Now he had her attention. What is it? she asked privately.
I need you to see something, he told her. It’s important.
She nodded vigorously and turned to David, pointing at their game. “I’ve memorized the board, so I’ll know if you’ve moved any pieces while I’m gone.”
David flashed a mischievous grin. “I’m going to take you down, firecracker. And when I do, it’ll be fully legit.”
She pushed to standing and hurried to Aelyx’s side, two spots of pink rising high on her cheeks. Aelyx led her into his bedroom and closed the door behind her, then pointed to Cara’s hologram. The sphere was orbiting Cara’s head now, continuing to spew undecipherable messages and flashing brighter than the ball he’d seen in Times Square last month.
Syrine knelt at the foot of Aelyx’s bed and squinted at the object. “What is that?”
Aelyx caught her eye and used Silent Speech to explain. Cara said they’ve been falling from the sky—three that she’s seen so far. It’s sending her messages in a variety of unknown languages, over and over like it’s feeding from a central—
“Uh, hello,” Cara interrupted. “Out loud, please.”
Syrine ignored her, holding Aelyx’s gaze as her jaw dropped. Does The Way know?
Aelyx nodded. “But they’ve been hiding the orbs from the population, claiming they’re meteorites.”
“Then it’s probably not one of ours,” Syrine said aloud. “If it were, the Voyagers would claim it.”
Cara growled in frustration and caught the orb inside her blanket, where it wrestled for freedom. “Okay, what is this thing? It’s starting to piss me off.”
“It’s a probe.” Aelyx pulled in a deep breath and let it out in a whoosh. “I’m almost certain of it. And like Syrine said, I don’t think it’s one of ours.”
“A probe?” Cara asked. “As in I’ma disrobe you, then I’ma probe you?”
Aelyx didn’t understand the reference, but he imagined she was thinking of a medical tool. “No. A device used to gather data. Our Voyagers have used them in the past to explore unsafe environments, but those were elemental collection devices. Nothing as elaborate as this.” Nothing that spoke. He’d give anything to understand what it was trying to say.
“So who sent it?” Cara asked.
That was the million-credit question.
“Are you sure there’s no way it’s yours?” Cara grew flushed with anger. She finally gave up fighting the blanketed orb and simply sat on it. “Maybe the Voyagers sent them out, and now they’re coming home. That would explain why they’re falling all over the place.”
Aelyx shared a knowing look with Syrine. “Maybe,” he said, though he had little doubt the object was foreign.
Cara must have heard a noise from outside the Aegis, because she slid off the orb and darted to her window. “The guard’s here,” she said. “That didn’t take long.”
Blinded by its blanket, the sphere knocked against the top bunk a few times before drifting about the room like a clumsy ghost.
Cara chased it down and tucked it football-style beneath one arm. “They can have it.” Narrowing her eyes, she spoke to the orb. “You’re a pain in my ass.”
Syrine suggested, “Take it outside to the guard without letting the clones see it.”
“I agree,” Aelyx said. “If the clones catch you with something like this in your room, it’ll fuel more rumors.”
“That’s the last thing I need.” Cara secured the blanket tightly around her bundle and said good-bye, then disconnected, leaving Aelyx and Syrine staring at each other in concern.
What worried him most was that The Way had hidden the probes’ existence. That implied a threat, or at least the fear of one. Aelyx had studied the Voyager logs to learn of other beings, but he’d never heard of a society advanced enough to create an interactive probe. Clearly these aliens existed—the glittering orb was proof.
So were the senders friends or foes?
Cara made sure no part of the probe was visible when she stepped into the hall, but even though the passing clones couldn’t see the object, its bleeping and blabbering drew a few curious gazes. To muffle the noise, she loudly hummed the first tune that popped into her head—“Jingle Bells,” which drew twice the curious gazes and a few open sneers from Dahla and her friends.
After jingling all the way through the lobby, Cara rushed outside and scanned the capital guards, hoping to spot the one in charge. She didn’t identify him, but she did find Satan locking eyes with the headmaster.
Satan was a nice guy, in his own sadistic way. If she had to confess to smuggling an alien-made spyball into the Aegis, he was the person to talk to.
“Psst,” she called from the front stoop. When he glanced in her direction, she skipped down the steps and waved him over to the only private spot available, the corner formed between the steps and the side of the building.
While Satan strode to meet her, Cara summoned her best innocent face: wide eyes, head tipped downward, pouty lower lip. She’d have to deliver an Oscar-worthy “stupid human” performance in order to pull this off. Fortunately for her, most L’eihrs already thought she was dumber than a bag of hammers.
“I’m glad you’re here,” she whispered to him. “I need your help.”
“What is matter, Sweeeeeney?”
“I was walking in the woods a little while ago, and I heard a crash. When I went to check it out, I found this.” She pulled back enough blanket to reveal a flash of brass and twinkling lights. At once, Satan’s chrome eyes widened. “I thought it was pretty,” she continued, “so I brought it back to my room, but now it’s flying around and crashing into walls. I’m afraid it’s going to break something.” She made an extra-pitiful face. “Can you take it for me?”
“Others in Aegis, they see this?” He licked his lips nervously and tucked the blanket back in place.
“No. I’m the only one.”
He took the probe from her and gripped it with about ten tons of force. “Stay for moment,” he instructed. “I must find Jaxen.”
Oh, no. She’d managed to dodge Jaxen since their trip to the colony. A gab session with L’eihr’s resident brainwasher was the last thing she needed today. “I told you everything I know. Can I go back to the nursery?”
“Stay,” Satan repeated, then jogged away without another word.
Damn.
Jaxen wouldn’t be fooled by her innocent act. He’d know she brought the probe back to her room to study it. She should’ve just taken the device out the back door and released it into the wild.
It didn’t take long for him to find her.
Jaxen pinned Cara with an amused look. “You brought it here because you thought it was pretty? If you’re so taken with pretty things, I can direct you to the wildflower conservatory.”
There was no point in trying to deny what she’d done, but her instincts warned her to plead partial ignorance. If it weren’t for Aelyx, she’d never have guessed the orb was a data-gathering machine. “Look,” she whispered, “you and I both know that’s no meteorite. So why don’t you tell me what it is.”
“Sure.” Jaxen’s patronizing tone didn’t fill her with confidence. “But not here. Let’s talk in my chambers.”
Alone with Jaxen inside his bedroom? No thanks. Cara matched his lie with one of her own. “Actually, I’m late for my shift at the preschool. They need me to help run the water diffusion experiment.”
“Oh?” he said with an arched brow. “I thought the headmaster relieved you of your duties today.”
Double damn.
“Well, technically I don’t have to be there, but I wanted—”
“Excellent. Right this way, then.”
He turned and strode inside the Aegis, and with an inward groan, Cara followed him to his room on the second floor. She kept scanning the halls for Elle, hoping to form an exit strategy, but with classes in session, the dormitory was empty. Her last hope was to find Aisly inside the room. But when Jaxen pressed on
e palm to his keypad, the door hissed open and revealed a vacant bedroom much like hers, only with the cots laid side-by-side instead of bunk-style.
He swept a hand toward the left cot, indicating for her to sit. The door closed with an extra-loud hiss, as if sealing her fate as well as the exit. She settled at the end of the bed, as far from the pillow as possible. It seemed too intimate near the spot where Jaxen rested his head at night.
To her relief, Jaxen remained standing. He gave her as much space as the small chamber would allow, folding his arms and leaning against the side wall when he began. “You’re a smart girl, Cah-ra.”
That was debatable based on her decision-making skills today. But whatever. She’d take it.
“I’m confident you can piece together the purpose of that sphere for yourself,” Jaxen said. For the briefest of moments, she thought she saw a flicker of fear behind his gaze. “Did you understand anything it said to you?”
She wished she had, especially after seeing his reaction. “No. Not even close.”
“Good.” His shoulders sank an inch as he relaxed. “That’s probably for the best.”
Cara wondered if this was going to turn into one of those Scooby-Doo endings, where the bad guy loses his mask and confesses everything. Only in this version, the “meddling kids” would wind up with their memories erased. She decided to go for it. She might as well learn as much as she could and hope to retain it later by blocking her thoughts.
“Why?” she asked. “Because it would’ve transmitted my responses back to whoever sent it? And who is that, by the way?”
Jaxen ignored both her questions and posed one of his own. “Why are the governments of Earth concealing the full extent of the water crises from its citizens?”
Cara puckered her brow because he already knew the answer. “If people found out our water would be unfit for drinking, they’d start hoarding it. Prices would skyrocket. Looting and riots would break out, maybe even wars for the rights to clean rivers and natural springs. Humans don’t have the best track record when it comes to rational behavior.”
“Precisely.” He moved from the wall and took a seat on the opposite cot. “Sometimes for the greater good, a governing body must keep its citizens ignorant of danger.”
If Jaxen was trying to compare Earth’s impending apocalypse to the probes raining down on L’eihr, he’d missed two major points. “L’eihrs are nothing like humans and your world isn’t dying. Big difference.”
She expected him to argue, but he studied her in silence, taking the time to unclasp and resecure his long hair at the base of his neck. Then, in an abrupt move, he darted from his cot to occupy the seat beside her. The mattress shook with his added weight, tipping her nearer to him until their thighs touched. She wanted to scoot away, but she was already at the end of his bed.
“I’ve always liked you, Cah-ra,” he said. “You’ve intrigued me since the day we met.”
“Um.” She leaned away as much as she could. “I didn’t mean to.”
He took her hand and pressed a thumb over the vein in her wrist, then swirled his fingertips lightly over her sensitive skin. Cara realized what he was doing. This was the L’eihr version of a kiss, in which they measured each other’s pulse in an effort to make it rush beneath their lover’s touch.
“But your inquisitive nature,” he murmured, “is a danger to you in this case.”
As respectfully as she could, Cara pushed away his hand, making sure he knew her spiked pulse had nothing to do with attraction. “This makes me uncomfortable.” She scooted a few inches to the right until half her bottom hung off the mattress. “I have a l’ihan.”
Clear disappointment dragged down the corners of his mouth. “As do I.”
This was news to Cara. “Who is she?”
“In some ways, my perfect match.” He sighed, then added, “And yet…”
Before he could finish, the bedroom door hissed open and his sister strode inside, stopping short when she noticed them together on the edge of his cot. Aisly didn’t speak, but her expectant glance said, What is she doing here?
“Cah-ra discovered the emissary probe that crashed nearby,” Jaxen explained. He left Cara’s side and joined Aisly, where they engaged in a few beats of silent conversation.
Aisly didn’t seem alarmed, probably because she assumed her brother would pluck the memories from Cara’s head. The girl pulled a mirror from her bureau drawer, along with a small bottle filled with clear liquid.
If Jaxen wouldn’t reveal any details about the probe, maybe his sister would. “What can you tell me about the aliens who sent it?” Cara asked.
Aisly didn’t respond. She flipped open the lid to her bottle, then tipped back her head and squeezed two drops into each of her eyes.
Cara had never seen clones do that. “Is something wrong with your eyes?” she asked.
“No.” Aisly blinked a few times and blotted her cheeks with a handkerchief. Maybe it was Cara’s imagination, but Aisly’s irises seemed a darker shade of silver now. “Simple allergies.” Aisly glanced at her brother. “You’ll soon forget.”
In other words, destroy this memory, too. Cara didn’t know for certain, but she doubted the clones suffered from allergies, not after all those years of meticulous breeding. So what drug was inside that bottle?
Jaxen sighed again and motioned for Cara to stand. He seemed wearier of the mental cleansing than Aisley was. Must be rough screwing with so many heads.
This was it—time to summon her focal image. While she crossed the room and stood before Jaxen, Cara imagined herself in the gym at Midtown High, surrounded by red dodgeballs. She fell so deeply into her fantasy that she could smell the pungent reek of sweat and hear the squeak of sneakers against the waxed wood floor. She scooped an imaginary ball into her hands and repeatedly bounced it, listening to the echo reverberate off the gym walls. When Jaxen took her face between his palms and peered into her eyes, Cara pictured him standing defenseless on the half-court line. A wicked grin curved her mouth. She was going to nail him, right in the beanbags.
The pretend ball felt tight beneath her fingers, overinflated for maximum impact. She drew back, tensed all the right muscles, then threw the ball with a mighty heave, making sure to follow through and hit her target. The ball flew from her grasp and connected with Jaxen’s dangly bits with a satisfying thwack, and he doubled over before sinking to his knees.
Take that, you mind-warping asshole.
Cara had focused so intently on blocking her thoughts that she didn’t notice when Jaxen pulled away. A loud throat-clearing snapped her to attention, and she found herself staring at the wall.
Uh-oh.
She’d missed his entire message. What had he tried pushing inside her head—to forget the probe and Aisly’s eyedrops or to forget their entire encounter?
“I’m a little confused,” Cara said, rubbing her temples and glancing back and forth between the siblings. “I came in here to ask you something, but now I can’t remember what it was.”
Aisly smiled sweetly. “You must be tired from waking up so early to take your brother to the spaceport.”
“Do you need me to escort you back to your room?” Jaxen asked.
“No, I’ll be fine.” Cara shook her head and laughed dryly. “Guess I need a nap. Sorry to bother you.”
“Any time,” Jaxen told her.
She held up two fingers in a L’eihr good-bye and returned to her room, but not for a nap. She spent the rest of the afternoon talking to Aelyx about what had happened while intermittently huffing his shirt. After what she’d endured, she needed the comfort.
That night as Cara and Elle lay beneath their covers, Cara whispered, “Hey, can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Do L’eihrs get allergies?”
“Allergies?” Elle asked.
“Yeah, you know, reactions to pollen and mold. Itchy, watery eyes, cough, runny nose. Things like that.”
“No,” Elle said, co
nfirming Cara’s suspicions. “Anyone with a hypersensitive immune system would have been barred from reproducing thousands of years ago.”
“You’re a medic,” Cara said. “What reason would someone have to use eyedrops?”
“They wouldn’t.” Elle sounded confused, which made two of them.
“That’s what I thought.”
The hiss of their door opening interrupted their conversation, and Cara pushed onto her elbows, heart thumping as she scanned the darkness for the intruder.
Ah-woo, came a low whine.
Cara pressed a relieved hand to her chest. It was only Vero. “Our keypad’s messed up again,” she told Elle, then pointed a warning finger at Vero. “If you pee on my pillow, I’ll choke you with your own tail.”
He crept to the foot of her cot, then extended one paw and lowered his head to the floor.
“Ooh,” Elle whispered in awe from the top bunk. “He’s showing deference. This means he sees you as his pack leader.”
Yeah, right. Or he was trying to trick her into leaving her pillow undefended.
“It might have something to do with Aelyx’s scent,” Elle said. “He followed Aelyx everywhere—idolized him completely. As Aelyx’s mate, Vero would consider you an alpha by association.”
It was an interesting theory. Cara patted her mattress. “Come on, boy. It’s okay.”
After a while, Vero found the courage to climb into bed with her, scooting nearer by slow inches. Just when Cara started to think it was a trick, he curled up against Aelyx’s T-shirt and rested his head on the mattress, purring sadly.
“You poor thing,” Cara whispered. Slowly, so as not to startle him, she lowered her head to the pillow. A few minutes later when Vero’s breathing began to slow, Cara extended one finger and petted his arm. His shorn fur was baby-soft, his delicate skin warmer than she’d anticipated. He surprised her by curling his little digits around her finger and tucking her knuckles beneath his chin.
Aww. Vero was a cuddler.
Even though he smelled kind of like wet dog, she enjoyed the contact, so she scooted close enough to feel his warm breath against her cheek. They snuggled that way for the rest of the night, united by their love for a boy in another galaxy.
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