by Melinda Metz
Alex pushed himself away from the railing and wandered toward the food court. There was no way he would be waiting at the fountain like some anxious little puppy when Stacey showed. He'd get there when they agreed to meet, but not any earlier.
When he reached the first of the little food stands, Alex turned around. Okay, he didn't want to appear too eager, but that didn't mean he wanted to meet Stacey with questionable breath or the potential of some kind of mall food gunk stuck to his front teeth. He turned into the Gap instead. Nothing was safer than the Gap.
"Excuse me," a woman called, a tall, gorgeous woman who looked like she should be on a magazine cover and not in a dinky mall in Roswell. "I need a male opinion. Does this sweater look good on me?"
Alex knew she wasn't talking to him, but if she was, he'd have to say there wasn't a guy alive who wouldn't like her in that sweater-or anything else.
"Excuse me," the woman said again. Alex glanced around to see what fool could possibly be ignoring her and realized he was the fool. She was actually talking to him.
"That sweater should be paying you to wear it," he told her, pulling out one of his older brothers' lines. And then she laughed. Actually laughed in a flirty way. Good God almighty, she was flirting with him. I've gone through another wormhole, he thought. I'm on a planet of inverse male attractiveness. First Stacey Scheinin asks me on a could-be date, and now this.
He glanced at his watch and saw that he had only a few minutes to make it to the fountain on time. "You should buy it. Really," he called to the woman.
"You're leaving?" she asked, giving him a sexy little pout.
"Sorry," he said as he headed out the door. Definitely a strange new world. That was the only place a woman could direct one of those little pouts in his direction.
Alex trotted down the stairs instead of taking the escalator, feeling light and buoyant. As long as he was visiting this wonderful planet, he was going to enjoy it.
"I've been waiting two whole minutes," Stacey called from her seat on the rim of the fountain, spotting him before he spotted her. She gave him a pout, too.
"Two whole minutes without me? Are you all right?" Alex teased, confidence soaring after he'd scored two real-life, sexy pouts in less than ten minutes.
"I will be once you get your butt over here," she answered playfully. Alex knew Isabel hated Stacey's high, breathy voice, but Alex thought it was kind of cute.
Alex walked over to her, not too fast, and when he reached her, Stacey wrapped her arm around his waist, surprising him. He didn't expect her to get even a little physical so fast. Actually he didn't expect her to get physical at all.
Not that he was complaining or anything. He looped his arm across her shoulders, which he thought was the best response to the waist wrap. The double waist wrap, where the guy slid his arm around the girl's waist, made walking difficult. And the hand-in-the-girl's-back-pocket wasn't a move for amateurs. Unfortunately, Alex felt like he still fit in that category.
"Aren't those the most adorable little strappy pumps?" Stacey cried, towing Alex toward A Walk on the Moon, the mall's shoe store. And they were off. Doing the promenade. Window shopping, or at least pretending to, but mainly walking the lower loop of stores, checking out who was with whom and being checked out in return.
Alex caught an envious look from Craig Cachopo, who was selling shoes since he'd quit his UFOnics job. He gave Craig a cool little yeah-I-know-we-go-to-the-same-school nod, and then Stacey was propelling him to the next store.
"Oh, that's tacky," she announced, shaking her head at a denim dress with a big sequined sunflower over the pocket. There was no one from school in the vicinity of that store, and Stacey kept them moving along. Alex just went with the flow, picking up another envious look as Stacey came to a stop in front of the jewelry store. "Aren't those the most adorable little earrings you've ever seen?" she exclaimed.
Alex murmured something agreeable. He spotted Steve Lydick, center of the basketball team, coming at them from the opposite direction. Alex pretended to study the jewelry display with Stacey, but he kept track of Steve from the corner of his eye. He knew the exact second that Steve saw him with Stacey-because a second after that Steve dropped his icecream cone on one of his size-thirteen sneakers.
Stacey caught the spill and giggled. "Hope we don't see you doing anything like that on the court," she called, hustling Alex over to a combination Indian artifacts-alien souvenir shop. She pointed to an inflatable green alien wearing a rhinestone tiara.
"How awful is that?" she said snidely. "Who would buy that thing?"
"Royalty should never be mocked that way," Alex said solemnly. "What would Princess Diana have said?"
"Exactly," Stacey said, smiling up at him.
Alex's eyes wanted to roll very badly, but he wouldn't let them. Yeah, Stacey was a fluffhead, but he was finding it amusing to spend an afternoon as part of the elite. When he and Isabel had made one of their few public appearances, people had always been whispering behind their backs, speculating on what she could possibly see in him.
But that wasn't happening with Stacey. Alex even caught a few girls shooting them glances that seemed to be asking what he saw in her. But no. That wasn't possible. He was probably just heady from Stacey's perfume.
After one full mall circuit and many "isn't that adorable" and "oh, that's tacky"s, Alex was thinking maybe the whole popularity thing was a huge sham. Were all popular people as bored as he was right now? Was Stacey actually enjoying this?
"Okay, there's still one place we haven't gone yet," Stacey said coyly. She maneuvered him into a tiny alcove with a drinking fountain and one bench. In all the years he'd been coming to the mall, Alex had never even seen it before.
"Is there something adorable or tacky back here?" he joked.
A tiny wrinkle appeared between Stacey's eyebrows. "You mean you don't want to?" she asked.
And then he got it. He'd just been initiated into one of the mall make-out areas. He sat on the bench and pulled Stacey down next to him. That's all the invitation she needed. A moment later her soft, bubble-gum-lip-gloss-flavored mouth was busy kissing him.
I don't even like this girl, Alex thought. Liz would have a fit if she could see me. She'd say I'm shallow and superficial and-
Stacey nipped his earlobe as if she could sense that his mind was wandering. Alex responded by concentrating on kissing the side of her neck until she was squirming with delight.
Forget Liz, he thought. This is just for fun. And I was held prisoner on a hostile planet. If anyone deserves some just-fun time, it's Alex Manes.
***
"This is an exact replica of the Partridges' living room," Elsevan DuPris told Trevor. "I'm assuming you have heard of The Partridge Family. 'Really came together when Mom sang along,'" he warbled.
"I've seen a couple of episodes. The materials about Earth provided by the Kindred were very detailed," Trevor answered. He shifted uncomfortably on the sofa. It didn't feel right to be sitting so close to the leader of the rebellion-the being Trevor had idolized for as long as he could remember.
"Ah, the Kindred," DuPris said. "How are those of the Kindred?"
"It is becoming more and more difficult for them to stay hidden from those who have joined the consciousness," Trevor explained, eager to prove his usefulness to DuPris. "But obtaining the second Stone of Midnight and knowing it is in your hands has given them more hope than they have felt in generations."
DuPris nodded. "The era of the consciousness is almost over. Someday historians will look back at it and see it for the barbaric creation it was. They will realize it reduced sentient beings to the state of hive insects without individual freedom or even the desire for individual freedom."
"I will do anything to help you shatter the consciousness," Trevor vowed. "I will make any sacrifice."
He had dreamed about having the chance to say those words to the rebel leader for so long, but a lance of pain ripped into him as he flashed on what he'd already los
t. Michael was his brother, his only living relative. He'd welcomed Trevor into his home, into his life. And now-
DuPris reached out and grabbed Trevor by the wrist. Trevor felt a tingling sensation in his brain and then a searing burst of heat.
"Thinking about your brother. How sweet," DuPris said sarcastically. He let Trevor go, then combed his slicked-back hair with his fingers. "Don't you see that sentiment for family groupings is the same kind of thinking that brought about the creation of the consciousness? Every being must take responsibility for itself. It is the only way our planet will ever reach its full potential."
Trevor nodded, clamping down on the burst of anger he felt at DuPris for reaching in and snatching thoughts out of his head. He hoped there weren't any traces of the anger flickering in his aura. DuPris deserved complete loyalty. It was through him that the beings of the Kindred would gain their freedom.
"The first thing we have to do is reinvigorate the damaged Stone of Midnight." DuPris pulled a piece of velvet out of his pocket. He unwrapped it, revealing the lifeless Stone. "Every day you and I will connect and join powers, then send energy into the Stone. In several weeks it will be back to its full strength," he continued, placing the Stone on the table.
Again DuPris took Trevor's wrist. A few moments later the connection was made, and images from DuPris's mind invaded Trevor's.
An almond-shaped, pupil-less eye being cut from its socket by a clawed finger. A body consumed by fire, tentacles waving until they shriveled to dead strings. A mother and baby felled by a taser blast.
"No. No. Don't make me see it." Trevor's human body responded to his horror, his heart thrashing in his chest.
But the images kept coming. A hand reaching into a metal-studded abdomen as if it were as soft as clay and pulling free the secondary appendage. A young boy being forced to watch as his father was tortured.
Trevor tried to jerk his hand free, but DuPris tightened his grip, fingers brutal. "Little boy, did you actually think a revolution could be fought without blood?" DuPris asked, the question detonating in Trevor's head.
"I misjudged you," DuPris continued. "I thought that you were ready to join the rebel force, to work side by side with me."
"I am," Trevor gasped, fighting against the nausea still sweeping through his body in response to what he'd seen. "I am," he said again, more forcefully. This was what he'd been waiting for his whole life. Nothing was more important than the shattering of the consciousness. Nothing.
"Then join your power with mine," DuPris instructed, loosening his grip slightly.
Trevor focused every molecule of his being on building a power ball with DuPris. Expanding it out, out, out until his body trembled with the strain.
DuPris gave the signal, and he and Trevor hurled their ball of power at the Stone. Trevor opened his eyes-he hadn't even realized he'd closed them-and looked down at the Stone. Some of its green-purple light had returned. Not much more than a flicker. But it was the most beautiful thing Trevor had ever seen.
"You did well." DuPris released Trevor and clapped him on the shoulder. "There are many who brag about being willing to sacrifice anything, then fall apart at the first real test."
Trevor kept his eyes on the Stone. "I want to ask you something," he told DuPris.
"So ask." DuPris sounded bored.
"Michael said you killed… our parents." Trevor forced himself to look directly into the rebel leader's eyes.
"I'm sure you know the history of the cause," DuPris answered. "I stole one of the Stones of Midnight and escaped with it by stowing away on a ship-your parents' ship. I planned to use Earth as my base until I acquired the other two Stones necessary to destroy the consciousness."
Faint threads of red appeared around DuPris, and Trevor realized for the first time that the rebel leader had managed to cloak his aura. Just those few streaks of anger were visible, and they quickly vanished.
"Your parents were the only two members of the rebellion on the ship, something that, of course, was kept secret from the others," DuPris continued. "When the others discovered my presence on the ship, they imprisoned me. They planned to return me to our planet for judgment by the consortium."
Tears sprang to Trevor's eyes. He had learned about the way the human body responded to emotion in the materials given to him by the Kindred, but he was still taken aback every time his feelings affected him physically. He blinked quickly, hoping DuPris hadn't noticed Trevor's wet eyes.
"So you caused the ship to crash," Trevor said, struggling to keep his voice steady.
"A necessary sacrifice. I had to keep the Stone in my possession," DuPris replied.
"A necessary sacrifice," Trevor replied. He understood the logic. The lives of a few beings could not be allowed to cripple the rebellion.
"Any more questions?" DuPris asked. "I want to get back to redecorating the master bedroom. I've chosen a Mr. and Mrs. Brady theme."
"No more questions," Trevor answered.
Within moments DuPris had teleported out of the room.
Trevor returned his gaze to the Stone, allowing its beauty to calm him. The power of the Stones will bring all on my planet freedom, he thought. Freedom.
He'd been taught from childhood that the rebellion demanded sacrifice and that it was a gift to be asked to give an offering.
"I have sacrificed all I have," he whispered. "I have given the rebellion everything. It is an honor." Trevor felt tears sting his eyes again. Frustrated with his body, he wiped them away with his sleeve.
FOUR
Michael walked through the front door of his house-or tried to. He didn't get very far because his dad blocked his way.
"You don't live here anymore," he told Michael. "We decided we don't want you. You're staying across the street now."
"Oh, okay," Michael said, trying to sound casual, as if his dad had just asked him to run to the store or something. "Can I get my stuff?"
"You don't have any stuff. We gave you everything you had, and we're keeping it," his father told him gruffly. He gave Michael a push, and he stumbled back out onto the front walk. Michael didn't wait around to be pushed twice. He turned and bolted, his heart pounding like crazy. He started toward the house directly across the street but froze when he saw a woman in the front yard. She was holding a shotgun, aiming it directly at his chest.
"We don't have any more room here," she announced.
"But my dad said-" Michael began.
The woman cocked the rifle. "Another step and you'll be pushin' up friggin' daisies," she warned him.
Scared out of his mind, Michael took off down the street… and found himself in the doughnut shop, a plate of crullers loaded with hot sauce in front of him.
"Nice dream you were having," Trevor commented as he appeared in the seat across from Michael.
Michael spit out the bite of cruller he'd just taken. "Listen carefully. I don't ever want to see you again. If I do see you again, you are not going to be a happy guy-"
"I want to explain-" Trevor began.
"Explain what?" Michael demanded. "Explain why you betrayed me? Why you fed me that line about coming here just to visit your long lost brother? Or explain about why you tried to kill Max? Or maybe why you've decided to become the lapdog of the guy who killed our parents?"
"Actually, all of that," Trevor answered, gazing intently at Michael. As always Michael felt startled by how alike his eyes and Trevor's were. "You're the only family I have left," Trevor continued. "And by the way, your good friend Max? He tried to kill me, too."
Michael pushed the plate of crullers aside and rested his elbows on the Formica table. "You want to explain?" he said. "Fine. Start with why you lied to me, and go from there."
"I was sent to Earth to take the Stone from Alex and give it to the rebel leader. You call him DuPris," Trevor began, all business. "I was chosen for the mission because as your brother-"
"You could infiltrate the group," Michael finished for him, his eyes flashing. "So you used me
. What the hell? It's not like we knew each other or anything. We were just brothers." He hated the emotion he could hear coursing through his voice. He hated that Trevor actually had the power to…
To hurt him.
"You've got to understand about the consciousness. It's evil, Michael," Trevor explained. "Shattering it is more important than saving the feelings of any individual. Me. You."
"Our parents?" Michael demanded, feeling his face redden. "Did you ask your idol about them?"
"Yeah. I did," Trevor admitted. He hesitated, staring down at the pink tabletop as if it fascinated him.
"He didn't deny it, did he? And you're still working for the guy." Michael jerked to his feet. "That's all I need to hear." He started toward the door, but Trevor grabbed him by the elbow and hauled him back.
"No, it's not all you need to hear," he said harshly, his fingers pressing into Michael's flesh.
"Let go of my arm," Michael ordered.
"Not until you-"
Michael didn't let him finish. He pulled back his free arm, made a fist, and slammed it into Trevor's jaw. Trevor loosened his grip, and Michael started for the door again. This time one of the tables screeched across the room and barricaded the exit. "Oh, you want to play." Michael turned to face his brother. There was no need to worry about who had more powers in the dream plane. If Michael thought something, it would happen. At least once he realized he was dreaming, which, thanks to Trevor, Michael did.
In a flash a second table knocked Trevor to the ground and pinned him to the floor.
"Are you afraid of what you're going to hear? Is that it?" Trevor cried.
The table on top of him exploded into Formica shards, sharp as knives. Every one of them flew straight at Michael.
Michael didn't even flinch. He thought them right back at Trevor, who spun them around again. The shards hovered between them, shaking as Michael and Trevor both tried to control the weapons.
