The Seeker rh-3

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The Seeker rh-3 Page 2

by Melinda Metz


  "I thought we could use some visual aids," Ray said.

  The earth shrank down to Ping-Pong ball size, and now Michael could see the observation deck and the team staring through the window at the planet. They fit the descriptions of the bodies witnesses had seen at the crash site-small, hairless torsos; long, thin arms; large heads with huge, almond-shaped black eyes.

  Except none of the descriptions talked about their skin. How it was absolutely smooth, without even the tiniest wrinkle. And how it almost appeared metallic.

  Michael felt his throat tighten as he studied the team members. They're all dead now, he thought. All except Ray. And they were so happy that day, so full of life.

  Wait, where did that thought come from? Michael realized Ray wasn't just giving them pictures-he was giving them emotions, too. Michael could feel the pride the group of scientists felt in completing their job, their excitement about going home. And… and their pleasure that their children would be born there.

  My mom and dad are in that group, he thought. Part of that excitement is coming from them. They really wanted me. He felt a hard, hot lump form in his throat. He swallowed, trying to get rid of it, but it remained lodged in place. They've been dead more than fifty years, he reminded himself.

  "We didn't know that our prisoner had escaped," Ray continued. "Prisoner?" Max asked softly.

  "His name was… well, it will be easier if I give him a human name. Let's call him Clyde-I never liked that name. Clyde was a stowaway when we left our planet," Ray explained. "He had stolen one of the Stones of Midnight-at least that's as close a translation as I can give you. The Stones are a source of tremendous power. Only the members of the consortium who govern our planet are allowed to use them. After Clyde stole the Stone, he managed to hide on board our ship. We discovered him on our way here and slapped him in a hibernation cylinder. We planned to leave him there until we could turn him over to the consortium."

  "But when you were starting back, this Clyde guy escaped," Michael said. He didn't like the way this story was heading.

  Ray didn't answer. Michael glanced at him and saw that his eyes were locked on the image of the team on the observation deck.

  "I haven't looked at this one in a long time," he said. Michael had to strain to hear him. It was as if Ray was talking to himself. "I miss my friends," he added slowly.

  He's all alone here, Michael thought. I have Max and Isabel and Maria, Alex, and Liz. But he's all alone.

  Ray gave himself a little shake. "Yes," he told Michael. "Clyde escaped. I don't know how he did it, but he broke free from the hibernation cylinder, found the Stone, and came looking for us."

  Michael leaned forward and watched as Clyde appeared on the observation deck. He looked just like the others, except he held a small stone that pulsed with a green-purple radiance. Two of the team members rushed toward him, but the stone shot out spears of sizzling light that knocked them to the ground.

  "Dead?" Max asked. Michael already knew the answer. The grief and fury pouring into him from Ray's holographic image told him everything.

  "Dead," Ray said. "He killed the rest of the team the same way. I don't know how I survived. Maybe he tried to kill too many of us at the same time. Even the Stones don't have unlimited power."

  The image floating in the air changed to a single figure lying on the floor of the ship. Michael knew it was Ray. And he knew in that moment Ray had been near death. His aura had a deep ring of black around it.

  "Clyde turned the ship back to earth. I'm sure he thought it would be a good place to hide out," Ray continued his story. "But he wasn't experienced in flying the ship. And he crashed."

  The holographic image wavered, then disappeared. Ray rubbed his face with his fingers. "When I came to, I knew I didn't have much time. I was sure the humans would have seen the ship hit the ground. I hid your incubation pods in the cave. By the time I went back for the last one, the humans were already there. They had the whole ship surrounded. I couldn't get back inside, and I didn't want to lead them to you."

  "So what did you do?" Max asked.

  "I snuck away as fast as I could in the opposite direction," Ray said. "You know the rest. I opened the UFO museum… and waited for you to find me. If you approached me, I didn't think it would attract any unwanted attention."

  "But how did you know it was us?" Max asked. "I couldn't tell you were an alien, so how did you know I was?"

  "Well, I knew when you would break out of your pods, more or less," Ray said. "So I knew how old you'd be as a human. And also, I read your mind a little when you were working at the museum."

  "What?" Michael cried. "We can't read minds!"

  "Be patient," Ray told him. "I can teach you."

  "Can you also teach us how to do whatever it was you did to stop Valenti?" Max asked. "If you hadn't helped us last night, he would've found out the truth about us all."

  "I can try," Ray said. "But you are the first of us to have grown up on earth. I don't know how that will have changed your powers."

  "Is the sheriff going to remember anything that happened?" Max asked.

  I should have asked that question, Michael thought. Valenti definitely had seen Liz in the mall last night. He probably had seen me and Maria and Alex, too.

  "He probably lost at least five minutes of memory," Ray said.

  That was cutting it pretty close. But it was enough. Valenti wouldn't remember much of what happened after he shot Nikolas. He wouldn't remember chasing them out of the mall.

  Ray yawned. "I'm going to kick you guys out now. It took a lot of power to hold Valenti like that-I'm still wiped out." He grinned at them. "I'm not as young as I used to be."

  Max frowned. "How old are you, anyway? How long do we live?"

  Ray shrugged. "Time isn't measured the same way on our planet as it is here. And since we're on earth, our bodies may have adapted to age at a normal earth rate."

  Michael studied Ray's unlined face. The guy didn't look a day over forty, but he'd been living here for at least fifty years.

  Ray stood up. Max, always polite, stood up, too.

  "Wait a minute," Michael said. "I want to hear the rest of the story. What happened to Clyde?"

  "Dead," Ray answered. "I saw his body on my way to release your pods. Please, guys, I really have to rest."

  Michael squinted at Ray's aura. Maybe talking about the crash had been too painful for him. The blue-green color was now covered with a net of deep purple, something Michael had seen on people who had suffered a death in the family.

  "Thanks," Max said, pulling Michael to his feet. "Thanks for everything."

  "Yeah. You saved our lives-twice," Michael added. He headed to the door.

  "Happy to do it," Ray said. "Come back anytime you want."

  Michael hesitated with his hand on the doorknob. He turned back to Ray, but he couldn't quite bring himself to make eye contact. "Do you know if I have any brothers or sisters… back home?" he whispered.

  Ray shook his head. "Siblings are rare on our planet," he said gently. "Each set of parents is only allowed one birthing cycle. Sometimes two children will hatch out of the same pod-"

  "Like Isabel and me," Max interrupted.

  "Yep," Ray answered. "But it happens very seldomly."

  "Just curious," Michael said. Brothers and sisters probably would have been a pain in the butt, too, he forced the thought. He walked out the door without another word. Max followed him down the stairs. They climbed into the Jeep and stared at each other for a moment.

  "So now we're supposed to head to Flying Pepperoni for pizza, right?" Michael finally asked. Yeah, that's what you did when you got absolute proof you had no family anywhere in the entire universe-went out for pizza.

  "Right. We have to give a full report to Liz, Maria, and Alex," Max answered. He started the Jeep and pulled out of the UFO museum parking lot. "I told Liz I'd pick her up on the way."

  "Isabel should be with us for this," Michael said. "She'll want to hear abo
ut the crash and our… our parents."

  "Um, she's not in great shape," Max admitted. "When I left the house, she was sitting in the middle of her bed. Just sitting there with the lights off."

  "She wasn't cleaning out her closet or reorganizing her sock drawer or anything?" Michael asked.

  Max shook his head, his expression troubled.

  Michael frowned. He'd known Isabel since she was a little girl, and he knew that when she was upset, she didn't mope around or listen to sad music or even slam doors. She did things like arranging all her sweaters by color from dark to light, then arranging them all again by the kind of yarn they were made of.

  "She's messed up in a big way," Max said. "I hated Nikolas, but he was her boyfriend. It's got to be hard to deal with watching someone you care about get killed."

  "Then she shouldn't be alone," Michael said. If Izzy was in trouble, she should be with him. He wasn't going to let her sit by herself in the dark.

  "She refused to come out of her room," Max told him.

  "Drop me off at your house," Michael replied. "Pick up Liz, then come back. I'll have Isabel ready to go."

  *** 2 ***

  "I want us to be just friends," Max whispered as he drove toward Liz's house. "I love you, but we have to be just friends."

  No matter how long he practiced saying it, it would never feel right. He didn't want to be friends with Liz. He wanted so much more.

  "Being near me puts you in danger," he said loudly. "Look what Valenti did to Nikolas. He could do the same thing to you."

  Now that felt a little better. Max would do anything to keep Liz safe. Anything to avoid feeling what Isabel was feeling right now.

  Max turned onto Liz's street. He hoped Michael would have better luck with his sister than he had. Isabel had barely even looked at him when he tried to talk to her this morning. But if anyone could get through to her, it was Michael. Even when they were little kids, Izzy and Michael had always understood each other. It used to make Max jealous sometimes, but right now he was glad his sister had someone to talk to.

  He couldn't read minds the way Ray could, but he could always feel the emotions of Isabel and Michael. And at the moment Isabel's pain was crashing down on him in never-ending waves. Michael must have felt it, too.

  Poor Isabel. He was only getting the "lite" version of what she was going through, and even that was enough to make him feel sick. If he were in Isabel's situation, if Sheriff Valenti had shot someone he loved… if he'd shot Liz…

  Max couldn't complete the thought. You're going to make sure that never happens, Max told himself.

  "We have to be just friends," he tried out the sentence again. He pulled the Jeep into Liz's driveway. She was out the door in an instant-she must have been watching for him. He stared at her, wishing he could stretch this moment out and make it last the rest of his life. That's about how long it would take for him to get tired of the way the sun made Liz's long dark hair shine. The way that dimple in her left cheek deepened when she smiled at him. The way her low-slung jeans showed off the deep curve of her waist. The way-

  Liz climbed in the Jeep and the moment ended. "Are you going to tell me everything now, or do I have to wait?" she asked.

  "It's a pretty intense story," Max said. "I'd rather only tell it once, okay?"

  "Are you all right?" she asked. She rested her hand lightly on his arm, and Max's breath caught in his throat. He bet kissing any other girl in school would have less effect on his body than that one simple touch from Liz.

  "Yeah," Max answered. He knew he had to say something to her. But right now the only thing he could think of was her hand on his arm. Her soft skin touching his, sending waves of heat through his body. He had to get away from her hand. Then he would be able to function, able to do something other than imagine how it would feel to take her in his arms…

  He reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a pack of gum. He didn't want gum. He just wanted a way to move his arm out from under her hand without looking like that's what he was doing.

  "Um, I wanted to talk to you about what happened last night," he said in a rush.

  A deep flush crept up Liz's throat and spread to her cheeks. He knew exactly what she was thinking about-their cramped little hiding place under the counter at Victoria's Secret.

  Liz had had to lie on top of Max, her body stretched out against his. He knew he shouldn't have touched her. He knew that was breaking the rule-the just-friends rule-but he hadn't been able to resist running his fingers over her face. Tracing her perfectly arched eyebrows, her sharp cheekbones, her soft lips.

  When she had started touching him back, he'd had no choice but to wrap his hands in her thick silky hair and kiss her. A kiss that totally moved him. They had kissed before that night. Three kisses. Max remembered each of them, had gone over them again and again in his mind, trying to relive them. But this last kiss… it took them to a whole other level of kissing.

  Max yanked his thoughts back to the present.

  "I just wanted to say that…" Max hesitated. "I wanted to say that even with what happened, I still don't want to… I still think we should keep on as friends, as just friends. It's too dangerous for you otherwise. If you get close to me, Valenti gets close to you."

  "Max-" Liz reached out for him again, her eyes concerned.

  Max jerked away from her. "Last night Valenti proved how dangerous he is," he interrupted. "He shot Nikolas. Isabel said he didn't even ask any questions first. He just pulled out his gun and blew Nikolas away."

  Max stole a glance at Liz. Her beautiful dark eyes shimmered in the sunlight. Shimmered with tears, Max realized.

  He wanted to pull the car keys out of the ignition, hand them to her, and beg her to stab him through the heart a couple dozen times. That would be a lot less painful than having her look at him the way she was looking at him right now-like he had hurt her more than she'd realized she could be hurt.

  "I didn't mean to confuse you or mess with you or anything," Max added quickly. "The situation just got out of control. I won't let it happen again, I promise."

  "You promise," Liz repeated dully.

  He waited, but she didn't say anything else.

  I won't have to worry about keeping that promise, Max thought. After the way I just destroyed her, Liz will never let me touch her again.

  ***

  "Did you just take a sip of my orange soda?" Alex exclaimed.

  "Huh?" Maria glanced down at her hand and realized she was holding Alex's glass. "Oh. Sorry," she mumbled. She slid it across the table to him.

  "No, go ahead and finish it," Alex said. "Flying Pepperoni has the best orange soda in town. I just didn't think a natural foods baby like you would appreciate the perfect blend of sugar, water, and artificial colors and flavors."

  "I thought I was drinking my mint tea," Maria admitted. Her mind was a million miles away. Actually, that wasn't true. Her mind was right here in Roswell-over at Ray Iburg's. "Do you think there might be a whole community of aliens in Roswell?" she asked Alex.

  "They do seem to be popping up all over the place lately," Alex answered.

  Maria ran her finger around the rim of her cup, collecting all the drops of moisture. "Everything's going to change," she murmured.

  Alex looked alarmed. "Why?"

  "Well, if there's this whole group of aliens, Michael, Max, and Isabel are going to want to be a part of it," Maria said. "And we can't be a part of that."

  "But… but Isabel needs us," Alex said urgently. "They won't just drop us the minute they find other aliens. They won't."

  Maria shrugged. "Still, it won't be the same." She stared into her tea. What would she do without Max joking around with her, calling her pea pod? Or Isabel's hilarious fashion critiques of everyone who walked by in the quad? Or Michael crawling through her window late at night just to hang out?

  Yeah, that's what she would miss the most. But if Michael found out there was a whole assortment of alien girls available to him,
it's not like he'd still be showing up at Maria's every couple of nights. She was your basic, ordinary human chick. How could she compete with girls who would have so much more in common with Michael, girls who would share his species memories of his home planet? Girls who were probably totally beautiful in some exotic, enticing, non-cute-girl-next-door kind of way.

  "Why is everyone so late?" Alex complained.

  "Ray must have had a lot to say," Maria answered.

  "So what's your excuse?" Alex asked. "You were late, too."

  Maria wondered if Alex was having the same kind of thoughts she was-except about Isabel, not Michael. That would explain why he was getting so annoyed.

  "Alex, you have to be at least fifteen minutes late for it to count," Maria explained. "Plus I have a great excuse. My clock is doing something weird. When I was getting dressed, it skipped ahead, like, five minutes in one jump."

  "There they are. Finally," Alex announced.

  Maria glanced over her shoulder, her eyes going directly to Michael. His face wasn't giving any clues about how it had gone at Fay's. He'd shoved whatever emotions he was feeling way down.

  Michael slid into the booth next to Maria. He pulled Isabel down next to him and looped his arm around her shoulders. Maria didn't know what she was supposed to think about that. He chose to sit next to her, which was good. But he had Isabel pulled up close against him, which was-

  Get over yourself, Maria thought. Isabel just went through something world shattering. That's what you should be thinking about. Not whether Michael's sitting closer to you or her. Maria rummaged around in her purse and pulled out a vial of tangerine oil. She reached across Michael and held it out to Isabel. "I like to smell this when I'm… not feeling so great," she said. "I want you to try it, okay?"

  Isabel didn't answer. Her blue eyes were focused on the sugar shaker in front of her. She's trying not to cry, Maria realized. She'd never thought of Isabel as a crying kind of girl. Isabel was so strong, the kind of person who didn't take anything from anyone. But it was like the steel inside her had turned into glass, glass so fragile, a puff of air could shatter it.

 

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