by J. E. Taylor
President Foster took the seat next to André, his jaw tight and his lips pressed together in the thin line of anger. His eyes darted from Matthew to André and he swiveled in his direction. “How old are you?”
“Seventeen.”
President Foster studied André. His eyes fell on the wedding band on his left hand and his brow furrowed. “Aren’t you a bit young for marriage?”
“I don’t think so. But both of our parents did,” André replied. He glanced at his ring and turned it slowly on his finger. He raised his eyes back to meet the president’s.
President Foster let out a laugh. “I agree with them.”
André stopped fidgeting. “I love Katrina and neither of us wanted to wait to be together. I did my best to respect my father’s wishes up to that point but I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t stay away, so I married her.”
“Katrina, as in Commander Lawrence’s daughter?”
“Yes, sir. He wasn’t happy at all with the arrangement.” André looked back down at the ring on his hand and glanced over at his father. This was so much harder than he imagined.
The president blew out air and glanced between Matthew and André trying to figure out what to do with them and he focused on André. “Why did you come here?”
“I didn’t have a choice as to where I went, sir. I was lucky to drift into this solar system, and that you had the technology to rescue me, otherwise I would have died in space. Which, I’m sure was the emperor’s intention when he exiled me.”
“Exiled? Why were you exiled?” the president asked, his eyebrows arched with curiosity and surprise.
“The emperor used an old Zyclonian myth to justify killing my parents and sending me into space to die, and because I was the first child ever to be born with blue eyes, that just gave him the fuel to manipulate the people into believing his bullshit.” André ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t ever remember being in one place for more than a week before someone noticed me and then we’d move on, until one day we walked right into one of the emperor’s traps. Next thing I knew, my parents were charged with treason. I watched them die before they launched me into space.” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat, blinking back the red tinge that blurred his vision. “There was nothing I could do to stop any of it.” He met the president’s gaze. “I didn’t think kindness and decency existed in the universe until I arrived here.”
The president swung the seat toward Matthew and took a deep breath, standing and walking to the window, digesting the points André made. “I still don’t understand why you were exiled,” he finally said.
“He viewed me as a threat, sir.”
“How can a six-year-old be a threat?”
André sighed and closed his eyes, hanging his head for a moment. He hadn’t dredged up memories of his home planet for years, but today seemed to bring on an overload of memories. “Beyond the fact he believed the prophecy was real, there was no rhyme or reason in the emperor’s thinking, sir. He viewed me as a threat and went to great lengths to make sure the people shared that viewpoint.”
A crease appeared between Matthew’s eyes and André dropped his gaze to the floor. There was much more to the story, but even after six years on Earth, he wasn’t ready to open that can of worms.
The president studied André and then turned to Matthew. “Commander, I suggest you reseal those papers.”
Matthew let out his breath, unaware that he had been holding it, and traded a glance with André. “Thank you, sir, but there’s more.” Matthew sighed and looked at André. “My son has certain abilities.”
“What kind of abilities?” President Foster asked turning toward the two of them.
“I can read minds, sir,” André answered before Matthew could. “And I can manipulate matter,” he added. He was about to confess to having the ability of mind control when Matthew shook his head to keep quiet.
“Control matter?”
André looked at the chair the president had been sitting in and sent it rolling across the room in a display of what he was talking about.
President Foster watched the chair and his gaze shot back to André.
André shrugged.
“Sir, it doesn’t end there. He can teach others to do the same,” Matthew said.
The president glanced out the window, thinking of the ramifications and on the heels of those, the possibilities broadcasted in his thoughts to both André and Matthew.
“My dad won’t let me join the military until I’m out of high school,” André replied.
“He doesn’t have much of a choice.” President Foster turned his gaze toward Matthew.
“Sir, no disrespect, but André has to finish high school.”
“He can finish at the military academy in the capital,” President Foster replied.
“Denver?” André balked.
The president turned toward André. “Yes, Denver. It’s the best military academy in the nation.”
André looked at his father. “I don’t want to be away from my son.”
The president’s mouth dropped. He closed it and glared in Matthew’s direction before snapping back to André. “You have a child?”
“Yes. He’s four days old,” André said.
“This just gets better and better,” the president muttered under his breath and his thoughts turned to the offspring of an alien and human with curiosity. That would be something to study, to observe, to make sure it wasn’t a monster in disguise.
André shot to his feet, his eyes flashing with anger at the new direction of the president’s thoughts. “No,” he growled and his hands balled into fists. “You will not take him away. Not my son, you son of a bitch.”
“André!” Matthew shot out of the seat. “You do not talk to the President of the United States like that!” he bellowed.
“He—”
“I know damn well what he was thinking,” Matthew interrupted, glaring at André. “Now I suggest you wait outside while we finish this conversation,” he commanded.
André glared at the president and then back at his father and he stalked out of the office, slamming the door behind him, his anger still simmering just below the surface.
MATTHEW SQUASHED HIS own anger and waited as the president played each possible scenario over in his mind. He sat back down, knowing the president did this with every major decision. He turned the chair in the direction of the president and hardened his gaze so it was just as unreadable as his thoughts.
Finally the president turned. “You have put me in a particularly sensitive spot Commander,” he began. “There are several routes I could take to address this situation. However, most of them are as despicable as the monsters that sent that boy into space.” President Foster paused and glanced at the door. “He is obviously hot-headed, but still displays a level of respect that’s admirable considering he’s only been in your care for six years. However, I’m troubled by the matter of teenage pregnancy.” He shook his head. “I’m not so sure it is in his best interest to stay here in Dallas.” He walked to the desk and leaned on it with his fists. “I want him under government control,” he said to Matthew.
“André isn’t something to be controlled,” Matthew said, holding his ground. “He is my son and you will not exploit him. After he finishes high school here in Dallas, I will personally recruit him into the armed service, where he will report directly to me through this base,” Matthew finished, pointing his finger on the desk as he stood. “Sir,” he added standing tall and proud, his eyes not wavering from the president’s.
Anger flared in President Foster’s eyes. “I don’t take kindly to my staff barking orders at me,” President Foster said.
Matthew nodded. “I don’t take kindly to anyone threatening my family, sir.”
The president crossed his arms. “I should fire you right now.”
“That’s your prerogative, sir,” Matthew said, his tone matching the bite of the president’s.
“Goddamn
it, Matt! We’ve known each other for years.”
“Yes we have, sir.”
The president’s mouth pinched with frustration. “Stop with the formalities for just a moment. Why the hell didn’t you tell me when you found him?”
Matthew weighed his response. “Mitch, your first instinct was to exploit him, not protect him. It would have been the same six years ago. You would have found a way to use him as leverage in your campaign.”
“Jesus Christ, you were always such a Boy Scout.” The president stood, crossing his arms. “I honestly don’t know whether to fire you or give you a commendation.”
Matthew smiled.
“The exposure of an alien cover-up would kill my chances of a second term in office,” he replied to Matthew’s smile.
Matthew nodded. Not to mention my career. “I’ll make sure this is kept under wraps for the time being,” Matthew said, wondering just how he was going to pull that off with André’s science teacher.
“This will have to come out at some point Matt, and I’ll be the one who will deliver the message.” President Foster leveled his gaze at Matthew, making his point without saying a word.
Matthew nodded, accepting the silent order. “Hopefully, at that point he will be enlisted and under my command, training an elite force of special officers.”
President Foster gave a curt nod. “Commander,” he said, signaling the end of the conversation. He turned and left the room.
Matthew pressed the intercom. “Please send André back in.” He disconnected without waiting for a response and sent his most harrowing glare at André when he walked into the room. He waited until the door closed and then let the frustration blow to the surface. “Do you have any idea how much trouble you are in, young man?” Matthew bellowed. “You do not speak to the president that way.”
André shrank into the chair, his eyes wide like he didn’t expect his father’s outburst.
“I want you in this office every day this summer from seven in the morning until five at night so I can keep an eye on you. Understand?”
André blinked and confusion filled his expression, creasing the space between his eyes.
“You have a summer job here,” Matthew said.
“You have got to be kidding me?” André balked.
“Do you want to live in a cage? Do you want Sam to grow up the same way?” Matthew snapped.
“No.”
“Then you better damn well do as I say because if this gets out before President Foster wants it to, that is exactly where you will end up.”
“Fine,” he grumbled and left Matthew alone in the office.
Matthew closed his eyes and collapsed in the chair, relief washing the tension from his taut muscles.
Chapter 14
June 2240
Working at the base and learning the inner workings of the military with his father proved to be more interesting than André expected. The only drawback was constantly dodging the sexual advances of the female workforce. And he truly hated getting up at six in the morning, especially after a night with a colicky baby, and tonight was no different.
“Sammy’s crying again,” Katrina mumbled and pushed André to the edge of the bed.
“I have to work in the morning,” André grumbled.
“Can’t you just go get the bottle so I can feed him?”
Her whine grated on his nerves. “Fine,” André snapped and got out of the bed, crossing the room to the crib. “What’s up, Sammy?” He picked up the baby and the stench drifted from the diapers, assaulting his senses. “Shit,” he muttered, changing Sam’s dirty diaper and sending an occasional glare at Katrina. She had fallen back to sleep and he was now wide-awake. “I swear, she does this just to piss me off,” he whispered to Sam and glanced at the clock. The display read a little after three in the morning.
Sam cooed up at his father, happy to be in a dry diaper and in his father’s arms.
“You’re not going back to sleep, are you?” He looked down at his son with a sigh. André took a seat in the glider and slowly rocked Sam, humming a familiar tune from the radio, the notes rumbling softly in his chest.
Katrina opened her eyes and smiled.
Her smile only served to irritate him further. He needed sleep but that didn’t stop her from making him help her at night. “You can take over now,” he said, getting up and bringing Sam to her. He slid under the covers and closed his eyes and within a few minutes, his breathing was even and deep, sleep taking over once again.
The shrill alarm filled the room at six and André slammed it off, turning his head away from the clock, closing his eyes.
Time to get up. His father’s words echoed in his mind.
“I know. I know,” he mumbled and rolled out of bed. A half hour later, he emerged from the bathroom, dressed in khakis and a dress shirt. He sat on the edge of the bed, slipping his socks and shoes on. “Love you,” he said and kissed the back of Katrina’s head, but she didn’t stir.
André walked downstairs, rolling the cuffs of his sleeves up and savoring the delectable scent of bacon hanging in the air. His mouth watered in response and when he rounded the corner into the kitchen, his mother placed a full plate of bacon and eggs on the table for him. “Thanks, Mom,” he said, reaching for the glass of juice next to his plate and sending her a tired smile.
“You’re welcome.”
Matthew folded the paper down. “I have an early meeting so you need to get moving.”
André cleaned off his plate in record time. He wiped his mouth with the napkin and dropped it on the table. After he put the dirty dishes in the sanitizer, he turned to Matthew. “I’m ready.”
“Is everything all right?” Matthew asked as André climbed into the front seat of the hovercraft.
“I’m just tired,” André said, rubbing his face and stifling a yawn. “Sam woke up a couple times last night.”
Matthew smiled and pulled out of the driveway, heading in the direction of their office. “It isn’t easy, now is it?”
Irritation prickled and André bit down on the derogatory comment that almost slipped out. Instead, he looked out the window, ignoring his father, and as they passed the lake, he sighed. God, I’d like to just take a day and go swimming.
“That’s not an option, André,” Matthew said, addressing his son’s thoughts. “You need the money for daycare during the school year.”
“I know,” he snapped, glaring at his father. “You remind me every chance you get.”
Matthew nodded. “Raising a child isn’t easy.”
“Please shut up. I’m already in a bad mood; I don’t need you making it worse.”
Matthew let out a small laugh. “I’ve got some paperwork that needs to be copied for a presentation that we’re giving tomorrow. Think you can handle it?”
André rolled his eyes and glanced sideways at his father. “Yeah, I can handle it.”
They walked into the office fifteen minutes later. As usual, the women they passed stopped whatever they were doing and stared at André. He heard every dirty thought and after the last month, he couldn’t help but grin.
“Wipe that grin off your face, will ya?” Matthew said.
“You’d be smiling if their thoughts were aimed at you.”
Matthew scoffed and glanced in André’s direction.
“Liar,” André said as they passed into his father’s office.
Matthew walked to the desk and picked up a thick stack of papers. “I need a hundred copies of this put into the binders that are in the copy room.” He handed the stack to André. “There should be enough paper and binders. If you run out, please see Emma; she can show you where the supplies are.”
André looked at the hefty stack and back at his father. “Color copies?”
“Yes.”
“No problem,” André said and turned, the level of his irritation growing at another menial task. At least when he was working on a computer, he could stay awake, but hanging in the copy room all day wa
sn’t a lively prospect. He yawned and slapped the pages on the copier, pressing the commands for color printing with the proper paper source.
Time dragged and every time he sat down, his head bobbed to his chest and he popped to his feet to stave off the exhaustion. Two hours and twenty binders later, Georgia, one of the new employees in the office, came into the copy room. André looked up, surprised by the interruption.
Heat from more than the copier filled the small space and she sent a come-hither smile over her shoulder as she shut and locked the door.
“What are you doing?” he asked, but he already knew what was on her mind, and he licked his lips, stepping back into the binder-filled counter behind him.
Georgia pulled out the Oriental pins holding her hair in a tight bun, dropping them to the floor. Her thick black hair fell in curls beyond her shoulders and she smiled, her full red lips curving deliciously. “What do you think I’m doing?”
Her voice said it all. André let out a nervous laugh, his voice mysteriously absent with the stunning woman approaching him and unbuttoning her shirt. Her blue eyes rivaled his and they scanned him from head to toe and back, turning his blood into a racing river of hormones.
She stopped in front of him, standing eye to eye with him and dropping her shirt to the floor, revealing a lacy pink bra.
“I’m married,” André said and took in her slim athletic form.
“So am I.” She ran her hands up his chest, finding and unbuttoning each latch of his shirt.
André inhaled, blocking all thoughts from his mind and fighting the raging lust torching his skin. When she pressed her soft lips against his, he closed his eyes and opened his mouth, allowing her tongue access, weakening his resolve. His hands found her waist and he pushed her gently away.
