“I thought most of these stories ended with the human mother being nothing more than a surrogate, with the baby staying with the E.T.'s”
“I was told I would keep my baby until she was ready to take her place.”
“They explained this to you, what their intent was?”
“The gist of it—to enrich their planet with new life. What we call too sensitive or weak, they consider strong.”
“Were you frightened?”
“No.”
“What was your husband's reaction?”
“I couldn't tell him. I told you he doesn't even know about the first two abductions when I was sixteen. No, if I told him now, he wouldn't take it well. It would kill him.”
“If you believe it to be true, then don't you think he deserves the truth? What if your baby does resemble this other... species?”
“That sounds like validation, doctor. Careful, you might make me think you believe me.”
“As you said, you're not paying me for my opinion. My job is to help you.”
“I won't tell him. It's enough that you know.”
“What did he look like?”
“I'm not really sure. The man I saw was a hologram, for lack of a better word. I knew I wasn't seeing who it really was, but it didn't matter.”
“I find it interesting that the aliens said they wanted new life.”
“Lily will be one of them. She will share their genes.”
“Aren't these the same beings who snatched you from your bed and made you afraid?”
“Yes, and that's the part I still struggle with.”
Silence filled the next few moments.
“Is there anything more you'd like to share with me?”
“The hardest part is that I'm afraid they'll come back for her one day. That they'll take her from me, and I won't have any way to protect her.”
I can't believe what I’ve just heard. I'm numb.
If ever there was a reason to freak out, this is it.
I'm half alien.
But I don't react. All I can do is sit, frozen in place.
My head bowed, from underneath the protective blanket of my hair, I allow my eyes to glance up at Porter, who doesn't see me looking at him.
He looks at me though, as though I’ve sprouted a third eye. His eyes are round like saucers. He stands up from the papers he was reading and clears his throat.
I can hear him breathing from across the room.
He backs away from my stepfather's desk, his hands groping behind him for the doorknob. “Uh, I’ve got to get back home,” he says. “My parents are probably looking for me by now.”
“Is that wise?” Van surprises me by speaking up. “You told us that your parents were not your parents anymore.”
Porter chuckles nervously. “I'm prone to exaggerating.”
“The same thing that happened to everyone else could've happened to them,” I say without lifting my head. The look of horror on his face is too much for me to endure. “What if they are changed?”
“There is the possibility that you might get hurt out there,” Van says.
I sit up a little straighter. This is the first time Van has acknowledged any danger.
“Better the devil you know than the devil you don't,” Porter laughs weakly, “right?”
“Don't go, Porter,” I say. “I don't want you to get hurt.”
Porter turns to me, but he doesn't look at me. His voice shakes a little as he speaks. “I hope you understand why I have to go.”
Still looking down, I nod, my hair spilling over my shoulders.
I understand. He's afraid of me. But I don't say that. I can't say I blame him. I’d probably do the same in his shoes.
The door closes behind Porter, leaving me and Van alone in the major general's office. I'm sitting with my back against the wall, my head bowed. Van sits at the desk.
The quiet makes it hard to think straight. I listen for the sound of the front door closing behind Porter. When it does, I look up, relieved not to have someone around who's afraid of me.
I study Van's profile, hard, determined, naïve. Somehow I think he understands who I am.
He's been listening quietly to everything we've seen and heard but not reacting, like none of it is any surprise to him. I guess I shouldn't be surprised either—he is a soldier after all. Then a thought occurs to me. Since he is a soldier, a bodyguard, and is familiar with aliens, he knows what's really going on.
“You know something about what's happened to all those people out there, don't you,” I say, “something you're not telling me?”
“I have told you everything.”
“Why do I feel like you haven't?”
“What about Porter?” Van waits, challenging me to answer him.
I pretend that I don't understand the look on his face. “What about him?”
“You have feelings for him.” His voice was firm, final. It was a statement, not a question.
What's this? Van is jealous of Porter?
I toss my hair from my face and meet his accusing eyes without flinching. “He's a friend, nothing more. I feel sorry for him.”
“I have friends where I come from, but none of them are female.”
“Well, maybe things are different where you come from. But where I'm from, men and women can be friends.”
“You and I are the same. We come from the same place.”
“Are you... are you saying that your father was an alien too?”
Van shakes his head. “My father was a U.S. Marine. My mother was, what you call, alien to this planet.”
I have to wrap my brain around that for a minute. Then a horrible thought hits me. “Wait, when you say we're the same, you're not saying we're brother and sister, or something like that, are you?”
“In a way, yes. But we do not share the same parents.”
Whew! Major relief. “Your mother lives in the same place where you come from?”
“Yes.”
“And your father?”
“I never knew him, except that he is human. He left our home after I was born.”
“Your parents never married?”
“Though Earth customs are sometimes similar to ours, marriage and parenthood are foreign concepts to us.”
“I barely know my father,” I say with a heavy sense of regret. “But I guess he's not really my father after all, is he?”
One corner of Van's mouth turns down, and he shakes his head slowly.
“And my father waited until I turned sixteen to send you to me because he knew.”
“Your stepfather,” Van says, correcting me.
“I said it right.”
“I see.” Van smiles at me for the first time in a long while. It feels good. “He knew the danger you were in from the beginning. It was his idea to send you to Hawthorne, to keep you safe. He could not stand the thought of the Numen taking you back.”
“The Numen?”
“The race of beings you and I are related to.”
“Why have I never heard of them before?”
“The more anonymity a group maintains, the more powerful it is, but also the more dangerous an enemy it can become.”
“Who are the Numen?”
“A race of beings from the Antlia Two Galaxy.”
“And they don't look human, I'm guessing.”
Van shakes his head.
“Are they who we saw in the surveillance camera?” I hope not. I can stand the thought of being related to an alien, but that thing gives me the creeps.
“Yes. They live here on Earth, below ground.”
“The one's we read about in my father's papers.” I feel a shiver a panic move up my spine, but I manage to keep it together. “You said they come from where originally?”
“It's a dwarf satellite galaxy to ours called Antlia Two. It has the lowest surface brightness of any galaxy known. Ironically, the European Space Agency's Gaia spacecraft discovered it, almost like it was waiting there for them to
find their ancestors' home.”
“How far away is it?”
“One hundred thirty thousand light years from Earth. It is one-third the size of the Milky Way Galaxy. And its stars are old. They do not expect it to be habitable for much longer. The Milky Way is slowly taking it apart, but it remains steadily growing instead of shrinking like it should. That is why their people do not give up hope.”
“What are the people like?”
“They were a warring race like humans, who tended to be violent with their actions, their thoughts, and their feelings.”
“But now?”
“The Bastet, that is the name for what you and I are, half human, half Numen, split from the Numen centuries ago.”
“Bastet?”
“The name comes from an Egyptian warrior goddess, a cat, which the Bastet are not allowed to keep underground.”
That explains why he had so many questions about George.
“Though the Numen now see all hybrids who live in the Manitou Caves as rebels, we are not. We do not want any part of their old ways when they used to live in fear of being overtaken by their enemies, which made them warlike. The Bastet want peace. We live off of communal wealth that provides for everyone's needs.”
“How?”
“There is no such thing as personal wealth, individual savings accounts, or separate possessions. Shelter, food, and clothing are provided by the group. Everyone holds a job, but responsibilities are fulfilled for the group not for individual gain.”
“What about greed?”
“Our elders have taught us the same as all master teachers speak, that of storing up treasures for the next life. We take that to mean that the more generous a person is in this life, the better off they will be in their next. Generosity is a noble virtue.”
“That explains a lot about you.”
Van's smile is gentle. “You and I are the same. Your sensitive nature is assaulted by Earth energies. That is why you avoid most people. You just want to get along with everyone and be as kind as possible. And you feel more at home with technology because Earth relationships are confusing. All Bastet tend to be that way, shy and socially awkward.”
I laugh. “You noticed?”
Van covers my hand with his much larger one in a comforting gesture.
“The M.G. is missing,” I say “My mother is gone. What's going to happen to me now?”
“I will hear from the major general in time. For now, the Numen are not a threat to you and me. They cannot hide from me. They cannot sneak up on me. I know their ways, the things they can do that humans cannot, because I inherited those traits from them. As long as I am with you, they will not do as your mother feared and take you back.”
I smile and look away quickly. Van's reassurance makes me feel a little embarrassed. I mean, even if we do come from the same race of aliens, he is still an older man, and I’m only sixteen. I absently flick through the corners of the manila folders that lay beside me, wishing I could say out loud how I feel, that things could be different between us. But then I realize, I don't have to—he already knows how I feel.
Van watches me beneath hooded lids, an intense but secret expression on his face.
Now my blood pounds, making my face even hotter with embarrassment. He already knows.
I wish for the power to feel his feelings the way he can mine, that way, I could know for sure if he sees me as a just a kid he has to babysit or someone he could maybe actually love.
My free hand hovers over the drawer where I found the cassette tape, my wrist resting on the edge.
“There's another file there,” Van says, looking past me into the drawer. “It's labeled Lily.”
Relieved to have somewhere to put my attention, I reach in and pull it out. The papers inside the folder are in my mother's handwriting. “They look like lab tests,” I say. “This one is dated thirteen years ago. Pricked Lily's finger today and swabbed her mouth.”
Van's blue-eyed gaze catches and holds me in place.
“I don't remember any of this.”
He drops down on the carpeted floor beside me, cross legged, facing me, and holds out a hand.
I slide closer to him, conscious of where his warm flesh touches me.
“It makes sense,” Van says, his soothing voice relaxing me. “A genetic scientist would have brought her daughter to the lab to find out anything she could about your unique DNA.”
“I remember when I was ten years old,” I say, “I had an accident on my bike. That's about it really, except that there was a lot of blood, and something my mother said seemed odd to me.”
We can't let anyone know how rare your blood is.
“I never really thought too much about it after that, but it does make sense now. Her scientific curiosity about her daughter from another planet must have kept her up at night.”
The warmth in Van's lopsided smile echoes in his voice. “Studying the DNA of humans and hybrids did drive your mother's work. Thanks to you, the discovery she made will change human perception of all life as they know it.”
“You know what it is?”
Van nods. “If I am correct, then she must be protected from those who would want to cover it up.”
“After my accident is when all the fighting started. My parents sent me to Hawthorne not long after. I've always figured it was my fault that they divorced.”
“None of it was your fault. You went over the handle bars of your bike and hit the pavement,” Van says. “You bled so much that you needed a transfusion. That is how your father found out about your blood.”
Van speaks as if he was there. “How do you know all of this?”
“I just know.”
“Are you psychic too?”
Van chuckles. “Even though I was hired to look after you as soon as you turned sixteen, I feel I have always known you.” His laughing eyes give way to a smoldering gaze. “I have been tuned into you. We are the same.”
“The same?” I whisper.
“You need to know the whole truth of your birth. Since our fathers are not hybrids, but true Numen, we are special in a way. Our paths are vital to keeping the Bastet safe, me as a watcher, and you as a...” I can see from the pained expression on Van's face that he wants to finish, but something holds him back.
“Whatever you tell me will stay between us.”
“It is not a matter of trust. The future is not set.”
“If you and I are the same, how come they haven't taken you back?”
“Did I say that they have not tried?” Van says as if the answer is obvious.
I laugh at that. “Did they?”
“When I turned sixteen, they sent a representative. But thanks to your stepfather, I was able to go into hiding.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Seven months.”
“What? You mean you're sixteen too?”
Van cocks his head to the side and frowns. “What did you think?”
“That you already graduated high school, that you were old, like twenty or something.”
Van's chuckle betrays his youth. “I explained to you how school works where I come from.”
“That's right, you did. You're so smart and only sixteen. I wish I knew everything you knew already.”
“You will. And soon, you'll know their secrets too.”
“Is that why they want to take me back, so I won't use their secrets against them?”
Van hesitates. “It may be.”
That makes me laugh. “That's the first thing you haven't been sure about since I met you.”
My words seem to amuse him, and he answers with mock sincerity. “It happens from time to time.”
“Give me another thing Mike Donovan isn't sure about.”
Van's eyes turn green before he looks away. I realize for the first time that his emotions are just as hard for him to express. He may not cry or show any fear, but he feels deeply. And his green eyes prove it.
“I'm sorry.” The last th
ing I want to do is embarrass him. “I shouldn't have said that.”
He takes my hand in his and holds it gently, but a savage light burns in his green eyes. “I am not sure if I should kiss you or if that would make you run away from me again.”
The shock of discovering his feelings hits me full force. I don't know what to say. He and I are the same age. There's nothing holding us back. I can freely declare my love for him, at least to myself. The truth is, the way his thumb is skating over the sensitive skin on the back of my hand has turned my mind into a quivering mass of jelly. But one thing I know for sure, kissing Van would not make me run. It would be the best thing that's ever happened to me. I lean in closer to him to let him know that it's more than okay with me.
The green of his eyes is fading now, back to their brilliant blue.
Does that mean that he's having doubts?
“I am sworn to complete my mission,” he says as he closes the distance between us.
My heart beats fast.
“I am sworn to protect you, but I want to touch you.”
Our breaths intermingle as our lips get almost close enough to come together.
“I have human blood flowing in my veins, and I cannot fight it anymore.”
I can almost taste the sweet whipped cream of his mouth.
Then a blood curdling scream from out on the street shatters what should have been the most memorable moment of my entire life.
Chapter 9
∞
Porter lies out there, helpless, on the pavement.
From the major general's office window, it's obvious that Porter's injured. There's blood pooling around his head.
Van is already on his feet.
I scramble up from where I sit on the floor too, but I get up too fast, and my head starts to swim. I stumble backwards and land back on the carpet on my backside. Sparkly little black spots float in my vision.
Van's face appears in front of me. His lips are moving.
My ears ring. I can barely hear him over the sound of blood rushing in my head.
With his hands, he presses against my shoulders until I lay down flat on the floor. “I will come right back,” he says. “Stay here.”
I hear that. Stay here. That isn't a problem. If I move, I feel sick. Sweat is beading on my upper lip.
The Bodyguard: an alien romance Page 12
