by Brenda Hiatt
CHAPTER 27: Resolution matrix
After ice cream (yes, we really did get ice cream—Dr. Stuart claimed we needed it, plus she'd told my aunt we would and she didn't want to lie) we went back to the Stuarts' house to clean up.
There was no way I could go to Bri's house covered in dirt, straw and corn shuckings, and my only change of clothes was my Homecoming dress. So I called Bri and canceled, using my aunt as an excuse.
The Stuarts had three full baths and either an enormous water heater or some spiffy Martian technology with the same effect, so I was able to take a long, luxurious, guilt-free shower—something I hardly ever got to do at home. Dr. Stuart threw my jeans and shirt in the wash at the same time, so I wouldn't have to explain the state of those clothes to Aunt Theresa later.
By the time I finished drying my hair it was getting late, so I went ahead and put on the floaty, seafoam-green dress Bri had lent me. It fit beautifully, the halter top leaving my shoulders bare but without being at all risqué. Dr. Stuart helped me with my hair and makeup.
"Indulge me," she said when I protested that she'd already done enough. "One of my few regrets is that I've never had a daughter to dress up."
Since I couldn't think of any possible argument—not to mention how special it made me feel to have her fussing over me—I relaxed and enjoyed the attention.
Rigel seemed to appreciate the results, judging by his expression when we emerged from his parents' room. All he said aloud was "wow," but his eyes said much more.
I smiled but didn't say anything. Ever since he'd told me he loved me—at least, once we were out of crisis mode—I'd felt kind of shy and tongue-tied around him. I kept wondering if I'd imagined it, or if he'd maybe only said it because he thought we were about to die, but I couldn't think of any way to ask that wouldn't sound needy. And now he looked so gorgeous in his dark suit and white shirt that he almost didn't seem real—certainly not like someone who could possibly love me.
He held out his hand to me, though, and when I took it, I found it a little easier to believe. Together, we went downstairs.
Only to be met by Shim and Mr. Stuart, both looking very serious.
"M, Rigel, would you mind very much postponing your special dinner?" Rigel's dad asked. "There's barely time as it is, and Shim feels it's important that you both be brought up to speed on the situation as soon as possible. I can't help but agree."
I glanced at Rigel and he shrugged, so we both nodded. I hoped this wouldn't mean missing the dance, but I didn't want to sound shallow by saying so out loud.
Mr. Stuart must have read my expression, or maybe it was a mental communication from his wife, who had come down the stairs just behind us. "Not to worry," he said, "we'll make sure you get to the Homecoming dance. And Rigel, you can take M out for a nice dinner some other time. Soon," he added with another glance at Dr. Stuart. "I've already ordered pizza to be delivered."
"You both look very nice," Shim said, though it was obvious his mind was on other matters. "Now, suppose we get right to business? The dining room is probably a good place to talk."
Wordlessly, we followed him to the big table. Even though Rigel had a firm grip on my hand, I couldn't help feeling a little bit nervous. What other threat might be out there that we hadn't been told about?
Once we were seated, though, Shim's stern expression relaxed into a smile. "I want to commend you both for your actions this afternoon. Between you, you have averted a hideous threat to this planet and its people, as well as to innumerable Martians on both planets who oppose Faxon and his regime. On their behalf, I am exceedingly grateful. I would, however, like to hear how you managed it."
Again Rigel and I exchanged a glance, then he answered. "We, um, discovered recently that together we seem to be able to create an electrical charge. It's how we stopped Mr. Truitt's runaway car last night."
Shim's eyebrows rose. "I see. So today was not the first manifestation of this, er, power? I trust the Truitts have no suspicion of the truth?"
"Oh, no," I said quickly. "Rigel convinced them he'd just turned off the car—he was really fast, and everything was so confused, they didn't question it. Anyway, I've never gotten the least hint they know the truth about me. They definitely would have said something by now, if they did."
"And how did you know you could do this last night?" he asked Rigel.
After sliding a quick look my way, Rigel faced his grandfather and told him about the incident with Bryce Farmer. From his parents' shocked expressions, this was the first they'd heard about that, though they didn't interrupt him.
"It took me as much by surprise as it did M," he concluded. "It's also what made her start demanding explanations." He gave me a quick smile. "I sort of thought you might know how it's possible, Grandfather."
Shim looked at us for a long moment, then finally nodded. "It appears, as you may suspect already, that the two of you share a true graell bond—something most of our people would consider impossible. However, there is no other plausible explanation I can think of. Nor is it completely unexpected—to me, at any rate. Unfortunately, news of your bond will be unpopular in some quarters, but we can discuss the ramifications at some future date. First, I thought you would be interested to learn how things stand after this afternoon's events."
"Yes, sir, we would," I agreed. "Is everyone . . . all right?" I didn't really care about Morven, but I'd been worrying about those on our side.
"My people have recovered for the most part," he said, "though one or two may need a few days to return to complete health. Thank you for asking, Princess. Morven's people, those few we captured, appear to be mostly recovered as well. Morven himself did not fare so well, but he is alive and had finally regained consciousness at last report. He may make a full recovery in time, though it is too soon to know."
"And what happens after he recovers?" I asked, frowning. "I know Martians—not counting Faxon and his followers—don't believe in killing. So, since there must not be a death penalty, what will they do to Morven? And Smith? And Faxon, for that matter, if he's overthrown? I mean, what kind of criminal penalties do you have on Mars?"
"Memory modification," Mr. Stuart replied. His wife and Shim nodded.
"It hasn't been used more than a dozen times in the past hundred years," Shim explained, "But yes, we have the technology to erase memories. It is considered the ultimate form of rehabilitation."
I blinked. "Like, give somebody complete amnesia?"
"Usually not. Usually just enough to give someone a fresh start from the point they began to go wrong. But in extreme cases, such as Faxon's—or Morven's—we do have the power to do a tabula rasa—wipe the slate blank."
I nodded, satisfied. If anyone deserved that, Faxon did, since he was the reason I had no family.
Rigel spoke up then. "Sir, I'm curious about something else. How could Morven have had so many people supporting him, without us— you— knowing about it? And how did they all find us so quickly?"
"A fair question." Shim sighed. "I received a painful—but necessary—kick in my complacency today. My biggest regret is that my arrogance put others—and especially the two of you—at risk. When we identified Morven as the ringleader of the invasion movement here on Earth, we kept what I thought was a close watch upon him. Obviously not close enough. He clearly found ways to recruit adherents, and to communicate with them without our knowledge.
"As for today, we discovered what was essentially a GPS homing device on his person, which directed his followers to his precise location once activated. It is disturbing that there were so many of them within a few hours' travel of Jewel. It means their total numbers were clearly far greater than we had guessed."
"Were?" Rigel looked at his grandfather, then his father.
It was Mr. Stuart who answered. "We're hopeful that with Morven out of the picture, and especially once news of today's events spreads—which it will—the invasion movement will wither away, along with support for Faxon, both here and back on Mars."
; "But . . . we don't actually know yet, do we?" I asked. Surely it was too good to be true that the bad guys were all vanquished and that Rigel really loved me. I just wasn't that lucky.
"No, not yet," Shim conceded. "We can't again make the mistake of underestimating the lengths to which fanatics will go." He sent a wry glance Mr. Stuart's way.
The doorbell rang just then, making everyone jump—at least, I did.
"The pizza," Dr. Stuart murmured, breaking the tense silence.
She went to answer the door and came back a moment later with two large pizzas, which immediately lightened the atmosphere. While we ate, Shim told us that a few of those captured had been forthcoming with information, and he expected to be able to locate and destroy the remaining Ossian Spheres within the next week or two. Also, that it was fear of those devices that had convinced many of them to follow Morven in the first place.
"Once those are destroyed, even the fanatics aren't likely to see invasion as a viable option. We should be able to finally start planning a gradual, peaceful relocation of our people."
What Morven had said about the colony's resources running out within a century or so was apparently true, which made some solution essential. Shim and the Stuarts discussed some of the specifics they hoped for, and though I knew I should be paying attention—I was bound to regret it later if I didn't—it was impossible to follow all the references to people and events I knew nothing about.
Finally, long after the pizza was eaten and the table cleared, Shim turned to me and said, "I owe you an apology, Excellency."
"Huh? Why?" Oh, that sounded regal! But I didn't understand.
"Though I told Van yesterday that the Council would announce your existence via MARSTAR, we held off, hoping that it might prove unnecessary—that with Smith exposed, Morven would abandon his plans and that you could then continue to live a normal life. We also, upon further discussion, feared that there might be those in the network who were secretly loyal to Faxon, and who might therefore pose a separate risk. But had we announced the truth earlier, it might have lessened the risk you faced today. And for that, I sincerely apologize. Be assured that the word has gone out now, since after what happened today, there was little point in attempting to keep it secret. Better for everyone to know the real story than to piece together an erroneous one from whatever Morven's escaped followers might say."
"Oh." Morven's gang had arrived so quickly, I doubted having the word out sooner would have made much difference. But I was mainly concerned with just two words out of Shim's explanation. "Um, normal life? I can still have that, can't I?"
All of the adults exchanged glances before anyone spoke, making me uneasy in spite of Rigel's hand covering mine.
"You can try," Mr. Stuart finally said. "And we'll help all we can. But there's no question that some—perhaps many—Echtrans are going to want to see you for themselves, to verify that you're really alive . . . and to pay their respects."
"Growing up as you have, M, you can have no idea how world-changing this news will be to our people," Dr. Stuart said gently. "Many may come to regard Jewel, the place you've grown up, as a sort of shrine."
"What, like . . . like Graceland or something?" I squeaked, looking wildly around at all of them. Rigel, at least, appeared almost as startled as I felt. They had to be kidding.
Mr. Stuart chuckled. "A little like that, yes. But with only a few thousand expatriates worldwide, we probably don't have to worry about parking issues. Still, Jewel is likely to become a bit of a, um, tourist attraction for a while."
I was completely boggled by that idea and it didn't help when Shim added, "Only a few thousand at the moment, but if our plans progress as we hope, that number will grow steadily over the next few decades."
"But . . . what do I do?" I asked.
"Nothing, for now," Shim said. "We will all, and especially Van and Ariel here, do our best to keep things low key. If you can, conceal the truth from your aunt and uncle for as long as possible, preferably until you are old enough to go away to college. From what I've been told of them, I doubt they would appreciate having their lives disrupted."
I had to laugh at such an understatement. "So I can keep, you know, going to school and everything, right? I don't have to do anything, er, official right away?"
He shook his head. "Eventually, of course, you'll be expected to take on the responsibilities of your heritage. But for now, I hope you will be able to live the relatively . . . ahem . . . normal life of a teenager."
"And part of that is going to the Homecoming dance," Dr. Stuart announced. "We'd better hurry if you don't want to miss the whole thing."
Rigel and I were almost an hour late to the dance.
We thought we'd be able to slip into the black-and-gold festooned cafeteria quietly, but that didn't happen—mainly because it was almost time to present the Homecoming Court and a few of the organizers were starting to panic because Rigel wasn't there yet.
Not only the organizers.
"There you are!" Trina shrilled, rushing up to Rigel seconds after we entered. "Do you have any idea how mortified I'd have been to be crowned solo? Not to mention the dance afterwards." She didn't even glance at me, of course.
Other people did, though.
"Wow, M, you look great," said Pete Chesterton, who was a senior, our best running back . . . and Trina's date. "Lucky guy," he added to Rigel. Trina glowered at him.
"You can say that again," Rigel agreed, gazing down at me with the crooked smile that made my heart do that funny little flip-flop thing—even more than usual, after today's events. I'd been so afraid at one point that I'd never see that smile again. Especially right after he'd actually told me—
"M! You're here!" Bri brought me back to the present, almost tackling me with a fierce hug. "You sounded so strange on the phone when you said you couldn't come over before, I was afraid your aunt might not let you come at all. Oh, that dress looks fabulous on you! I knew it would."
I was grateful she didn't come right out and say it was hers, with Trina standing within earshot.
The DJ was playing a song I liked, and I was kind of hoping it might be my first-ever dance with Rigel, but before I could even hint at it, Trina grabbed him by the hand.
"Come on—let's let the committee know you're here. You need to be briefed on the program sequence."
He sent me a questioning look, but I shrugged and nodded—and couldn't quite suppress a snicker at Trina's self-importance. After facing almost certain death earlier today, being briefed on the "program sequence" just didn't seem like fate-of-the-world stuff. Still, he looked reluctant as he left me, which I didn't mind at all.
"So, did you hear?" Bri asked me the moment he was gone. "Like, a bomb or something exploded in a cornfield right next to the school today! They actually considered canceling the dance because of it, can you believe it?"
"Really?" I asked with what I thought was admirable cluelessness.
"Yeah." Matt, Bri's date, chimed in. "Derek and Paul went out later, after the cops left, to check it out, and they said there's like a crop circle or something out there."
"The cops came?" I hadn't known about that. "Did they find out what happened?"
Before Matt could answer, a voice came over the speakers—the Principal, announcing that it was time to crown the Homecoming Queen and King and their court. The students quieted down a little as Mr. Cowan presented Heather Williams and her king, Scott Anderson (our basketball star—this was Indiana, after all), then the rest of the court, including Trina and Rigel.
Heather made a brief little thank you speech, then the DJ queued up a slow dance to be led off by the Queen, King and court before the rest of us were allowed to join in. I watched Trina draping herself all over Rigel and tried not to mind. Then I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to find Jimmy Franklin standing there.
"Oh, hey, Jimmy," I said, glancing behind him for his date. No one was there.
"Hey, M. I, um, I was wondering," he stammered, "
since, you know, Rigel has to dance this one with Trina, if, um, you might, um, dance with me?"
Jimmy looked handsome and earnest and more than a little nervous as he waited for my reply. A couple of months ago, this would have transported me into complete ecstasy. Now, I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing.
"Uh, sure. I guess that would be okay," I said as other couples started to drift out onto the dance floor to join the Homecoming court.
He led me out to the floor. I had to keep my gaze away from Bri, who kept giving me very-raised-eyebrow looks that were guaranteed to make me laugh. Instead, as I gingerly put one hand on Jimmy's shoulder and the other on his arm, I looked over at Rigel and Trina, which sobered me right up.
Trina was still pressing herself shamelessly against my boyfriend, though it looked like he was doing his best to fend her off by keeping his elbows between their bodies. Then they turned so her back was to me and he saw me. His eyebrows went up almost as high as Bri's, but then he grinned. I grinned back.
We spent the rest of the song smiling and winking at each other without our partners being any the wiser. As soon as the music ended, I politely thanked Jimmy, Pete reclaimed Trina, and then Rigel and I were together again.
"I'm really sorry about that," he said, taking both of my hands in his and pulling me close, even though the next song was a fast one. "I wanted my first dance to be with you."
So had I, but now that I was in his arms, I couldn't feel anything but happy. "That's what we get for being late," I said. "It's not your fault you're the most popular guy in the sophomore class."
He chuckled. "Homecoming Court doesn't quite compare with real royalty, but I guess it's something. Anyway," he added, holding me closer, "I don't plan to leave your side for the rest of the evening."
"Sounds good to me," I murmured.
We danced in contented silence. The next song was a slow one again, which made us a little less conspicuous, since we were treating them all that way. It was like we couldn't bear to let go of each other—at least, that was true for me.
"Happy?" he asked during our third dance.
I nodded, then finally asked the question I'd been dying to ask all evening. "So, your folks, Shim, they're . . . okay with, you know, us?"
He raised one shoulder in a half-shrug. "They'll have to be." Then he looked down at me, his expression serious, intense. "We're bonded, M. I don't think anything can change that. At least, I hope not."
I hoped not, too. I couldn't even imagine life without Rigel now, and I didn't want to. "I love you." The words were out of my mouth before I had time to worry about them.
A slow smile curved his perfect lips. "I love you, too, M. More than life itself. And that's saying a lot, since life is pretty special now that you're a part of it."
And then he kissed me and I knew that no matter what the future might bring, we were going to face it together. Me, the most unlikely princess ever, and Rigel—my very own star and the most wonderful guy on Earth.
About the Author