by Brenda Hiatt
Though her worry was contagious, her explanation didn’t seem to make sense. “Wait, you mean you told him what I said about Rigel and me being bonded? Why should he be angry about that? What does it have to do with him?”
She didn’t answer, but gave me a look that was almost scared. Did that mean Rigel was right, that Sean already had a crush on me or something? But that was crazy. He barely knew me!
Before I could demand more information we reached the courtyard, which was empty except for Sean and Rigel. They weren’t fighting—yet—but they definitely didn’t look happy with each other. I pushed open the door and stifled a hiss when the cold wind hit me in the face. It was freezing out here! But half a second later, the cold was the last thing on my mind.
“—some nerve, barging in here and throwing around accusations,” Rigel was saying. “None of this is any of your business, anyway.”
Sean loomed over Rigel until they were almost nose to nose. He was several inches taller, though Rigel was broader through the chest and shoulders.
“The Sovereign’s welfare is the business of all of our people. You’d know that if you were any kind of patriot. You can’t put your own selfish feelings ahead of her safety.”
“I’d never put anything ahead of M’s safety!” Rigel nearly shouted. “You don’t have a clue about anything you’re assuming. Maybe you should—”
“I should what?” Sean said, leaning even closer.
They both shifted their stances, squaring off against each other, their hands clenching into fists. This was not my idea of civilized!
“Um, guys?” I said, loudly enough to distract them from each other.
They both whipped their heads in my direction, then relaxed slightly, taking a half step away from each other—but their fists didn’t unclench.
“Get inside, M,” Rigel said to me. “You shouldn’t be here right now.”
I heard Molly gasp from just behind me, and at the same time Sean snapped, “Don’t tell her what to do. Who the efrin do you think you are?” Then Sean turned to me and said, in a gentler voice. “It’s cold out here, Princess. I’m sure you’d be more comfortable inside.”
By now I was about equally irritated at both of them. “How about neither one of you tell me what to do? I’m not going anywhere while you two are acting like a couple of barnyard roosters. If this ridiculous display of testosterone poisoning is because of me, I absolutely ought to be here. Right, Molly?”
I glanced back at her. She gave me a deer-in-the-headlights look, but after a second she nodded. “Right. You guys need to calm down. You don’t want to get in trouble, do you?”
Sean glared at her, jaw rigid and blue eyes blazing, but then he took a visible deep breath. “Molly, why don’t you take Emileia back to the cafeteria?”
“Molly’s not taking me anywhere,” I informed him, feeling a hot rush of anger despite the cold. “Do you both want to get kicked out of school for fighting?”
The two of them looked at me, then at each other.
“Gee, who will protect me if both of you are suspended?” I deliberately laced my voice with sarcasm, but I could tell they both took the question seriously.
After a long, tense moment, Sean moved away from Rigel and took a step toward me. “I just wanted to explain to him that just because he happened to be the first Echtran you ever met, and the first one to tell you about . . . about everything, it doesn’t automatically give him some claim on you.”
“I never said it did.” Rigel also moved my way, like he was trying to get between Sean and me. “But just because you happen to be Allister’s precious nephew, you seem to think you’ve been appointed her protector or something. Like you have some claim on her yourself. You don’t.”
Sean rounded on him, fists coming up. “Talk about not having a clue—“
“Both of you stop talking about me like I’m some piece of real estate in a land dispute,” I interrupted, trying to maintain my anger to keep away my fear. “Sean, Rigel and I are together. Bonded. Deal with it. And Rigel, that bond doesn’t mean you have to go all macho on Sean. He hasn’t threatened me in any way, I told you that.”
But they both still looked like they wanted to start pummeling each other, glowering ferociously. “He’s the one who—” Rigel started to say, at the same time Sean said, “You don’t really think—”
“Hey!” I did shout this time. “Aren’t I supposed to outrank you guys? Just stop it! I want you both to . . . to shake hands and then back away from each other.”
I knew I was pushing it, but I didn’t back down. I just waited.
And waited.
Finally, a little to my amazement, Rigel gave a quick nod and extended his hand, and Sean did likewise. It had to be one of the most perfunctory, unwilling handshakes in history. Then they moved away from each other, which was what really mattered.
“Good,” I said. “And if I hear about you fighting later, I’ll . . . I’ll tell Shim and Allister to come up with some kind of suitable punishment, on top of anything the school does.”
I wouldn’t really do that, but I definitely wanted them to think I might. I turned to Molly.
“You’ll let me know if they do, won’t you?”
She nodded vigorously, her eyes still wide. Then the warning bell rang and she seemed to snap out of her trance, or whatever it was.
“Come on, Sean, let’s go,” she said to her brother.
He sent one last, warning glare at Rigel, then nodded, first to her and then to me—though the one to me was more like a little bow—and followed her out of the courtyard.
I let out my breath, only then realizing how on edge I’d been. Then I turned to Rigel. “So what was that about? Really?”
He didn’t meet my eyes right away, so I reached out and took his hand. The second I touched him, I gasped at the roiling emotions I sensed—anger, fear, jealousy, and again that tinge of sadness I didn’t understand.
“Rigel?” I prompted, alarmed.
He looked at me then, apology written on his face. He’d clearly registered my worry. “I’m sorry, M. I really need to learn to control my feelings better.”
I gently tugged him toward the courtyard door, since we needed to get to class. “I don’t ever want you to hide your feelings from me, Rigel. But you can’t let Sean—or anyone else—goad you into doing stuff you shouldn’t. What did he say to get you that upset?”
We went inside, into the lovely warmth of the hallway. Rigel put an arm around me and rubbed my arm to warm me faster. “It’s my fault you’re cold, too.”
“Never mind that. I’m fine. Answer me.”
Rigel sighed, then nodded. “Okay. As far as I can tell, Sean totally freaked out when he heard we were bonded. He doesn’t believe it—thinks I just made it up, like some kind of come-on line, to take advantage of you.”
I snorted. “Molly didn’t believe it either,” I told him, “but I thought she’d at least decided to give me the benefit of the doubt. Guess Sean wasn’t willing to do that.”
I was kind of ticked Molly had told him at all, since it had led to so much trouble, but that wasn’t fair. It’s not like I’d asked her not to. In fact, I’d half hoped she would tell him, so he’d be less likely to flirt with me. I definitely hadn’t expected it to backfire like this.
“Still, I shouldn’t have let him get to me like that,” Rigel said. “It put you in the middle and that’s not fair.”
“No, he’s the one who put me in the middle,” I pointed out. “Except I’m not really in the middle at all. I’m on your side, Rigel. Always. No matter what.”
To my relief, I felt the negative emotions start to drain out of him.
“Thanks, M,” he said as we reached the door to our History class. “I’ll do my best not to make you put that to the test.”
“I appreciate that,” I answered with a grin. “And I’ll do my best not to make that promise harder for you to keep.”
I wished I could believe Sean would help with th
at, too, but I knew I couldn’t count on it. My pleasant fantasy of all four of us becoming good friends was apparently just that—a fantasy. Unless I could somehow fix things.
Of course, Bri and Deb both wanted to know what was going on as soon as we joined them in History, and I’d totally forgotten to come up with something to tell them. Luckily, Bri made a guess of her own before I could say anything too stupid.
“It’s something to do with Rigel’s party Saturday, isn’t it?” she asked as I stammered.
I immediately seized on that. “Yeah, actually, it was. He, um, had an idea for something kind of crazy, and I needed to talk to him about it, make sure he didn’t commit to anything without asking his parents. I didn’t want him to get in trouble on his birthday. Right, Rigel?”
“Yeah, and she was right, just like she usually is,” he said, managing a chagrined smile. “I think we’ll keep things simple after all.”
“But if you can’t go crazy on your sixteenth birthday, when can you?” Bri protested. “Don’t wimp out.”
I sensed Rigel tensing beside me and knew he was thinking of Sean instead of his party. Quickly, I changed the subject.
“Trust me, it’s better this way. Hey, did you do the reading last night? I’m betting Rosa Parks will be on the final. Don’t you just love everyday heroines like that?”
Deb jumped in with an enthusiastic agreement and a tidbit about Rosa Parks she’d found on Wikipedia, which kept us on safe topics until class started.
Molly, I noticed, didn’t say a word during any of this and seemed preoccupied all during class. I wondered if she was still worried about the possibility of Sean and Rigel fighting—and whether she had a reason to worry that I didn’t know about.
Sean was on the other side of the room, which meant at least I didn’t have to worry about him saying anything that might blow my cover story or get Rigel upset again. Not for the next forty-five minutes, anyway.
CHAPTER 13
fine (feen): genetically related subsets of Martian population, each with certain attributes
I wanted to talk to Molly privately to find out what Sean’s problem was, but I didn’t get a chance that day or the next. She had cheerleading, and I was trying to spend every moment I could with Rigel. Besides the usual reasons, I wanted to keep tabs on his emotions . . . and keep him away from Sean.
Then, on the the bus ride home Friday afternoon, Molly sat with Trina (no cheerleading practice on Fridays) while I sat with Bri and Deb. I started to wonder if Molly was avoiding a one-on-one chat, but the moment we both got off the bus, she turned to me.
“M, I think we need to talk. Would it be okay if I came over to your house for a little while? Your aunt won’t be home, right?”
I was surprised she suggested my house instead of hers, then realized it made sense. If we were going to talk about Sean, we wouldn’t want her parents overhearing us, or Sean himself coming home from practice right in the middle of things.
“She won’t be home for at least an hour. And . . . I think you’re right.” A minute later, I unlocked the front door. “Let’s talk in the kitchen,” I suggested. “I’ll get us some milk and cookies.”
My aunt might be a pain in a lot of ways, but she did like to bake and kept the cookie jar filled most of the time. Today it was chocolate chip-walnut cookies that she’d made just last night.
“So,” I said, settling myself across the table from Molly, “what’s going on with Sean? Why is he so . . . hostile to Rigel? I really though they were going to get into a fight the other day.”
To my surprise, she blushed. “I was afraid they would, too,” she admitted. “I’m so glad you managed to talk sense into them before they did anything really stupid. You were amazing, by the way, how you handled them both.”
Now it was my turn to blush at the frank admiration in her eyes. “I mostly just distracted them long enough for their brains to start functioning again,” I said. “They’re both smart guys. Way too smart to let their emotions get them in trouble. I know why Rigel was upset. He’s basically jealous, no matter how much he denies it. But Sean seems to be deliberately saying stuff to make him jealous. That’s what I don’t get.”
Molly’s gaze slid away from mine. “It’s . . . complicated. And hard to explain to someone who didn’t grow up on Mars. Like, what a huge deal it was to find out you were alive after all, when everybody had thought there was no legitimate heir to the last Sovereign. So Sean feels—all of us feel—kind of . . . protective of you. Especially after the story came out about how close we came to losing you again last month.”
“But Rigel has done a super job of protecting me! Seriously. He literally saved my life twice last month. You’d think Sean would be grateful to him. Instead, he acts like Rigel’s the enemy or something.”
Molly bit her lip. “Not the enemy, no. But it does seem disrespectful, the way Rigel acts around you. To someone from Mars, I mean, especially someone Royal. Sean’s a really, really great guy, I swear, so please don’t think he’s—”
“Is it because he doesn’t believe in the graell?” I interrupted her. “He thinks it’s what you told me Tuesday night, just a . . . a line Martian boys use on girls?”
“Pretty much.”
I waited for her to continue, but she didn’t. “And you don’t believe me either. You acted like you did, but . . .”
She shrugged, not quite meeting my eye. “I didn’t want to get into an argument, especially where Sean might overhear us. But that’s the main reason I wanted to come over. I need to explain to you why this thing you think you and Rigel have can’t be the graell.”
“Why it—” I stared at her, confused. “But it is! It’s not just that we felt drawn to each other—I know that can happen between Martians apart from the graell. But honestly, Molly, you should have seen what I was like before I met Rigel. I was such a loser. A total klutz, with acne and glasses and a permanent bad hair day. I’m practically a different person now—because of my bond with Rigel.”
Molly smiled, though she didn’t look any less skeptical. “Yeah, Trina mentioned that. She thinks your aunt and uncle paid for contacts and a dermatologist. She also, um, thinks you and Rigel are sleeping together.”
I sucked in my breath. “That little—! Well, we’re not. Shoot, we hardly ever even get to be alone together, my aunt is so strict. Not that we would if we could, of course,” I quickly added. Though I couldn’t pretend I’d never fantasized about what it might be like to—
“Oh, I didn’t believe her, and I told her so,” Molly assured me. “I just thought you should know what she’s telling people. But, M, if you were never around any other Echtrans before Rigel, it wouldn’t take the graell to make you change. We all tend to resonate with each other to some extent. It’s why most Echtrans live in villages and neighborhoods together, and why we can feel it when others are nearby.”
“The brath. I know. But it’s different with Rigel. It’s hard to describe since you haven’t felt it, but I . . . I just know what we have is special.” My words sounded lame even to me.
“No, I can’t know exactly what you feel, but there’s still a lot you don’t know about our people—how we’ve evolved, how our society works, all kinds of stuff. Once I explain some of it, maybe you’ll get why Sean is so upset.”
Mystified, I just motioned for her to go ahead.
“Okay. You know that we’ve been evolving independently of Earth humans for more than two thousand years, right? Ever since the original colonists were abducted from Ireland or thereabouts by an alien race we know almost nothing about.”
I got up and refilled our milk glasses and the cookie plate, since I had a feeling this might take a while. “Rigel and his folks told me that part, yes, and your parents told me more. They said those aliens did genetic experiments?”
“That’s what we think, yeah. But after they left for good, fifteen hundred years or so ago, we continued with what I guess you could call eugenics—selective breeding—to enhan
ce our natural abilities. It’s why we’re mostly stronger, smarter, more empathic, et cetera, than the Duchas. Over time, our society developed a structure based on our genetic differences.”
“Wait—selective breeding?” I repeated, recoiling at the idea of arranged marriages, or worse. Nobody had mentioned that! “You mean you’re forced to . . . to breed with whoever some scientist or computer program says you have to, for the good of the, uh, race? That sounds awful!”
“No, it’s not like that! Not really,” she assured me, her gray eyes wide and earnest. “It’s more like . . . I guess you could call it tribes, or clans. A long time ago, like a thousand years, our people divided into different fines—” she prounounced it feens— “or bloodlines, according to innate genetic abilities.
“The smartest, most talented people formed the very first one, and became our natural leaders. A few generations later, that first group split into the Royal fine and the Scientific fine, which still form the basis for our two-party government system. Then those fines split into sub-fines. Nowadays, besides the Sovereigns, the Royal fine includes all our administrators, legal scholars, historians, and local government officials. The Scientific sub-fines are physicists, healers, engineers, geneticists, things like that.
“Meanwhile, everyone else separated into fines and sub-fines, too. Agriculture, manufacturing, mining, maintenance, arts, communications, systems management, groups like that. This must sound pretty complicated, huh?”
But I was fascinated, if still somewhat appalled. “So people are expected to marry within their own clan or, uh, fine?” I asked, trying to get back to her original point.
She nodded. “Abilities are stronger when both parents are from at least the same fine if not sub-fine. Everyone wants their children to be successful, so that’s a real incentive to stick to tradition.”
“Okay, I get it. Rigel’s parents aren’t Royal, so we aren’t supposed to be together. But we’re on Earth, not Mars, so what difference does it make? And what does it have to do with the graell? Other than the fact that you think it’s fictitious, I mean.”
