by Melinda Metz
As slowly as he could, he allowed the volume of his connection to the consciousness to come back up and slid into the ocean of auras.
He felt a flicker of panic from Isabel as they were surrounded by the billions of beings, as they became part of the one, the whole, the single living entitymade up of many — that was the consciousness.
The panic in Isabel swelled. Her — their — heartbeat began to flutter. Faster. Faster.
Abruptly his connection with Isabel broke. Max’s heart caught with fear. He reached for her, but all he felt was blackness.
“I can’t even describe how it felt,” Isabel said. She pulled her comforter tighter around her shoulders, even though Michael felt it was a little too warm in her bedroom already.
“It’s like I was . . . dissolving,” she continued, her eyes wide. “Or like I was being swallowed up. Then I guess I fainted. I’ve never fainted in my life.”
Lightning bolts of yellow fear zigzagged across her aura as she spoke. And when she glanced over at the communication crystals on her bedside table, her entire aura became the color of fear. The yellow light surrounding her gave her face a corpselike appearance.
“I probably would have fainted, too,” Michael told her. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to force all the little hairs back down. What she’d described sounded a lot like death to him. Wasn’t that what death was — complete loss of self?
A loud knock sounded at the door, and before he or Isabel could answer, Max came in and stood awkwardly at the foot of Isabel’s bed.
“I just wanted to see if you were okay,” he said.
“You should have thought about that before you forced me into the connection,” Isabel told him, her voice cold enough to turn lava to ice.
“I didn’t know it would make you feel so —,” Max told her.
“So much like I was dying?” Isabel interrupted.
Max picked a little glass kitten off her dresser and turned it over in his hands.
“Most of the time for me, it’s like a tropical ocean, with lots of salt in the water, so that you’re really buoyant,” Max explained. “Sometimes you hit a bad stretch — like a riptide, I guess. But most of the time . . .” He raised the kitten to his lips and licked one of its glass ears. Michael’s stomach turned just watching him. “I really thought you’d see that it was nothing to be so afraid of.”
“What are you doing to that thing?” Michael burst out.
Max’s eyebrows drew together. “I was just looking at it. So?”
“You were licking it,” Michael informed him, his face a mask of disgust. His best friend was getting freakier by the second.
Max put the kitten down fast but didn’t offer any explanation.
“Let me guess. Some of the beings wondered how it tasted?” Isabel asked.
“I just wanted to be sure you were okay,” Max said. He gave the communication crystals a pointed look. “You should use those before the pain gets too bad.” He glanced from Isabel to Michael and seemed to tense up. Then he hurried out of the room, shutting the door behind him.
Probably afraid he’d start licking something else and totally push Isabel off the sanity cliff, Michael thought.
“I feel like I don’t even have a brother anymore,” Isabel whispered, staring at the closed door.
Don’t go there, Michael ordered himself. If he started thinking about what Max had become, Michael would go flying off the sanity cliff himself. He had to concentrate on Isabel.
“You know if I — when I — get too weak to stop him, he’s going to force those crystals into my hand,” Isabel said, sounding like a small child. “He’ll make me connect whether I want to or not. Maria and Liz would probably even help him. Maybe even Alex, too, if he was through sampling every girl in the state,” Isabel added, still staring at the door.
Michael reached out and took her chin between his fingers. He forced her to look at him. “I’m not letting anybody do anything to you that you don’t want done.”
Was it right to promise her that? Was it right to agree to help her do something that could possibly kill her? Michael didn’t know for sure, but it was necessary. Isabel needed someone on her side, someone who’d go with her through hell and back if that’s what she wanted.
Michael had to be that guy. Right or wrong, he was seeing this thing through with her.
“I don’t know if you’ll be able to stop him,” Isabel said. “Not if he gets everyone else on his side. Unless —”
Suddenly her expression became determined, and she looked more like the Isabel he knew and loved than she had in the last few days. She threw off the comforter and swung her legs around so they were hanging off the bed.
“Unless we leave,” she said. “Now.”
Michael froze. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure,” Isabel said. “If Max can’t find me, I’m safe.”
Trevor’s stomach convulsed as he broke the connection with DuPris. He pulled in a deep breath and blew it out hard, trying to get his revulsion under control. Necessary sacrifices, he told himself. Necessary. Sacrifices. He took another breath, blew it out, then realized DuPris was staring at him with a mix of amusement and condescension.
“My human body still has responses that are difficult to control,” Trevor muttered. At least the responses to images of torture and destruction are tough, he thought.
“They are an extremely sensitive race,” DuPris commented. “In an episode of Laverne and Shirley, Laverne actually stopped speaking to Shirley just because she thought Shirley was too friendly to her boyfriend.”
“Uh, I didn’t see that one,” Trevor answered.
“I have it on tape,” DuPris answered. He picked the purple-green Stone of Midnight off the coffee table and cradled it in his hand. “It’s going to reach full strength even earlier than I hoped. Two more charging sessions and we should be there.”
Two more. You can deal with two more, Trevor told himself. He rubbed his sweaty palms on the sides of his jeans, hoping DuPris wouldn’t notice. There were dozens of members of the Kindred — no, more than that, hundreds — who had desperately wanted to join DuPris on Earth and work side by side with the rebel leader. Trevor had been chosen because of his relationship with Michael, but he was determined to prove that he would have been the best-possible choice under any circumstances. It was his destiny to destroy the consciousness, to finish the crusade that had been so important to his parents, the crusade they had given their lives for.
“I want to get some more work done on the ship today.” DuPris began to teleport before Trevor had a chance to respond, clearly assuming that he would follow.
Trevor concentrated on the deserted warehouse they were using for a hangar and allowed his molecules to loosen and then disperse. He welcomed the blackness that overcame him as his brain scattered.
When his body re-formed, DuPris had already begun repairing one of the bashed-in sections of the ship. Trevor chose a deep crater at the opposite end of the craft to work on. He still didn’t feel that comfortable around DuPris. With every move Trevor made, every word he spoke, he felt that he was being judged by the leader, judged and found to be somehow lacking.
At least he’d managed not to puke after their connections. It wasn’t much to be proud of. But it was something.
Trevor rested his hands on the crater and focused on moving the molecules back into the correct positions. The metal of the ship was usually extremely adaptable, able to shift from solid to near liquid with minimal energy use, allowing for both strength and flexibility. But the molecules of the metal had been coded with a block that made manipulating them almost impossible for any being not connected to the consciousness.
Trevor strained to push all extraneous thoughts out of his head. Thoughts of Michael. Of his parents. Of the nearness of DuPris. Only the molecules, he ordered himself. If he was going to get past the block, it would take every neuron of his human brain.
Slowly the molecules came into focus. He coul
d see them vibrating, see that the metal was in reality billions of separate entities. Trevor began to trace one of the molecules with his mind, searching for anything that felt off, anything that could tell him exactly how the block was coded. He examined the individual atoms and the bonds of positive and negative attraction that bound them together.
Everything appeared normal. So he moved on to the next molecule, scanning the atoms, their protons, electrons, neutrons, and quarks. Normal. On to the next. Normal. And the next. Normal.
Trevor felt frustration begin to build inside him. It could take the rest of his life just to examine the molecules in this one small bashed-in section of the ship.
He clamped down on the emotion — hard. He could allow no distractions. If his attention wavered even for a flicker, he could miss the code. He returned to his examination. Normal. Normal. Normal. Normal.
A dull ache started up behind his eyes. Trevor ignored it. Normal. Normal. Normal. Normal. Normal.
The ache sharpened into a knife of pain, stabbing him in the same spot again and again. Trevor risked a quick glance at DuPris. The leader had his attention on the ship. You don’t stop until he stops, Trevor told himself.
The pain moved deeper into his head, but Trevor continued his work. Normal. Normal. Normal. Normal. He gritted his teeth to keep from crying out. Normal. Normal. Normal.
“Take a break if you need one,” DuPris called. Trevor shot another glance at him and saw that he was lying on the floor.
Trevor’s fingers trembled as he pulled them off the metal. He lowered himself to the ground and stretched out on his back, the pain dulling almost immediately.
“Couldn’t we use the power of the fully charged Stone of Midnight for this job?” he asked.
DuPris didn’t answer, and Trevor’s blood immediately ran cold with fear. He turned his head to look at the leader. The cold expression in his green eyes made it clear that suggestions from Trevor were not going to be tolerated. Trevor forced himself to continue to meet DuPris’s gaze. He didn’t want the leader to sense any weakness in him.
“When the second Stone is charged and the ship is repaired, you will return home, bringing the Stone with you,” DuPris announced.
I’ve failed, Trevor thought. He’s seen my emotions go out of control when we connect, and he has decided he wants —
“You will select a squadron of soldiers from members of the Kindred,” DuPris continued.
Trevor blinked, and relief flooded through him. DuPris still planned to give him a role in the rebellion. He hoped his near giddy happiness didn’t show on his face.
“The squadron will escort you to the consortium chamber where the third Stone of Midnight is kept,” DuPris continued, turning his head to stare up at the cracked and dusty ceiling of the warehouse. “You will instruct the freedom fighters to kill anyone who tries to stop you. You must make sure your squadron is big enough and well armed enough that no matter what the losses, the squadron will be able to get you inside the chamber.”
“That’s a suicide mission,” Trevor burst out before he could censor himself. DuPris’s plan would involve thousands of deaths. “Couldn’t there be a . . . a more covert —”
“You will follow orders. So will those you command,” DuPris answered, voice harsh.
Trevor’s mouth snapped shut as his heart dropped. Why couldn’t he seem to keep his idiot thoughts unspoken? He pushed himself to his feet.
“Yes, Leader,” he said firmly, looking DuPris in the eye. He moved back into position in front of the ship, even though the pain in his head had returned full force the moment he stood up. He placed his hands on the metal, wanting to show DuPris that he was more than eager, more than willing —
To lead thousands to their deaths. The thought screamed through Trevor’s head unbidden.
If that’s what it takes, he told himself. If that is the sacrifice that is necessary, then it will be done.
Behind him, DuPris began to whistle. He paused for a moment. “Join me,” he called to Trevor.
Trevor didn’t turn around. He kept his eyes on the ship. “I don’t know that song,” he answered.
“Theme to the Andy Griffith Show,” DuPris answered. “One of the best theme songs, second only perhaps to the one for Gilligan’s Island.” He began to whistle again.
Trevor swallowed hard. Less than a minute ago DuPris was planning the deaths of thousands of the Kindred, and now . . .
Now he was whistling?
What kind of being was —
Trevor forced the thought away before he could complete it.
Liz heard her papa’s steps slow in front of her door. She smiled as they continued on. He hadn’t checked on her. He was really trying to show her that he trusted her, that he knew she wasn’t Rosa and he didn’t have to be afraid she would die from an overdose the way her sister had.
She rolled onto her side and straightened the rumpled covers. She’d been having a good dream before the sound of the footsteps woke her up. What was it? Something about her and Maria at the community swimming pool? Not quite that.
It wasn’t an Adam dream — that’s all Liz knew for sure. She also had to admit that she was a little disappointed that it hadn’t been an Adam dream.
Every once in a while Adam slipped into her dream orb and created something wonderful for her. Those little encounters with Adam, away from the group, away from real life, were magic.
Liz gazed at the phone on her bedside table. She could just call Adam up and invite him into her dream. She’d never done that before, but she could.
Except that would be encouraging Adam to hope that there could be something more between them. She knew he wanted that. She could see it on his face every time he looked at her.
“And I don’t want that,” she whispered, needing to hear the words aloud.
Except if she didn’t want that, why was she lying there thinking about Adam in the middle of the night? Liz reached for the phone, then hesitated, hand frozen in midair.
There’s nothing wrong with wanting to spend a little time with Adam, she thought. It’s fun. Fun is good. Hardly anything is fun anymore. It didn’t have to be some big deal. It didn’t have to be leading somewhere. And if she kept things light and friendly, Adam wouldn’t get the wrong idea.
Liz snatched up the phone and dialed, hoping Michael wouldn’t be the one who answered. She smiled as she heard Adam’s voice say, “Hello.”
“It’s Liz,” she told him. “Do you want to come out and play? I mean, do you want to meet up on the dream plane for a while?”
There was a moment of silence, and Liz’s palms started to sweat. “We don’t have to,” she added quickly.
“No. No! I want to. Definitely,” Adam exclaimed. “Just go to sleep, and I’ll be there.” He hung up without saying good-bye.
Liz hung up the phone and settled back down into her pillows, searching for the most comfortable position. It didn’t take too long before she began to feel the drifty, floaty, almost asleep sensations.
And then she was in the science lab, a titration experiment in front of her.
“Do you dream about school a lot?” Adam asked from behind her.
She turned and smiled at him. “At least it’s not the one where I’m taking a test naked,” she answered. A faint blush colored Adam’s cheeks. Liz didn’t even want to know where his thoughts had just taken him. “So what are we going to do? Are we going to be goldfish again? That was fun.”
“Whatever you want,” Adam told her. “You tell me, and I’ll make it happen.”
“Anything?” Liz twisted her hair into a knot on the top of her head. “That’s too hard. Too many choices.”
“Well . . . what’s your favorite color?” Adam asked.
“Emerald green,” Liz answered immediately. Then she realized that was her favorite because it was the rich, vibrant color of Max’s aura. “No, pink,” she said.
And the entire lab went pink. All shades. Fuchsia. Raspberry. Cherry. Strawberry.
Bubble gum. Rose petal. Cotton candy. Only Liz and Adam retained their original coloring.
Liz spun in a circle. “It’s like we’re inside a . . . I don’t know. A bottle of pinkness.”
Adam laughed. “Very scientific,” he teased. “Now, what’s your favorite flavor?”
“Peppermint,” Liz answered. Adam picked up a pencil from the lab table and held it up to her lips.
“Bite,” he instructed.
Liz took a tiny nibble, and the sharp, sweet taste of peppermint flooded her mouth. She picked up the closest beaker and, grinning at Adam, took a sip of the baby pink liquid inside. “Yum.”
“Okay, I know the lab is one of your favorite places. But choose someplace else, someplace you’ve always wanted to go,” Adam told her, his leaf green eyes appearing even more striking amid all the pink.
“A big city. Someplace as not-Roswell as you can get.” Liz took another sip of the liquid peppermint, thinking about it. “New York City,” she decided. “Top of the Empire State Building.” And poof!
They were there. Liz stared at the pink skyscrapers, so tall, they almost touched the pink clouds. “That one over there — that’s the Chrysler Building,” she told Adam.
“Hey, do you think I grew up underground or something?” Adam joked. “I read all about New York on the web.”
“It needs people,” Liz said, leaning over the railing and staring down at the street below.
“Up here with us?” Adam sounded surprised and a little disappointed.
“No, down there. Little ant people rushing around doing important New York City things.” Almost as soon as the words were out of her mouth, the street was filled with pink people striding purposefully along with pink briefcases and portfolios. “All this pink is making me dizzy,” Liz admitted.
And the whole world turned blue. Navy. Sky. Powder. Blueberry. Turquoise. Cobalt.
“Better?” Adam asked. He didn’t let Liz answer before he zapped everything yellow.
“Aaah! Too bright!” Liz cried.
Instantly everything went velvety black. Then a double fistful of stars appeared in the sky and a brilliant full moon. Each of the buildings took on a gentle glow.
