I turned away, and looked around at the scene. Dozens of men and women—all dressed in black—were scouring the warehouse. Some were examining the lifeless Kema’dor that were scattered around. Others were breaking through the few doors that led into other rooms, making an awful ruckus as they shot through the locks. A few were rummaging around in the vans. Nash was standing near the center of it all, supervising.
“What’s the CIA doing here?” I asked.
“I… invited them,” Ronan said. “I knew I would be unable to rescue you alone, and I thought they would be have some interest in aiding me.
“Normally, Kema’dor put up a much deadlier fight. But with element of surprise, higher numbers, and the use of Solamure Tech, I thought we would stand a good chance. I think Nash only lost two of his men.”
Two of his…?! I twisted around, looking for the casualties. But even as I searched, my eyes blurred until I couldn’t see anything. People shouldn’t be dying for me.
“Let’s get you out of here,” Ronan said, and began guiding me to the exit.
Nash stepped in front of us. “Where are you going?”
“Outside,” Ronan said. “Alex needs some air. And we need to talk.”
“You don’t forget our deal.”
“Of course not.”
“Good. Because I will see to it that you don’t.”
Ronan turned from him and, holding my hand, led me out.
The warehouse was situated somewhere remote. Other than the parking lot and adjacent road, there were no signs of people anywhere. Just hills and bushes. The sun was just beginning to dip toward the horizon, casting long shadows.
Ronan ushered me away from the building and toward the backwoods. Two large men emerged from one of the many large vans that were sitting in the parking lot and began following us. Ronan gave them a disparaging look.
“We’re not leaving. Just getting some privacy.”
“Stay in sight,” one barked, and they stopped trailing us.
Ronan gave a curt nod. We walked only a few feet in to the green shrubbery and then he settled onto some long, soft grass, pulling me down after him. One glance confirmed that the men were watching us, but thankfully, out of hearing range.
“I’m so sorry about all this--,” he began, but I cut him off.
“Stop apologizing to me,” I said. “You saved my life. Again.”
I thought he might go off about how I wouldn’t even need saving if not for him, but he just sighed deeply, and looked down at the grass.
He was still for so long. I reached out and touched his knee. He put his hand over mine. Finally he looked at me.
“They won’t give us long. When they’re finished in the warehouse, they’ll be taking me with them. And you’ll be going home.”
“What? Why are you going with them?”
“I made a deal with Nash. If he helped rescue you, then I would go with him. The other part of the deal was that you get to go home. And hopefully, somehow forget all of this.”
“Ronan, you can’t go with them! They were willing to kill me just to get a microchip. Think what they’ll do to you!”
“Not to worry. They know I’m human—biologically. They have nothing to learn from killing me. And to make sure they won’t be coming after you, I’m going to give them a watcher—uninstalled, of course. They get what they want, and you’ll be able to go back to your life. Everyone wins.”
“Ronan, what about you? In my experience, the CIA isn’t very philanthropic.”
“Don’t worry about me. I can get away from them if I need to, but right now I have a bargain to honor.”
“But—“
“Truly, Alex. I’ll be fine. Now, if the Solamure’s information was correct, the only Solamure tech tracking device the Kema’dor had was in the warehouse. During the chaos, I destroyed it. You should be safe from them now.”
I instinctively raised my hand and felt the bald spot above my ear. The skin was so smooth.
“Ronan—they said—the Kema’dor said that they have a Solamure. They kidnapped one and put it to sleep or something. They were going to put the tracker inside it to spy on the Solamure’s research. And also… Also, they told me that the Solamure could cure my dad. Ronan—is that true?”
There was a pause, followed by a reluctant affirmation.
“Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you let me ask them for help?” A sob crept into my voice.
“Alex, I don’t expect you to agree with their decision, but the Solamure don’t meddle in the natural order of things. It disrupts the organic progression of life.”
I stood up abruptly, looking down on him. “I don’t care what passes for alien ethics. To be able to help someone who needs it, and refuse to, is wrong.”
Ronan gazed upward at me, then said softly, “I did converse with the Solamure specifically about your father. They refused. I’m sorry. I ‘m so, so sorry.”
Tears pricked my eyes, and I couldn’t help it—I began crying again. I sat back down again and let him pull me into a side-hug. We remained silent while I got control of my emotions.
“What about that Solamure?” I asked. “Do you think the CIA will find it in the warehouse somewhere?”
“No,” he said. “When we shut off the power to the warehouse, the sleep-induced state he was in was lifted. He made off quickly—before we entered. I caught a brief glimpse of him disappearing into the brush. I suspect he’s gone to check on his equipment and his subjects.”
“His subjects?”
“The people he was watching. I’m sure he will be interested if the Kema’dor found them using the tracking device.”
“You mean the other people like me? With trackers? How many are there?”
“Several dozen. The Solamure wanted to get a diverse sample of subjects, so they’re scattered around the planet.”
“And you think the Kema’dor found them too?” I was surprised by the intensity of the sudden bond I felt toward these strangers.
“It’s difficult to say. Gamafor—the Solamure who escaped—will know how extensive their range was.”
“And he’ll rescue them,” I meant it as a question, but it sounded more like an order.
Ronan pulled at some grass as he answered. “I don’t know. The Solamure don’t like to get involved.”
“Don’t get involved? But it’s their fault these people are in danger!”
Ronan only shrugged helplessly. “I did what I could to save you. But the other subjects were being observed by the Solamure. They don’t have the same…compassion. There is nothing I could say or do to change their mind.”
I was about to begin a rant about how wrong the situation was, but when I saw the misery in Ronan’s eyes, I let it drop. For now.
“So what happened after you left the cabin?” I asked.
“I should never have left you alone. I’m s—“ he cut himself off.
Taking a breath, he continued. “A short while after leaving, I received the message from the Solamure. I turned around immediately, hoping they’d pick up my signal and leave you alone. I’d planned to attack them. But even though they knew where I was, they persisted in hunting you. I can’t describe my relief when you picked up the NeuralCom and I saw you were safe.”
He rubbed his hands through his dark hair, a slight expression of frustration on his face. “My plan changed from attacking to baiting them. Even though I knew they wouldn’t be able to get to you inside the bunker, I wanted to drive them away from you, so you could escape. I set up a trap, hoping to lure them into it, so that I could get back to you. But they proved more clever than I thought—spreading their numbers around so I couldn’t catch them all.”
“What did you do then?” I asked.
“By the time I realized that they’d tricked me, I knew they had you. I sped back to my—er, office—to use the watcher to locate you. But the Kema’dor anticipated me and were already there. So I went to the CIA, praying that you’d retrieved the Tarke, and wo
uld use it to call me. I presented my rescue strategy to Nash, we struck a deal, and then you called. Luckily this location wasn’t too far, or….” He reached out and touched my exposed head.
“But your plan worked,” I said.
Then the guilt and shame I felt about summoning Ronan to his death came back to me—and wasn’t lessened one bit just because he’d been hoping for it. In fact, it was magnified by the fact that Ronan had wanted me to use the Tarke to save my life, while I used it, believing it would end his.
“Thank goodness,” he murmured. There was a pause, and then he leaned in closer to me. I could tell, intuitively, that he wanted to kiss me. (How could he still smell so good after everything?)
But I couldn’t let him.
I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I kissed him—knowing that just an hour ago I’d betrayed him.
He was good, and I was horrible. I turned away.
“Alex,” he whispered. “I never meant to cause you pain.” He stroked his thumb down my cheek and said, “I hope—in the sincerest way possible—that you will find a way to happiness after all this—after everything I’ve done to you.”
Just then the warehouse doors opened and men—dozens of them—began hauling large crates out. They loaded them into the CIA vans. The men that had been standing guard yelled at us to join them in the parking lot.
Ronan stood, took my hand, and pulled me up. Together we walked back to the bustling parking lot. I still had questions I’d hoped to ask, but as soon as he saw us, Nash strutted over and ordered Ronan into one of the security cars. Ronan squeezed my hand, then disappeared behind the darkly tinted glass.
I was ordered gruffly to get into another of the black security cars. From behind the darkened glass I watched as the men finished loading the last of their cargo and began pulling away. Ronan’s car, driven by a tall wiry man, also pulled away, and I watched in anguish at it disappeared.
Chapter 11
“Shh, honey. I’m sure she’s fine. They’ll sort it out and she’ll be back before you know it.”
“It’s been nearly three days! Even that private investigator doesn’t have any leads yet!”
“You only hired him twelve hours ago. Look, if we haven’t heard from her by tonight, we’ll storm down to the police station again and this time refuse to leave until we see her again. Okay?”
“All right. But when I see that man again, he’d better hope he remembers his combat training.”
There were still several men and women milling about the warehouse. One was a photographer who appeared to be taking thousands of pictures. Every inch of every wall was captured by his camera.
At long last, one of the men opened the car door and settled into the driver’s seat.
“Hello Alex,” he said conversationally in his gravelly voice.
“Nash,” I replied stiffly.
He started the car and told me to buckle up. The engine was so quiet I could barely hear it as we glided across the parking lot and onto the road.
After several minutes of silence, Nash spoke.
“You’re welcome.”
“For what?”
“For rescuing you, of course. From being vivisected.”
“Well, it would mean a lot more if you hadn’t tried to do the same thing a couple of days ago,” I said coldly.
He had the grace to tip his head in acknowledgement.
“It wasn’t personal. Just following orders.”
“Well then don’t take it personally when I tell you to go to—“
“Now, now, Alex. We’re on the same side now.”
“Are we?”
“Of course. Your overly-protective boyfriend settled that. Fortunately for you, we are much more interested in him than yourself. And since he has kept his side of the deal, even when I suspect he could have easily backed out, I will honor my promise and take you home. I am sure your parents will be relieved to see you.”
“No thanks to you.” I turned my head away from him and watched the scenery fly by.
“But,” he continued with a warning in his voice, “I’m going to expect a certain amount of cooperation from you.”
“Like what?”
“For starters, I’m going to need you to keep all of this confidential of course. You may tell your parents what you wish, though I’d suggest keeping things vague, for their sake. But no one else.”
“Wasn’t planning on it,” I said, and it was true. Well, I would have liked to talk to Natalie, but Nash was right—it was probably best to leave everyone out of it.
“Secondly, and I mean this most seriously, I expect you to go on with your life as if this never happened. We will be keeping tabs on you. Any attempt to contact Ronan, or investigate into any matter of this, will null the deal. We will take you back into custody, and you will forfeit your freedom. Is that understood?”
“Yes,” I answered, aware that this was no time to argue.
“And finally, you’re going to need to set aside some time for questioning, and I’m going to need you to be as direct and as specific as you can. If I suspect you’re holding anything back, the questioning will go on as long as needed—days, weeks. But if you comply, we can probably finish in a matter of hours.”
“But I thought you were taking me home.”
“I am. We’ll schedule the appointment for tomorrow—after you’ve had a chance to settle.” He sniffed. “And shower.”
“My parents won’t like it.”
“No, they won’t. But we’ll conduct the interview at your residence. That should help alleviate some of their concerns. If things go smoothly, it shouldn’t take but the afternoon.”
“All right,” I said, as if I was really being given a choice.
We continued the rest of the trip in silence. The sun set and Nash turned on the headlights. Eventually I began to recognize some of the landmarks around us, and I was surprised how much closer to home we were than I’d thought.
When Nash pulled into my neighborhood, and then my driveway, I felt a rush of nostalgia. I’d only been gone three days, but so much had happened. I bolted out of the car and up to my house. The porch light was on, but the door was locked.
“Mom, Dad,” I called, pounding on the door.
Mom opened the door, then threw her arms around me.
“Oh, Alex! We’ve been so worried!”
I hugged her back, and told her how glad I was to see her. Over her shoulder I saw my dad resting on the couch. He looked so pale.
“Alex?” he said, lifting his head.
“Dad!” I released my mom and went over to sit next to him. “How are you?”
“I’ve been better.” He smiled weakly. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I replied. I wasn’t about to burden him with tales of alien adventures.
“What happened to your hair?”
“Oh, um… it’s a new trend I decided to try.”
“Looks great, hon,” he said weakly.
“Evening,” Nash’s voice called from the door.
Instantly Mom barred doorway, standing directly between Nash and me.
“Where on earth has my daughter been?” she asked.
I couldn’t see Nash’s face, but his voice didn’t sound the least bit abashed as he said, “I’m afraid that’s classified, ma’am. But, as promised, I have returned her.”
“Three days later! Without any contact! I don’t know who you think you are—“
“These things sometimes take unexpected turns, but I assure you, Alex is fine.”
“I’d like to speak to you privately,” my mom said in a steely voice.
“As you wish.”
They stepped out onto the porch and closed the door behind them.
Dad gave a slight smile. “I almost feel sorry for that fellow,” he said. “Your mother was always skilled at a good tongue lashing.”
I smiled too. “Don’t I know it.”
We sat in silence for a few moments. Occasionally we could he
ar Mom’s voice raise, and I heard her swear once. After a few minutes, a car’s headlights shined through the front curtains, then disappeared. Mom came back inside, her face flushed.
“Alex, sweetie, are you really okay?”
“I’m fine, Mom.” And I really did feel fine. Being back home made all that had happened somehow seem less real.
“But look at your hair! Why did they shave it?”
“Just….um. Can we talk about this later, please? I really just want a shower. And to sleep in my own bed.”
“Of course, honey. Is there anything else you want? Are you hungry?”
I was starving. Near-death experiences did that to me, apparently.
“Yes, food would be great. Anything sounds good.”
“You go on up and shower. I’ll heat something up for you.”
My stomach growled, and I wondered how quickly it would take to get clean.
After everything I’d been through, the shower felt like such an indulgence. I lingered longer than I’d planned and let the steam fill the room and fog the mirror. I poured some shampoo into my hand and brought it to my head. When my hand touched bare scalp, I came unglued a little, and whimpered.
Pull yourself together. At least you have a head to touch—you almost didn’t. Hair grows back. I sniffed, and then finished washing the strands I did have.
After wrapping myself in a towel, I crossed the hall to my room. Everything about it was intimately familiar, of course, but I felt slightly detached from it all. Like I wasn’t the same person who’d lived here before.
I put on a pair of pink pajama bottoms and a white t-shirt and went down to the kitchen, where Mom was just pulling a plate out of the microwave. It was piled high with Alfredo. I sat down in my usual chair at the table.
“Smells good, Mom. Thanks,” I said.
“Take some bread, too,” she said, setting breadsticks on the plate.
I began eating as she poured some water into a glass and set it next to me.
“Your father is so happy you’re home, but it was a long day for him, so he went to bed. He said to tell you goodnight.”
Understanding the Stars Page 8