by Brenda Hiatt
My frustration over Rigel’s stubbornness made me even more determined to make Aunt Theresa talk about the whole Martian thing. I even rehearsed an opening for when she got home, but she didn’t give me a chance to use it.
“If you’ve finished your homework, Marsha, you need to run over to the antique store to have your photo taken,” my aunt said as she walked in, without so much as a hello.
I frowned. “Just me?”
“Yes, they’re doing individual pictures rather than the Court as a group. Scheduling issues, they said.”
Maybe if I got it over with quickly, there’d still be time to make Aunt Theresa listen. Taking my bike since that was faster than walking, I headed over to Duncan’s Antiques on Topaz Street. I touched base with Rigel on the way, hoping he could meet me there, but he’d already made plans to go later. So I couldn’t keep pestering him?
It turned out Mr. Duncan only wanted to snap a picture and ask me a few questions, so I was back home less than twenty minutes after I left. Plenty of time to help Aunt Theresa snap the peas for dinner…and get her talking. This time I planned to try an indirect approach.
“I was thinking maybe we should tell Uncle Louie about, y’know, everything this evening,” I suggested, sitting down at the kitchen table with my bowl of rinsed peas. “I know on Saturday I said we shouldn’t, but now, with all these new people coming to Jewel—”
My aunt turned from the stove looking startled. “Tell—? I’m sure I can’t imagine anything we’d say to him about…anything. Especially considering that your uncle has never been known for his discretion. Why, even back in high school—” She broke off, shaking her head.
“I really think he should know.”
After his record-breaking sales day yesterday, it occurred to me that some of the newcomers might try to use my aunt and uncle—and friends—to curry influence. I’d seen enough of that sort of thing back in Nuath to know Echtrans weren’t above such tactics.
“You don’t know him as well as I do, Marsha.” Aunt Theresa turned away from me. Again. “If a situation arises where it becomes important, we can tell him then. For now, I would prefer not to.”
I huffed out a frustrated breath. “Obviously, since you won’t even talk about it yourself. How can you—?”
“That’s enough, Marsha. Are those peas ready yet?”
“Almost,” I grumped, even though I’d barely started them. Much as I wanted to make her talk to me, years of habit kept me from pushing when she used that tone. I let it drop. Again.
When Uncle Louie got home he was nearly as upbeat as the night before, crowing that he’d sold two more cars that day. I was half-tempted to defy my aunt and just blurt out the truth to him, but I didn’t. Even though I now doubted it would be possible—or safe—to keep him in the dark indefinitely.
Aunt Theresa was in the kitchen like usual when I came downstairs the next morning, but she seemed as determined as ever to act like everything was perfectly normal. At first, anyway.
“About time,” Uncle Louie exclaimed as I poured my orange juice. “They’ve finally printed something in the local paper about that new company. Sounds like the mayor’s taking all the credit for getting them here,” he added with a chuckle. “No big surprise, since he’s up for reelection this fall.”
He went on to read part of the article aloud. The description of the research NuAgra would be doing to increase crop production and decrease reliance on pesticides and fertilizers was almost verbatim what I’d been told by the Council Monday night. Taken straight from their press release, I assumed.
When Aunt Theresa glanced my way as he read, I raised my eyebrows and nodded significantly. The alarm I’d already sensed from her increased, but then she turned away to begin slicing a banana with mathematical precision.
I sighed.
* * *
“Did you see the article about NuAgra in this morning’s paper?” I asked Molly at the bus stop a little while later. Sean was apparently getting a ride to school with a buddy, as he did more often than not these days.
She shook her head. “We don’t get the local one. What did it say?”
“The exact same story the Council told me they were putting out for public consumption. Uncle Louie thinks it’s great but I doubt everyone in Jewel will feel the same. Especially since they’re not hiring.”
“Mum and dad were talking about that last night. Hope it won’t—” She broke off as the bus rounded the corner and the other two kids from our stop came jogging up.
We clearly weren’t the only ones excited—and a little apprehensive—about so many new people moving to Jewel. It was already the main topic of conversation when we boarded the bus and when my friends Bri and Deb got on a few stops later, they immediately joined the discussion.
“My dad says we’re getting eight new students at school tomorrow,” Bri announced as they slid into the seat across the aisle from Molly and me. “They’re supposed to be registering today.”
“Eight? Really?” Nara’s report had only named seven.
Bri misunderstood my surprise. “I know! Wacky, right? It was a huge deal to get three last year.”
All of whom were also Echtrans, though of course Bri didn’t know that.
“He says the middle school is getting two or three new kids, too,” she said. “How awesome would it be if we got another sports phenom like Rigel or Sean?”
She was obviously joking but that actually wasn’t unlikely at all, since Echtrans tended to be stronger, faster and smarter than the average Earth human.
“Yeah, that would be awesome,” Molly agreed with a grin when I hesitated. “Then it wouldn’t all be on Rigel and Sean to prop up their teams.”
“Not that I’m holding my breath,” Bri said. “I mean, how many more can there be out there like Sean and Rigel?”
Not only had Rigel completely revitalized our football program last fall, Sean had taken our formerly-lame basketball team to State last spring. They were both dramatically better than any other athletes at our little rural school, but were they above average for Martians? I suddenly realized I had no idea.
Rigel met me at my locker. “People were going nuts on my bus about the NuAgra thing this morning,” he murmured as we walked to Pre-Cal.
“Mine, too. It is pretty big news for a town and school this small. That’d be true even if they weren’t, y’know—” Aliens, I finished silently.
He slanted an amused glance down at me. “Tell me you don’t still think of us that way?”
“Duh. Of course I don’t. But if other people knew, what would they think?” Aunt Theresa, for example.
“Good point. We all just need to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
“All is right. I hope these new kids paid attention during that extra training the Council—”
I broke off as Matt Mullins, one of Rigel’s teammates, caught up with us.
“So, didja hear? All those new students are supposed to be starting classes tomorrow.”
We both nodded. “Do you know anything about them?” I was curious how different sections of the gossip mill were spinning things.
“Not really,” Matt said, “but I think I saw one of them in the office when I went past it just now. At least I hope so, because wowza! She was gorgeous. Her mom was pretty easy on the eyes, too.” He waggled his eyebrows.
It was announced during first period that the new students would all be registering today, so between classes that was almost the only thing people talked about. Even the teachers seemed excited when they told us, in both Chemistry and Lit, to expect new classmates the next day.
As the day went on, everyone who managed to catch a glimpse of one of the newcomers registering made a point of reporting back to their friends.
“O. M. G,” I overheard Amber saying to the other cheerleaders at lunch. “I am so glad it was my day to help in the office second period. Four of the new students are guys and every one of them is to die for! I don’t know if I’m going t
o be able to handle so much gorgeousness in school every day.” She fanned herself vigorously.
The others immediately started peppering her with questions, but I stopped listening when Bri, Deb and Molly joined Rigel and me at our table. All three were speculating excitedly about the newcomers, though I assumed Molly’s curiosity was for a different reason than Bri’s and Deb’s.
Or maybe not. “No kidding, Bri,” she said as they set down their trays. “I saw two of the new guys earlier—I think they might be twins?—and wow. Wish I knew what year they are and what classes they’ll have.”
It occurred to me that Molly hadn’t really been around any Echtran boys except Sean and Rigel since leaving Bailerealta a year ago. No wonder she was looking forward to meeting a few more.
Maybe Sean will connect with one of the new girls, too, Rigel sent, picking up on my thought.
I glanced over to where Sean was sitting with some of his basketball teammates from last year. Yeah, that would be really nice.
If nothing else, it would help me feel a little less guilty over what I’d inadvertently put him through over the past year.
5
Clarity
AFTER lunch, our Government teacher said we’d also be getting two new students in there. “So take this time to work with your partners to put the finishing touches on your projects, as they’re due Friday and I’d rather not leave our new arrivals with nothing to do tomorrow.”
As soon as we paired off, I apologized again to Molly for leaving her in the lurch on our project all of last week.
“Seriously, M, it’s fine,” she assured me. “What you were doing was like a million times more important than some report about the Constitution. Speaking of which, how is your aunt handling everything, now it’s been a few days?”
“I’m not sure,” I admitted. “It’s like she’s pretending that conversation with Kyna and your mom never happened—I mean, she won’t refer to it at all. I don’t get it. If it were me, I’d want to know everything.”
“Your Aunt Theresa is so not you, M,” Molly pointed out. “Maybe she just can’t wrap her mind around it yet.”
“Yeah. Dr. Stuart said she might need time to get used to the idea, but still…” I shook my head, tired of puzzling over it. “So, are you sure there’s not something I can still do on this project?”
There really wasn’t—she’d double-checked the footnotes and everything—so we mostly spent our time speculating about the new students. By now, I was as curious about them as everyone else in school.
In Econ, Trina and Amber seemed to be hatching a whispered plot with a couple of other cheerleaders to set themselves up as some kind of official welcoming committee. I had to laugh, remembering how she’d acted toward Rigel, and then Sean, when they’d arrived at Jewel High last year.
“What’s so funny, Marsha?” Trina sniped in response to my chuckle. “You think just because you convinced Rigel and the O’Garas you’re something special these new students will, too? News flash. Anyone coming from the East Coast is going to have way higher standards.”
A year ago that would have embarrassed me into silence. Not now. “Uh-huh. I’m sure if they’d been here last week, it would have made all the difference in the Homecoming Court vote.” I knew it still rankled badly that I’d beaten her out for Junior Princess.
She glared at me. “Just wait, Marsha. We’re going to be so charming, these new guys won’t even look at you.”
It would actually be great if she was right—but I was pretty sure she wasn’t.
* * *
“Okay, folks, we’ve got one heck of a story to cover,” Angela, our editor-in-chief, announced in Publications last period, practically rubbing her hands together with glee.
“This corporation moving its headquarters to Jewel is the biggest news this town has seen in years—maybe decades. We may just be an online school newspaper, but we can still do a better job reporting on it than the local rag. The office already gave me the names and class years of all the new students.”
She brandished a sheet of paper, then read from it. “Two seniors, Kira Morain and Alan Dempsey. Two juniors, Lucas and Liam Walsh, brothers. Two sophomores, Grady Quinlan and Erin Campbell, and two freshmen, Adina Morain and Jana Blair. Since there are eight of us and eight of them, we’ll interview one apiece.”
Becky waved a hand in the air. “Ooh, can I have one of the guys?” She and the three other girls on the staff giggled.
Angela frowned them down. “I’ll take Alan Dempsey, since we’re both seniors. Becky, you can have Kira Morain.”
Ignoring Becky’s pout, Angela continued, “Rigel, you and M take the Walsh brothers. Jeremy, Grady Quinlan is yours. And you three can decide between you who gets Erin, Jana and Adina.”
According to Nara’s report on the new students, their being so evenly balanced by both class year and gender was no coincidence, but part of the selection process—though Adina had been listed as an eighth grader instead of ninth. Probably a last-minute change.
“I’ll want a full profile on each one, including as much on their parents as you can get. Oh, and if anyone can score an interview with the CEO of NuAgra, you’ll be my hero. I’ve called half a dozen times today but can’t get through their voicemail system. Maybe it’s not working yet.”
Rigel glanced at me. One of us should probably do that, don’t you think? Then we can spin things however seems safest.
Good plan, I agreed. I’ll give the Council a heads-up.
Angela went on to suggest we all wrap up any stories already in progress so we could devote next week to the new students—who also needed to be warned before they started giving interviews.
I added that to my lengthening list of mental notes.
* * *
If I’d expected a break from Jewel’s big news in taekwondo class that afternoon, I was wrong.
“I’m expecting two or three new students on Saturday, maybe more,” Master Parker announced with a big smile as soon as we bowed in. “I personally talked with several of the new families, pointing out what a great way this would be to get plugged to their new community. It’ll also benefit you people to have new sparring partners. There are flyers on the front desk for you to take on your way out. Feel free to give them to your new classmates at school.”
During class I tried hard to focus, to put other concerns out of my mind, like Master Parker always told us to do. But I couldn’t help thinking one reason he’d had such an easy time persuading parents to sign their kids up was because they’d heard I studied taekwondo.
Which would be awkward even if these kids had already learned to compensate for being stronger and faster than the Duchas they were supposed to mimic. I was extra glad now that no children younger than twelve had been permitted to come to Jewel.
When I walked past Burrell’s Feed & Seed on my way home, I discovered one more reason to worry. Two employees were taking a smoke break outside the entrance—and talking about NuAgra.
“—put us out of business,” I heard one say.
The other man nodded. “Yeah, I saw. Gonna make half the stuff we sell here obsolete, sounds like. Bad enough they’re only taking on their own people. Now this.”
Wondering how pervasive attitudes like that were already becoming, I walked faster. I needed to message Kyna and request a meeting with all the newcomers as soon as possible. Maybe together we could deal with issues like these before they developed into real problems.
When I got home a few minutes later, I was surprised to find Aunt Theresa already in the kitchen—and radiating tension.
“You’re home early,” I said cautiously as I went to the fridge to pour myself a glass of milk. “Is, um, something wrong?”
Standing up from the stack of papers she’d been grading on the kitchen table, she regarded me with an apprehensive frown. “Not…wrong, precisely, but I’d, ah, like to ask you something. If you don’t mind.”
Finally! Even though it would delay my message
to Kyna, I smiled encouragingly. “Of course I don’t mind. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”
She sat back down at the table, so I put the milk away and sat across from her, taking a sip from my glass. And waiting.
For a long moment she fidgeted, shuffling her papers while conflicting emotions played across her face, before blurting out, “This new company, these new people. They’re not…they can’t really all be—?”
“Yes. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. They’re people like me. And the O’Garas.”
Her eyes widened slightly, then she nodded. “I was afraid that was the case after reading the article in today’s paper. I’d hoped— But I suppose it was foolish of me to think that if I ignored the, er, situation it would somehow go away, or at least not matter.”
“I’m, sorry, Aunt Theresa. I know it’s been a lot for you to take in. Dr. Stuart said I should give you time, wait till you were ready to talk about it.”
She huffed out a breath. “Yes. Well. Whether I’m ready or not, I’d best know exactly what Jewel is up against.”
Now I frowned. “Up against? What do you mean? It’s not an invasion.”
One gray eyebrow went up. “Isn’t it?”
“Of course not! They’re just coming here to…to live their lives, like everyone else.”
“But why Jewel?”
I bit my lip. “Um, because of me, mostly. There wasn’t time on Saturday for Kyna and Mrs. O’Gara to give you more than the absolute basics, but you remember them telling you I’m their Sovereign, right?”
“Yes, but I’m still not sure I understand what that means. They said your grandfather was killed on…on Mars…by some dictator who also killed your parents here on Earth? But you escaped?”
I nodded. “I’m not sure exactly how, since I was only two, but Shim—that’s Rigel’s grandfather, my Regent back on Mars—he thinks my parents knew Faxon’s people were after them. Apparently they hid me, then made it look like I was with them when they were killed in an arranged accident.”