controls for a moment to take hold of my hand, leading me around to sit on his lap. "If you're going to stubbornly refuse to go lay down, at least you can have a seat for a while," he ribbed me.

"Careful," I teased back. "You're just encouraging me to be stubborn more often." I wrapped my arm across his shoulders, kissing his temple. He took a brief second to steal a kiss from my lips, then redirected his attention back to the windshield screen—now especially vivid against the night sky backdrop.

Despite the lack of any outside scenery or decipherable information on the screen in front of me, the time passed remarkably quickly. That tends to happen when you dread the coming dawn.

As anticipated, we approached our destination just under an hour from our original departure. Aeron slowed the ship's speed, working together with Sabela to locate a discreet landing spot. I moved out of his lap to give him room to operate the controls, returning to my standing position behind his seat.

The view from the window was shrouded in darkness, but I could just make out a rim of surrounding low mountains and trees. I wondered if we would even be able to drive Dominick's vehicle out of here, but ultimately decided to trust Sabela and Aeron's judgment.

As we lowered slowly toward the ground, the vibrations and muted rumbling returned. They persisted only for a brief minute, then abruptly vanished when Aeron cut the engines. The four of us collectively heaved a sigh—not of relief—but of resignation that the dreaded hour was approaching.

We returned to the lower deck, breaking to our individual quarters to ready ourselves for the task at hand. I changed into the standard issue camouflage uniform and boots that had been Dominick's parting gift to each of us. He, of all people, had thought to stop at the military surplus store on his trip to pick up the moving trailer.

Of all the careers I had tried on for size before settling on medicine, service in the armed forces was never among them. I greatly respected those who offered their lives in service of their country, but I was admittedly a little too squeamish in the face of violence—hence the failure of my law enforcement career before it even got past the planning stages. I was reminded of the handgun stowed in its case, and I rummaged through the moving box to locate it. I made sure the safety was engaged before slipping it, along with an extra clip, into the cargo pocket on the side of my pants.

We reassembled in the central dining area, reviewing our plans once more. We would drive to within about two miles of the rebel camp, then hike the remainder of the way to a forested hillside overlooking the site. Hopefully, this would bring Ewenami close enough to gain access to their thoughts. She would have to be cautious to avoid arousing suspicion. Some people could recognize—just as I had on our first acquaintance—that someone was tampering with their mind.

She would search quickly for several key details: the location of the weapon, how many individuals constituted their team, what particular gifts they possessed, and what their current mission entailed. We would fall back in the direction of the vehicle to formulate our final strategy, then strike just as the sun was coming up. We didn't have night vision equipment, and we didn't want to take any chances of firing at Aeron as he entered or emerged from the rebel ship.

Before departing, we loaded the weapons crates into the back of the SUV, along with the backpack containing the antiviral agent. Sabela did the driving once again—she was the most capable of navigating unfamiliar territory without the need for headlights. It was an agonizingly slow drive. We were miles from the nearest road, and it wasn't exactly smooth terrain.

As much as I was dreading the fight, this slow trudge into battle was excruciating. The only saving grace was that I sat next to Aeron, his arm around me as I rested my head on his shoulder. After an eternity of bouncing and bobbling along, we finally came to a stop. Sabela cut the engine as we stepped out of the vehicle, proceeding around to the back to unpack the weapons.

Aeron handed me the gun I had practiced with to strap across my back, then gave me a smaller version to carry in my hands. He similarly armed himself, adding grenades in each of several of his pockets. Once Ewenami and Sabela were likewise prepared, we set out on our hike.

Though it was equally slow going, the hike was more bearable than the drive had been. At least I could channel my nerves into physically propelling myself forward. We climbed upward through the thick trees, eventually reaching the summit of a high hill. Though I couldn't see much of anything in the darkness, I took Sabela's word for it that we should stop here.

We crouched down and remained quiet as Ewenami dedicated her full mental focus to the unseen ship at the foot of the slope in front of us. She was remarkably efficient—three or four minutes at most passed before she whispered that we could draw back. We withdrew in the direction of our vehicle, deciding we had time to return the full distance to allow us to brainstorm without fear of being overheard. As we climbed back into the car, Ewenami began the briefing.

"There are six of them in total, but two are still in other parts of the globe," she explained, "apparently gathering data in anticipation of colonizing the planet. One of them has similar navigational abilities to Sabela. The other is the scientist who developed the biological weapon. The four remaining behind are the commanding officer and his grunts...two with exceptional strength and athletic prowess—one of them was responsible for Aeron's assault. The third can control the movement of objects from a distance; but his reach only extends to about fifty feet.

"The fourth is the leader. He is the most intelligent, and will probably be our greatest challenge. He can confuse our senses—most importantly, vision and hearing. He has to at least have some idea of his target's physical location...So it will be very important that we stay in motion."

The rest of us listened intently as she gave substance to our previously nebulous opponents. She concluded by explaining to Aeron the location of the weapon—fortunately, it was in the ship's cargo hold. Hopefully, he could be in and out quickly, while the rest of us created a diversion.

"Were you able to find out anything about their orders?" Aeron asked. "What are they sitting here waiting for?"

"It wasn't entirely clear..." She seemed puzzled. "The grunts don't seem to know exactly what their task is. They're just in a holding pattern. They spend most of their time in and around the ship, waiting for further orders. The commanding officer is the only one who knows, and his mind is very difficult to penetrate...I wasn't able to access any pertinent information. Everything I learned about him came through the minds of his subordinates." It was clear from her expression that she found this extremely annoying.

Having imparted her full knowledge to the rest of us, Ewenami handed control of the meeting over to Aeron. I was at least relieved to see that his confidence had not been rattled. He calmly and decisively began to outline the plan of attack.

He instructed the three of us to arrange ourselves in a large triangular formation looking down on the ship. We would stay as far up the hillside as possible, without compromising our line of sight to the ship through the trees. Aeron would position himself at the edge of the tree line near the cargo ramp. We would hold our positions and wait for the ship's door to open. Whoever emerged first would be the unlucky recipient of a blast from Sabela's weapon.

If the rest of the rebel soldiers emerged, Ewenami and I would join in the gunfire. We would try to stay in motion as we kept shooting from the hillside, distracting their attention away from the cargo door. Aeron would ascend the ramp, disarm the weapon, and then disappear back into the trees—hopefully all without being noticed.

If it appeared at any point that the ship was trying to take flight, Sabela would fire the bazooka into the rear engine. Apparently, it would create quite a blast. We would try to avoid it unless necessary, our aim being to keep this altercation discreet from human notice. If my family was to stay behind on Earth, they certainly didn't need an outbreak of public hysteria at the discovery of an alien ship exploding into flames in the middle of the Rocky Mountains.

Ewenami would do her best to confuse the rebel soldiers by interfering with their thoughts. Unfortunately, it appeared that at least one of them would be relatively immune to her intrusion. I would be at the position nearest the cargo ramp, providing cover fire as Aeron emerged. Then we would all run like hell back to the SUV.

Once we all felt comfortable with the plan—or at least comfortable that we understood the plan—we stepped out of the car to grab a few more weapons from the boxes in the rear.

Sabela strapped the bazooka to her back, and Aeron looped the backpack containing the antiviral agent around his shoulders. Sabela and Ewenami nonchalantly moved around to the front of the car to leave Aeron and me alone at the back.

Once he had closed the rear hatch, he reached out in the darkness to take hold of my arms, pulling me in for a tender hug. "Promise me you'll keep yourself safe," he whispered pleadingly in my ear.

"I will do my best..." I tried to sound convincing, "but I'm going to do everything in my power to get you out of there safely too."

"Don't you dare do anything reckless." His tone was hushed but commanding. "I don't care what happens...You look out for yourself first."

"Please, Aeron," I whispered with quiet desperation. "Please just let me be useful," I begged him earnestly. "Everyone else here has a purpose...Ewenami is gathering intelligence and crippling their minds...and without Sabela, we would never have found this place," I detailed. "And you are—"

His fingertips pressed gently against my lips to silence me mid-sentence.

"I am as aware tonight as I have been for weeks that—were it not for you—I would be dead," he declared solemnly. "Without you, we definitely would not have made it to this point." His voice softened as his fingertips delicately traced my lips. "So please don't get yourself hurt trying to prove your worth...You're already worth everything in the world to me."

I nestled into his arms as he pulled me in, hugging me tightly against his chest. After a moment's pause, I lifted my head in an attempt to meet his eyes—I could barely make out his face in the darkness. I reached up to study the contour of his cheek with my fingertips, as he leaned in to meet my lips.

There was desperation in his kiss. Although I was entranced by his lips on mine as we embraced, a thought nagged at the back of my mind. I couldn't help but wonder which of us he feared wouldn't be coming out of this mission alive.

# CHAPTER 27

I was disconcerted to realize that dawn was fast approaching. We assembled at the front of the vehicle to retrace our steps up the hill. The sun was not yet beginning to show, so I followed Sabela as she led the way through the darkness. Aeron stayed close beside me, with Ewenami bringing up the rear.

We reached the summit just as the sun was beginning to cast a vague glow over the hills to the east. Sabela stopped to hug me tightly, then turned without a word and disappeared into the trees to our left.

Ewenami gave Aeron a similar hug, then turned to face me. I felt a twinge of guilt remembering how much I had despised her on first sight. In a few short days, I had truly come to view her as a second sister. It was evident from her warm hug that she felt the same way about me. She too remained silent, as she turned to make her descent straight down the forested slope in front of us.

My heart racing and stomach swarming with butterflies, I reached out to find Aeron's hand. As his fingers intertwined with mine, he reached his other hand up to the back of my neck, pulling me in to press his forehead against mine.

I took a slow breath in, knowing without the need for words what he was asking for...my promise that I would stay alive, come what may. I nodded my head subtly in acquiescence. As I did, his eager lips found mine. His fingers gripped tightly at the nape of my neck as he kissed me urgently—as though it would be our last.

I fought the overwhelming impulse to beg him to call the mission off—to take our families and run, leaving Earth far behind. I knew we would never be able to live with ourselves if we left an entire species to die; but I trembled with sheer terror at the thought of losing any one of our group...especially Aeron.

The thought of my own death, however, was far less frightening. In a way, it was a source of calm for my panicking mind. Death was certainly preferable to another one or two centuries of mourning in loneliness. Don't get me wrong, I'd had a good life—a comfortable home, a family that loved me...But until now, I'd never really known the kind of love you read about in novels. That kind of all-consuming desire for one person was what I had craved all my life, and at last I had it. One electrifying touch from Aeron was better than any romantic movie scene I'd ever witnessed. And I would give up a million years of monotonous existence to have one more day with him.

I resolved in that moment to break my promise to him. If he fell into enemy hands, I would unquestionably give my life in an attempt—no matter how feeble—to save him.

This morbid pact I made with myself had a bizarre way of easing my nerves. I was no longer quivering with fear. My heart, however, was still racing from the surge of adrenaline that flowed as Aeron kissed feverishly down the side of my neck. Having found my resolve, I was able to surrender entirely to the moment and savor the sensation of his hungry lips on my skin.

I tilted my head back as he moved to the other side of my neck, working his way back up toward my jaw. I opened my mouth to catch my breath, choking back a moan. He weaved his fingers through my upswept hair as he kissed my open mouth ravenously. The butterflies in my stomach returned, this time from the exhilaration of intense arousal.

He was kissing me without restraint, his composed refinement giving way to primal desire. I had the distinct impression that—were it not for our current location—we would already have our clothes off. I found myself wondering whether we would ever have our chance, as I pressed my body firmly against his.

As my mind wandered, it brought me around to the realization that our surroundings were becoming increasingly visible in the mounting light of the sunrise. Aeron seemed to come to the same awareness as he reluctantly calmed himself, placing a last few lingering kisses on my lips. As he began to pull away, I tucked my lower lip in, not wanting to relinquish the taste of him.

He sighed as he stroked the side of my cheek, his other hand still squeezing mine tightly. He kissed my forehead lightly, then released his grip and stepped back as he turned to his right. I watched in silent despair as he disappeared into the trees ahead of me.

I followed a trajectory slightly to the left of his, angling my way down the hillside. The sun was beginning to cast its light on the large ship that filled the clearing at the base of the hill. As Sabela had predicted, the cargo door was facing southward—it appeared to be sealed closed.

I positioned myself on the sloping hillside, aligned with the ship's rear arm on this side of the cargo door. Aeron would be reaching the south side of the ship soon, poising himself just behind the tree line. I checked my weapons as I crouched behind a tree trunk and waited.

There were two vehicles—a sedan and a pickup truck—parked just off to the northwest side of the ship. Our hill curved around in front of them. Sabela would be positioned there, attempting to draw the rebels out and away from the cargo ramp. Ewenami would be situated between Sabela's position and mine.

I peered down at the ship, its outline familiar to me. Though it was identical in shape and size to Aeron's ship, its appearance was fittingly foreboding. As the sun's rays began to fall on the hull, it became clear that it was not the same luminescent off-white tone of Aeron's ship. It bore a closer resemblance to battleship grey. I found myself wondering if the interior was just a hollowed-out version of Aeron's posh ship. I considered whether the shortcuts would be due to lack of funds or sufficient time.

I expected to wait for an eternity to see any activity, but it was a matter of minutes after sunrise that the ship's door cracked open, slowly lowering toward the ground to form the wide cargo ramp. Soon after, two men began to casually descend the ramp. They wore nondescript human clothing—blue jeans and T-shirts—with one conspicuous accessory...There were guns strapped across their backs that bore a remarkable resemblance to ours.

I raised the weapon in my hands, sorely tempted to open fire. I stayed my hand, knowing that an opening shot from my angle would likely prompt them to retreat back into the ship. They made their way to the ground, turning to head toward the pickup truck. Were it not for the guns, they would look like two regular working-class guys on their way to pick up breakfast before starting their day. Judging from their muscle-bound frames, I surmised they were the athletically gifted pair. Ewenami had mentioned that one of them was responsible for Aeron's assault. I wondered which one, as the temptation to fire almost overpowered me.

Just as they reached the truck, pulling open the doors on either side, the driver's side window shattered in a flash of blue. The man who had been standing behind it was now sprawled lifelessly on the ground.

One down, three to go...I thought to myself, as I fought back the urge to cheer for my big sis.

The commotion certainly got the attention of the second rebel soldier. He crouched behind the passenger door as he reached for his gun. I looked quickly to the northerly hillside, searching for any sign of Sabela. With relief, I saw nothing but a sea of trees.

The soldier began shouting, calling for backup—evidently a third soldier was within earshot in the cargo bay. He scurried quickly down the ramp, rounding the corner to see his comrade firing toward the distant hillside, in the direction of Sabela's position. I hoped beyond hope she had already moved on.

The third soldier was not anywhere near as large as the first two, but he moved quickly. He bolted toward the sedan parked beside the truck, nearer the ship. He carried a gun in one hand, his other hand outstretched toward the car in front of him. I realized as the door flung open of its own accord that he was the one who could move distant objects.

As he darted for the vehicle, a shot rang out from the hillside to the west—Ewenami's position. Unfortunately, her view was probably obscured by the pickup truck. It was a narrow miss. I was desperate to fire, but we had agreed that I would wait until Aeron had ascended the ramp. My position was too close to that side of the ship and would risk drawing their attention toward Aeron.

Each of the two rebel soldiers was now positioned behind their respective vehicle, firing randomly into the hillside trees. I could only breathe when I saw more blue flashes emanating from various points about the hillside. At one point, the burly soldier lowered his weapon, turning it over confusedly in his hands. Clearly Ewenami was having an influence over him. It didn't last long, as his comrade shouted what I gathered amounted to a string of expletives at him. I hoped that Ewenami would focus the bulk of her attention on varying her position rather than infiltrating their minds...The way they were firing randomly into the forest had me anxiously holding my breath.

As the gunfight ensued, I repeatedly darted my eyes back and forth between the action and the cargo ramp—watching for Aeron. The fourth rebel—presumably the commanding officer—was still inside the ship. I wanted this to be over quickly, but I certainly didn't want Aeron entering the ship with his position unknown.

I watched for a moment as the athletic soldier once again dropped his weapon. Unfortunately it again was short-lived, and neither Sabela nor Ewenami would have the ideal angle to fire on him from their positions. I shifted my eyes back to the cargo ramp once again, and my heart leapt into my throat at the sight of Aeron charging up it.

Before I could think how to react, he was into the cargo hold and out of my view. I panicked, beginning to run around to the south to try to get a view into the cargo hold. As I searched for a vantage point, my eyes caught sight of the upper dome of the ship. Just visible through the windshield was a man, leaning forward against the glass as he searched the hillside for the unseen enemy.

I instinctively aimed my weapon and fired, knowing as I did that it was unlikely to have much effect. The blue flash dissipated as it made contact with the windshield. It got his attention...He turned his head sharply to look in my direction.

Remembering his unsettling power—the ability to dull the senses—I quickly made a dash for a boulder about twenty feet ahead of me. I made it all of three steps before my vision suddenly began to fade, as though I was about to pass out. But strangely, I didn't feel at all lightheaded.

I realized as the sound of the gunfight grew too faint to make out that I was in the clutches of his control. I dove for the ground, crawling as fast as I could in the direction of the boulder. As my hands made contact with the cool stone, I gripped it tightly, suddenly feeling as though the ground was listing and threatening to spill me down the hillside. He was interfering with my equilibrium—an effect I hadn't anticipated.

I fought against the churning seasick feeling in my stomach as I clung to the rock. I knew full well that the ground wasn't actually moving, but I couldn't risk relinquishing my grip. He had me trapped in a pitch dark, silent prison cell, and the boulder was my only tie to my physical surroundings. As I dug my fingers into the rock, I clung to the desperate belief that as long as he was plaguing me, he would be distracted from Aeron.

The seconds dragged on unbearably as I had no idea what was taking place outside my own personal hell. I tried to bide my time, thinking at least I was helping Aeron.

Then the thought occurred to me...What if he could do this to more than one person at a time? Maybe I wasn't helping Aeron as much as I'd thought. What if he was trapped in this same agony? He would be a sitting duck alone in the cargo hold.

I pulled myself up to my knees, feeling my way around to the front of the boulder, my head still spinning with vertigo. I made the split-second decision to let go of the boulder, as I began tumbling down the hillside, ricocheting off trees as I went.

If I emerge from the forest, I'm toast...but at least I'll be a colossal distraction, I thought as I steeled myself.

As I picked up speed, careening down the hillside, I became aware that the sound of my body thudding into the brush and trees was actually discernible. A brief moment later, I began to notice flashes of light as my eyes regained their sight. Evidently the rebel officer hadn't anticipated my rapid descent, and thus lost his grip on me.

Either that...or he'd found a new target.

I stretched out my arms, grappling frantically for something to stop my fall. I dug my feet into the ground as my fingertips took hold of the earth beneath me. I stopped to catch my breath, too full of adrenaline to take much notice of the scrapes and bruises that surely covered my body.

The sound of the gunfight was still ringing out in the clearing, as I looked around to verify that I was still concealed among the trees. I found my footing, then promptly landed back on my face, as I realized the vertigo had not subsided. I did a double take to make sure my vision and hearing were still intact. Apparently, it was the fall down the hillside that was responsible for the persisting disorientation.

I took a deep breath and pushed myself back up to my feet, refusing to acknowledge the spinning sensation in my head. I charged forward through the forest, heading for the south end of the ship. I had dropped my smaller weapon in the melee, but the larger gun was still strapped to my back. I pulled it around to grip in my hands as I kept running.

Along the way, I glanced over to the two parked vehicles. Though they were quite battered, they were still serving as adequate shields for the two rebel soldiers. I came to a stop, aiming my weapon at the hulking soldier crouching behind the passenger door of the pickup. I debated whether to risk taking a shot, knowing I would draw their attention in the wrong direction. I decided it was a moot point, with the commanding officer obviously well aware of my general position. I fired—but apparently, I was still too disoriented. I scowled in frustration as the blast hit a good foot away from the soldier. Thankfully, he was too distracted to even notice.

Suddenly my vision was going foggy again. Whether it was from the flash of the gun's discharge or the effect of the rebel officer numbing my senses was uncertain. Just in case, I reached for the pistol in my pocket as I took off running.

As the cargo ramp came into better view, I searched feverishly for any sign of Aeron. Part of me hoped he was already out of the ship, but I had to assume he was still inside. I hoped my eyes weren't deceiving me as I caught sight of a glorious vision...Aeron was descending the ramp.

I watched with elation as he sprinted toward the trees. I began running in that direction, eager to meet him there. He was halfway to the tree line when, to my horror, he suddenly lurched forward. His feet came out from under him as he slammed face first into the ground.

A bloodcurdling scream—my own devastated cry—reverberated in my ears, as I froze in my tracks. My chest burned with the hollow feeling that the wind had been knocked out of me.

Just as my mind began a hysterical downward spiral, there was a glimmer of hope as I realized that Aeron was still moving—or at least attempting to move. He was straining with all his might to pull himself forward, clawing at the ground; but he wasn't getting anywhere.

I scanned his body and saw no signs that he had actually been wounded by gunfire. My eyes flashed up to the domed windshield, but the commanding officer was nowhere in sight. He didn't appear to be in the cargo hold either. I impulsively looked toward the other two soldiers, and suddenly it became clear...The muscular soldier was still involved in the gunfight; but his accomplice was looking directly at Aeron, his arm outstretched.

He wore a twisted look of evil satisfaction as he watched Aeron struggle in vain to get to his feet. The soldier quickly tired of the game, raising his weapon to take aim.

I wasn't about to give him the satisfaction.

Without pausing to think, I pointed my pistol and pulled the trigger. There was no flashy fanfare—but the bullet between his eyes did the job succinctly.

# CHAPTER 28

I tried not to look at the stream of orange that trickled down the rebel soldier's face as he fell to the ground. I was used to saving lives, not taking them—yet I couldn't deny the intense relief I felt as I looked at his unmoving body.

After a brief moment of contemplation, I looked back over to Aeron's position. He was already on his feet, in a full sprint toward the forest. I ran as fast as my legs could carry me to intersect his course within the tree cover. As I ran, I looked up once more to check for the commanding officer...He was nowhere to be seen.

I almost collided with Aeron as he appeared behind a large tree trunk. I put on the brakes, grabbing hold of his shirt front to steady myself. His hands gripped the sides of my waist to catch me as we both gasped for air, more from the extreme stress than the actual exertion. He pulled me in, pressing his lips to my forehead as he deeply inhaled the scent of my hair.

"Let's get out of here," he said quickly as he took hold of my hand.

He led the way through the forest, dodging trees and rocks as he surged ahead at a full run. I held pace with him, keeping an iron grip on his hand. My pistol was at the ready in my other hand. As the sounds of gunfire in the background died down, I inferred that Sabela and Ewenami had also seen Aeron escape and were making their retreat.

The forest was too dense to see either one of them yet. Between my ragged breathing and the pounding of our footsteps on the ground, I couldn't make out any sounds of our sisters either. A moment of panic struck as I wondered whether the gunfire had ceased for other reasons. I stayed right on Aeron's heels, impatient to get to the other side of the hill. The SUV was parked too far away to use as a meeting point—we were supposed to stop at the foot of this hill and regroup.

Ewenami had the shortest distance to travel. With intense relief, I caught a glimpse of her running up ahead of us. My sister's position had been farther away, so I tried not to worry when I couldn't find her. Aeron and I began gaining on Ewenami. She looked over her shoulder and slowed her pace as we came up behind her. We came to a stop among the trees at the base of the hill, panting to catch our breath.

I immediately spun around to search the upsloping hillside for Sabela. I tried to quiet my breathing, perking my ears for any sound of her footsteps. Aeron stood behind me, his hands resting on my shoulders.

"Come on..." I muttered under my breath as my eyes darted frantically about the forest. "Please, please, please..." I tried not to fall apart in the mounting panic.

"She's out there, Palta," Ewenami spoke calmly. "She's on her way."

I sighed with relief, knowing I could trust Ewenami's senses. Yet I kept up my frantic search, wanting to see Sabela with my own eyes.

Aeron's voice was soothing as he wrapped his arms around me from behind. "She will find us, Palta," he spoke softly in my ear. "She knows our exact position better than we do."

"My mind knows that..." I replied breathlessly, keeping my eyes on the forest. "But my heart won't stop racing until I see her."

I was contemplating rushing back up the hill when my straining ears finally made out the sound of swift footsteps. I looked in the direction of the sound to see Sabela racing toward us. I leaped forward, catching her in my arms with a tight squeeze. We stumbled around, hugging each other tightly, as we burst into giddy laughter.

After giving us a moment to rejoice, Aeron patted me on the back with a gentle reminder that we needed to keep moving. We were back in motion, speeding in the direction of our vehicle. I could run faster than Sabela, but I followed her lead, having only a vague idea where we were parked. I thanked my lucky stars for my physical fitness as we kept up the constant run, snaking around the trees and boulders.

Eventually I caught sight of Dominick's SUV off in the distance, and I picked up the pace. I could hear Aeron right behind me as I pressed forward with all my energy. We made it to the vehicle, jumping in as Sabela put the keys in the ignition. Ewenami took the passenger seat as Aeron and I clambered into the backseat.

Suddenly there was a thunderous roaring sound that seemed to rattle the whole vehicle. It wasn't the engine revving—it was coming from outside the car. The sky was too clear for a thunderstorm, but it seemed to be coming from above.

We all simultaneously fixed our eyes on the front windshield as a stone grey ship was rising above the hills. Sabela hastily started the engine, throwing the car into reverse as she stomped on the gas. It proved unnecessary, as the ship abruptly departed toward the south, vanishing into the distant skies in the blink of an eye.

Sabela came to a stop as we all looked to Aeron for guidance. "Keep going," he nodded to Sabela. "Head for the airport."

She made a quick turnaround and set a course for the nearest road. She wove deftly between trees, around rocks, and across little streams. Though it seemed we were wandering aimlessly through the wilderness, I never doubted she would eventually get us exactly where we were supposed to go.

Once I'd caught my breath, I turned to Aeron. "Just to be clear...You did deactivate the weapon, didn't you?" I hated to sound impertinent, but the thought of that ship floating around with a live weapon of mass destruction was a tad unsettling.

"Yes," he confirmed with a nod. "At least I hope so..."

"Um...You and me both." I wrinkled my forehead. I stayed quiet for a moment as I considered his answer. I ultimately couldn't help myself from blurting out, "Okay, you're kind of freaking me out with that whole uncertainty thing..."

"I know," he squeezed my hand. "I'm kind of freaking myself out too." I immediately regretted my statement at the sight of his rueful expression. "I'm as certain as I can be that I disabled it." He stared at the floorboard, lost in introspection. He seemed to be disappointed with himself as he began to doubt his own reliability.

I reached up to touch his cheek, turning his head to face me. I stared confidently into his despondent eyes. "If that thing is still active, it's because it was indestructible," I asserted, "not because you somehow failed us." I gently traced his furrowed brow with my fingertips, then returned my palm to the side of his cheek, stroking lightly with my thumb. "I guarantee there would not have been a better man for the job."

His expression lightened a little—I could tell it was for my benefit, rather than a true acceptance of my reassurance. I stroked his cheek with my thumb again. He closed his eyes, tilting his head into my palm to rest there for a moment.

He eventually took a deep breath, then opened his eyes. This time he seemed to be legitimately at peace as he smiled faintly. I responded with a contented smile, growing increasingly conscious of the miraculous fact that we had made it out alive. I leaned forward to steal a tender kiss.

As I contemplated our unexpected victory in disarming the weapon, my thoughts returned to the remaining enemy soldiers. I tried to keep my expression calm, but Aeron recognized the look of a brewing question in my mind. "Something else is bothering you," he studied my eyes thoughtfully. "What is it?"

I hesitated, debating whether to brush it aside. His eyes implored me to be forthcoming. With a sigh, I relented. "Should we be worried that the rebel ship might turn up at any moment and wipe us out?"

His expression confirmed that I wasn't the only one with that concern. He paused to consider his answer, then reached up to gently sweep my bangs across my forehead. "I'm not sure why they chose to ignore us," he quietly deliberated. "If their intention had been to pursue us, we would have made an easy target. It's possible they went to retrieve the remaining members of their team."

"That's exactly what I was suspecting," I nodded slowly. "And clearly not a comforting prospect."

"No, but it gives us time..." He stroked my arms soothingly as he reassured me, "We've done our best to protect humankind, now let's focus on getting Sabela safely to the airport to rejoin your family. Then we'll make a beeline for our ship and get in the air as quickly as possible."

I tried to put on a confident face, but I couldn't completely smooth the worried crease from my forehead. Aeron reached up to gently trace it with his thumb. "I promise you, Palta," he vowed with unflinching eyes, "I will get you safely off this planet."

After basking in his calming green eyes for a minute, I resolved to push my worries to the back of my mind and be thankful we were still in one piece—at least for the moment. I turned to tap Sabela on the shoulder. "I think we could all use a distraction," I observed. "Does Dominick have anything decent in the CD player?"

She smiled lightheartedly as she looked at me in the rearview mirror. "What do you think?" We both giggled as we thought of Dominick's pitiful taste in music.

"I don't know what I was thinking," I snickered. "Tell me you have something to listen to...I doubt we'll get anything tolerable on the radio out here."

"Never fear," she winked. "I've been working on enlightening him..." She powered up the CD player, turning up the volume. I recognized immediately the opening track of one of our favorite albums. I nodded in approval as I shifted back to rest my head against Aeron's shoulder.

"Don't let me fall asleep," I tilted my head to appeal to him.

"Why not?" His expression was puzzled as he combed his fingers lightly through my hair.

"Because I really don't want to dream right now," I admitted weakly as I snuggled up against him. I stared off into space, mouthing the words to the music as he kept caressing my hair.

In due course, we came across the road. Sabela turned onto it, heading in the direction of Kalispell—the nearest city with a commercial airport. Suddenly the time seemed to be passing too fast, as I realized we were about to put her on a plane and go our separate ways.

I sat back up again, leaning forward to petition her, "Are you sure we couldn't convince Father to come with us? Then you and Dominick wouldn't have to stay behind..."

"When have we ever succeeded in convincing Father of anything he doesn't want to do?" She raised an eyebrow. "He's as stubborn as you are," she teased. "Besides, I don't want to put Dominick in the position of being the odd man out on a foreign planet."

"Somehow I'm not surprised you'd rather be the martyr," I smirked as I shook my head reproachfully. I wouldn't have dared to say it, but she knew what I was thinking. Eventually Father and Dominick would be gone, leaving her behind as the sole outsider in a foreign land.

"Maybe someday you can come back for a visit," she imagined. "Once things settle down."

"We can always hope..." I tried to be optimistic as I reached up to pat her shoulder.

We made our way to Glacier Park International Airport, parking the car so we could all accompany Sabela inside. There was a flight leaving for Salt Lake City in about two hours, then she could pick up a connecting flight to Albuquerque without much of a layover. Sabela purchased her ticket, then called Dominick to let him know when she would be on her way. I wanted to stay and wait with her, but she insisted we get back on the road.

"I'll be safe here," she tried to convince me. "I'm not the target..."

I hated to admit it, but she had a point. "I have to believe I'll see you again someday," I whimpered as I wrapped my arms around her neck to hug her tightly.

As I stepped back, I caught sight of a scrape on her forehead, partially hidden by her bangs. I reached up to press my fingers to it. "Thanks, Palta," she smiled as all traces of the abrasion melted away. "I guess from now on, I'll actually have to keep a first aid kit on hand." It had never been necessary, despite all our outdoor sports.

I was filled with remorse at the realization that I wasn't just saying goodbye, I was leaving my family vulnerable. I knew they could survive the minor cuts and bruises, but it was the more serious illnesses I was worried about. I couldn't reverse the natural aging process, but diseases and injuries had never been a source of concern before...I shuddered at the thought that one of my loved ones might fall victim to something I could have prevented.

Sensing I was waffling, Sabela stepped back with a goodbye wave. "Get going...You'll miss your flight," she quipped with an endearing smile.

I blew her a quick kiss as Aeron wrapped his arm around my waist, intuitively aware that I needed someone to lean on. Sabela watched as we turned to go. I checked over my shoulder a few times, not quite ready to accept that I'd seen the last of her. When we'd passed out of visual range, I leaned my head against Aeron's shoulder. I fought back the tears in my exhausted eyes, as we made our way back to the parking lot.

# CHAPTER 29

Aeron took the driver's seat. I had to trust that he would know how to get us back to the ship—I certainly had no idea where to find it. Ewenami offered me the passenger seat as she climbed in the back. I did recognize that we seemed to be retracing our steps, heading back along the same highway we had used to reach the airport. I leaned my head back against the headrest, closing my eyes as I listened to the music.

The next thing I knew, I was awakening to the bouncing and jolting of the vehicle as we were back to driving through the boondocks, no road in sight. The view was incredibly beautiful—green hills and rugged mountains. I daydreamed as I looked out the window, wondering if Onontí could possibly be this beautiful.

"I'm glad you caught a little rest." Aeron reached over to take hold of my hand. "I know you're exhausted."

"So are you," I reminded him. "When are you going to get some sleep?"

"Eventually," he shrugged. "When I've got you safely in the air." He glanced over to meet my eyes momentarily, then returned his attention to the driving.

I turned his hand over in mine, noticing his knuckles were covered in little scrapes and scratches. I traced my fingertips over each one, restoring his smooth skin to perfection.

"Don't worry about those," he admonished me. "You shouldn't be wasting your strength on me."

I made a show of rolling my eyes. "You think I have something better to be doing?"

He chuckled softly, interlacing his fingers with mine. "Just don't expend any energy unnecessarily..." He tried not to sound overly serious. "Just in case."

My thoughts returned to the ominous grey ship, whereabouts unknown. I looked back out my window, trying to appreciate the scenery as I listened to the same CD we'd now heard several times. I turned back to face Aeron as it dawned on me that he probably wasn't as into the music as I was.

"Are you getting sick of these same songs?" I asked apologetically. "I can try to find something on the radio...Or we can just turn it off," I offered.

"No, I like the diversion." He seemed to be speaking truthfully. "I'll let you know if I get sick of it." His warm smile told me that he wouldn't speak up until my interest burned out. Granted, I would certainly have liked some variety in the soundtrack—but my stress level was always more bearable with background music.

I glanced to the backseat, where Ewenami was dozing silently. I returned to my reverie as I looked out the window, comparing the current view to my mother's paintings of Onontí.

We kept bobbling along steadily, and eventually Ewenami perked up. Aeron relayed that we were getting close to the ship—it was just on the other side of the approaching hill. He traced a tight path through the trees around the base of the hill, then turned to the right to follow a small stream running through a narrow grassy valley.

Up ahead, I could see the dome of the ship just peeking above a cluster of trees. I was a little surprised at how relieved I was to see it—like I was returning home after a long journey. The trees started to thin out a bit as we approached, bringing the rest of the ship into clearer view.

Suddenly, Aeron gripped my hand tightly as he abruptly slammed on the brakes. I braced myself against the dashboard, then followed his wide-eyed gaze and immediately understood the reason for his alarmed expression. Parked next to the ship was a pickup truck—it was a nondescript beige color, but I would have recognized it anywhere. The shattered windows and blast marks peppering the paint job told me I wasn't mistaken. I gasped as I realized the burly soldier was sitting in the driver's seat.

Aeron threw it in reverse, whipping us around as he floored it back in the direction we had come. I turned to look behind us, terrified—but not surprised—to see the pickup truck following us, gaining speed. I opened the center console to pull out the handgun I'd stowed inside before entering the airport.

"Whatever you have to do," I urged Aeron. "Just get us the hell out of here."

Without a second thought, I climbed between the seats and met Ewenami in the far back of the SUV. She had already opened one of the weapons crates and pulled out a selection of guns.

I shrieked involuntarily as the back windshield suddenly shattered—thankfully, the shot must have hit between Ewenami and me. We crouched down, pushing one of the crates against the rear hatch, shielding ourselves behind it. Aeron was keeping us ahead of the pickup, but the rebel soldier was close on our tail. He was firing through his blown-apart front windshield as he drove. I traded my pistol for one of the larger guns, trying to avoid the blinding flash as I fired as rapidly as I could. For all the damage they had done to our practice targets, these fancy guns just didn't seem to be wreaking the havoc on the truck that I was hoping for.

Over all the commotion, I heard Aeron shout for us to hold on. I braced myself in a crouched position as he made a hard turn, the car bouncing violently—it felt like we were driving off a short cliff. As he sped forward, I pulled myself up to resume the gunfight. Ewenami did the same alongside me, as the pickup followed us over the ledge.

We kept up the volley as the helter-skelter ride continued through the grassy vale. I was becoming increasingly irritated with my inability to accurately hit one man following closely behind us. But firing without being fired upon was harder than it looks in the movies. Not to mention the fact that every time his gun discharged, I had to divert my eyes or be transiently blinded by the flash. I was liking this newfangled weaponry less and less by the minute.

As my patience wore thin, I reached into the weapons crate to fish out one of the grenades. I gave Ewenami a questioning look. She nodded in approval—evidently she was as exasperated as I was, and neither one of us cared if we created an attention-grabbing fiery blast at this point. She provided cover fire as I rose up on my knees, channeling my inner Nolan Ryan to hurl the grenade through the gaping front windshield of the pickup.

The truck slowed its speed, as a quizzical expression crossed the driver's face. I looked over to Ewenami, whose gaze was intently focused on the brawny soldier. I felt a miniscule twinge of pity for the man. He was about to depart this world, and his brain was too befuddled to even realize it.

My sympathetic thoughts were interrupted by the earsplitting blast that rang out in the valley, as flaming billows began streaming from the windows of the stalled pickup truck.

Aeron continued driving another thirty yards before he eased up on the gas and slowed to a stop. Ewenami and I sat up to stare at the pickup truck, now completely engulfed in flames. I still wasn't a fan of the futuristic weapons in general, but the grenades were finding favor with me.

We sat watching in silence as the fire raged, panting to catch our breath. "I think the coast is clear," I concluded once I was satisfied that no one could have survived the inferno. "It looks like we can head back to the—"

Before I could utter the word "ship", a massive explosion erupted in the distance, the force of it shaking our vehicle. It was coming from well beyond the location of the burning pickup truck, and the rising cloud of smoke dwarfed the former blaze.

So much for discretion, I thought to myself as I gaped at the towering cloud of black soot and embers. And so much for seeing Onontí...

Ewenami broke into sobs beside me as she watched her only means of returning home go up in flames. I pulled her toward me gently to cry on my shoulder. I didn't try to stop her tears, knowing her heart was breaking—she would never see home or the man she loved again.

Aeron crawled through the car to join us in the cramped cargo area. He knelt beside us, putting an arm around each of us as Ewenami wept and I stared at the devastated ship in disbelief. He silently held us for a minute, respecting Ewenami's grief. Then he leaned over to whisper gently in her ear. She nodded in assent as she began wiping her eyes dry. I gathered he was recommending that we clear the area before anyone else—human or otherwise—arrived on the scene.

We scurried back into our seats as Aeron steered in the direction of the nearest road. As soon as we were in cell phone range, I dialed Sabela. It went straight to voicemail—evidently she was still in the air. I left her a quick message to call me ASAP, then moved on to tracking down a car rental agency in Great Falls. We would be way too conspicuous in the battered SUV. If we were pulled over, Ewenami could always confound the officer's memory; but it would be preferable to avoid an incident altogether. Not to mention, we didn't know if the rest of the rebels were on our track...Regardless, a change of vehicle would probably be wise.

I made the arrangements, then used my phone to locate a reasonable place within short distance of the rental agency to dump Dominick's SUV. I fumbled with the GPS that I rarely had use for—Sabela was like my own personal GPS.

We pulled a few smaller weapons out of the cargo crates, then stopped momentarily to ditch the crates in an empty creek bed before we reached the main road. Aeron followed my directions when we entered the city, working our way to a park on the riverside. He backed the car into a parking space under some trees, then we grabbed our things and walked swiftly to the nearest bus stop. I made a mental note to have Sabela report the vehicle stolen when she called me back.

It felt like it was taking an eternity, but before long we were pulling away from the rental agency in a shiny new SUV—I had gone for durability rather than fuel economy, under the circumstances. I had tried to convince Aeron to let me drive, but he insisted I needed to keep trying to reach Sabela.

Actually, he had suggested I call my father...a proposition I shot down instantly. Yes, he would have to find out about all of this before too long—chances were, we would all be fleeing the country by morning—but I needed Sabela's help to formulate a plan. Father would probably resist going anywhere, but there was no question we needed to relocate.

If the remaining rebel soldiers weren't enough of a concern, the impending headlines about an alien ship found blazing in the Montana Rockies would certainly make life uncomfortable. Judging from the size of the inferno, I doubted any information identifying us specifically would survive. All the same, I didn't want to sit around to find out who would come looking for us first.

It was late afternoon, and we were heading south on I-15—making our way back to New Mexico via Idaho and Utah—when the call finally came from Sabela. I answered, ready to reprimand her for taking so long to turn her phone back on. I stopped in my tracks at the sound of her panic-stricken voice.

"Palta!" She seemed to be beside herself with worry.

"Calm down, Sabela," I reassured her. "We're still okay, it's just—"

"He's gone, Palta," she cut me off mid-sentence, her voice still shaking with distress. "I don't know what to do!" It was the most frantic I had ever heard her.

"Who's gone?" I tried to make sense of her hysterics.

"Father..." She was trying to will herself to coherence as she took a deep breath to continue. "They took him..."

# CHAPTER 30

I didn't need clarification to know who "they" were...

All this time spent wondering where the rebel ship had disappeared to, and this was the answer I had not seen coming. I froze for a long moment, unable to find any words as I absorbed the devastating blow.

Aeron was becoming concerned at my traumatized expression, but I couldn't even explain it to him in my shock. I started to come around as I processed Sabela's exact words..."They took him." It suggested that—at least for the moment—he was still alive.

Finally, I found my voice again. "Are you saying they kidnapped him?" I asked guardedly. "Where did they take him?"

"I don't know," came her bewildered reply.

My heart sank as I grasped the significance of her answer. Though it would be the expected response from any normal person in this situation, Sabela wasn't "normal". With someone as dear to her as Father, she should be able to track him down anywhere on the planet...Which meant he wasn't on the planet.

"Are you saying they left?" I knew it was precisely what she was saying, but I couldn't bring myself to believe it.

"I can't sense him anywhere," she replied dismally. "And I have to hope it's because he's left Earth, not because he's really gone..."

"Can you sense if their ship is still here?" I prompted.

"No..." she verified. "That's at least promising. Maybe we can go after them," she proposed with a vague hint of hope.

My stomach churned as I realized I hadn't had a chance to fill her in on my side of the story. "No...We can't," I replied bleakly. "We don't have a ship."

"What?..." came her expectedly puzzled reaction.

I elaborated on my response to bring her up to speed. There was a prolonged silence, then at length she spoke again. "We still have another option..."

I knew where she was going with that, but I didn't see how it was a valid alternative. "Father's ship?" The skepticism was heavy in my voice. "It hasn't been touched in over a century."

"I suspect it has," she contested.

"What makes you say that?" I was at least intrigued.

"When Father was helping me find the enemy ship," she explained. "He had to tell me the location of his own ship to keep me from confusing it with my target. He kept it in Utah...He didn't sell all of his property there."

"Even so," I came back, still unconvinced. "What makes you think he kept it in working order?"

"I was curious how he knew it was still where he'd left it—that it was still untouched," she continued. "Apparently every time you and I go out of town for a few days, he goes up there to check on it...I gave him a hard time about gallivanting off without telling us, but he dismissed it and changed the subject on me. At the time, I wasn't thinking we would have any use for it."

"Where exactly in Utah is it?" My doubts gave way to desperate hope. "Can you give me detailed directions? And how soon can you and Dominick get on the road?"

"It's not too far from where we lived," she described. "I'll type something up quickly and e-mail it to you. It will take you twice as long to get there, so Dom and I have plenty of time. We'll start packing up and meet you there." Her voice had become much more self-assured at the transition to planning mode, as opposed to idle panic. I identified with the feeling.

"Keep me posted on your progress," I wrapped up. "I'll see you in Utah..."

I hung up the phone to meet Aeron and Ewenami's anxious expressions. I tried to keep calm as I reported the crushing news about my father. I moved on promptly to the plan of action, checking my phone for Sabela's e-mailed directions.

Aeron was clearly worried for me, having seen the devastation on my face during my phone conversation. I reassured him that I would be fine, as long as I felt like we had a fighting chance. If we could get the ship to work and return to Onontí, Sabela would be able to track Father down...as long as they didn't decide to kill him first. I pushed that thought to the back of my mind, clinging to the hope that they had kept him alive for a reason.

Once the directions arrived, Aeron picked up the speed a little as we raced down the interstate. It would take us the rest of the day—and most of the night—to get there. As we drove, I asked him what the odds were that Father's ship would actually be flightworthy.

"If he protected it from the elements and kept up with routine maintenance," he postulated, "it could actually be in pretty good shape. We may need to restock the food stores, but the ship itself was built to last."

"What about fuel?" I wondered.

"It had enough to make the return trip and then some," he explained. "It shouldn't have degraded appreciably over the years." He reached over to take hold of my hand, reassuring me. "This could work, Palta. And if it doesn't, we'll find another way..."

After another hour of driving, it occurred to me that we hadn't had a meal—or taken a bathroom break—in way too long. I sheepishly asked Aeron if we could stop to fill up the gas tank and run into a convenience store. Ewenami seconded my request. Aeron took the next exit, and we made a mad dash inside.

On our way back to the car, I insisted on taking a turn to drive. The enemy ship no longer seemed to be a threat, and Aeron would need his energy to pilot Father's ship. After a persuasive argument on my part, Aeron ultimately relented, climbing into the passenger seat. He stubbornly refused to recline the seat; but eventually his eyelids grew too heavy, and he leaned his head back against the headrest to drift off to sleep. I tried to keep my eyes on the road, but I couldn't help but steal an occasional glance at his angelic face. Ewenami tried to stay awake to keep me company; but as she yawned involuntarily, I encouraged her to catch a nap as well.

As the day turned to night, I looked for another gas station to refuel. Aeron startled awake as the car came to a stop. I reassured him it was just another pit stop. He woke Ewenami and sent the two of us inside, while he filled up the tank.

When we regrouped at the car, Ewenami pled her case to be the next driver. I encouraged Aeron to sit with her in the front, while I caught some more rest in the backseat. I handed him my phone with the driving directions and made myself comfortable.

It was well into the night when we arrived at the anticipated location. I came awake as we pulled to a stop in front of a gated fence, our headlights the only source of light in a surrounding sea of darkness. Aeron stepped out of the car to open the gate. My heart raced with sudden concern as I spotted a gun in his hand...Had something happened while I was sleeping? My fears were allayed when he aimed at the gate's lock and fired, then pushed the gate open to allow Ewenami to drive through. He climbed back into the car, joining me in the backseat, as Ewenami began to follow the unpaved road ahead.

I had another surge of alarm as I realized the gate had still been locked...

"Why aren't Sabela and Dominick here yet?" I burst out anxiously. "They had a much shorter drive...They should have been here long before now."

"It took them a while to pack things up, and they had to stock up on food supplies," Aeron wrapped his arm around me comfortingly. "They're almost here." His voice was calmly reassuring as he reached up to tenderly brush my bangs out of my eyes.

We drove through the darkness as we followed the meandering path of overgrown tire tracks for what felt like several miles. Eventually the beams from our headlights landed upon a massive steel building—an aircraft hangar. I wondered if the workers who had assembled it could ever have imagined what would be housed inside.

Aeron exited the car—gun in hand again—to shoot the lock off the side entrance, disappearing through the door. Moments later he reappeared, slowly pushing open the wide wall of hangar doors. Ewenami pulled the car inside the unlit hangar. As the headlights reflected off the surrounding walls, a strange glow filled the space.

Standing in the center of the building—looking rather cramped despite the hangar's enormous size—was the majestic ship that belonged to my father. Its paint finish was not quite as radiantly white, but otherwise it seemed an identical match to Aeron's ship.

My eyes welled up with tears as I studied my only remaining memento of my father's love. Whether he had intended it or not, this was his offering of salvation to his daughters. It was also our only hope of saving him.

Ewenami cut the engine, leaving the headlights on to light the space. We stepped out of the car as Aeron began inspecting the exterior of the ship. "It looks good so far," he reported. "Your father kept it in immaculate condition."

Unfortunately, we had no way of breaking into the ship without causing significant damage. We would have to wait for Sabela—the only one of us who had been programmed into the ship's roster before.

We distracted ourselves with an introductory Onontian vocabulary lesson. I hoped it was my sleep-deprived and emotionally frazzled state that made it seem overly complicated...Aeron tried to hide his amusement as I butchered the pronunciation of just about everything.

At length, we heard the sound of a vehicle approaching. I recognized my father's truck, with an old ranch trailer in tow—it appeared to be packed to the brim. We stepped back to allow room for Dominick to pull into the hangar. As he came to a stop, Sabela jumped out and ran to give me a hug.

"What is all this stuff?" I asked, referring to the jam-packed trailer and truck bed. "Is that really all food?"

"Half of it is," she nodded. "The rest is a combination of things from home and assorted new purchases."

I was too busy wondering if she would be able to gain access to the ship to question her any further about it. Aeron directed Sabela over to a panel near the cargo door. As she pressed her hand against it, the door made a loud clicking sound, then began slowly opening toward the ground. Dominick followed Aeron's directions to pull the truck—trailer and all—into the cargo hold. As Dominick stepped out of the driver's seat, I walked over to give him a welcoming hug.

"I'm so sorry I couldn't save your father," he said, his expression racked with guilt. "I was no help whatsoever...I'm afraid he would have been better off without me there."

"That's absurd, Dom," I shook my head disapprovingly. "Who knows what would have happened if you hadn't been there?...At the very least, we would have no idea what actually happened. I'm just so relieved you're safe."

Sabela came over to join the conversation, attempting to explain Dominick's self-deprecating perspective. "He thinks that Father put all his efforts into protecting him, rather than saving himself." She shook her head in disagreement. "But I think he acted to protect us all...If he had persuaded the rebels to leave him alone, they would have just turned their attention back to the rest of us."

"You know she's right, Dom," I eyed him sternly. "So no more of this blaming yourself business," I added with another hug. "We are going to find him." He nodded in acceptance as we made our way to the ship's interior.

We proceeded to the control bridge, the familiar corridors and off-white interior easing my sense of loss over Aeron's ship a bit. Even so, I was reminded of all of my most treasured possessions that had been lost in an instant. Our lives were certainly far more valuable; but I couldn't help but wonder how we were going to make it through a lengthy flight with no spare clothing. Ewenami and I could probably fit into some of Sabela's things, but I couldn't see Aeron and Dominick being a good size match.

With Sabela's help, Aeron fired up the ship's controls, then went about the procedure of entering each of us into the computer's memory. The process complete, he explained he would need a little time to run some diagnostic testing and make sure the ship was prepared for flight. The rest of us returned to the cargo area to begin unloading the trailer.

Once we had stowed away all the food in the pantry, we began dividing up the boxes that Sabela had marked with our names. I was puzzled to see that each of us had several large moving boxes to our name...In my case, there were a whopping five.

"What's in here?" I asked as Sabela helped me carry a load to my suite. "I didn't expect you to bring anything beyond the essentials...I didn't leave this much stuff behind that would have been worth taking the time to pack."

"It was Aeron's idea," she explained with an approving smile. "He knew that everything you cared about was destroyed in the explosion, and he wanted so badly for you to feel at home...So he asked me to pack everything of interest you had left behind. And then we went on a whirlwind shopping spree," she smiled with a wink. "None of it is anything spectacular, just things I could grab quickly at the strip mall while Dom picked up the food: clothes, shoes, books, movies, CDs, a DVD player, makeup, hair care products,..." And the list went on.

"I guess you might as well blow the bank," I shrugged with a smile as I gave her an appreciative hug. "It's not like it will do us any good to pinch pennies now..."

I paused for a moment to consider the number of boxes in front of me. "You did get plenty of things for yourselves, and Aeron and Ewenami...Didn't you?" I definitely didn't want to be the only one on board who was basking in luxury. She assured me that everyone was covered.

As we started unpacking boxes, the floor began its familiar vibration, accompanied by the subtle rumbling sound that I recognized to be the ship's engines coming to life. We looked to one another with excitement, abandoning our unpacking to head for the control bridge.

We met Ewenami and Dominick in the corridor, stepping into the elevator to ascend to the upper dome. Aeron slowly spun around in his seat as we approached. "Brace yourselves," he declared with a smile. "We're ready for takeoff."

I took my place behind his seat, bending forward to kiss him on the cheek as he returned to working the controls. As I looked out the windshield, I suddenly wondered, "How are we getting out of this hangar?"

"Very carefully," he enunciated, as the ship began to hover precariously between the floor and ceiling of the cramped building. Slowly, steadily, he eased us forward through the open doors. Once clear of the hangar, we started to climb into the night sky.

Once again, it was hard to perceive the ship's motion without any visual cues in the darkness. There was a momentary flash of light as we left the atmosphere, and suddenly a vivid image appeared outside the windshield...The moon's outline was rapidly growing in size as we drew nearer. Then, abruptly, we seemed to come to a halt. The moon drifted to the side, then fell out of view as another vista filled the window.

It was a scene of vibrant blues and greens, more breathtaking than any photo could ever do justice. My mouth dropped in awe as I squeezed Aeron's shoulder. He looked up at me, patiently waiting for my signal that I was ready to say goodbye.

I finally appreciated in that moment what an amazing home Earth had been to me...the only home I'd ever known. I took a deep breath, then nodded slowly. "Okay," I shifted my gaze to meet his eyes. "It's time."

He squeezed my hand upon his shoulder, then returned to the controls, as the view through the window slowly rotated to a star-studded blanket of night. With a momentary bobble of the floor, the ship burst forward into the infinite expanse.

I stood in awe for a minute, trying to fathom how rapidly we must be traveling. In time, Aeron turned away from the controls. Apparently the ship would function on autopilot for a while. We all proceeded to the elevator, agreeing it was finally time to go get some decent sleep. As the rest of the group headed for their respective wings, Aeron took my hand to escort me to my suite. Once inside, I turned to wrap my arms around his waist.

"I would like to thank you," I began, "for being so thoughtful as to ask Sabela to replace my lost things...I wasn't expecting it."

"Trust me, it's the least I could do," he replied with a humble smile. "She and Dominick did all the work."

"I know, but it's the thought that counts," I contested. "I hope you asked her to get whatever you need...You lost all your belongings too."

He shook his head. "There's no comparison between our situations, Palta...I lost a few things I'd packed for the journey here. You have lost your whole world." His eyes were filled with compassion. "I realize that a few material things won't replace the solace of home—or ease your fear for your father's safety—but perhaps they will offer some small comfort," he continued, as he stroked his hands soothingly along my upper arms. "I promise you, we will find and rescue your father." His gaze was intense as he pledged his unfailing support. "And with time, I hope you will come to think of Onontí as your home. I know it seems like a war-torn battleground right now, but it really is an exceptionally beautiful place...We will restore it to its former serenity." He reached up to caress my cheek with a soft smile. "And when we do, there are so many places I want to show you..." A hint of anticipation flickered across his face.

As he looked into my eyes, I found myself believing that he really would set everything right. "I know we have our challenges ahead," I acknowledged with a contemplative look. "But in spite of them, I'm really looking forward to starting a new life with you...If you'll have me," I added with a playful smile.

His affectionate gaze assured me of his willing devotion, as he leaned in to kiss me gently. He nuzzled my cheek lightly with the tip of his nose as he whispered, "I'm afraid you're stuck with me..." He kissed me tenderly once more, then started to step back. "I'll let you have some peace and quiet now...I'm sure you need some rest."

"Actually," I caught hold of his hands, preventing him from backing away any further. "I'm not tired at all..." I bit my bottom lip mischievously.

"I was hoping you'd say that..." He stepped swiftly forward, encircling my waist with his eager arms. My heart all but pounded out of my chest as he kissed me with renewed enthusiasm. I decided for the time being to set aside my worries, trusting in his ability to make anything possible.

As I cleared my head and surrendered to the blissful moment, it was hard to imagine that life could get any better than this...

# ***
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### Other Books by M.A. George

 Relativity (Proximity series #2)

Vitality (Proximity series #3)

Aqua

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Palta and Aeron's story continues with  Relativity.

### Here's a look at the first few chapters:

# CHAPTER 1

"Ongkiñaen."

"Own king cane?"

"Ong-keen-yain."

Cue my exasperated sigh. "This is humiliating..."

"Palta, it takes time to learn a new language...Be patient with yourself."

"It took you precisely ten minutes to learn English...I can barely learn one Onontian word in ten minutes." Another sigh of frustration on my part. (Actually, more like a growl than a sigh.)

Cue Aeron's infinitely patient and encouraging voice, "Try again...Ongkiñaen."

"Ong...keen...yain?"

"Perfect!" His whole face lit up. (Okay, so that elated smile was worth it.)

"Hold on there, cowboy...Don't get too excited," I warned. "I have absolutely no recollection what the English translation was."

"Let me see if I can put it into context for you...You are the most amazing 'ongkiñaen' I have ever met."

"Oh, now that was just plain rude."

"What?" His face fell, as he tried to understand how he had managed to offend me.

"Just because I'm a little slow with the lingo," I tried not to crack a smile, as I kept up the insulted façade, "It doesn't give you a right to call me an amazing idiot."

Now it was his turn for an exasperated grumble. "I didn't call you an idiot, Palta..." I had to smile at the way he stumbled over the word "idiot", like it was blasphemous to even mention it in connection with my name. "I called you a woman."

"Oh," I nodded with a mock epiphany. "I guess that's okay...I am one of those." I winked with a teasing smile.

"Yes," his mouth turned up into a sly smile, as he leaned in with desire in his mesmerizing green eyes. "You are definitely one of those."

I stopped him with a hand against his chest. "Now how do you expect me to learn anything if you look at me like that?"

"Like what?" Now he was the one doing the teasing, as he moved in temptingly close.

"Like you're having impure thoughts." I eyed him shrewdly as I shook my head, feigning disapproval.

"Can you blame me?" He smiled crookedly as he raised one eyebrow, reaching up to stroke the side of my cheek with a single finger. "I'm alone on the couch with a beautiful, intelligent, irresistible woman in her private suite...I would say 'I'm only human'—except, of course, I'm not actually human."

"See, that's just it...You shouldn't even know sayings like that," I griped. "It takes normal people years to pick up on all those little phrases. Do you have any idea how stupid I feel, when I can't even say 'Hello, my name is Palta...Oh, and by the way—I'm the village idiot.'?"

He was amused by my rant, chuckling softly as he kept stroking my cheek, tracing his index finger down the side of my neck and along my collarbone. "You are one of the most intelligent people I know, Palta," he assured me, as he looked seriously into my eyes, then returned to playfully trailing his fingertip out to my shoulder and down my arm. As he reached my hand, he interlaced his fingers with mine, pressing our palms together.

I had to take a moment to catch my breath, my heart fluttering wildly at the thrill of his sensual touch. My voice was almost hoarse as I tried to carry on with the conversation. "I'll admit, I used to consider myself a reasonably intelligent person...until I met you. By comparison, I look like a colossal moron. And my self-esteem is really taking a nosedive with the realization that I'll belong in the kindergarten class on Onontí. Make that the remedial kindergarten class...Even five-year-olds can speak in complete sentences," I added dryly.

"You've had one day to get started, Palta," he reminded me. "It is expected that it will take quite a bit longer than that to be fluent." He squeezed my hand as he reached his opposite hand up to cradle my cheek, trying to console me.

"It didn't take you that long..." I pouted.

"Would it make you feel better if we had a contest to see who can most successfully heal mortal wounds with the touch of a hand?" He raised his eyebrows knowingly. "Not only would I be a complete failure...I'd have to come running to you for help, lest I leave the wounded to die a miserable death."

"Gee whiz, you didn't have to get so graphic," I kidded.

"Well, I'm trying to illustrate a point," he shrugged. "We each have our gifts...and in reality, you have far more of them than I do."

"Oh, no," I shook my finger at him. "I've got the market cornered on self-deprecating talk right now. Don't even think about joining in." I blew out an apologetic sigh. "I'm sorry I turned this into a competition...I don't want to compete with you. I love that you are a million miles ahead of me in brain power. It inspires me to push myself," I smiled sincerely. "I guess I just got a little carried away with pushing too intensely. I'm not used to being second rate...It annoys me," I admitted awkwardly.

"You are right, it's not a competition," he agreed. "You and I are a team, Palta. And you are second to no one...myself included," he eyed me meaningfully. "You are—at the very least—my equal."

I understood his meaning without the need for further explanation. Aeron was the ruler of an entire planet, and was undoubtedly used to people subordinating themselves in his presence. He didn't want me to debase myself to him or anyone else. I nodded in acceptance, trying to push my fears to the back of my mind. Though I knew without doubt that Aeron was in earnest, surely there would be those who would object to his association with me—an obscure woman he'd scrounged up from a foreign planet—Onontian by blood, but otherwise completely clueless as to their language, customs, and history (save a few facts pertaining to my own saga). And of course, I was far from being royalty.

Yep, I was going to make headlines as the hussy who was trying to seduce the king...Fabulous.

Just as I was working myself into a perfectly respectable panic attack, Aeron distracted my attention by leaning in for a kiss. Suddenly I didn't care if I was going to be ridiculed as a misfit. As long as he still wanted me, the gossip wouldn't faze me.

And it was very apparent from his kiss that he wanted me.

I emptied my mind and indulged in the unbelievable way he touched me, wrapping his arms around my back as he pulled me to sit in his lap. He smelled and tasted heavenly—just fresh and clean, not drowning in cologne or mouthwash. I struggled to control my ragged breathing as he began kissing down my neck, his soft lips sending a chill rushing through my body. Just as he was stroking his hand along my thigh, his lips finding their way back to my mouth, my ears made out a faint buzzing sound in the background. Determined to chalk it up to a figment of my imagination, I ran my fingers through his hair as I returned his kiss. He moaned in approval...Either he was ignoring the buzzing sound too, or it really was a construct of my subconscious. At the second peal of the buzzer, he let out an irritated sigh. I echoed his show of annoyance as I realized that the doorbell really was ringing...

What could possibly be so important right this minute?

# CHAPTER 2

I snapped back into reality with the disturbing realization that quite a few things could be direly important right now. For one, civil war was threatening to tear Onontí apart...Though we were still a solid three months of space travel away, Aeron was overseeing everything from afar. What if our side was falling to the rebel forces?

Secondly, we were traveling faster than light in a ship that was pushing 126 years old. It didn't look at all rickety—but what did I know about space ships? I visualized random parts breaking off the ship's hull, tumbling into the void of space, exhaust sputtering in our wake. We didn't exactly have the option of pulling into an intergalactic service station.

Though we were already the better part of a day away from Earth (at this speed, that would be pushing sixteen billion miles), I still thought of it as home. And we had left a fair trail of chaos behind in our departure. Aeron's ship exploding in the Montana Rockies was surely going to make history. And although I hoped it wasn't true, there was the distinct possibility that an Onontian assassin had remained behind on Earth. My brother-in-law Dominick had only seen two of the rebel soldiers as they swooped in and abducted my father from his own home...That left one soldier unaccounted for.

Which brings me to the most pressing worry on my mind at present...my father. I looked to the door, my expression frozen in terror, as I predicted the reason for the sudden intrusion.

It must be about Father.

I had no idea how...but I was certain that one of our group was standing outside the door, waiting to break the bad news to me. Maybe my sister Sabela had sensed that he was no longer on the enemy ship we were pursuing (though I was fairly certain we were too far away, even for her keen senses). Perhaps Aeron's sister Ewenami had received a transmission from Imai Odele—the trusted contact on Onontí, who also happens to be the man she loves. One way or another, I was convinced that this unexpected visitor at my door came bearing bad tidings.

Aeron read the trepidation in my expression as he took hold of my hand. "Don't be distressed," he spoke soothingly, "I'm sure it's nothing serious."

He was always so optimistic, part of me was tempted to believe him. It was the other more pessimistic part—still the greater fraction of my conscious mind—that was inclined to expect the worst. I'm not actually a pessimist by nature, but 117 years of cumulative life experiences have taught me to respect Murphy's law. Maybe that does make me a pessimist by nature? I'd have to work on that. Some other time...Right now I was busy preparing myself for the worst.

I half-cowered behind Aeron, my hand still in his, as we proceeded toward the door. The panel slid open to reveal Ewenami standing in the corridor. She seemed relaxed as she addressed Aeron, "Imai needs to talk to you."

Worry crinkled my forehead as I peered around Aeron's shoulder. "Don't worry, Palta," she reassured me, "It's just his routine report." I wasn't sure if Ewenami had read the anxiety on my expression or in my thoughts...Either way, her casual assurance did put me at ease.

Aeron turned to examine my face as I stepped to his side. "Forgive me, Palta," his expression was sincerely apologetic. "I'll have to step away for a few minutes."

I erased all traces of apprehension from my face as I encouraged him to answer the call of duty. "No apology necessary, Aeron. Your people need you." I gave him a supportive smile.

"Our people," he reminded me, as he kissed my cheek.

"Our people," I echoed. I liked the sound of that...I'd never belonged to a group larger than my own family (at least not without concealing my true identity). I knew it would take time, but there was a possibility I would grow to find a home among my native people. The look of sheer determination on Aeron's face told me that he would make certain I felt at home on Onontí...I hoped he wouldn't go to extremes to accomplish that task. Surely he wouldn't try to reconstruct an American city, or change the official language of Onontí to English? Though I would never invoke it, I had the distinct impression that my wish was his command.

He reluctantly released my hand as he exited my suite, making his way to the upper deck that constituted the control bridge. Ewenami stayed behind to invite me to join her in the dining area—it was approaching dinnertime.

As we made our way there, she caringly acknowledged the reason for my anxiety, "I know you are beside yourself with concern for your father's safety, Palta. I sincerely want to avoid violating your privacy; but I can't help but notice that he is constantly in your thoughts now. I can see that it's not like you to be this preoccupied. Is there anything I can do that would help to ease your distress?" Her compassionate expression was sincere. I was reminded of her own tragedy—the unexpected assassination of her parents just prior to her travel to Earth.

"Thank you, Ewenami," I was genuinely grateful. "I wish there were something that any of us could do right now...It's this uselessness that is driving me crazy. The only thing that will calm my mind is seeing my father alive and well. And for the moment, that is an impossibility," I brooded sadly.

"I understand," she patted me comfortingly on the back. "I'm here if you need someone to talk to."

I smiled in appreciation as we arrived at the dining area and began preparing our food. Though the ingredients were all unappetizingly freeze-dried, we managed to put together a fairly decent spread...Too bad my appetite was ruined by the continual gnawing in my stomach. I had honestly never before experienced quite as much stress as I had in these past few days...I had no idea how much my nerves affected my stomach.

As I picked at my food, a thought occurred to me. I looked up to address Ewenami, seated across the dining table from me. "In all the chaos since we met," I began, "I have neglected to offer you a sincere apology."

"For?..." Her expression turned puzzled, as she tried to resist the temptation to read the explanation in my thoughts.

"For the way I spoke to you that night we first met," I cringed. "It wasn't like me at all—I don't know what got into me. I was inexcusably belligerent."

"Trust me, Palta...It's already forgotten," she smiled graciously.

"You're too kind, Ewenami," I shook my head. "I can't imagine how you could ever tolerate me—let alone befriend me—when I was such a jerk without cause."

"You had a cause...I appeared to be standing between you and the man you love," she reminded me. I cringed again at the embarrassing realization that she knew exactly what my juvenile motivation had been. It would be one thing if Aeron had been my boyfriend...but at the time, he was barely even classifiable as an acquaintance. I blushed with humiliation as I recalled the intensity of my loathing when I'd thought she was romantically involved with him.

Ewenami tried to assuage my guilt with a reassuring smile. "Believe me when I say there is no apology necessary...I would react the same way if some mystery woman tried to steal Imai."

"But that's normal...Imai loves you," I responded. "Aeron barely even knew me at the time." I blushed again as I recalled my obsession that bordered on stalking.

"I assure you, he knew exactly who you were," she gave me a meaningful look. "You occupied his thoughts more than he cared to admit. He tried to hide it from me—but as soon as I met you, it became glaringly obvious. Why do you think I was so excited when he worked up the nerve to tell you the truth? It would have broken his heart if he had to leave you behind."

"I'm flattered, but..." I couldn't mask my bewilderment, "I'm sure he would have forgotten me when he returned to Onontí...Surely he has his choice of much more appealing women." I frowned as I contemplated the thought.

"He's had a lifetime of opportunities to fall for one of the jillion women who expressed their interest," she shook her head. "You are the only one who has caught his attention, Palta...You are his perfect match."

I delighted in the idea, knowing Ewenami had an insider's view into his true feelings...yet I couldn't help but envision a line of a 'jillion women' forming in front of me. "He is so flawlessly perfect in every way, Ewenami," I shook my head in disbelief. "It's only a matter of time before he realizes he has better options."

"Now, you know I love my brother more than anything," she responded, "but he is most definitely not perfect...No one is. And you forget that I can see a person's true nature in their thoughts with very little need for conversation...You are far too self-conscious, Palta. You habitually sell yourself short." Though she was almost forty years my junior, her expression reminded me vividly of my father when he disapproved of my tendency to focus on my shortcomings. "Aeron has as much reason to love you as you do him." Though her tone of voice was gentle, her expression made it clear she wasn't going to let me argue. I was reminded of her royal footing—and Aeron's description of her tenacious willpower.

I might have chosen to stubbornly refute her claims, had I not wanted so badly for them to be true. "I hope you're right, Ewenami," I mustered an awkward smile. "I love him more desperately than I care to admit."

"I know you do," she smiled warmly, "almost as desperately as he loves you..."

# CHAPTER 3

As Ewenami and I kept chatting, Sabela and Dominick arrived to join us for dinner. Sabela looked as tired as I felt...Apparently I wasn't the only one losing sleep over our father's disappearance. We all visited around the table as we ate (or at least attempted to eat). Sabela was doing about as well as I was in that regard.

Eventually Aeron arrived to complete our party. I stood from the table, offering to prepare something for him to eat. He took a look at my plate, his face growing concerned. "Palta, you've hardly touched your food...Does it taste that bad? What can I get you that you'd like?" He stepped toward the pantry, rummaging through the food stores for something that might suit my tastes.

"It's not the food, Aeron," I assured him. "I just don't feel like eating right now..."

He understood my meaning immediately, stepping over to enfold me in his comforting arms. "He's going to be okay, Palta," he whispered in my ear. "They kept him alive for a reason."

I looked up to meet his eyes, my brow furrowing as I tried to decipher what that reason might have been. It was a familiar riddle to my sleep-deprived brain...the exact question that had puzzled me throughout the previous night:

Why would Bito Obo want to capture my father?

Several theories seemed plausible...Maybe he knew that Aeron was looking for my father, and wanted to use him as bait to draw Aeron in. I certainly didn't like that prospect.

Or perhaps his intent was to force my father to join in his cause...Together their powers of mind control would bring the monarchy to its knees. I suspected he knew my father better than that. As his half-brother, he would surely know that Father was the most ethically-conscious person on either of our worlds.

From the little I knew about Bito Obo, I had the impression he was a vindictive power-monger. It was possible his sole purpose was to force his half-brother-turned-rival to watch as he destroyed the empire my father had dutifully served. Yet again, I was far from thrilled with that option.

Aeron reached up to outline the crease in my forehead with his thumb, his own mind straining to come up with some way of unburdening my thoughts. "Don't mind me," I tried to put on a stoic face. "I'm just a little tired."

"You're exhausted, Palta," his expression was still deeply concerned. "Emotionally and physically...Yesterday was horrendous," he reminded me, as he began gently tracing his fingers about the numerous bruises and abrasions that covered both my arms—the souvenirs from my tumble down the forested hillside, as we laid siege to the rebel ship. "I told you not to waste your energy healing my insignificant little scrapes. You have no strength left to heal yourself..." His eyes filled with regret. "Please eat something," he begged me softly, "I'll cook anything you want."

"You can cook?" I tried to lighten his somber mood. "I like a man who knows his way around the kitchen."

"I can hold my own," he smiled. "Try me. Whatever your heart desires...As long as it comes from a can," he cringed, as he looked around the shelves loaded with pitifully unappealing options. It reminded me of a Y2K shelter.

"Save your skills for another day," I suggested lightheartedly. "No reason to waste what I've already got on my plate."

"I can finish that off and get you something better," he offered.

"You'd eat my leftovers?..." I felt like such a prima donna. "You're a king."

"I'm a...hungry...king," he shrugged, as he unassumingly glanced to the side. "I'm not picky."

"Well, neither am I," I affirmed with an unyielding raise of my eyebrows. "I refuse to allow you to cook something special for me, while you live off my scraps. Go sit down." I took hold of his shoulders to turn him around, pushing him toward the table. "I'll have your food ready in a minute." He protested, but I gave him a stern eye.

"I suggest you give up, Aeron," Sabela teased, as I shoved Aeron toward the table. "She's got her game face on...Trust me, she won't take 'no' for an answer."

He reluctantly conceded, turning to give me a look that made it clear he was doing so under protest. I responded with a triumphant smile, dusting my hands as I pivoted on my heel to revisit the pantry.

I returned in a few short minutes (There's only so much you can do when working entirely with non-perishables), setting a plate in front of Aeron. His smile was overly appreciative, considering the unappetizing appearance of the meal. I took my place beside him, forcing down the food in front of me with a carefully preserved smile. I was no less worried than I had been ten minutes ago, but I resolved to keep my worries to myself from now on. Aeron had enough on his mind without having to fret over me.

As we wrapped up the meal, the five of us moved to the recreational room, making ourselves comfortable on the chairs and couches. Aeron resumed the Onontian vocabulary lesson, with Ewenami assisting by projecting words up on the video screen. It was bad enough trying to mimic the pronunciation of unfamiliar words...Now we had to add an entirely foreign alphabet?

Sabela put me to shame, having spoken the language until the age of six. Though it was dredging up long-forgotten memories from a lifetime ago, the lesson was clearly sparking some sort of subconscious recall. I was selfishly relieved to see that Dominick, at least, was struggling as much as I was.

I didn't realize at the time, but this would become our routine after-dinner activity. The days would have a tendency to blur together in the infinite darkness of space. We tried to keep ourselves to a timetable by setting up a schedule of sorts. There was more than enough time for kicking back—so much so that I began to feel a little stir crazy. I actually grew to look forward to the "classroom" time, especially once I started to get the hang of things. Somewhere in the course of our journey, I found myself growing more confident with my conversational skills. I was even able to recognize all the letters of the Onontian alphabet...Granted, I hadn't even attempted to tackle writing yet.

We agreed early on that it made sense to change ourselves over to Onontian time—a day on Onontí was roughly thirty-one hours. I could see where that might be nice...It never seemed like there were enough hours in the day on Earth. And it shed some light on the way Aeron was always able to stay awake longer than I could...He was accustomed to longer daylight hours.

I also liked the fact that a year lasted 522 days—by Onontian standards, I was no longer over a century in age. Though I made the transition to the new system relatively smoothly, I couldn't help but keep simultaneous track of Earth's calendar. I suppose I wasn't quite ready to let go.

The course of our flight included what would have been my birthday on Earth. Assuming I was the only one plotting out the days on two separate calendars, I didn't expect anyone to take notice of this particular day when it arrived. Besides, I had long since outgrown the need to treat my birthday as a monumental occasion. In truth, it was always somewhat clouded by sadness...The date of my birth coincided with the date of my mother's death.

Apparently I wasn't the only one keeping track of multiple calendars. Midway through the day, I rounded the corner into the dining area to see a completely unanticipated spectacle: balloons, streamers, a cake...the whole nine yards. The only thing missing was a cluster of 118 candles atop the cake—I was glad Sabela had at least drawn the line there. Though the whole group was joining in for the traditional birthday serenade, I knew my sister was at the root of things. She had undoubtedly plotted this as she was racing around grabbing supplies for our last-minute flight. I was torn between irritation at the over-the-top display and weepy sentimentality for Sabela's unfailing generosity of spirit. Knowing my inclination for remorse due to the association between my birthday and the anniversary of our mother's death, she always went out of her way to make it a joyous occasion.

There was only one person who took greater effort to buck up and put on a happy face for my birthdays...my father. I blinked feverishly to control the tears that threatened to flow...I really didn't want to put on a blubbering display in front of everyone. I hugged my sister tightly, whispering a feeble "Thank you" into her ear.

"I wasn't about to let you skip out on turning one hundred and eighteen. If I had to do it...so do you, Sis," she winked. "When you match my one hundred and thirty-one, then you can start counting by Onontian years—not a day before," she added with a teasing smile.

Dominick stepped over to give me a brotherly hug. "Whoa, Palta..." he ribbed me, "Is that a cobweb in your hair?"

"At least I have hair," I smirked. "Remind me what you see in this guy?" I gave Sabela a kidding look.

"He's perfect..." she gushed, as she looped her arm in his.

"Yeah, yeah..." I rolled my eyes, "So you say." I reached up to teasingly muss Dominick's hair.

Ewenami came over to give me a quick hug. "I know you don't like being the center of attention," she smiled sweetly, "but you deserve a special day...I hope you enjoy it." As I thanked her, she stepped aside to make way for Aeron.

He tried to respect my unspoken plea to avoid making any more of a production than had already been done. He simply pulled me into a tight hug, whispering into my ear, "Happy birthday, Palta. I love you...now and always."

It was certainly not the first time he had expressed his love for me, but I was struck by his heartfelt tone. It was the best birthday gift I could have asked for...his promise of everlasting love. I looked up to meet his gaze, hoping my eyes would convey the gratitude I felt. Words just didn't seem to do it justice.

We gathered around the table to visit and enjoy a leisurely lunch. Sabela delighted in telling a few stories from my childhood. To nobody's surprise, my headstrong nature was a recurring theme. Thankfully, it wasn't in her nature to tell truly embarrassing stories—or to claim center stage for more than a few minutes. Eventually, we wrapped up the celebration to return to our individual corners of the ship. On most occasions, that was Aeron's cue to accompany me to my quarters.

We spent most of our free time camped out on my couch—usually just talking—albeit intermixed with a fair bit of making out. Though it was sometimes challenging, we always managed to stop ourselves just shy of "sealing the deal" (for lack of an expression actually used by someone over the age of twenty-one). It wasn't actually something we discussed in so many words...It just became some sort of unspoken agreement. In truth, I wasn't exactly sure why. For my part, I was admittedly a little old-fashioned. Through a combination of my upbringing during a different era on Earth, my father's staunch moral fiber, and my obsession with classic romantic literature—I was inclined to believe that a man and a woman should commit to a marriage before they entered into that kind of physical intimacy. I suspected that Aeron was either similarly traditional, or perhaps was just being a gentleman and following my lead. Despite my tendency toward self-doubt, I was certain it wasn't because he found me unattractive.

Though I was completely comfortable discussing just about anything with him, I hadn't felt compelled to ask his reason...possibly because I didn't want to freak him out that I was pushing him toward marriage. That was a topic we hadn't really broached yet. Under most circumstances, it would be an expected progression of a relationship such as ours. However, I wasn't naïve enough to believe that it was that simple for royalty...Surely he had to consider more carefully his choice of a wife. Even though I truly believed he would love me forever, I tried to mentally prepare myself that he might not actually be expecting to marry me.

It wasn't hard to dance around the subject—our conversations flowed so easily, we were always occupied with other topics. We touched on a little bit of everything. I was eager to learn everything he could tell me about the Onontian culture—its history and customs, the geography of the main world and surrounding colonies. Admittedly, what interested me most was anything that pertained to his own life history. Although he happily answered my myriad questions, he was determined to interrogate me in return. He already knew most of Earth's history—some of it better than I did. He was purely interested in my personal story. He practically demanded that I start from my earliest memories and give a play-by-play narration of even the most mundane details. I found it absurd, but it was also impossible to resist—he was addicted to my chronicle like a prime time drama, eager to hear a new episode each day. I recounted all of my trials and triumphs, none of which were anywhere near as exciting as he seemed to think they were.

I confessed how many of my years had been spent wandering aimlessly through life. I was never lazy...I was always either working or attending school, often both. But I did a lot of random jumping from one career to another. As I wove my tale, I would often find myself thinking out loud, reexamining my chosen course of action. I justified my apparent inability to stick to a given career path as a form of denial...I knew I was naturally suited to a medical career, but that almost pushed me further away from it. I suppose it was a manifestation of my characteristic stubbornness...I didn't want to be pushed into something like it was my only option. Somewhere along the way, I caved and followed my predestined calling. It turned out to be the path that brought me the most peace of all. As I found myself reliving all of my life choices, I realized how much I would miss being a physician. I hoped I could eventually master the practice of Onontian medicine...I couldn't bear the thought of returning to a life of purposeless drifting.

Continue reading  Relativity

About the Author

M. A. George is part proud mother of two adorable children, part super top secret agent...Oops, probably just lost that job.

Writing is what keeps her up into the wee hours of the night. Fortunately, she has a lot of energy (Read: caffeine is her friend). She has a bit of an obsession with music (It does a fantastic job of tuning out rambunctious children while she attempts to focus).

She sincerely hopes people out there enjoy reading her work as much as she enjoys writing it. And if anyone hears of work for a super top secret agent, she's now available (Discretion guaranteed...).

