by Andy Mangels
"If there were, the cops didn't get them," Bertram said. "The troops seemed pretty freaked out, on the whole. A few said they saw people turning to ash, but there was a lot of smoke and gas in the air, so who knows what they really saw. And there was some kind of explosion in the basement of the building. Apparently the RD. was on-scene because there had been gunshots reported. It looked like some sort of gang war was going on. “
Bartolli appeared at the door. He looked as slick as a shark in his dark suit, and even though he carried only a briefcase, Margolin knew that the man was armed for serious hunting.
"Grant, I need you to hold for a second while I check on something. “
"Okay," Bertram said.
Margolin put the cell phone on hold, then placed it on a white noise box to prevent any stray sounds from getting through. "An old buddy of mine from back in the day… he's a colonel in the army now… -just called from New York City. It seems he's captured Tess Harding, Michael Guerin, and Isabel Evans. “
Bartolli raised an eyebrow. "Think they split up? “
"Sounds like that could be the case." Margolin held up the three printouts that Harrison had sent him of the intercepted e-mails. "These are from Liz Parker, Maria DeLuca, and Kyle Valenti. “
"Maybe the aliens split off from the humans?" Bartolli offered.
"We don't know what Parker is, since she's exhibited unusual abilities as well." Margolin's mind flashed back to a very frightened woman they had interrogated in Roswell; after Max and Liz had rescued her from a mugger, she'd been reluctant to give details about her saviors. Bartolli had "persuaded" her to help them.
"So, where's Max Evans? “
"A very good question," Margolin said. "Is he with his brunette girlfriend, or was he with his old blond girlfriend? Bertram says no others were recovered, but it sounds like there might have been room for escape. “
"Three in the hand in New York, a few more about to be captured in Wyoming. I'd say we've got a pretty good grouping of them," Bartolli said, grinning.
Margolin nodded. He picked up the phone and toggled it on. "You there, Grant? “
"Yes, sir. You could get better elevator music to play on your 'hold' line than that Barry Manilow stuff, though. “
"I'll work on that. Meanwhile, we're on our way there right now, by plane. Give us an hour. And give me the location of the building you're in. “
Margolin scribbled the address down, and then spoke again. "Grant, you need to play dose attention to this. Under no circumstances are you, or any other persons, to have contact with these three. Got it? No one. “
"Got it. “
"I assume you have them in airtight rooms? “
"Of course. “
Margolin smiled. "Good. We'll have a little cocktail prepared for them when we get there. Thanks for the call, Grant. Excellent work. It won't go unnoticed if I have anything to say about it. “
Margolin rang off, and turned to Bartolli. "Let's go get ourselves some aliens. “
10 Cheyenne, Wyoming
Maria shifted slightly to get more comfortable, trying not to wake Michael. They were lying in the back of the Microbus on their sleeping bags. Liz had told them that she was going off with Isabel, not so subtly offering them some much-needed time alone.
For about two minutes, she and Michael had made out, and then Michael had fallen asleep. Maria was more frustrated than offended; she knew how much energy Michael had expended that day, even if she hadn't been conscious to see it. But she'd still wanted him to be with her.
Feeling him breathing next to her, looking at his peaceful face, she could almost get lost in the moment. Almost forget that they were dressed in one of their five changes of clothes, traveling with four of their friends in a van, on the run from government goons and skin-shedding aliens.
Almost, but not quite.
Four years ago, she never would have imagined her life would be what it was today. Not even in a creative writing assignment in Mrs. Wong's class. Four years ago, her best friends were Liz Parker and Alex Whitman, and she sometimes hung out with the granola- rock crowd.
Working at the Crashdown Cafe as a waitress was her job, but she'd always had bigger dreams. Music and the stage called to her, and she knew that one day kids would be singing along to her songs like they did to the music of Melissa Etheridge or E J. Harvey or Dido. She wasn't sure exactly how she was going to get out of Roswell, but she knew she would. She once shared that dream with Billy Darden, the boy she'd met at band camp at the age of thirteen, the first boy she had ever kissed.
And then, on that fateful day in September, 1999, Liz had been shot at the Crashdown, the victim of a random altercation. In the days and weeks that followed, Maria was inexorably drawn into a secret world that had existed around her for years without her knowledge. Her mother made cheap alien tchotchkes for her shop, never realizing that three of Maria's new friends actually were half alien.
Looking back at the last four years, Maria sometimes had a difficult time seeing the good that had come from her association with the aliens. Her grades had suffered, her mother's Jetta had certainly suffered, and her other friendships had all but evaporated. And then Alex had been killed, as part of Tess's alien plot.
The only positive result was her relationship with Michael, and even that was tumultuous at best. His moods were so mercurial that she was never sure if her comments or attention would set him off. Manic- depressive, thy name is Michael, she often thought. Not that she was the poster child for emotional stability, but she realized that their relationship mirrored that of her mother and father, when they had been together. But just because she was aware of the emotional roller coaster that life with Michael represented, that knowledge didn't seem to help her stay away from him. It was a kind of codependency, and she was caught in its loop.
Because she loved him. And he loved her.
But was that enough? She had finally gotten a chance to pursue her lifelong goal last year. Performing with Jim Valenti and his neo-country band, The Kit-Shickers, she had been spotted by music producers and was offered a recording contract in New York City. But she soon discovered that they wanted to "manufacture" her, to remold her into a pop princess rather than allow her to make the kind of music that was important to her.
Before leaving for the big city, Maria had talked with Liz. She still remembered what Liz had said: "You should find a way to compromise without losing what's important to you, because if you don't do this, you are always going to be miserable. “
Shortly afterward, she had turned down the music producers and returned to the alien drama that was Roswell. And a few months later, she had been forced to choose between a life on the run with Michael and her friends, or staying behind in the small town to face a certain, if dull, future.
But is my future any less uncertain now? What do I have to look forward to? I'm not doing any music now, my relationship with Michael isn't growing, and, on top of that, I got tasered today I Michael snored quietly beside her, and sleepily placed his hand on her arm.
The touch was electric, but not alien. Maria was keenly aware that of all the members of their group, she was the only one who not only wasn't alien but also hadn't been made partially alien by Max's healing powers.
She could walk away and never worry about being burdened with seeing the future, or shooting sparks from her fingertips. She was a completely normal human girl who just happened to be in love with an alien guy.
But she could walk away.
Couldn't she? Liz stood on the corner and looked down the street. At first, she didn't recognize the two men coming toward her a few blocks away, and then the light from a passing car illuminated them briefly. Max and Kyle! Backing up, Liz turned and headed down the block toward the pay phone on which Isabel was talking to Jesse. They hadn't been conversing for very long, but Max and Kyle had apparently finished making their food run faster than anticipated.
Isabel was facing away when Liz approached. Liz coughed slightl
y to get her attention, and heard Isabel say, "What makes you think the kids won't look like you? “
Liz reached out to touch Isabel's shoulder, and started to tell her that Max and Kyle were coming.
The instant her hand made contact with Isabel, Liz's vision abruptly snapped into focus, as she saw a flash of a window exploding… Then men in dark uniforms, their guns pointed directly at her… Next she saw a placid coastline through the rounded window of an airplane, the sun-dappled water far below her colored a startling lapis lazuli blue… And suddenly she was strapped down onto a table, with tubes and wires entering various parts of her body. She could see her reflection in the edges of the metallic plates and the hoods of the lights above her. But it wasn't herself she was seeing.
It was Isabel.
Liz realized that her head… Isabel's head… was wounded and bloody, and she heard a whining sound like a dentist's drill beside one of her ears. She saw a masked doctor looking down at her, his pitiless, slate- colored eyes clearly visible through his transparent goggles. She could see blood spraying robins-egg patterns across his smock, his mask, his goggles… Next came pain and utter darkness.
Roswell, New Mexico Jeff Parker finished putting the garnishes on the dinner plates, making sure that every element of the food, from preparation to presentation, was as perfect as he could manage. He prided himself that the Crashdown nearly always got newspaper reviews as one of the best diners in southeastern New Mexico. But this order deserved special attention: It was for Jim Valenti and Amy DeLuca.
The months since graduation had been difficult. After the commencement ceremony, the Parkers had been interrogated by black-suited men from the government, but they had no answers for them. Not only did they not know where Liz or the others had gone, they also had no idea why they had suddenly skipped town. Amy DeLuca had been similarly interviewed, as had the Evanses and Deputy Valenti.
In a private meeting, Phillip Evans had promised Jeff and Nancy that he was reasonably certain that the kids were all okay, and that the reason the government was looking for them was not related to any criminal activities on the kids' part. Phillip's explanation had calmed everyone somewhat, but after Max's and Liz's run-in with the law up in Utah over a year ago, Jeff had to admit, if only to himself, that he still had his doubts.
Jeff knew that something strange had been going on between Liz and her friends during their high school years, but it wasn't until a month after they'd disappeared that he and Nancy had discovered what it was. A FedEx delivery had yielded a box with several cookbooks that Jeff couldn't recall having ordered, but as he opened one of them, he'd discovered that it had been hollowed out. Nestled within its center was Liz's journal.
The journal had explained everything, especially how Liz's world had changed so completely after she'd been shot during the altercation at the Crashdown three years ago. After closing that evening in the diner, as he read through Liz's journal entries, Jeff marveled at the secrets his daughter had kept, and the adventures she and her friends had experienced. It all seemed surreal, almost like a science-fiction movie or a television show. And yet it was his daughter's life.
The final entry had been written on the day she'd sent the journal via FedEx.
I can't tell you much more than that. It wouldn't be safe… for you or for us. I can tell you that we're far away, and that we're all trying to avoid the law and do good in the world. Oh, and I guess I should tell you that Max and 1 did eventually tie the knot. Give my love to Mom. Let her read this journal too. Then, give it to Maria's mom. And after that, take it and burn it out in the desert by the ruins of the pod chamber where my husband was born.
So that's the end. Our life in Roswell. What a long, strange trip it's been. Will we ever go back? 1 don't know. Even I can't see everything in the future. All I know is that I'm still Liz Parker, and I'm happy.
It was the last communication the Parkers had received from their daughter in months. Jeff had followed her instructions by sharing the journal with Amy DeLuca, and had also let the Evanses and Valenti read it. Even though he'd been shocked at first to learn how the kids had kept secrets from him, he understood now the necessity of those secrets. Nancy evidently felt likewise; she had told him that, in the same situation, the two of them probably would have made the same choices.
Valenti had warned all of them that they were being watched and monitored, and Jeff had even spotted some of the people he suspected were spying on him. But he never let on that he knew who they were, and neither did Nancy.
When they were in public, or home, or on the phone, none of the parents ever discussed what was really going on with their kids. They had all agreed to pretend not to know anything, expressing their concern and updating one another on not hearing from their children, for the benefit of any federal agents who might be listening in.
But Jeff knew that in their private meetings their tone with one another was quite different. Jim, Amy, Phillip, Diane, and he and Nancy all shared a secret bond that kept them in orbit around one another. Jim Valenti had shared more of his reflections on the past three years with them once the parents all knew the truth, and they now saw him as their children's guardian angel.
Jim had been the one who delivered to each of them their first news since Liz's journal arrived. Once a month, Jeff and Amy DeLuca received brief e-mails, though the Evanses had not always been so fortunate. Valenti always got them the e-mails in a way that made sure nobody but them knew what was happening: He delivered them as hard copies, which immediately went to the paper-shredder after they were read.
It had now been over a month since Jeff had last had any contact with Liz, so he hoped that the real reason Jim and Amy were eating here tonight might be to bring him some word from the kids.
Balancing the tray of food before him, Jeff moved out of the kitchen area, through the swinging door, and out into the dining area of the Crashdown.
"Here you go, Jim. The Tommy Lee Jones Basket. Extra peppers, as requested," he said as he set the deputy's plate on the table in front of him.
"Mmmmmm, smells great," Jim said, grinning.
Jeff placed Amy's plate in front of her as well. "Here's your Moon Rock Hash and Orbit Rings, Amy. And, if I may say so, you look great tonight. “
She blushed, waving her hand at him as if to push the compliment away. "Flattery won't get you a bigger tip, Jeff. “
Valenti picked up a folded menu from the table and handed it to Jeff. "I noticed there was something spilled on this menu, Jeff. You might want to get it replaced. “
"Thanks, Jim. I'll do that." He took the menu, his heart racing. "Anything else? “
"Naw, I think that'll do it," Valenti said.
Jeff turned and headed back to the kitchen. He opened the menu to find a folded piece of paper inside. He quickly slipped it into his pocket.
Ill read it tonight with Nancy, he thought. Out on Liz's balcony.
Cheyenne, Wyoming Max and Kyle approached at a run. Liz lay on the sidewalk, semiconscious. Alarmed, Max gently shook Liz and called her name. After a few moments, she groaned and began to awaken. Seeing that she didn't appear injured, Max felt relief flood through him like a physical force.
"Liz? What happened? “
Liz looked up at him, then seemed to notice the presence of Kyle and Isabel. Max could see that she was still disoriented.
"She put her hand on my shoulder and there was this big burst of energy," Isabel said. "And then she passed out. “
"I saw it," Liz said. "I saw Isabel die. “
"What?" The word came out of Isabel almost as a shriek.
"I got a future flash," Liz said, turning toward Isabel and addressing her directly. "The MiBs had caught you. They had doctors operating on you. “
"When? Where?" Max felt fear course through his system. If he lived to be a thousand, he would never forget the dissection to which he had nearly been subjected in the White Room at the hands of Agent Pierce. He would do anything to protect his sister from a fat
e like that.
"I don't know," Liz said. "There wasn't anything I could reference to figure out the date or the time. All I saw was one of those big scary operating rooms like they have in the movies. “
"So you're saying I'm gonna be killed by a mad scientist?" Isabel asked.
"Hey, Isabel, it's going to be okay," Kyle said, trying to reach out and hold her. "Calm down. “
"Calm down? You aren't the one who's going to be the star of Alien Autopsy, Kyle." Isabel shook off his touch and put her hands up to her face, breathing through her steepled fingers. Max had rarely seen Isabel so upset.
Then it occurred to him that he shouldn't be seeing her at all… at least, not away from their temporary sanctuary of the abandoned church. And not next to a pay phone.
"What were you doing out here, anyhow?" Max asked her, fearing he already knew the answer.
"I called Jesse, okay?" Isabel admitted, her anguished voice rising almost to a shout. "I just wanted to talk to my husband. Is that so wrong? “
Max knew that now wasn't the time to lecture her about how she might have endangered Jesse. Not with what Liz had just revealed about Isabel's future. Isabel's possible future, he thought, correcting himself. The whole point of our being out here on the road is to carve out our own destinies. We left Roswell to prove that we can make whatever future we want for ourselves. And yet all they seemed to be doing was running and hiding.
Max knew he had to get Isabel calmed down so that they could face the problem of Liz's premonition rationally.
He looked past his sister for a moment and noticed that the pay phone's receiver was dangling from the end of its cord.
"Is Jesse still on the line?" Max asked.
Isabel picked up the phone and put it to her ear. "Hello? Jesse?" She turned back toward Max. "No. He's gone. When Liz's vision made her cry out, I guess I dropped the phone right in the middle of things. “
Max approached her and kept his voice low and… he hoped… soothing. "Isabel, call him back and let him know you're all right. “