Roswell The Next Chapter: Season 7 Episodes 701 to 713

by NickMax

Continuation of Roswell The Next Chapter Season 6. The story is fairly long so it was uploaded in two parts. Part 1 includes Episodes 701 to 713.

701: The Next Generation Page 701-23 of 334

Chapter 1: The Next Generation

by

NickMax

Edited by Candy Cane, faillow, JennaBehr and sdcheesehead

Original Air Date: October 8, 2006

I t was a bright sunny day in early October. Zeke D'tharthé in jeans and a dark red t-shirt followed a path littered by the delicate blooms of teddy-bear cholla cacti, their yellow flowers surrounded by spiny thorns provided a splash of color in the otherwise drab countryside. The wind picked up and a gust blew a light dusting of fine sand across the broad, open expanse of desert. The muscular teenager, appearing around sixteen, turned his back to the wind and continued his inspection of the desert floor. Zeke recently returned to Roswell, a small southwestern town located not far from this great expanse of sand, stone, and Sargasso cactus where the young man stood staring at the Alamogordo Mountains rising majestically in the West. Zeke's short blonde curly hair and piercing blue eyes were similar to many of his classmates at West Roswell High School. But all similarities ended with his youthful appearance.

For while Zeke felt like a native, having lived almost all his life in Roswell, and having rapidly grown to adulthood here, he now felt like a stranger. He looked around and recognized everything as common and familiar, and simultaneously alien and unbelievable. He recalled walking along this same path only months before, except then the path had been covered with a glowing red dome of energy. That shield protected him, everyone he loved, and the Antarian Compound from the savage onslaught of the United States military. He turned again and looked up into the crystal blue sky and could almost see the Air Force fighters releasing their missiles and a B-52 dropping hundreds of 2,000-lb bombs in an attempt to wipe him off the face of the Earth along with the Embassy, the alien Education Center, and every member of his species.

He knew the image was true, he could feel it, could remember the fury of their futile attack – their bombs striking and falling harmlessly off the Compound's protective sense field. What was most amazing, however, was that no one in Roswell, the small, friendly town he knew so well, and sacrificed so much to return to, knew anything of that attack. They had no idea who, or what, he was. For Zeke, actually Prince Ezekiel Evans D'tharthé of Antar, the first planet of the Five Planets (Antar, Artur, Cano, Zyst, and Onkur) orbiting around their sun, Taur, in the Whirlwind system Galaxy, was a visitor to both this space and this time. Antarians possessed a unique talent that separated him, and a few close friends, from the earthlings that surrounded him in the town, the stores, restaurants, and the school he frequented. Antarians could exist in multiple subsets of time.

Zeke's father, Maximillian Evans D'tharthé, now sitting on his throne in the floating city of Atlata on Antar, attempted to spare his loved ones from the persecution he knew would follow them after his departure. His earthling friends and loved ones could not return with him: they could not survive the debilitating effects of Taur. To protect them Max had taken the extraordinary step of shifting time. Before his departure, before entering the wormhole portal that would carry him across the vast reaches of space, Max had used the special capabilities of his intergalactic ship to effectively reset the clocks on Earth back seven years, and allowed Earth to relive that time. Zeke was still amazed, and stunned by what he found when he returned from Antar. Earth in this alternative timeline was unaltered, and at the same time entirely different.

Zeke and his friends had grown up here, in that original timeline, and his mind was full of memories of his youth, some joyous and some gut wrenching with fright. But in the new timeline his father created, the hybrid leader (Zeke thought of him as Max II) apparently did not father a son. In this new timeline there was no equivalent Zeke, no son of Max II. This was fortuitous because contact between two Zeke's from parallel timelines would be fatal to both.

But how, he mused, could he keep these conflicting memories straight? He recalled the arrival of his father's archenemy, Khivar, on Earth. The adoration heaped on the alien king who bore gifts, and deceived an unsuspecting and gullible populace. A citizenry that was suddenly horrified when the seemingly benevolent king unleashed his awesome powers in an attempt to annihilate his father, his mother Tess, his Aunt Isabel, and Uncle Michael – the fabled Royal Four.

Zeke knew in the timeline he remembered, Khivar had been defeated. Khivar's henchman, Nicholas, had battled his father to the end. The slimy twerp, trapped in the unchanging body of a 13-year old misfit, had first thrown Tess out the window of their motel suite on the 37th floor, fatally injured his father, and then mercilessly tortured and killed his father's wife, Max's true and only love – a woman Zeke now referred affectionately to as Mother Liz. That night the young Zeke discovered powers he did not know he possessed: for he brought his father back from the edge of death, and helped his father revive an apparently dead Liz. The Four survived and battled Khivar into submission with a resounding victory punctuated with a fiery, sky engulfing fireball. But, the fight wiped out much of his beloved hometown. Now, the clock had been reset. Everything he remembered he knew happened, but no earthling in this timeline could recall what to them never occurred.

And Max II, his friends, and the Royal Four in this new time, had all suddenly and seemingly simultaneously disappeared. They and their friends departed years ago on supposedly separate, seemingly innocent trips after graduating from West Roswell High, never to return to their friends and family. Did they somehow know of the pitfalls that would lead to their discovery and persecution? Did they devise an elaborate ruse as a means to fool the government and Khivar?

"Where are they?" he muttered to himself.

Deep down, he sensed that they had outsmarted Khivar, escaped, and returned to their own Antar. But, they might have been captured, or killed by a far more serious enemy, the evil Empress Topol. Zeke knew he must find out what happened to the Four, because only when he was sure they were gone would it be safe for his mother, who also journeyed with him back from Antar, to return to Roswell. And only if Max II and the alternative timeline royals had truly left, could the rest of his Four safely visit him on Earth.

And what, Zeke mused, happened to the evil King Khivar and Empress Topol in this timeline? Were Khivar and Topol alive, were their spies searching, even now, for his father, or, himself and his friends?

"I loved my life on Antar," he whispered. I had everything I ever wanted. I was flush with the thrill of victory, of defeating the Empress. I had my family and my friends. I was the Crown Prince and first in the line of succession. Then he reconsidered. No, he slowly shook his head - not everything. He was missing the most important thing in his life, the woman who had made him whole. He smiled as he recalled the young woman he risked everything for, traveled back through the wormhole portal to be reunited with. Zeke could, even now, see Hera's beautiful green eyes looking up lovingly into his as the two were recently reunited. His smile broadened as he pictured the shapely curves of her young body that matured so tantalizingly during his sojourn to the Whirlwind galaxy.

Suddenly, two arms encircled him from behind. But, Zeke was not alarmed, not energized into action to defend himself from the government, alien hunters, or agents of Khivar or Topol. He knew every inch of the soft sweet skin of those arms. He slowly turned and looked down into the vibrant green eyes of the petite, beautiful teenager standing before him.

For months on Antar, and during the agonizing journey home through the mind-numbing labyrinth of the wormhole, he could think of none other. He stared into her face and could see her brilliantly white teeth, the adorable dimples in her cheeks as she smiled, and breathed in the fragrance of fresh lemons from her perfume. He raised his right hand and gently moved a lock of her dark, highlighted brunette hair from her eyes. He bent and brushed his lips across hers.

"Hello, beautiful." He smiled as he slid his strong hands down her back, stopping at her narrow waist, and pulled her tight. "Where have you been?"

"Just here and there," she replied with a perky mischievous smile. "Remember, I stayed while my big, strong Prince," she joked in a fake girly voice, "returned with King Max to battle the evil empire."

Before he could reply to her teasing, she wrapped both arms around his neck and kissed him deeply, sighing with pleasure.

Suddenly looking serious, she continued, "It was your duty to return and fight. I am proud of you and your accomplishments."

She pushed gently back so she could look Zeke squarely in the eyes. "But for you, it was only a matter of months, for me it was like seven years." Shaking her head, the tears beginning to well up in her eyes, "I almost went crazy."

She turned away, not wanting Zeke to see the desperation in her face. "At first I didn't know what had happened." Shaking her head, and her long dark, highlighted locks, "You were there in my arms one moment, and gone, the next."

She took several steps away before Zeke followed, and pulled her tight. "It was not like we broke up," she noted. She shook her head with such sadness it nearly broke Zeke's heart. He could feel it in her trembling limbs.

"No, it was as if you never existed. Never watched me cheerleading at school, never held me tight in the scary movies, and never showed me the glories of the Antarian Embassy or the secrets of the Education Center." A tear escaped and rolled down her tanned and flawless skin as she spoke. Zeke started to explain, but she stopped him with a gentle finger placed to his lips. "Never kissed me and never promised to return."

Zeke smiled as he held her tight, relishing the feel of her in his arms again. "But, I honored my promise, and I did return," he said, smiling. "I cannot change the past, restore the timeline, well," he shook his head and closed his eyes in exasperation, "actually with our starship, I could, but I won't," he continued. "I want only to focus on the future. To spend my life with you, loving you, and making all your dreams come true."

"Well, my sweet talking boyfriend, my wish is that you get us back to Roswell before my shift begins at the Crashdown," she laughed. "I was such a dutiful and responsible waitress before you returned," she teased. "Now I'm late half the time and Mr. Parker threatened to fire me if I miss another shift."

Zeke, smiling as he looked deeply into her happy, shining eyes: "I doubt that," he teased her. "You are the best waitress Jim and Nancy Parker have, except for Xiomara."

Hera looked up in mock outrage, "Well if you feel that way, I'll let her get you your next 'Alien Blast.' "

Zeke put an arm around her tiny waist, and slid his other hand across her short, burgundy, spaghetti-string top caressing the soft skin of her back before he pulled her to him.

"Let's get back," he said as they walked back happily, arm in arm to his new white Ford Explorer SUV hybrid.

Zeke stepped up on the sideboard and stared down to the lake in the distance. He waved, and yelled to his cousins Alex and Alan, and Rachael, Hera's best friend, to return to the Explorer. The two identical twins, tall, strongly built with brilliant blonde hair and vibrant, unnaturally blue eyes did not look up from their own inspection of the former Antarian Compound. They, like Rachael, were engrossed in the desert floor.

Alex dressed only in walking shorts and sandals, his shirt tied around his waist exposing his long lean arms and deeply muscled and tanned chest, spoke jokingly to his brother,

"Can you believe it? It seems like only yesterday that this site teemed with crowds of tourists flocking to the Embassy, to the Education Center where they were amazed in the Mind Theater, or marveled at the display of our flying saucer."

He turned to Rachael, "I know you can't recall it, but the Embassy was beautiful: a perfect blend of Taurian technology and Southwest charm."

Alan smiled as he recalled. "It was three-stories tall and located a quarter mile from the Education Center. These wild lamps hung everywhere and it gave it a classy look at night. The Embassy was constructed of a super strong plastic, designed by engineers on Artur."

Alex continued. "It looked like stone with a red-tile roof, but made from a special 'alien' material," he laughed. "They put it up seemingly overnight."

"A high, stainless steel fence surrounded the Embassy property and guests were greeted by Royal Protectors. Security was high tech: secure, but not obtrusive like what we see today," Alan chimed in.

"And now," Alan continued, "it's only a memory." Alan wearing Nike cross trainers, jeans and a dark-blue button up the front shirt left untucked, nodded. "It's a memory that only we, Zeke, Hera, our provider Blanca, and our Protectors can recall."

"But, it's for the best," Alex observed. "Our chance of keeping Zeke safe is far better if no one knows who he is or who we are."

"Hera's told me everything," Rachael noted happily. "But hearing you speak of those other times, of the great buildings, and your starship… it makes me long to see them for myself. Hearing, no matter how descriptive, is not the same as being there. I guess I'll never comprehend the wonders of your former life and my almost life in that other timeline," Rachael continued softly still trying to fully wrap her mind around the concept of alternate timelines.

Alex looked mischievously at his brother. "Well, that's not totally true, we could…"

"No, we've never done that! Or at least, never to an earthling," Alan exclaimed as he watched the excitement in his sometimes reckless brother grow. "You don't know how it might affect her!"

"Do what?" Rachael inquired. She stared back and forth between the two Twins. She could see something was brewing and picked up on Alex's excitement.

Alex looked at Rachael in her dark Capri's and emerald-green knit top and considered. Suddenly, he made up his mind and walked to her side. He stared down at her pale, almost white skin, nearly colorless ice blue eyes and short, curly orange-red hair. Before Alan could intervene, Alex placed one hand on each side of her beautiful face and concentrated.

Rachael's mind seemed to explode with a cascade of rapidly changing images. First, she could see a tall range of mountains and a steep path leading down to a long narrow Sea. She noticed she was standing next to an apparition that looked like Alex and he held her hand as they stared up at a blood-red moon hanging over their heads.

Next they swung upwards and she could feel her feet touching the surface of a beautiful city that seemed to float in the sky. A long thin mall, outlined in gold, bisected it. There was a palace at one end, a great circular meeting center in the middle, and a royal basilica at the other.

She felt the apparition groan, and followed his gaze. She could see a young man in his 20s; he was tall and handsome with long flowing dark brown hair. Somehow, maybe by Alex's response, she knew this was Michael, Alex's father. He was standing next to a young woman with sensual red lips, long flowing strawberry-blonde hair, in a miniskirt; Maria, Alex's mother. She cradled a new baby in her arms: beside them stood two Knights.

The image darkened and then they were on Earth, standing in the center of the Antarian Compound. From her vantage in front of the circular, hotel-like Education Center, she could see in the distance the red-roofed Embassy glowing eerily from lights surrounding the structure. She tried to take in everything. Next she was walking with Alex towards a large floodlit metallic disk that rotated on a tall thin pedestal; she knew instantly it was the Twin's flying saucer. It was protected under a great nearly transparent shield. Rachael, smiling ear to ear, grabbed his hand and began to run to the ship when all the images began to waiver before fading to black.

Alex was jerked from his mental journey when he felt Zeke's telepathic call resonate in his mind. He sadly closed his eyes, and his glimpse of his father and mother faded when his sightseeing tour of Antar and the Compound were abruptly halted. He turned towards the Alamogordo Mountains and could see his cousin calling for them to join him and Hera. Rachael staggered and almost fell before he caught her.

"You're the Knights of Antar," she exclaimed as her amazed gaze swung back and forth between the Twins. "It is your duty to keep him safe!"

Alan nodded solemnly, and then his face broke out in a grin as he turned to a still shaken Alex. "I'll race you to the car, brother." He laughed as he laid down the challenge, "Let us see who is better prepared to defend our Prince and future King."

Alex was regaining his equilibrium, smiled, and nodded, "on the count of three." Both boys bent down in a sprinters stance next to Rachael, and preparing to burst forward at her signal.

"One, two…," but before Rachel could finish, Alex broke forward and dashed towards the SUV. Alan, again caught in surprise, laughed as he raced to catch up. His natural talents, and running shoes, allowed him to race across the sand and better negotiate around the tumbleweeds, ground cacti, and rocks. He quickly caught and passed his brother, reaching the SUV several seconds faster.

"It's about time," Alan quirked as he saw his brother finally approaching the car with Rachael trotting along behind. Alex did not slow, but continued forward and slid into the back seat of the Explorer.

"I win, as always," Alex smirked at him.

Alan began to object, that he, not Alex had won the race as Zeke, Hera, and Rachael broke out in laughter.

Zeke called out, "I've got to get Hera back to the Crashdown before 1800 for her shift." Alan checked his digital watch and could see it was 1643 on October 8th. "You're cutting it a little tight."

"I've an idea," Alex offers excitedly from the back seat. "You can take Hera there directly, you know… disapperate and rematerialize into the restaurant." Hera turned quickly, a broad embarrassed smile crossing her flushed face as she recalled the sexual thrill associated with apperating with the one you loved. "I," Alex continued, "can drive Rachael back to Roswell in your car."

"And get us all killed?" Alan taunted.

Zeke smiled at the good natured kidding. "I've let you practice when we come out here to explore," Zeke exclaimed. "I agree with Alan," Zeke laughed.

Rachael considered, "Roswell is not ready for your unique piloting skills, at least, not yet."

Hera, always the peacekeeper, interceded, "I think Alex does a great job, he just needs," she paused as she searched for the right word, "more practice."

Zeke started the engine, and smiled at Hera. She sat close to him on the large bench seat and rested her head on his shoulder. He bent and gave her a quick kiss before pulling the car forward, "I think we have plenty of time. Let's do it the conventional way."

The car was momentarily silent as Zeke directed the vehicle across the ruts in the sand and back towards the access road. A new song came on the radio, and they all listened as Zeke, himself a new driver, awkwardly maneuvered the large SUV across the sand.

Wherever you are, no matter how far
Girl I'm gonna find my way to you
Through rivers of rain, over mountains of pain,
Do whatever on earth I've gotta do
I'll follow the dream; I'll follow my heart:
Girl, I've gotta be wherever you are

Alan sat up excitedly, "listen to these lyrics," he laughed. "Rivers of rain, mountains of pain," he repeated. "It's like our adventure with Ultra and Meta in the Sei Mountains," Alan gushed, and then paused, realizing he had inadvertently brought up a sensitive subject, "on Antar," he finished weakly.

Rachael turned to Alex, and knew that the snow-capped peaks she had been shown were in fact the same Sei Mountains.

Hera turned to the backseat and looked sharply at Alan and his twin, and then back to Zeke. "You haven't mentioned Ultra, or anything about what happened on Antar, just," she paused, "that you battled Topol and defeated her in a spectacular showdown."

Alan looked apologetically at Zeke, knowing he shouldn't have brought up Zeke's other girlfriend.

Zeke, as if his thoughts of Ultra slowed down time, the sounds faded and he was lost in his memories. He immediately remembered his infatuation with the beautiful and vivacious Princess of Cano who visited Earth before being collected by her mother and unceremoniously whisked back home.

He recalled the first time they met, when her ship floated down and landed at the Embassy. The way she held herself, tall and erect indicated she was someone important. A small golden crown shone out from her short dark hair. Her amber eyes glowed from behind a mask of vibrant purple eye shadow with a smoldering intensity. She was dressed in a ceremonial costume from Cano. A thin gauze of purple fabric extended from her shoulder to a dark purple bra barely containing her bosom. The nearly invisible fabric extended down over her bared stomach.

A necklace of black stone was placed around her long delicate neck. Her exposed arms were adorned with gold bracelets on each hand, and a bejeweled gold ring was on her right, first finger. A thin chain of gold extended down from the center of her bra, to a small disc with the image of a large bird with outstretched claws placed above her belly button. Three chains extended out from the disk and attached to a short purple bikini brief that extended down between her legs.

A long, 6-inch wide sash of dark purple, embroidered with Canoian symbols, started at the top of the brief and extended down between her legs to near her feet. A diaphanous cape of purple silk flowed from her shoulders to near her ankles as she walked. Open toe, high heel golden sandals adorned her feet; thin gold straps extended from the sandals and crisscrossed each leg high up onto her thighs. Her eyes searched the crowd as if looking for someone and then her gaze stopped as she spotted Zeke.

She gave me the slightest of bows, smiled and nodded before walking regally into the Center, he recalled. "I was a goner from the moment we met," Zeke barely whispered.

He recalled their reunion at the camp in the Talus Vortex on Antar, the thrill of her touch: the almost electric shock that permeated his body as they kissed. He knew that without his love for Hera, his promise to return, Zeke would have been more than content to stay and love the exotic Princess once described as the most-sexy woman on Earth.

He thought about the lyrics that played from the radio: Wherever you are, no matter how far, girl I'm gonna find my way to you. He knew, like the singer, that he had to return, to be wherever Hera was. But, why, he wondered, here with the one he loved beside him, here with the woman of his dreams, did he suddenly long for the Princess? He could almost feel her presence, see her smiling down on him, calling him with her eyes to come to her and reunite their love.

I know that's silly; she's billions of light-years away… and I love Hera, he thought. But the way we parted, not getting the chance to say goodbye, it just feels like that chapter of my life was not properly closed.

Then he recalled holding and kissing Ultra before the attack of Topol's troops in the mountains, his near-fatal injury and calling out for Hera, not Ultra, at the time of his greatest need, and most importantly his realization that she, not Princess Ultra, was the one.

The front tire of the Explorer dropped into a deep rut shaking the car and jerking Zeke back to the present. He opened his glazed eyes in shock and looked around unsure where he was. But, as he heard the lyrics on the radio ringing out he quickly recalled.

So many miles to where we said goodbye
To the street of shattered dreams
I'm prayin' hard you didn't start a life,
With someone who's not me

He pulled the car out of the rut, and forward onto the access road. He turned to Hera, smiled, and extended his arm to pull her close to him, and then sang the words of the song to her: "I'll do whatever on Earth I've gotta do. I'll follow the dream; I'll follow my heart: girl, I've gotta be wherever you are."

Hera had noticed his mind drift away at the mention of Ultra, and clearly was not satisfied with his evasive answer. But, nonetheless she was moved by his sentiment. She snuggled close and took Zeke's hand in hers and squeezed it affectionately, and then turned and looked out the window at the mountain pass and smiled to herself.

She knew she would find out what really happened, but not today. Deep down she felt she had to be the 'only one.' Her mother had preached for as long as she could remember that your man must always place you first. Hera knew Zeke had had a fling with Ultra…but that he returned to her. She knew that her competition was impossibly far away and that temptation was now gone forever.

"He's mine, and his thoughts and affections revolve around me," she whispered.

As the car crested the ridge, and Zeke began to accelerate it towards the highway, she put his hand on the steering wheel and called out. "Careful, don't exceed the speed limit along here," she cautioned. "They've got the strip from Route 285 to the Barrel Highway connected to the national security network," she shook her head in despair. Zeke looked displeased. "They can monitor your speed, determine who's in your car and your legal status in seconds," Hera interjected.

Zeke's solemn mood, already made somber by visiting the now-vacant site that once housed his extended family and the glorious Antarian Compound, and then the unsettling recollections of Ultra, was further dampened by the oppressive reality of this new, more Orwellian Roswell.

"I liked our Roswell better, before the terrorist attacks began and the nation went all '1984,' " he shook his head in disgust. "Whatever happened to the fourth amendment? Why did you let your personal freedoms be so readily sacrificed?"

Rachael picked up on the sentiment. "What made racial profiling and warrant-less wiretapping okay? Why can Big Brother set up road blocks, stop and search us anywhere, anytime, for anything?" she inquired.

Hera sighed, "Terrorists."

Zeke, becoming irritated, "That is the universal excuse for all governmental excesses these days."

"Well," Alan interjected, "they did attack and blow up the World Trade Center in New York. They killed thousands."

"And," Alex continued, "In this timeline, they destroyed the Palo Verde nuclear power plant in Arizona and brought down the Gateway Arch in Saint Louis."

"They set fire to a host of refineries in Texas and Oklahoma, and destroyed the gas pipeline to the Northeast," Rachael reluctantly acknowledged.

"Nerve-gassed the subways in New York, DC, and San Francisco," Alan breathlessly interjected.

"And were a day away from detonating a 10-megaton dirty bomb in downtown LA before DHS stopped them," Hera concluded.

"I'm not saying there weren't provocations, or that protective actions were not needed," Zeke commented. He pointed to the spot on his neck where a tiny biometrics identification chip was implanted. "But was this really necessary?" He shook his head, his mood deteriorating. "The Department of Homeland Security can track anyone, anywhere."

"If Blanca had not arranged for counterfeit chips…," Alan stated.

"And Zeke hadn't inserted them, we'd been discovered and thrown in jail the day we got back," Alex continued.

Zeke directed the big fuel-cell powered SUV up another hill and turned sharply following the twisting path of the highway and then down towards town. Before Zeke could continue his discussion on their loss of freedoms, he saw at the bottom of the intersection a roadblock, a Roswell police cruiser and two DHS vans.

"Our government striving to keep us safe," he sarcastically observed.

"Great," Hera exclaimed, "Now I'll be late for sure."

Zeke slowed the Explorer and pulled it in behind a dusty, dark green Jeep. A DHS agent, a grizzled veteran, his dark skin turned to a leathery brown from years in the dry Southwest sun pointed a radio-frequency identification scanner at the fair haired young man in the Jeep, studied the readout, and waved him forward. A native-American Roswell deputy sheriff, his cap perspiration-stained with a ring of salt crystals visible at the hairline, held the reins of a German Sheppard bomb-sniffing dog. The man in the Jeep, actually a Royal Protector named Gael, turned, nodded and pulled away.

Zeke pulled the Explorer forward and another agent, a light-skinned, sunburned man of about 35 turned to Zeke. The sun reflected off his mirrored sunglasses and the name etched in the silver name tag pinned to his uniform read 'Agent Robert Burns.' The tired and bored appearing agent sauntered forward. He removed his dark blue DHS cap, and wiped his forehead below his short receding dark hair with his arm. His new dark leather boots and khaki pants were covered with dust, and this light-blue uniform top showed perspiration stains at his neck and armpits.

As Zeke powered down the window of the SUV, the agent took a long look at the handsome face of the young man driving the expensive car. He recalled the face from the 'suspicious persons' file he had been studying moments before, and suppressed a smile of recognition. He walked forward, and stopped beside the car and looked down into Zeke's eyes.

"Everyone out," he called harshly. "You were randomly selected for a full-auto search. Agent Miguel, please scan them and then give me a hand."

The first agent pointed his RFID scanner at them. His face was nearly unreadable behind thick sunglasses, but Zeke believed he detected a slight intake of breath, a slight movement of the head that he found suspicious. But, the agent only nodded and then turned to the Explorer and began to search for weapons or explosives. The deputy led the dog to the car, but soon pulled it back indicting it was clean.

"You may reenter," Agent Burns intoned. "The DHS apologizes for any inconvenience, but we must all make sacrifices in the name of freedom," he said smiling as he removed his sunglasses. Zeke noted that the smile did not extend to his cold, hard eyes.

The four non-humans and Rachael entered the Explorer, and Zeke turned on the ignition and prepared to depart when the agent bent and lowered his head close to the open Explorer window. He studied each person with a glare that said he was memorizing each person's face.

Then he looked at the display on the scanner in his hand and turned to Zeke and said "Have a good day Ezekiel D'tharthé, 16, of 9947 Sunset Place, Roswell, New Mexico." He started to pull back, and then lowered his head to look Zeke squarely in the eyes. "Don't forget your homework, it's due at 10 tomorrow, third period, Ms. Kostova's AP Calculus class at West Roswell High," he added in a menacing 'I've got my eyes on all of you and know where I can find any of you at any time' tone.

Zeke engaged the transmission and slowly, carefully pulled away. He watched in his rear-view mirror as a saw Cede, another Protector, standing impatiently beside his white Chevy Impala, waiting for his inspection. Zeke also saw the two agents and the deputy as they stood together and studied his retreating form.

"That was eerie," Hera observed.

"The guy with the sunburn, Agent Burns, he gives me the creeps," Rachael shivered and snuggled close to Alex, and she took his hand and pulled it around her.

Zeke was also alarmed, but chose to keep his suspicions to himself, not wanting to upset the others. "Just another underpaid government lackey stuck out in the middle of nowhere doing an unpleasant job." He accelerated as he sped towards town. "Let's get Hera to work."

The rest of the journey was conducted in near silence, as each was lost in their own thoughts. As Zeke turned onto Main Street he passed the Chevron gas station and noted the prices were up again: now to $6.99/gallon. The latest terror alert, sabotage of the refineries and pipelines, and the continuing troubles in Iraq and Iran had driven the price even higher. As he pulled up in front of the Crashdown in a somber mood, Zeke noted the digital clock on the dashboard read 1812.

Hera and Rachael jumped out, and then Hera turned and ran back to the driver's side window and kissed Zeke. "Come on in. We've got Green Eggs & Moon Rock Hash and Venus Meatloaf Platter; José has been working on them all week and they're pretty good."

Zeke's mood perked up seeing the smile on her face. "I'd love to, but Blanca's preparing dinner." Hera gave him a 'so what' look. Zeke laughed as he continued, "Blanca never cooks!" He looked right and left to make sure no one was listening "she installed a food computer," he whispered. Hera leaned in the window and kissed him again. "Blanca's preparing a feast for Brody," Zeke continued. "He was scheduled to fly back this afternoon, after completing his business in Boston."

Hera turned and waved as Rachael headed home. Hera opened the door to the Crashdown where she nearly collided with an irritated Jeff Parker who had been watching through the front window.

The tall thin owner barked "late again, young lady," his eyes hard with irritation. "We've been waiting for you. Nancy and I have a dinner engagement, but we couldn't leave until you arrived. Now you've made us late."

Hera scrunched her shoulders in an apologetic motion. "It wasn't my fault," she tried to explain. "There was a roadblock and DHS agents, and…"

"There are always roadblocks now; just get used to it and leave a little earlier," he grumpily commented as he turned to walk towards the kitchen and his apartment above the restaurant. "Get changed; Xiomara has been handling all your tables while you wasted your time with that Zeke kid." He started to walk away and then turned "I don't like him, mark my words, he's trouble."

Nancy, his thin, attractive, fair-skinned and ginger-haired wife of 43, who had come silently up behind them put a hand on Jeff's shoulder. "And you should know about trouble," she dryly commented. "I recall a real hell raiser, one my parents despised, and yet he seemed to turn out okay," she smiled and wrapped an arm around Jeff's waist as they walked to kitchen.

"What was that about?" Hera asked to Xiomara who had moved to her side.

"Since he lost his daughter all those years ago, he's become very protective of all the young waitresses. I guess we remind him of his little girl," Xiomara noted.

Zeke pulled the Explorer into the driveway of his large Spanish style ranch house on Sunset Place. Something about the green grass, the hedges, and the cacti blooming along the walkway to the front door, the stucco walls and red tile roof of his new house was comforting.

The large structure with five bedrooms, one for Blanca, one for each of the boys, and another for, one day, Zeke's mother, was new in this development of upscale homes. Each was located on a two-acre lot with a large front and back yards. Soon after they arrived, a guesthouse and garage was erected for their Royal Protectors: Cede, Gael, Bédos, and Tion. Accommodations inside were offered, but the Royal Protectors felt they could better patrol the grounds, and protect the Prince, from a separated structure.

Zeke rounded the driveway and noticed two strange cars parked in front of the three-car garage. He pulled his SUV into the center slot and he and the Twins noticed Blanca's yellow Volkswagen Beatle convertible parked to his right.

"Blanca's car's here," Alan noted happily.

"She must have picked up Uncle Brody from the airport," Alex exclaimed.

Zeke nodded and smiled. "Do you recognize the other cars?"

Alan looked at Zeke incredulously, "You don't scan things in do you?" Shaking his head as he continued, "You have to pay more attention." Becoming more serious he said "it could be the difference between life and death."

"The silver Cadillac Seville belongs to your grandma, you know, Diane Evans, the real estate agent that found us this house," Alex observed.

"And the truck, it belongs to the Sheriff and our grandmother, Amy," Alan happily provided.

"I know whose cars they are, I'm asking if you know why they're here," he snapped.

"Don't bite our heads off," Alex replied. "We're here to protect you, but that doesn't mean we have a crystal ball," he replied.

Zeke knew his tone was inappropriate, but the visit to the Compound, the 'sight' of Ultra calling him with her eyes, and then the suspicious DHS agents had spoiled an otherwise happy day.

"Sorry, didn't mean to snap," he apologized. "I must be tired from the walk in the desert and the drive back." He could see Alan and Alex looking at him, not understanding his irritation. "I guess," knowing it was best to come clean "I was more upset by those DHS agents than I let on," he offered. "Help me keep an eye on them, okay?" The boys nodded, smiled and led him to the rear door into the house.

As they walked into the kitchen, they could see the doors from the family room were open and could hear voices coming from the back yard. Alex moved rapidly forward, and kept a restraining hand on Zeke, ready to protect him. Alan took up a similar protective stance guarding their rear. The group nudged forward and peeked out.

They could see the redwood-stained deck leading to a series of steps that opened into the large back yard, a hot tub, and the crystal blue waters of their Olympic-size swimming pool. A large table with chairs for 10 was set up under a small white gazebo tent. Brody was standing before a gigantic stainless steel grill, wearing a white apron with a chef's hat on his head. The fire flared up as he turned over a huge T-bone steak. Blanca, in tan slacks and a pale orange and green cotton blouse turned and laughed. She saw Zeke and the boys and went over to them smiling.

"You're back, great," she happily noted. "Brody made it home safe and sound."

Zeke lowered his voice, "Why are these people here?"

Blanca pulled him and the Twins aside. "You wanted to find out what happened to your father, the man," she whispered as she struggled to find the right word, "Max II as you call him, and the others, in this timeline. These people know more about them than anyone else. I've cultivated their friendship over the years because I knew it would be important. I've asked and they've provided a little information about Max II and the others, but I'm sure they know more. Just be pleasant and we'll see what we can find out."

A loud chime rang from a speaker mounted above the patio door. "We have one more set of guests coming," she announced. "Zeke honey, do me a favor and bring them back."

Zeke, caught off guard by the familiarity Blanca had effected, hesitated a moment, and then retraced his steps back towards the house. The Twins began to follow and moved close to his side, but he shook them off. "I think I can open the door by myself," he whispered.

Zeke entered the house through the double patio doors leading off the deck, and walked by the large family room, down the hallway, past the nearly empty living room to the front door. He opened it and was immediately surprised.

"Mr. Parker," he exclaimed. Zeke stood uncertain, and then feared there was something wrong. "Is it Hera? Is there something wrong? Is she okay," he nearly screamed with concern.

"No," Jeff replied, surprised with the intensity of the young man's concern. "Hera's fine; we just came for dinner." Seeing the concern in the young man's face he thought: maybe he's not the rich punk I thought.

The noise brought the Twins running. They slowed when they saw that everything was okay, but still lingered in case they were needed.

"Blanca… she invited us," Nancy offered weakly.

It dawned on Zeke that they were waiting expectantly for him to open the door, and he quickly opened it and invited them in with a forced smile. "Welcome," he lamely offered. "Blanca didn't tell me she had invited guests, just that Brody was returning." They entered the foyer and started down the hallway when Zeke turned. "I don't think we've really been properly introduced. I'm Zeke and these are my cousins Alex and Alan. And Blanca, she's… my… our… sorta like our aunt."

"This is my wife Nancy, and I'm Jeff Parker," he said as he offered his hand first to Zeke and then to the Twins. "I've seen you in the Crashdown with Hera. I take it you are her new boyfriend," he offered.

Zeke immediately picked on the word 'new,' but did not pursue it. "Come on out back. Brody is grilling steaks and from the aroma I think they are about done," Zeke noted with a forced smile.

Zeke, the Twins, and the Parkers emerged from the patio door and walked to the tent. Jim and Amy, in casual clothes, stood in front of the grill. While the two waited they admired the beautiful royal green glaze on the ceramic plates, and the unusual double swirl that encircled a small triangle. The gold of a small crown above the triangle caught the sun's fading rays. Brody conferred with Jim and Amy about their food choices and placed a thick T-bone steak on each of their plates and then added an aluminum-foil covered baked potato and an ear of golden sweet corn. Brody picked up more plates and served Alex and Alan who quickly moved to the table and took up positions opposite Jim and Amy.

At the grill, Zeke offered a plate to Diane, and once they had their food accompanied her to the table. He sat quietly at the table waiting for the others. He tried not to stare, but the only link to his father, to his life in Roswell before time was shifted, sat demurely across the picnic table. Zeke was conceived on Earth, and while still growing rapidly in his mother's womb, he was spirited away in a fantastic journey across the galaxy so he could be born on Antar. That was only six years ago. Antarian children developed at a rate more like terrestrial animals, growing to maturity in only a few years. His mental progress was artificially accelerated by use of the 'Learning Temple,' which allowed fantastic amounts of knowledge to be simply and permanently transferred. Zeke was physically and mentally a young adult; but, while most of his contemporaries residing on his 'birth' planet orbiting around its sun, Taur, were married, he was masquerading as a 16 year-old teenager.

While fully grown, and usually emotionally sound, he was also experiencing the pangs of separation unlike nothing in his life. He chose to leave Antar, to leave his father and his Mother Liz, and his first love, Ultra, to pursue his love for Hera. But, he desperately missed them. Now, sitting opposite him was the closest thing to home: his grandmother Diane Evans.

Diane, mid 40s, with fashionable shaped blondish brown hair, large clear-blue eyes, and a sensible constitution, sat opposite Zeke. She had met him only once or twice, during the tour of available homes from her real-estate office and the home inspection trip that led to the purchase of this estate.

She recalled when she first met him, and was struck by his strong jaw, the color of his deep soulful eyes, the shape of his shoulders, the protuberant ears, and the air of control. She noted his almost regal bearing and the deference the others in his family paid him. She tried not to stare, but she could not overcome the overwhelming sensation that he was somehow related to her son Max. She knew it was impossible, but still when she caught him staring at her, the look of love and adoration he immediately tried to shield, caused her to draw in a shuddering breath that was a mixture of confusion, exhilaration, and wonder. Back at the grill, Brody next served Blanca, and finally Jeff and Nancy before he filled his own plate and moved to the table.

The group ate hungrily and quickly polished off the excellent food. Finished, the boys pushed back their plates and stared at Amy. Their faces sported small grins as they stared, eyes unblinking. They soaked in the sight of their grandmother, and a tiny glimpse of home and normality. Both Jim and Amy immediately noticed the boys and their unbroken, unnatural stares. At first Amy felt uncomfortable, and wanted to turn away, but something in their smiles said 'we love you, please don't reject us.'

Amy asked herself, who are they? Why are they staring at us… no at me? But, the longer they looked at her, the more comfortable, rather than less, she became. Those eyes, the shape of their brows, their chins and noses… No, she knew it's impossible. Still Amy could see the resemblance to her Maria's. If it was not impossible, she would have sworn that they were her children… no, her grandchildren.

Slowly, at first tentatively, the boys extended their hands. As if it was the most natural thing in the world, Amy extended hers too. The boys each took one into theirs, holding it with such love, that soon tears filled her eyes. As one seeped out and fell slowly down her cheek, she noticed that the eyes of the boys also glistened. Alex raised a hand and gently wiped her tear away. He smiled and looked at Alan who was also smiling broadly as he gazed into his grandmother's eyes.

Jim sat thunderstruck with the reaction of Amy and these two strange boys. He struggled to find words, to request some type of explanation when Blanca spoke.

"Thank you so much for coming," Blanca intoned. "Brody has been gone for nearly a month and I wanted to welcome him home in style."

"Were you abducted again?" Jim teased.

"No," Brody laughed; "Just a little family business."

"The steaks were delicious Brody," Nancy happily commented. The gathered guests and family smiled, and Zeke and the Twins clapped for their cook.

"I also thought I'd take this opportunity to introduce the young men who are staying with me for a while. At the far end are Alex and Alan Pavé. Amy, you'll be interested to learn that their mother's name is Maria, like your daughter, and she is also a tall beauty with strawberry blonde hair."

Hearing these words somehow clinched the impossible. Amy stared open mouthed, too excited and too confused to speak. But, she knew she should say something. "That's very interesting," she responded weakly. Then she braved forward, with the question she desperately needed answering, "Where is your mother?"

"She and dad are on vacation," Alan quickly improvised, "far away."

"They had an out-of-this world opportunity," Alan offered, "to see some amazing sites."

Blanca feared this might have gone too far, too fast, so she interceded. "I'm serving as their legal guardian while they are away," Blanca clarified. Blanca next turned to Zeke, "And nearest to me is Zeke D'tharthé. I refer to him and the Twins as my nephews, but we are not really related by blood. I'm just a close friend of the family. His mother is finishing her degree at…," she paused almost saying too much, "the University, and Zeke's staying with me and the Twins during her absence."

Diane's head swung back and forth in wonder. She studied Zeke's masked face; saw him trying valiantly, but not totally successfully to suppress the grin, trying to not look at her with his goofy little-boy-coming-to-see granny expression. She stared at the Twins and saw the unguarded look of adoration in Alex and Alan's eyes as they stared at Amy.

"Are you boys related?" Jim asked suspiciously. "Good looking young men with blonde hair and blue eyes are a little unique in these parts."

"Our fathers are brothers, so we are cousins. My mother and father are…," Zeke struggled to find the correct words. "My father is joined to another, and my mother Tess has custody."

Jim's eyes shot open, but he quickly suppressed the reaction. Tess! He recognized it as the name of the girl in Fresno. He knew he had to find out more, but he must do it carefully so as to not arouse their suspicions.

"Where do you boys call home?" Jim inquired, trying to shield the excitement from his voice, still desperate to bring some clarity to this confusing confrontation.

"We're from Fresno, California," Alan replied as he had been coached by Blanca; "near the University." Zeke looked surprised, and turned a questioning gaze to Blanca, but quickly hid his surprise as he saw where they were leading the conversation.

Jim looked at Amy, and then the others, startled by yet another coincidence. Like Jim, they knew that their children, fresh high school graduates, who had disappeared almost three years before, were last seen at an apartment by the University of California campus in Fresno. To Amy this was just another signal telling her that, as impossible as it seemed, these two boys were somehow related to her daughter.

"I'm from California too, from over by the coast, north of LA," Zeke offered, anxious to see their reaction. Hera had overhead Jim and the others speaking in the Crashdown about the disappearances, and she had told Zeke that this location was somehow important.

"From Pigeon Point?" Amy sputtered as she half rose from her seat. "The lighthouse… you're from Pigeon Point aren't you?" she nearly shouted desperate for confirmation.

Jim stared at Amy in shock. He knew that she had also connected these boys to the strange, nearly unbelievable tale they had recently uncovered. In a flash, he recalled the strange tale. Their children, along with Jeff and Nancy's daughter Liz, and their friend Alex had disappeared driving his dad's Volvo. At the same time, in a seemingly unrelated event, Diane's adopted children, Max and Isabel, had left to check out a college in San Francisco; they had also mysteriously disappeared.

Three years after their departure and disappearance, the Volvo had been involved in an accident in Fresno. He and Amy followed the trail, and eventually tracked down two graduate students at UC-Fresno who recalled Jim and Amy's children. What was truly amazing was that Diane's children and their friend Michael had been there too.

The grad students, John and Jerald, reluctantly relayed a crazy, impossible story. The Roswell kids, and a new girl named 'Tess,' and her father, had met at the grad student's apartment. Then they left in a rush, saying they had to go to LA to catch their ride. John was sure they were aliens, or at least Max, Tess, and her father were. The students believed that the kids had driven their van to a space ship hidden below the Pigeon Point Light House, had entered, and blasted off to another planet. Jerald claimed that the blast and the takeoff were reported in the news, and that Tess's van was found in the parking lot, next to a stolen convertible. But, the van disappeared...

Jim broke from his reverie, and gave Amy a warning look, "My steak was really excellent, Brody," Jim stated, anxious to change the subject. "Where did you get them?" he questioned.

He turned to Amy and subtlety pointed his chin at their friends. Amy still rattled, nevertheless picked up Jim's urgent signal and tried to cover her gaff, "I… always shop for meat down at Watson's Market, but… I heard that the new Belmonte store they opened on Russell Parkway is very good."

Diane, Jeff, and Nancy looked confused, having never heard of anything about a lighthouse at Pigeon Point, only that their children had departed for LA from Fresno and had never been heard from again. They were further confused by Jim's obvious attempt to divert the discussion. Jeff began to question Jim, but one look at Jim's stern glare stopped him. The former sheriff glanced at each and related an 'I'll tell you later' signal.

Blanca and the boys also caught the slip, filing it away for further investigation. But, they knew that they had gathered all they could tonight, without directly asking for a briefing on the whereabouts of the lost children.

Blanca realized the awkwardness of the conversation and leaped in. "Your right Amy, I picked up the steaks at Belmonte's," she explained.

"And I saw the sweet corn at a produce stand just outside the Mesaliko Indian Reservation, on my way back from the airport," Brody offered. "I just had to have some."

"May we get you some dessert?" Alex offered, trying the ease the tension.

"We've got banana cream pie and peach cobbler," Alan explained. "Can I get you a slice grandma…, I mean (he looked embarrassed at the slip), Ms. Deluca?"

At this calculated slip, both Amy's and Diane's eyes shot open as the two women stared at the boys.

Alan was staring at Alex in surprise and shock, as if his brother has revealed a closely guarded secret. Amy looked first at Jim, and then turned to Diane.

Ms. Evans looked at the Twins and then swung her head to stare at Zeke before returning her gaze at Amy. She could tell Amy was now fully convinced that the impossible, that the absurdly impossibility of her grandchildren, fully grown grandchildren, were sitting mere feet away. Diane looked at Zeke again and silently wondered, it's not possible, Zeke couldn't be my grandson… could he?

Blanca interceded again, "The Twins are very close to their grandmother."

"I'm sorry if I upset you, Ms. Deluca," Alex offered. "Blanca's right. We've never been away from our YaYa for so long…"

"And you look like her; we apologize if we upset you. I see our actions tonight were inappropriate," Alan stated. "We won't bother you further."

Alex and Alan stood, bowed apologetically, and quickly departed. But, as they reached the patio door leading into the house, they both turned, as if on cue, and stared back longingly at Amy. And then they were gone.

Zeke felt the awkwardness of the moment, and after an abbreviated goodbye, and a tongue-tied farewell to Diane and the others, he too took his leave.

Later that evening, long after the dinner party had concluded, the boys sat in front of identical Dell D800 large screen, high-end laptop computers. Each was silent about the unforgivable display at the picnic table; each was deeply embarrassed at their lack of discretion and at the same time silently delighted with the reconnection to one of their loved ones.

They searched different databases to gather everything they could about Pigeon Point, the lighthouse, and anything unusual that might have occurred there in 2002.

"Here, I've got something," Zeke exclaimed. He clicked on the print icon and three copies shot out of the color laser printer. He handed a copy of a headline from the San Francisco Chronicle. The headline read 'Landmark Lighthouse Destroyed in Freak Accident.' Each bent to absorb the story and the accompanying color photo.

Associated Press. June 24, 2002. San Francisco police reported a freak accident at the Pigeon Point Lighthouse today. The 115-foot California landmark was perched on a cliff on the central California coast, 50 miles south of San Francisco before being destroyed at 9:07 AM in a freak, and at this time unexplained, accident. Investigators from the Pigeon Point fire department say it might have been terrorist related. The lighthouse was closed to the public for repairs, but the grounds remained open. One observer, a retired military officer who was walking his dog along the beach noted the explosion and alerted authorities at the Department of Homeland Security. Major Curtis Wright noted that what appeared to be a rocket was ejected during the explosion. "It left a distinctive smoke trail that shot up and disappeared into the sky," he reported. "The smoke trail is very distinctive of a SAM," Major Wright noted. Sources, who wish to remain anonymous, stated that the flight signature was reminiscent of the signal from a Navy Hawk 'surface to air' missile. The mishap coincides suspiciously with a break in at the Naval Weapon Station at Seal Beach. NWS-SB authorities, however, denied reports of the break in or the purported theft of 12 SAMs.

Other eyewitnesses described a small, cone-shaped object being thrown into the sky. As it twirled it left a smoke and vapor trail. The object was tracked by the Air Force out of Edwards Air Force Base, and was first reported to have left the Earth's atmosphere and continued onwards into outer space. However, DHS officials noted that upon further analysis, the observers had confused it with an Air Force test launch. A DHS spokesperson stated "The Pigeon Point object was lost on radar shortly after its lift off, and must have fallen in to the Pacific Ocean."

No causalities were observed, however a gray Suburban SUV was found in the abandoned parking lot, next to a stolen convertible with New York plates. Both were reported as abandoned, and were to be impounded, but when tow trucks arrived shortly after the explosion, the van had disappeared. Authorities are seeking the owner of van for further questioning.

"They left!" Alex exclaimed.

"They must have used the Granolith stored in LA," he noted, "They used it to blast their way back to Antar."

"Then they're safe," Alan sighed in relief. "The pod squad from that timeline is gone, and it's safe for mom and dad to visit," he happily observed. "There's no danger now of them disrupting the space-time continuum."

"Is it?" Zeke cautioned. "We can't risk their returning if there's any chance of contact."

"Something's not right here," Alex noted. "The disappearing van… Remember, Serena warned us that if your mom or dad…" Alan started.

"…made physical contact with the Tess or Max of this timeline…" Alex finished his brother's thought.

"…the result might be catastrophic," Zeke concluded. "I think Alex's right," he noted. "Let's explore this a little further before we 'call' my dad and Michael and tell them the coast is clear."

© 2006 Roswell the Next Chapter. Unauthorized reproduction prohibited. Any similarities to events, real or imaginary, are strictly coincidental. Roswell The Next Chapter is in no way affiliated with UPN, the WB, Regency Television, 20th Century Fox, or Jason Katims Productions.

The author wishes to give credit to RTFC for some ideas, characters, and words used in this episode, as well as:

/country_lyrics_HI/Ingram_

. ?grab_id=143&EXTRA_ARG=&CFGNAME=MssFind%2Ecfg&host_id=42&page_id=3607040&query=pigeon+point&hiword=pigeon+point+

.

Chapter 2: Instructions

by

NickMax

Edited by Candy Cane, faillow, JennaBehr and sdcheesehead

Original Air Date: October 22, 2006

Ultra, the young Canoian princess stood just outside the wormhole-controls entrance staring up into the crystal clear sky and the billions of stars covering the canopy of the New Mexico night sky. The beautiful maiden, her dark brown hair covering her delicate neck, slipped her hands into her jeans pockets and stared forlornly. Her glowing amber alien eyes were the most visible sight in the mountain pass leading to a huge boulder. She pulled the collar of her dark cotton shirt up, and shivered in the chill of the late-October air. She studied the pale white moon high above and longed for her parents sitting on their throne on her planet of Cano. She longed for her own blue moon, Ibes.

"I even miss Hades," the glowing, blood-red moon circling Antar, she sadly whispered. The mention of Antar made her immediately think of her lost love, Prince Ezekiel.

"What am I doing here? Why did I leave everything I knew and loved, for him?" she softly asked herself as the tears began to well in her eyes again.

"I too have asked myself that many times, Princess," Duke Sargon spoke softly. She spun, surprised by his presence, having not heard him exit the ship where they now lived. "But, don't discount your feelings so quickly. You are discouraged right now, but that does not mean that your devotion, or your love, is not true," he counseled soothingly.

"I thought I loved Zeke, but maybe it was not love but just pride. I could not accept his selection of another," she sadly stated. "I didn't know how to let him go."

"You are despondent now, but see Zeke again, hold him close, and feel his touch before you reject your instincts. Periods of pain and sadness often accompany love," he advised. She turned and hugged the Duke, and then laid her head on his ancient shoulders. "You would not be so unhappy if your feelings for Zeke were not strong," he noted. "Your uncertainty tonight, sad and alone in a foreign land, does not mean that he is not the one." Ultra broke the embrace, smiled weakly, and moved back to stare up at the stars.

"What are you two doing out here?" Meta, Ultra's best friend, and fellow Canoian royalty, asked as she exited the cave entrance and laced her arm through her father's arm. The tall, beautiful and delicate Duchess, wearing a Canoian costume of gauzy silk that barely covered her young naked teenage body stated, "It's freezing." She looked at the troubled expression on her friend's face and knew they must be speaking of Zeke. "He'll come around, just give him some more time," she advised. Meta shivered and turned to her friend and father, "Come back in the ship and I'll brew you some Heligan Tea."

"I'm tired of staying in the ship," Ultra retorted testily.

"Why, we have everything we need in the ship. It's warm and dry, the sun does not burn your skin, and it is free of those annoying bugs," Meta reasoned.

"I don't think the Princess came all the way to Earth to hide in a cave," the Duke softly challenged his daughter.

"I won't wait any longer!" Ultra resolved. "I don't know how, or when, but I will find him and make him love me!"

Ultra considered her friend and moved close seeking support for her quest. She took Meta's hand and looked in the other's glowing ice-blue eyes. "Don't you miss the Twins?" she asked. "Don't you wish to be reunited, to see their smiling faces, to feel their touch and to have them fighting over you again?"

"I'm sure Alex," she paused and pulled in a ragged breath "and Alan too, have long forgotten about me," she observed, her eyes too filling with tears. "I'm going back in, I'm cold and this conversation is not getting us anywhere" Meta snorted and stomped away. She refused to acknowledge the pain she felt when she thought of the Twins and walked stiffly back to the cave. As she entered she muttered to herself, "running off to Earth sounded so romantic. But the reality is that we are stuck in this worthless mountain range on a small desolate planet billions of miles away from home," she shook her head in despair as she climbed up the ledge to the cave entrance.

She was far from the palace with her maids and servants, far from the fawning young men so ready to lavish her with their attentions. She smiled for the first time in what seemed days as she lamented her loss. She knew she had encouraged Ultra to find Zeke. But, she thought Ultra would get over him quickly and then they could use the ship to return to Cano.

"This extended exile is intolerable!" Meta nearly shouted as she reentered the cave. She maneuvered around the large stone that normally blocked the cave entrance, entered the cavern, and slipped past the wormhole-opening controls. She moved to the edge of the huge silver-blue intergalactic ship.

Meta recalled the night that she and her friends had snuck on board and hidden in the storage hole, then suffered through the interminable voyage as Zeke and his contingent traversed the galaxies via the wormhole. Her eyes stinging with the pain of missing the Twins, her home, and her life, she raised her hand and the blue sapphire in the ring on her right, first finger glowed. Instantly a bright blue beam was projected down from the ship's front wing.

She walked forward trying to appear confident, even if she did not feel it, her head held high like the Duchess of Cano she was, and walked towards the beam her nearly diaphanous gown trailing behind her. Instantly she disappeared back into the ship, and the transport beam was extinguished.

Jim Valenti rose as the alarm clock beside his bed rang. He hoped Amy would get it, but then remembered he had dropped her off at her own home last night. "She was upset I didn't recognize that Alex and Alan," he muttered as he shook his head in disbelief, "were her grandchildren." He stretched out an arm and hit the snooze, then immediately started to fall back asleep.

Then he sprung up and looked at the clock that read 0430. "Four thirty," he grunted as he stared at the clock and groaned. Kelly Services placed me this week at Satsuma Electronics, one of their normal first-shift security guards is going on vacation, he recalled. Slowly he pulled himself out of the warm bed, stuck his toes in a pair of old slippers and pulled a gray robe over his shabby blue pajamas as he stood. "At least I'll get off early. I can do a little checking on the Pavé boys, and their friend Zeke," he muttered as he turned and walked to the bathroom and flipped on the florescent light. He looked at his thin, drawn face, blood-shot eyes, two day-old beard, and thin sandy-brown hair in the mirror.

And, I better check on those new guards Blanca has staying in her guest house. How does a part-time librarian suddenly afford a half-million dollar house in the best part of town? he thought to himself. And how can she afford, or need, a private 24/7 security staff? He shook his head as he turned on the shower and closed the bathroom door.

The morning sun broke over the mountains west of Alamogordo and poured its life giving energy into the heart of the Mesaliko Reservation. The temperature that morning was in the 70s, unseasonably warm for the Reservation in late October. The village stirred with men in rough work clothes and women in long, tribal dresses as they prepared the morning meal.

Eddie, the young Mesaliko shaman took a final sip of his Mormon Tea, set it down on the rough wooden table outside his government-furnished one-bedroom trailer, and headed for the mountains. He passed under the limbs of the Piñon pines and breathed in the scent of drying pine resin. He smiled as he observed the final yellow and brown leaves falling from the giant cottonwood tree located at the center of the encampment, and the soft burbling sound of the small creek that provided the tribe's water supply. He took a walking stick and began to climb up the steep trail into the mountains. He spotted in the distance his grandfather, River Dog, the aging and withered elder of the tribe sitting alone, cross legged, and staring out at the rising sun from the cliff ledge above.

He also saw the young Princess waiting for him as agreed upon. They walked together silently until they reached the bottom of a small ravine and a steep, shear wall of stone that led to a barren ledge where River Dog sat. Eddie placed a finger to his lips to indicate silence, and then raised his hand, fingers up, to indicate she should wait.

Eddie grasped a vine rope and pulled himself up onto the ledge and squatted beside his grandfather in a position of reverence. The wind stirred a wisp of gray hair that had fallen from the old warrior's ponytail as the two sat perfectly still absorbing the beauty of the eastern sky: the low lying clouds now emblazoned by the sun's rays turning them into a palette of breathtaking salmon, purple and red. After a long respectful interval, Eddie asked, "Grandfather, may I speak?"

River Dog did not turn, or acknowledge the question, and Eddie was about to repeat it when the wise old man turned his gaze skyward. "You wish to ask about our new Visitors," River Dog finally replied. His words were a statement, not a question.

Eddie smiled, amazed with his grandfather. Somehow, the wise man always knew what was on his mind. "Yes, the Visitor, Princess Ultra, claims she has visited Earth before. But, she senses it is now somehow different. She wishes your counsel."

"And, she is here," River Dog stated.

Again, Eddie was surprised, but nodded. He and River Dog turned and looked down the rock wall to the trail below. Eddie had told Ultra he would plead her case, and if River Dog would permit it, he would invite her up to join them. But there was no evidence of a Princess, or anyone else, below him on the trail. He turned, to apologize for the rudeness of the young woman who had sought him out and begged for his help.

"I appreciate your willingness to see me, Great One," Princess Ultra stated.

Eddie and the old wise man jumped: startled that she had silently scaled the rocks and snuck up on them with such total stealth. Both were trained observers of nature, and capable of detecting even the most subtle changes in the sights and sounds of the forest. River Dog looked at Ultra. She stood motionless, her short dark hair and cheeks colored by the rays of the morning sun. Then she bent, and tucked her walking boots and jean-covered legs under her and comfortably assumed a similar cross-legged position. Her light-tan leather top complimented the soft amber glow of her eyes that shown with excitement. Ultra's beautiful smile melted even the hardened stare of the old shaman.

"Wise One, may I call you River Dog?" she asked politely. He lowered his head in the slightest of bows and she continued. "My friends and I returned to Earth to help me seek my love, Prince Ezekiel. He lives in Roswell, east of here," she explained. Neither Eddie nor River Dog spoke. In Mesaliko culture, it was considered impolite to interrupt, or to speak until the person had presented their case or asked for help. So, they waited patiently for Ultra to finish.

"I have wanted to enter town to search for him ever since I arrived over a month ago. He does not know that I followed him, and I am not sure if he will approve." Again the two Mesaliko Indians waited patiently and did not speak. "I do not know where he is, but I lived in Roswell before, and know it well. We have a special connection, the Prince and I," she smiled and the gesture lit her entire face. "I am sure my friends and I can locate him. But, I sense danger. There is something different here. It is Roswell, and yet, it is not the Roswell I know. Can you advise me, River Dog?"

The wise man waited until she was sure she had finished. Then he extended his strong, deeply suntanned and gnarled hands and took hers in his. He stared into her eyes, and she stared back with an unblinking look of strength and determination.

"You are right, Roswell is now different. The entire world is different. Our government now fears anything, and anyone that is not Anglo. We have suffered terribly at the hands of terrorists, and the white men, have been frightened by a virtual invasion of immigrants. The government seeks to protect our freedoms. But, by accident or by plan, their means of protection are also destroying it." He shook his head sadly.

"You would be arrested and imprisoned the moment you even approached Roswell. Anglos like you must carry a small electronic device to identify themselves to the authorities," he explained as he pointed to her neck. "A special sliver of metal and silicon the size of a grain of rice must be embedded under the skin. It does not project a signal itself, but the government can determine, even from a great distance, if you belong or not."

Ultra nodded as she watched and listened intently. "Why do you make the distinction between Mesalikos and 'Anglos,' must not all have this chip embedded?"

"Navahos, Hopis, and Mesalikos, all the Indians confined to the Reservations, have resisted this intrusion," Eddie clarified.

"So far, we have been able to fight the indignity of being branded by their chip," River Dog stated.

"But, we are not immune from the government's paranoia," Eddie cautioned. He pulled a 2-by 3-inch white plastic card from his wallet. "We must all carry an identification card like this one at all times."

Ultra extended her thin feminine hand; the sun's rays glinted off the gold bracelets around her delicate wrist, and the gold and ruby ring on her first finger, as she took it. The plastic rectangle appeared to be a simple photo-identification card. It showed Eddie's vital information: name, national identification number, legal status, address, and birth date. "My friends and I can make fake identification cards: then we can go into town," Ultra proclaimed with a smile, a resolution to her dilemma seeming to have appeared as if by a miracle.

"No," Eddie sadly shook his head. "Look closer," he said as he pointed to a metallic image on the back of the card. An ultra-thin 3/8- by ½-inch gold insert gleamed in the sun. Eddie pointed, "It is a microchip. The government sent men and they took information from all the tribe members. They also measured our height and weight, took fingerprints, a sample of our blood, and a scan of our right eye. The information was entered into a computer and then transferred to this chip. The card can be inserted into a computer at any time to confirm our identity. Only a few, we call them the Undesirables, braves who lost sight of the true way and now live in the Sin Capital, have access to the very expensive and sophisticated equipment needed to make a fake."

"However," River Dog added as he withdrew his own rectangle, "they rarely check the cards. They sometimes ask to see it, but I've never seen an officer insert one in their machines."

"So, we could make a fake, and hope they don't scan it," she summarized and then smiled.

Eddied shook his head again. "No, you don't understand: it still won't work. You are beautiful. Your skin is fair and your eyes," he struggled to name the unnatural amber glow; "you could never pass as a Native American… or even as a human."

"No, you do not understand," River Dog smiled at Ultra with a knowing glance, and then turned to Eddie. "You do not understand the powers of… our… friends," he said. "But," he became serious as he faced Ultra, "you need to do more than simply change your appearance. You must not only look like a Mesaliko, you must act and sound like one to fool the Anglos. A Mesaliko maiden is humble… and incredibly skilled in nature's arts." He turned to Ultra and stared at her intently.

"You can change your hair and darken your skin and eyes, but can you till a garden, mend your clothing, cook, clean, and tend the goats? I believe you have lived a sheltered life of privilege. Are you willing to work: work as you have never worked before for this boy?" Ultra immediately nodded, but also, looked unsure. "If so, bring your young friend Meta, her father and the teacher, and meet Eddie here at this cliff at sunrise tomorrow. If he is convinced that you all can appear Mesaliko, he will begin your training to become Mesaliko."

River Dog turned his attention back to the rising sun, dismissing Ultra, but then added "my grandson is right, you are too beautiful. Such an attractive face with your… body will immediately be noticed… and remembered. This is not the prescription to avoid detection. Go with Eddie into our village. Look at the women. Observe their appearance: skin coloring, facial features, hair styles, posture, and attitude. Return tomorrow with a plan… and… a disguise."

Zeke and the Twins, dressed in their new khaki pants and navy blue polo shirts hopped out of Zeke's Ford Explorer and joined the other kids in their identical school uniforms coming in from the parking lot. Gael in a white Chevy Impala waited patiently at the edge of the lot watching for trouble. As the boys neared the entrance, and passed by four yellow school buses lined up in front of the school, Mrs. Montanan pulled up in her shabby 1998 Honda Accord. The girls jumped out as they saw Zeke and the Twins; they waved and ran to the boys. Mrs. Montanan saw the young Prince, and called out, "Welcome home Ezekiel."

Hera took Zeke's arm as they walked to Mrs. Montanan's window. "Thank you Mrs. Montanan, I am very happy to be back."

"I think it's time you start calling me Dakura," she laughed. "Mrs. Montanan always reminds me of my mother," she noted with a smile. "I am so relieved you are safe," she said and then lowered her voice. "What news do you have of the Four? Have you made any progress on locating the Max from the new timeline? Are your parents planning to return soon?" she asked anxiously.

She realized her questioning might arouse suspicions in the alert young Prince or in her naïve daughter, so she changed track. "I would love to hear about our royals, or any news of our dear sweet planet." She smiled and started to pull away and then called out "Hera, invite your young friends over for dinner one night." Zeke smiled and nodded as Mrs. Montanan pulled out to drive to her job at the military base.

"She seemed friendlier than I remember," he commented as they continued towards the school. Alex and Alan could not resist the temptation to stare up at the many surveillance cameras surrounding the message board which announced: Pep Rally 9th Period.

"I told you about my life here on Earth after the time shift," Hera stated as they entered the school. "Mother was instrumental in helping me remember the past. She chastised me for…," Hera almost slipped and mentioned Johnny, "for things… and she strongly reminded me of my promise to remain faithful to you," she noted. "So," she smiled, as she stepped up on her toes and gave Zeke a quick kiss, "she is one of your biggest fans."

As Hera turned to leave, she slipped a note deep into Zeke's front pants pocket in a seductive measure he could not miss. Then she and Rachael smiled, giggled, and scooted off to their lockers. The boys separated, and headed for their lockers and then homerooms.

Zeke sat in this third period AP Calculus class, bored with the on-going review. It appeared most of the kids had slept through Algebra I and II and totally tuned out Geometry. But, he realized his assessment might be unfair. Prior to leaving Antar, he had spent many hours in the Learning Temple absorbing anything and everything related to Earth: history, cultures, math and science, and languages. And unlike the earthlings that surrounded him, he retained everything he read or saw with instant and total recall.

Ms. Kostova, the AP Calc teacher rattled on but no one seemed to be paying attention. Zeke watched her moving back and forth from the open book on her desk to the blackboard. Her long shinny coal-black hair was pulled back in a bun. He studied her delicate features, aquiline nose, and chestnut skin and guessed she must be in her mid-20s. The young alien noted that her face was etched with tension as she continued her monotonic, didactic lecture. Zeke quietly opened the note Hera had slipped in his pants and read the words again. He smiled broadly and re-read the lines.

I had nearly forgotten about the power of your kiss. Since you left, my experiences have been restricted to PG-13 movies, but that changed last night. I didn't know how to proceed, but you proceeded for me, and I followed gratefully, if clumsily. By the time we found ourselves sprawled on the couch in my TV room, I recalled something of the fire you could ignite in…

"Zeke!" someone called out sharply. "Zeke D'tharthé," it rang out again, this time louder and more strident.

The boy in the next chair elbowed Zeke breaking him from his reverie, and the boy pointed with his chin to their irate teacher. Zeke looked up embarrassed, caught daydreaming rather than even pretending to pay attention, and quickly slipped the note in his jeans.

"Mr. D'tharthé," she called out as she looked in her record book. "It says you attended Manzano Academy in Albuquerque before joining us in the 'backwaters'," she raised her eyes to the ceiling, closing them in a belittling gesture. "I assume from your lack of attention, that you believed that your education at that prestigious institution prepared you so thoroughly you do not need a refresher."

Zeke initially looked embarrassed, but was rapidly becoming irritated at the supercilious, condescending attitude. "I believe I have a grasp of algebra and geometry," Zeke stated quietly. The class broke out laughing, oohing and ahhing at his comeback. They looked to the little spit-fire teacher expecting an explosion.

"Well, Mr. Big City Boy, tell me what you know about Pythagoras." Zeke looked blank for a second as she held out the chalk and indicated he should come to the blackboard in front of the class. She quickly moved to erase the board, not wanting any of her geometry review to give him any help. Zeke stood awkwardly, and moved between the desks to the front of the class.

"Pythagoras," Zeke started. Two girls, Julie Lipton and Becky McCoy sat in the front row and laughed savagely, relishing his obvious discomfort. Zeke knew he should write the stupid equation and sit down, but the teacher's taunting and the kids merciless, jeering stares 'demanded' a more fitting response.

"Pythagoras was a six-century BC Greek philosopher," Zeke began as he faced the teacher and his classmates. " 'Old Py' founded a mysterious religious and scientific society call the Pythagoreans. They believed everything was related to mathematics. They are often associated with strange and superstitious prohibitions, such as not stepping over a crack… or to not eat beans, because they believed the inside of beans contained the remnants of human embryos," Zeke explained to the fascinated and now amused students.

"Aristotle explained that misconception," she shot back. " 'do not step over the balance' meant to not be covetous," she snorted. "And beans, black and white, were the means used in voting. The maxim 'abstain from beans' was nothing more than an exhortation to not vote," Ms. Kostova provided in her superior condescending manner.

Zeke could see this was becoming a debate, and he plunged forward, "His followers believed that numbers constituted the true nature of things, they believed in five hidden cavities," he continued as the kids smirked. "They believed in the sacredness of the whole number. Let me tell you, old Py was 'PO'd' when this guy computed the square root of 2. It was an irrational number. Py drowned the person who made this discovery, because it conflicted with their belief that everything could be expressed as the ratio of whole numbers."

"There is no contemporary substantiation of that claim," she fired back.

"He taught of the mythical importance of geometric shapes, specifically the triangle, square, and most importantly the pentagon." Zeke turned to the board and began to sketch a complicated shape. "He and his followers believed the existence of the dodecahedron, a 12-faced polyhedron, each face itself a pentagon," he turned and revealed an accurate drawing of a 12-sided sphere that looked much like a soccer ball "to be too dangerous to be divulged to the general public and hid its existence for hundreds of years."

"The Pythagoreans opposed scientific research," he continued. "They vehemently opposed the study and examination of nature and the outside world. The Pythagoreans effectively dismantled the explosion of knowledge that was emerging in the isolated Greek isles," he explained. " 'You did not need to explore nature; all could be discerned by studying numbers,' " they espoused. "Together with the Greek kings, they stifled innovation, and suppressed knowledge that did not conform to their limited world view. Many of the great Greek ideas were re-discovered in later centuries. Some scholars believe Pythagoras, and his followers single handedly delayed man's mental evolution by centuries."

The kids looked from Zeke to their teacher, and noted that Ms. Kostova looked tentative, unsure how to respond. Julie and Becky were especially disappointed that Kostova didn't have a stinging reply.

Zeke turned back to the blackboard and sketched a right triangle labeling the two short sides with a 3 and a 4, and the hypotenuse with a 5. He then labeled them a, b, and c, respectively. Below the triangle he wrote:

a2 + b2 = c2

"He is most famous in the West for the Pythagoras Theorem. In a right triangle, the sum of the squares of the adjacent sides equals the square of the hypotenuse," Zeke looked at the students, many of them nodding. "For example, three squared plus four squared equals five squared."

"What is most ironic is that he didn't even invent it. Indian mathematician Baudhayana is widely credited with discovering the 'Pythagorean Theorem' around 800 BC, almost 300 years before Pythagoras." Zeke sat the chalk down and walked back to his seat. The students, especially the two girls, now were very interested in this new and interesting addition to their small school.

Zeke defiantly looked directly at his teacher, "You did ask what I knew about Pythagoras," Zeke smirked.

"Don't take that tone with me young man or I'll have you in detention so fast you won't know what hit you," she replied, now angry, and inappropriately compensating for her failure to cowl the new student. Before he could reply, the bell rang and he was saved. The kids came up and surrounded his desk, congratulating him on putting the sanctimonious teacher in her place.

I made myself conspicuous, a bad idea, knowing my position, he mused. Worse yet, I created an enemy, he thought as he stood and looked back at the angry face of his humiliated teacher as he left the classroom.

The kids poured out into the hallways after third period and most headed for the cafeteria or to the parking lots to hit the fast-food joints that were within minutes of the high school. Benny and Goylzk waited outside the door to Room 107 then pounced on Alex and Alan as they exited.

Benny sized up the tall Twins and moved in close, in an intimidating manner. His nearly 6-foot 3-inch lineman frame and 298 pounds of muscle was enough to make any of the sophomores pause. "You the new kid?" Benny bore down on Alex. He pushed Alan towards Goylzk who grabbed him in his vice-like grip. "Goylzk and I just wanted to welcome you to West Roswell and let you in on some special features," he laughed.

"Give us all your money or we'll beat the snot out of you after school," Goylzk threatened.

"What my rather crude friend means," he wrapped a huge arm around Alex in an unfriendly hug "is that the strong take from the weak: this school's not safe for rich boys like you," he smirked. "You need protection, and Goylzk and I are here to offer our services. The fee," he laughed and lowered his nose to within an inch of Alex, "is all the money you have on you, and," he demanded in a bark, "and $25 a week."

Alex had had enough and was about to retaliate when Alan interceded. "I believe that would be an equitable arrangement, Mr. Benny and Mr. Goylzk. My brother and I, unfortunately, are a little tapped out today," he flashed a warning glance at Alex.

Back down now, Alan yelled telepathically. Stop or we'll be in the center of a major altercation that will draw attention to us throughout the school.

Alan smoothly continued. "But, we would be happy to compensate you tomorrow," he continued. "Shall we agree to meet tomorrow at this time to consummate the arrangements for your protective services?"

Benny and Goylzk looked at first stunned, not anticipating the ready capitulation from the tall muscular boys. Then they became suspicious and angry. "I ain't consoomating nothing with you fags," Benny exclaimed. "Hand over your money right now or I'm going to punch a hole in your head."

Suddenly Goylzk's gigantic fist shot out and zeroed in on Alex's head. But, with one blinding swift movement, he jerked his hand up and captured Goylzk's fist in his. Alex gradually slowed the motion of the attacker's fist in order not to break Goylzk's hand, and then turned it up into a 'high five' motion. Alex moved close to the stunned boy and whispered, "The strong may take from the weak, but the smart take from the strong."

Benny had had enough. He lowered his right shoulder and prepared to smash Alan into the lockers. But, as he took his first step, a sophomore Cheerleader named Sara stuck her foot forward and tripped the West Roswell's 'Comets' starting defensive lineman. He flailed forward, his head rapidly approaching the lockers. The big thug's eyes were wide, grimacing with the imminent collision when Alan deftly spun him so the bigger boy hit, back first, into the lockers. The impact caused a rumbling 'crackkkkkkkk' to reverberate down the hallway. Benny slipped down, his butt smashing into the gray tiled floor in a combination of pain and astonishment.

Suddenly Mr. Chavez, the short barrel-chested Navajo principal came running up. He rapidly spoke into his walkie-talkie and then pushed through the crowd that had ringed the boys anxious to see the fight.

"What's going on here?" he bellowed. The two local Roswell Sheriff Deputies, one stationed in the front and one in the back of the school for security came running up in response to Mr. Chavez summons.

"No problem, Mr. Chavez," Alex explained. He put a friendly arm around the still stunned Goylzk. "My buddy was showing me how they 'high-five' after they sack the quarterback. Goylzk looked bewildered, but nodded.

"And Benny was showing me his down-linesman stance," Alan smiled. "He was just messing around, pretending to rush me when he tripped," Alan took a quick glance at the girl and winked. "Luckily his training allowed him to pivot sharply and not hurt himself. Alan extended a hand and almost jerked the gigantic boy to his feet.

Benny was stunned by the strength in the young man's grip and the ease in which he hefted up his nearly 300 pound body from the floor. "Ahhh, that's right Principal Chavez; we was just messin' around. You know, we're all excited about the final home game of the year."

The principal stared at the boys, his hard eyes trying to bore into each one. Benny and Goylzk, for all their massive sizes where still just overgrown children. Subjected to his 'cop eye' stare, perfected in twenty years in the Albuquerque police department, they squirmed uncomfortably. The two new boys, however, appeared immune. He jacked it up, delivering his full 1000-watt glare, but Alex and Alan just smiled back.

Each casually searched around, picked up their books and turned back to him. "If there's nothing else, we need to get to the cafeteria," Alan noted, trying not laugh at the stern looking principal and his two Roswell Deputy thugs who all glared at him.

"I understand the cafeteria is dishing up another one of their gourmet delights," Alex commented.

"Chef TuTu becomes agitated if we don't get her goulash while it's still hot, so, if there's nothing more… we'd like to go," Alan waited for a moment, smiled and then he and Alex walked through the ring of bodies still crowding around the two football players, the principal, and the deputies. After a few steps though, Alan stopped and searched the crowd. He spotted the girl and offered her his arm. She smoothly moved to his side, linked her arm in his, and beamed up with her own 1000-watt smile as they moved to the lunch room.

Zeke and Hera were sitting alone at a circular table in the rear of the cafeteria and Zeke was outlining the latest on what he had found out about the explosion at Pigeon Point.

"We were able to break into the Pigeon Point police department computer and get the license plate of the stolen convertible. Alan and Alex did a DMV trace and we found it had been stolen in Manhattan three nights before the explosion. The police report filed by this lawyer guy reported there were four gang bangers, a guy with a Mohawk, another was a tattooed leather-vested punk, and two girls, all decked out in leather and chains," Zeke commented excitedly. "So that must have been the dupes, the other set of hybrids left on their own to grown up in the sewers of New York City."

"Next, we hacked into to the NASA database at Edwards Air Force Base, trying to find the original trajectory information on the launch. We found the link, and got through two security passwords, but are stuck at a third. It appears they are using a double encrypted Hawkyns cipher, so it must be really secret," Zeke rushed on.

"That's good news. You can rest easier knowing that the granolith launch contained the new time-line hybrids, their friends, and their duplicates and that they flew back home," Hera commented before taking a drink of her Snapple Iced Tea.

"Yes, but something still doesn't feel right. We're going to keep on digging until we get some type of confirmation," Zeke continued, his mind racing as he contemplated a challenge more enticing than the West Roswell High curriculum.

"Oh, I had a run in with Ms. Kostova in AP Calc this morning," Zeke whispered to Hera as he shook his head, still not believing how dumb he had been to put on that little display of pride. But, before he could continue, there was a buzz as a bunch of kids crowded into the cafeteria. He spotted the Twins at the head of the pack, as the boys triumphantly entered. Word of the 'fight' and the new kids' ability to handle the thugs with ease sped rapidly.

Zeke and Hera watched as the Twins moved through the lunch line, picking up congratulations as well as their trays of cheeseburgers, fries, and two cartons of chocolate milk. Alan was busy impressing the cheerleader, Sara, and Alex searched for his cousin. Zeke waved, and Alan and Sara, and Alex moved to their table and Zeke and Hera scooted around to make room.

Zeke shot Alan a telepathic barb, what have you done now?

Alan looked away from his older cousin's glare and looked down at his food while he spoke in a low voice. "It wasn't our fault, your Highness. We were attacked."

"I think we diffused the situation and Benny and Goylzk won't be bothering us anymore," Alex continued.

"You must be more careful, we can't have the authorities aroused to our…" Zeke's voice trailed off as for the first time it dawned on him that they were not alone. Sara's clear blue eyes darted back and forth between Zeke and Alan. She could not help but pick up on the strange reference Alan used to address Zeke, and wrapped her arm around the handsome new boy and moved closer, anxious to not miss a thing in what had turned out to be the most interesting morning since moving to from DC to New Mexico that summer.

Alan noticed Zeke becoming quiet and his and Hera's stare directed at the pretty cheerleader, dressed in her blue and white outfit, hanging on his arm.

"I'd like to introduce you to Sara," he turned and smiled down into her upturned face and noticed for the first time the cute dimples that adorned each cheek as she smiled. "This is my cousin Zeke, and his girlfriend Hera. Sara saved me this morning," he beamed.

"Nice to meet you Sara," Zeke offered his hand, but she could see the leeriness and the cold expression in the older boy's eyes and knew something was amiss.

She shook Zeke's hand and smiled at his girlfriend. Hera smiled back politely and nodded but the smile didn't quite reach her eyes. The feeling of exclusion was clear in the other girl's eyes. More disheartening, she could feel Alex's embarrassment, and sense Alan's discomfort, in having brought her to their exclusive table.

Sara stood up, her head held high and her expression neutral, "I've got to meet the other cheerleaders. We're having a meeting about the pep rally this afternoon," she curtly stated and then started off. She looked back at Alan; the hurt expression on her face told him her sudden departure had nothing to do with cheerleading.

"You know, mean people suck!" Alan angrily exclaimed as he turned and looked at the others. He watched her walk stiffly through the lunchroom, and started after her, but Zeke restrained him with a hand.

"Let her go," he advised softly. "We can't get involved with any earthlings, not now, at least, until we find out about the other Four," he cautioned.

Alan looked at Sara's cute petite body and her brunette ponytail swishing behind her as she maneuvered through the lunchroom tables, her hurt expression tugged at his heartstrings. He sighed because he knew Zeke was right. "I know you're right. But, she was sooo cute."

The bell rang and they moved to their lockers before heading for their afternoon classes.

Hera suffered through history and entered room 201 for French IV, her favorite class. This class was less devoted to grammar and verb conjugation, and more into conversational French. She entered and walked to her desk near the front. To her left she saw her teacher, Mrs. Lavigne. The tall middle aged teacher wore a white frilly blouse of combed cotton over a dark suit skirt. Her colored-blonde hair was pulled back, with short bangs shaping her handsome face. Hera could make out small age lines around her eyes and at the corners of her mouth. Her pale brown eyes, subtle eye shadow, severely plucked eyebrows, and bright red lipstick seem to shout sophistication in this tiny backwater town lost in the barren wasteland of the southwest.

Mrs. Lavigne was speaking rapid French to two upper class girls Hera barely knew. One, Becky McCoy turned and looked at Hera and rattled off a string of words too fast for Hera to follow. But, the intent was clear enough. Even from across the room, Hera could clearly make out the superior, down-your-nose expression of supposed superiority. The other girl, Hera could not recall her name, looked over and seemed to agree with Becky's assessment. Hera hoped Mrs. Lavigne would somehow come to her defense, but instead she seemed to stare intently, and Hera was almost sure she nodded her head in agreement.

The class bell rang and the kids moved to their seat. The class proceeded pleasantly enough, as they discussed the upcoming football game, the final home contest of the season against their archrivals the East Roswell Asteroids. The exchanges were generally in slow, methodical French, allowing Hera to keep pace. But often, in more heated exchanges, especially with some of the upper classman, the words blurred together and she was left hopelessly behind. Mrs. Lavigne often broke in to slow down the pace, correct a mispronunciation, or to clarify some odd quirk of the language.

The bell announcing early dismissal, so all could attend the pep rally, rang and the kids got up, gathered their books and moved to the door. The two prissy girls stood by the exit watching, almost willing Mrs. Lavigne into action.

"Hera," the teacher called, "can you stay a moment? I'd like to discuss something with you." Hera's heart skipped a beat and she quickly turned and looked at the door and saw the two girls smiling with their infuriating, superior frowns.

Becky puffed out her lips and whispered "Au revoir," in a taunting, nasty manner. Then the two girls laughed heartedly, and moved out into the hallway and were lost in the crowd.

Hera turned to her teacher who had moved down the row and was sitting on the desk top across from her. "Hera, I've observed you in class. You seem to be struggling a little. I reviewed your records, and I see there has been a mistake. You were misassigned, and should have been in Mrs. Shirley's French III rather than in my class."

"It was our mistake. I apologize for letting you go this far before I realized you were struggling. This is an advanced upper-classman course. Most of the other students are Juniors or Seniors and you are only a Sophomore," she apologized. "But, you appear so mature, much older than 15, I just didn't notice."

Hera was crushed hearing her favorite teacher discussing her banishment from the only interesting class in her curriculum. "I am very mature for my age; I sometimes think of myself as an older person temporarily trapped in a teenager's body," she explained. "Is there any way I could be allowed to stay in this class?" she begged. Mrs. Lavigne began to shake her head no, but Hera continued. "My mother speaks fluent French," she lied. "I'm sure with just a little more practice at home I'll be able to excel in your class." Now desperate, she tried to barter. "Let me stay through the first midterm. If I don't do well, B or better, on the test, then I will go quietly to Mrs. Shirley's class."

"Okay," her teacher smiled. "I'll give you through the first midterm, but, it is tomorrow. It's going to require a lot of studying tonight young lady," she laughed. "You know, I could tell you had another French speaker in your life; your accent, it is quite pleasant, but definitely not from around here. I've been trying to place it all term," she commented. "Where is your mother from?"

Hera knew she was trapped in another lie, and desperately sought a plausible response. "My mother traveled a lot when she was younger," she improvised. "I guess she picked it up, here and there."

As the pep rally finished, with the band playing the fight song, and the cheerleaders exalting the students to attend the game and root their school to victory, the students filed out of the auditorium. Dozens ran out the front door and past the office entrance. Like the others, Zeke and Hera moved so fast that they didn't notice Jim Valenti waiting patiently on a chair in the small waiting room outside the office of his old friend, and fellow former police officer Principal Chavez.

Zeke and Hera, now hand in hand, and Rachael exited the side door and headed for the parking lot and his Ford Explorer. As they reached the SUV, and Zeke opened the door for her, he looked back and saw Alex and Rachael walking in their direction. Zeke searched for Alan and spotted him beside the school door holding the hand of the petite, brunette cheerleader. Alan stole a quick kiss, and then started to run towards the parking lot. Zeke smiled and shook his head and then effected an irritated expression as he slipped in behind the wheel and looked out the open door. Moments later Alan came running toward the car and jumped in the back seat. He lowered his eyes, to avoid Zeke's stare, and then turned as if nothing had happened.

"How about an 'Alien Blast' at the Crashdown?" he asked, trying to sound innocent.

"I could go for a 'Will Smith Burger' and 'Chili Orbit Rings,' " Alex jumped in, hoping to deflect Zeke's apparent irritation.

"And some 'Men-in-Blackberry Pie,' " Alan added.

Hera turned and looked at the two boys working tag team to appease their older cousin. "I'd love to go too, but I've got to get home. I've got to study for a midterm," she added.

Zeke backed the SUV up, and pulled forward behind a line of student cars waiting their turn to exit. Zeke turned to Hera and smiled as he took her hand.

Rachael studied Hera from the rear seat. "I've never heard of you studying for any class; 4.0 not good enough for you?" she joked.

"It's French; I got assigned to the wrong class. But, it's the only really challenging period in the day, and I don't want to go back to French III. I'm effectively a year behind the other kids, but if I hit the books…," she trailed off recognizing the impossibility of the assignment.

"Making up an entire year in one night? No problem," commented Alex from the back.

"Yeah, just pull out your Learning Temple, and you could be more fluent than the teacher in no time," Alan offered.

"No!" Hera replied, a little too loud, and little too strident. "I mean, you don't really have the satisfaction of accomplishing something if you cheat," she reasoned.

Alex leaned forward and looked at Hera in confusion. "You think using the Learning Temple is cheating?"

"Well," Hera explained, "you get the great grades, and you score better than the other students without really studying. They work really hard, and you win… sounds sort of like cheating to me," she concluded. "But the choice is simple for me; we don't have one." Before Zeke could offer, she began to shake her head, "and I'm not using yours."

Zeke pulled up to her house, jumped out, and walked Hera to her door. He gave her a long kiss, but she pushed him gently away. "No, you're not doing that again," she giggled. "I can't be distracted," she whispered as she ran a hand through his hair. "I've got French to study," she said as he gave him one last kiss and then slipped into her house.

Zeke watched for a second, and waved to her through the window in the door and then rejoined the Twins. As he entered the SUV, he saw that Alan had moved to the front bench seat of the large powerful car leaving Rachael alone with Alex in the back. Zeke turned on the ignition, and then looked at his cousins and Rachael, and said, "Alien Blast, right." The others nodded, but as he began to pull out Zeke turned to Alan and said, "And we need to discuss a certain cheerleader."

Jim put down the year old Newsweek magazine and stood up as Principal Chavez entered the administration block and walked towards his office.

"Jim Valenti," he smiled as he offered his hand. "I haven't seen you in years. How are you?"

"I'm fine, Chandak," Jim smiled as he shook the principal's hand.

"Sit down; can I get you a coffee, black and strong as I recall." Jim nodded, and took a steaming cup from his long-time friend. "How are you adjusting to a life without the badge?" he inquired.

"I've lucked into some different and interesting jobs since I left the sheriff's office," Jim explained. "Some private security and an occasional PI job," he offered and then tried to turn the conversation away from his painful memories of being kicked off the force. "You seem to have adjusted well since you retired and turned in your gold detective's shield," Jim observed.

"It's not the same adrenalin rush as working undercover or vice, but it's often more excitement than I need," he jokingly added. "But, something tells me this is not a social call," he noted. "Come clean, Jim, what can I do for you?"

"Well," Jim started, unsure exactly how to proceed. "I was hoping I could get a little information about a couple of your students: Zeke D'tharthé and his cousins Alex and Alan Pavé. They just moved here from California."

The principal first looked surprised and then concerned. He moved forward in his seat and asked, "Are they in trouble, Jim? Is this part of a job?"

"No, nothing official," Jim explained, "just a little private snooping. I met them at dinner at a friend's house the other night. Something seemed off, and I don't want my friend to get hurt. So, what can you tell me?"

"You know everything in their files is confidential, and it would be unethical to provide any specifics."

"But…?" Jim probed.

"All I can say is they came very well prepared. Their transcripts show they are excellent students, but that should be expected coming from the best preparatory school in Albuquerque," Chandak divulged.

Jim smiled, as he rose and shook his friend's hand. "That's all I needed to hear," he said as he picked up his hat and fitted it on his head to go. "I knew they were up to something: they lied about coming from Fresno," he told his friend. Jim took several steps towards the door, and with his hand on the door handle turned back to wave goodbye.

"I hear the Manzano Academy is excellent," the Principal offered. "You should take a tour sometime, best school in the state. Mrs. Simpson, in the Guidance Office, is an old friend. Mention me if you are ever in the area," he supplied with a wink.

Hera pulled out her French book and her portable CD player. She sorted through the 'French Conversation Made Easy,' disks and put one in. She clipped the CD to her jeans and walked into the kitchen. As she started to open the refrigerator she noticed the red 'message' light was blinking on the phone. She picked it up, entered the voice mail code and listened.

Heraetta honey, this is your mom. I've got to work late at the base. Don't wait for me for dinner. There are frozen TV dinners in the freezer. Hope to be back by 11. Love you, Mom.

Hera shook her head, and poured a Diet Coke with Lime into a tall ice-filled glass. She added a couple shakes of Tabasco and then returned to her sun-drenched bedroom and began to study. She plopped down on her antique four-poster bed and listened to the droning voice on the CD. Hera knew she needed to study, but she was tired, and the warm stuffy room combined with the boring CD soon sent her to sleep.

Hours later she awoke with a start. She looked up in her darkened room and noted that it was after 2130. "No! I couldn't have fallen asleep! Not tonight," she moaned. "I'll never cram a year's worth of French into a few hours. It's hopeless… unless…," she began to rationalize. "I mean, new technology comes along all the time. They don't call listening to a CD player or studying on the computer, cheating."

Hera opened her bedroom door into the dark living room and walked to her mother's door. She looked at the clock and knew she only had about a half hour before her mother would return. She approached the locked door and recalled her mother's strange prohibition to never enter. She recalled as a child trying to use her powers to open the door, but whatever lock her mother had applied it was far too strong. Still, Hera had not tried in years. On Antar she would be considered fully grown, and her powers would never be stronger. She placed her hand on the handle and concentrated, soon there was a flash of red light and a satisfying click as the door handle turned in her hands.

"I know we had a small temple years ago, but mother forbid me to use it to advance my education," she said to herself. She rummaged in the drawers, the closet and under the bed, but found nothing. Next she raised her hand, fingers up and faced each of the room's four walls. She found nothing until she tested the final wall with the outside window.

The wall dissolved and she saw a short royal green curtain emblazed with a glowing white whirlwind symbol. The curtain was drawn closed over something. Somehow it conjured up a feeling of dread.

She pulled back the curtain to reveal a life-size painting of a young, forceful male. His hair was fashionably long, short curls covered his ears and fell below his collar. The face was handsome and yet cruel. The man had green eyes like hers and a long straight nose. His lips were narrow under a thick dark mustache; the whiskers followed his chin to form the rest of a dark goatee.

He looks like a king, she thought. He had sharp cheekbones and heavy dark black eyebrows. The unpleasant expression on his face exuded strength and power. The eyes were the most unnerving feature of the painting. She moved back and forth as she stared. They followed her no matter where she stood, she observed. Hera studied the eyes and they seemed to bore into her soul almost as if the painting was alive. After a second, she broke eye contact and looked away for relief.

"That is how Lord Khivar looked before he took the throne," Mrs. Montanan whispered as she entered the room and stared spellbound up at the painting.

Hera jumped at her words, startled by the early return of her mother.

"He was twenty-five years old when this was painted. This was before he dispatched Zan and the other royals and assumed the crown. Khivar was powerful and oh so sexy, and I was," Hera was amazed as she stared open mouthed at her mother who was blushing, "caught up in his charm. He was the most exciting Antarvéian man I had ever met. Eventually, we entered a more 'physical' relationship, and you fair daughter, are proof of your father, King Khivar's greatness.

Suddenly the implication and the words began to sink in "My father!" She turned and stared at her mother, the sense of hurt and betrayal stoking her feelings of outrage. "King Khivar is my father?!"

© 2006 Roswell the Next Chapter. Unauthorized reproduction prohibited. Any similarities to events, real or imaginary, are strictly coincidental. Roswell The Next Chapter is in no way affiliated with UPN, the WB, Regency Television, 20th Century Fox, or Jason Katims Productions.

The author wishes to give credit to RTFC for some ideas, characters, and words used in this episode, as well as:

The Historian, by Elizabeth Kostova, 2005.

and

The Rule of Four, by Ian Caldwell, Dustin Thomason, 2004

Chapter 3: Recollections

by

NickMax

Edited by Candy Cane, faillow, and JennaBehr and sdcheesehead

Original Air Date: November 5, 2006

Dakura rose early, and stood in the kitchen of her modest house off Second Avenue. The morning was cool and she pulled the light-purple terrycloth robe tight as she poured a cup of steaming eiffel, the thick coffee-like drink, into a heavy ceramic mug. She opened the front door and sat down on the swing on the porch and quietly sipped her drink while watching the sun rise slowly, majestically in the East. Birds chirped and the clear morning sky beckoned only another peaceful day. She finished her eiffel and reentered the house. She noticed it was unusually quiet. The loud blaring of rock music that usually accompanied her daughter's preparation for school was absent, and the house was unnaturally silent.

She moved to Hera's door, listened and heard nothing, then turned the handle and entered. She looked in to the small, cramped room, and saw her sweet daughter curled up on the bed, still dressed and sound asleep. Mrs. Montanan turned sharply and looked at the digital clock by Hera's bedside table and saw it was 0613.

"What's going on? She's normally up long before this." She moved to her daughter's bed, sat down on the ruffled coverlet and stared down at Hera's normally beautiful and peaceful face. This morning her daughter tossed and turned as if having a nightmare. She was unsure if she should wake her from such torment, and fidgeted with the simple gold ring on her first finger in indecision. Deciding she could not let her suffer, she gingerly extended her long thin hand to her daughter and touched her cheek.

But, Hera did not wake. Her mind had been invaded by a distant force. She was trapped in a nightmare staring at a portrait of Khivar, her father, while confronting her mother.

"And when were you going to tell me! When were you going to tell me you were a Queen and I was a Princess?! Or, were you a whore and I a bastard?!" she shouted at her mother. But Dakura did not shrink away at the challenge, or the harsh words. Instead she stared lovingly up at the sinister painting of Khivar. Hera continued: "Why did you make up the whole story that my father was an officer of the King's Guard and killed in the conflict trying to save Princess Vilandra?"

"Oh, come on. You're a smart girl, Heraetta," Dakura smiled back wickedly. "Are you going to tell me you did not suspect? That you didn't know?" she asked with an incredulous stare. "You know that apperating is a skill relegated to only the royals..."

Hera interrupted: "And some of the Protectors, you said my father was… and I thought…" Hera helplessly pleaded.

"And your other powers? The ability to shift, to change your appearance, transmute materials," Dakura almost spat out. "You've known for years… you have to have known."

"No," she began to cry under the cruel attack of her mother. "I didn't know. It's…"

"What about the 'Posesión'?" Dakura asked in her cruel manner. "Only those whose blood is true, only those descended directly from the king, can deliver 'The Kiss,' " she hissed. "The moment you kissed Zeke and claimed your poor unsuspecting Prince… you knew!"

Hera shrank down, and collapsed onto her bed, guiltily, because all that her mother had said was true. She knew her blood was Royal, and yet, she didn't know. Hera had hoped there was another explanation. "Not Khivar!" she sighed in a ragged, crying voice. "Not Zeke's sworn enemy," she cried.

"I still can't believe you didn't tell me," Hera complained.

"Why? In the original timeline, your father was murdered by Max and his slimy band of misfits," she hissed.

"He just defended himself from Khivar's… father's… unprovoked attack!" Hera jumped to their defense.

Dakura ignored her naïve daughter. "But, now we are saved. I planted the time shift idea in the new Queen's sister. I let her convince Max to shift time, and now our glorious lord is back! And this time, there will be no mistake." Hera turned, terrified as she looked up into her mother's almost possessed eyes. "This time you and I will kill the Four! We will make Earth suitable for our lord, and his glorious return. You and I will reclaim our place at his side. Ascend to the glory that should have been ours, when I become the Queen and you, the Princess of the realm," she proclaimed

"Hera. Hera honey, it's time for school," she spoke soothingly as she shook her daughter's shoulder.

Hera awoke violently, her eyes wide in fright and stared up at her mother looking down on her in concern. "Time to get up sleepy head," Dakura whispered with a sweet smile as she moved a lock of Hera's short brown hair from her daughter's eyes and stared down with total, unconditional love.

Hera jerked back at the touch in revulsion. "What are you doing here?!"

Dakura laughed in confusion, "I live here." She could not understand the look of hatred being projected from Hera's bright green eyes, and felt uncomfortable. "It's getting late and I thought I better wake you for school."

"School?" Hera exclaimed as she struggled to reconcile this sweet concerned mother and the cruel woman that berated her only moments before.

"School," Dakura laughed. "You know; West Roswell High School: pretending to be a good little earthling."

Hera looked around her room. She saw the dark legs of her four-poster bed, the second-hand chest of drawers, the pictures of her and her mom at the Chaves County Fair, her and Rachael cheerleading at Ridgeview, and the new picture of her and Zeke playing Putt Putt; then she looked at her mother in her familiar robe. She shivered, confused, unable to reconcile the juxtaposition of everything she knew and the vividness of what must have been a dream.

"But, what of Khivar?" she inquired. "You are his wife," she blurted out. "How could you have not told me?!" she nearly screamed.

"Khivar?! I am not; have never been Khivar's wife!" she stated strongly. While his consort, they had never been joined: still she felt uneasy deceiving her daughter. But, the reaction she was seeing now, with just a hint of the truth, was why she had withheld the information all these years. "Who told you that?!" she forcefully inquired.

Hera closed her eyes, unsure what was real, "I had a dream."

Mrs. Montanan steeled herself and hid the fear that was slowly seeping down her spine. Silently she wondered: What to say… how to explain. Hera would never understand… never forgive me; no I can never tell her the truth, but I must say something, she thought.

"Khivar is dead, you know that. He was defeated years ago in Roswell," she explained. "Zeke's father Max and the others; they destroyed him and his ships."

Hera stood and stared her mother in the eyes. "But that was the other timeline! Here, in this timeline you engineered, he is alive! He may be searching, even now, for Max or the other royals or… for… Zeke," she cried out. "I won't let you kill him," she cried.

"No one is killing anyone," she stated forcefully in an attempt to ease her daughter's fears. "No one has heard from the King for years." Making up her story as she went, attempting to cover her trail, "From what I recall, Khivar was… was not loved by his people. He was probably deposed long ago." Careful now, probing: "What made you even think of him?"

"I don't know," Hera offered as her mother swept her into her strong arms, hugging her tightly, as Dakura's tears of remembrance began to well.

Desperate to hide her emotions, Dakura tried to change the subject. "Well, I'd just forget about him and go to school and enjoy your carefree life with your young man."

"School!" the problems with Mrs. Lavigne jumped at her. "I didn't study! I'm going to flunk out of French," Hera exclaimed with new anguish. Under her breath she whispered: "But, I'd happily trade any school problem… to block out that dream!" Hera knew she was hiding from her fears, but this news was just too terrible. "I have to talk to Zeke," she mumbled.

"I'm sure you're overreacting. You'll do fine in French class," Dakura tried to comfort. "I'm going to leave now to let you change and shower. I'll drive you to school when you're ready."

Hera stood and walked to the floor length mirror and studied her matted flat hair and her smudged lipstick and mascara. She saw a small stain on her blouse and shook her head in disgust. Taking a quick glance at the door, careful to hide the use of her powers, strictly forbidden by her mother, she raised her hand and ran it from her head down to her toes. The hair and makeup were immediately fixed and she stood in her school uniform: freshly pressed navy skirt and white blouse, neutral hose, and simple black flats. She took a last look at her reflection, and ran across her room and grabbed her cellular phone off the charger on the desk. She hit '1' on the speed dial and listened impatiently for Zeke to answer.

"Hello," Zeke groggily spoke into his cell phone.

Hera, speaking into the phone pleaded with Zeke: "You've got to save me!"

"Save you?" Zeke exclaimed, as he shot up off his bed dressed in only red boxer shorts. "Who's after you? How many? I'll get Gael and the Twins and we'll be there. Do I have time for the SUV, or should I apperate?" he inquired. His strongly muscled body was tense but his mind was under total control. He was ready to pull out all the stops, direct all his forces to save the one he loved.

"No," she explained, embarrassed that she had frightened him. "No, not from invaders, I need your help in school," she clarified. Hera silently mused: I'll figure out how to tell him about the dream later.

"School?" he weakly replied, as he slumped down on his bed. He closed his eyes and felt his heart racing.

"Can you pick me up? I'll explain," she asked.

"Well, sure. It'll take me a few minutes to get Alex and Alan ready, and…"

"Leave them," she interrupted. "Blanca or one of the Protectors can drive them to school. I need you… now," she forcefully commanded.

Rachael looked out the center glass insert in her cheap aluminum door. Standing there, looking like a beautiful angel, Alex stared in and pressed the doorbell again. She looked through the glass into his amazing blue eyes. She studied his strong jaw, sensual lips, and mop of spiky blond hair and sighed. She thought: 'Rae' you do this just right, and you've got a boyfriend that'll make the other girls drool; Julie Lipton will just die of envy. Rachael glowed with excitement as she opened the door and smiled broadly.

"This is a pleasant surprise," she smiled as she looked out for Mrs. Montanan's Honda and Hera, but saw neither. Immediately her smile faded, replaced with concern. "Where's Hera? Is she okay?" she asked, her voice beginning to tremble.

"Hera's fine. She went to an early breakfast with Zeke, and she asked that we pick you up for school," Alex said, and then pointed to Cede and his white Impala pulled up behind her father's fading maroon 2002 Ford Taurus. She looked up and saw Alan sitting in the front seat beside the Royal Protector. Alan waved impatiently, indicating they should hurry up. Rachael picked up her backpack sitting by the door, grabbed Alex's hand happily, and ran with him towards the car. She opened the rear door and nearly dragged Alex in on top of her.

Cede backed up out of the gravel driveway of the modest, single-car-garage white-stucco bungalow, and then pulled forward toward the school.

Rachael tried to snuggle in close to Alex, but he moved away trying to maintain a gentlemanly gap between their bodies. Rachael however did not notice the move, as she whispered into his ear. "Why don't you come over after school? My dad works until ten and we'll have the house to ourselves. We could watch a movie, or" as she moved closer, batted her eyes, and gripped his hand in a way that was unambiguous, "something else."

Alex, physically mature, but still inexperienced in the ways of the heart considered. "Sure. Zeke loves comedies, but Alan and I go more for the action movies. What do you have?" Then he caught the look in her eyes, and realized the 'offer' was a lot more than just a movie.

Rachael moved forward so she could turn her back to the others and look him in the eyes. "No, you don't understand," she smiled and trying to deliver her best 'come hither' smile. "I want you, not your entourage, to come over," she smiled and winked. "You're not connected to the hip or anything are you? I mean, you do go to people's houses, see movies… without them, right."

Alex looked tongue tied. "Sure, I mean… of course I do things without them," he said. But he thought, no, actually, I've never been separated from my brother for any mentionable length of time. He then gulped nervously as Rachael leaned closer until her lips were only a breath apart from his own and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her skin was velvety smooth, her red curly hair smelled pleasantly of lilacs, and her lips, when she kissed him, were soft and enticing. But, she was not Meta.

Rachael misinterpreted his reservation for inexperience, and tried again. "You're not much of a kisser, are you," she giggled softly.

"I've never kissed an earthling before," he whispered.

Rachael looked amazed. "You mean in all your years, on Earth, you never met anyone, never… kissed… anyone? And how about Taurian girls?"

Alex's mind drifted back to Antar, the Sei Mountains, and icy cold water where he skinny dipped with the tall, naked Duchess of Cano. He recalled vividly when they were moving towards shore, as the lightning struck the hillside around them, that Meta had moved close and kissed him. At first he thought he must have been struck by a flashing bolt of electricity, because his entire body tingled and he nearly levitated out of the pond.

He felt Rachael move close and kiss him again; shocking him back to the present. She was warm, alive, and here in his arms. Her kiss was fun and mildly exciting, but nothing like the mind-blowing kiss he had exchanged with the Duchess. Rachael was pleasant, but he didn't think she could be the 'one.' Unfortunately Meta was impossibly far away: he might never see her again. And he wondered what harm it could cause if he enjoyed the company of this interesting Earth girl.

"There was a girl, on Antar, her name was Meta… and… we kissed," he whispered his reply, unable to hide his grin, the unspoken infatuation clear in his eyes and smile.

Seemingly oblivious to Alex's inner turmoil, and trying to ignore his reply about Meta, the Taurian girl, and the unsettling smile on his face, she hurried on. "Maybe we could do the 'Vulcan Mind Meld' thing again? Like we did out in the desert," Rachael purred and laughed.

Before Alex could say no, Alan turned and stared into the backseat. He began to snicker as he saw Rachael hanging over his brother kissing him. Alex was immediately embarrassed, his face glowing hot red, and he gently removed Rachael's arms from his neck so she was fully in the seat beside him. He bent and whispered, "Let's talk about it later, when we can have a little more privacy." Rachael beamed and took Alex's hand in hers and sat back contented.

Hera and Zeke sat alone in the Explorer, parked far from the other cars in the Denny's parking lot. Zeke hugged his beautiful girlfriend. Her neat clothing and perfect makeup said everything was fine, but her shuddering breath, the desperation and intensity of the hug she wrapped him in said she was definitely not. He had asked, but she had been silent, wanting only to be held. Now, as if making a decision, gathering her courage, she released him and moved back. He looked into her sad eyes as she wiped away a tear.

"What is it? Tell me what's bothering you. Let me help," Zeke asked in a soft loving voice.

Hera had struggled, but decided she could not tell him. She could not bear to see the look of disgust in his eyes when he learned that Khivar was her father. But she had called him out and had to say something. The problems with the language class seemed so insignificant now, but it was the only thing she could think of to explain her distress.

"I'm going to flunk out of French," she blurted. "You must save me," she added, trying to fit her request with the call she had made that morning.

"Save you?" he questioned. "What can I do?" Zeke asked.

Hera had no idea, but searched desperately for anything that sounded at least slightly plausible. "You know French, right? You said you had learned all the Earth languages before you left."

"Yes, I know French. Do you want me to sneak in and take your test?" he asked in surprise.

"No. But, couldn't you transfer it… the knowledge… to me," she inquired, the request suddenly sounding less crazy and maybe a solution to the real, if insignificant problem.

"I suppose. I've never tried it, but if it's that important to you I'm willing to give it a try," he offered. Hera nodded, and for the first time since he picked her up at her house, when she ran out with her mother calling for her to stop, he saw the barest glimpse of a smile. Zeke turned to Hera, smiled, and then placed each of his hands gently on her temples. His eyes took on a serious expression as he stared down at her, gave her a quick kiss, smiled, and then closed his eyes.

Hera felt a hot glow, like sitting at the pool in the summer staring up in the blazing southwestern sky at midday. French words, infinities, predicates, and irregular verbs began to flow into her like a fire hose of black water that nearly battered her into the car's seat. She raised her hands and urgently clamped around Zeke's, mentally telling him to slow the transmission. He somehow recognized her plea and the flow suddenly slowed to a more manageable rate. But with this slower rate the sparkling and cracking of static electricity that surrounded the mental pipeline transferring the knowledge to her began to change too and flashes of red, yellow and blue intruded in on the data flow. Glimpses of Zeke's thoughts and memories were now floating on the periphery of the stream of French flying at her.

Flash. She could see an unfamiliar scene. Zeke was alone in the desert. A giant spire rose up and towered over a brilliant tableau of copper, pink and gold rocks and giant boulders. "No!" she almost cried out, Zeke was not alone. Her heart nearly stopped as she saw Zeke kissing Ultra. He pulled back and Ultra buried her head in his chest pulling him tight as she sighed with pleasure. Hera looked close and could see the expression on Zeke's face was one of pleasure, confusion, and thankfully an element of guilt.

Flash. Zeke was in the mountains helping Ultra up into a cave. Hera sucked in a ragged breathe as she saw Zeke smiling up at her with love and adoration in his eyes. She could feel the water drenching them from the unrelenting downpour that plummeted down from the storm raging above them. Then suddenly he slipped and was sliding on his back down the rain-washed, rocky trail. His body collided with a sharp outcrop of stone that ripped open his leg.

Hera pulled back in terror and could feel the agony as if her own leg were ripped apart. She could feel him grab at his leg and groan as the blood spurted up with each heartbeat. She looked close and could see the agony in his eyes and hear him scream out 'Hera!' She couldn't believe she was smiling in this scene of pain and blood, but hearing him call her name and not Ultra's was the sweetest sound she had ever heard.

Flash. Zeke and all his extended family and hundreds other sat watching spellbound as a dove passes through the open windows at the top of a basilica. It had a large ampoule in its beak. The bird's flight was captured in the rays from Taur as it hovered in front of a petite woman dressed in long gown of sea-foam green, silk velvet. Hera instinctually knew that this woman, who looked like an older version of Mr. Parker's daughter, Liz, was the high Priestess and Seer, Amíle. The Seer smiled and the bird dropped the ampoule of holy oil into her outstretched hand. The dove then flew up and out into the morning sky. The Seer's expression turned solemn as she moved to Zeke's father, Max, and his wife, who Zeke always referred to as Mother Liz, to deliver the holy liturgy. As their heads were anointed with holy oil, Hera saw Ultra.

"Why, am I not surprised," Hera muttered as she began to see a sickening pattern in Zeke's subconscious thoughts.

The Princess, her rival for Zeke's affections was dressed in a diaphanous gown of purple silk. Hera noted with keen interest that she stared at Zeke with longing. Suddenly Ultra was in front of Zeke on her knees, and tears were falling from her eyes as she took his hand in hers.

"I don't know how to let you go. A glowing ember burns hot and slow, deep within my soul when I am separated from you. I'm shaken by the violence of existing for only you," Ultra whispered. The Princess pulled his hand to her, caressed it for a moment, and then kissed him goodbye.

Hera smiled with a sense of overwhelming satisfaction. "She's letting him go! He is mine!" Hera wanted to shout. She watched as Ultra turned and walked from the basilica. She knew that Princess Ultra loved Zeke, and could feel for her and her pain.

But, as the young Princess started to run, her back to Zeke and the others, Hera could just make out a final soft reframe, a whisper that chilled Hera's heart: "Zeke is the only one I will ever love, could ever love. I cannot and will not let him go."

Flash. Hera looked around in confusion: elated one moment, shaken the next. But, she knew she was no longer on Antar, but rather on the darkened front porch of her own house. She looked around in panic. The flow of information and feelings had reversed directions and now she knew her memories were being projecting into Zeke's mind.

She saw herself: happily sitting on Johnny's lap on the porch swing. Her arms were wrapped around his neck and she was kissing him with uninhibited passion. Young Johnny kissed back with equal enthusiasm and ran his fingers through her hair. She knew, feeling in the tension in Zeke's hand on her temples, that he too could feel her emotions, the youthful excitement, that were flooding her senses as she vividly recalled that night.

Zeke jerked his hands away as if stung by an electric shock, and stared, open mouthed at her. She knew Zeke had not been faithful. But, he had told her everything, or at least almost everything that had happened: his infatuation, his realization that Hera was the one, and breakup with Ultra.

But Hera had not been as honest. When hearing about his indiscretions, she had prudishly proclaimed herself chaste: that she had waited faithfully, alone, for his return. She had made Zeke feel guilty as she outlined her acts of undying love and devotion. Naturally she had stupidly failed to mention her dalliance, her insignificant summer romance with Johnny. She looked in Zeke's eyes in fear, hating to see the disillusionment and the distrust that he projected. The tears began to flow, as Hera feared her deception would forever dog her relationship with the man of her dreams.

"Wait, I can explain," she exclaimed, as Zeke started the Explorer and turned it towards the high school. He stared straight ahead, and refused to respond to her pleas or to listen to her explanation. He drove silently until he parked the SUV in the student lot at the school. He started to open his door, and then turned to her with a look of pained disillusionment, "Vous avez menti à moi." He exited, slammed the door, and stalked alone towards the school.

"No, I didn't lie to you," she yelled. "I… just didn't tell you everything," she exclaimed in a soft defeated voice to his retreating figure.

Zeke strode into school, ignoring the security cameras and the other students. He entered as if in a daze and turned towards his locker.

Benny and Goylzk, wearing their blue and gold letterman's jackets, were undeterred from their disastrous attack on the Twins. They were pumped with excitement for the upcoming football battle and looking for someone to terrorize. Their adrenalin roaring, they struck out at unsuspecting kids as they pushed their way through the hall, knocking kids to the floor and spilling piles of books. As they rounded the corner, they saw Zeke fidgeting with his lock. Seeing the new kid, they boldly strode up and rammed the unsuspecting Prince hard against the locker.

"Hey, lookout where you're going," Benny yelled in mock outrage.

"Yeah, watch out loser," Goylzk taunted as he moved up to the shorter boy full of menace and bluster. Kids began shouting 'fight, fight' and quickly the corridor filled with curious onlookers. Hera sensing danger rushed forward and pushed her way through. She saw Zeke trying to maintain his low profile and placate the football jocks. He was under control until Johnny entered the fray.

"Hey butthead, get out of our way," Johnny yelled. Hera forced her way to the front pushing the Goth girl, Chevette, wearing a black studded bracelet, dark eye shadow, and purple-black lipstick, to the side and was about to say something when Johnny saw her. He wrapped a clumsy arm around her waist and pulled her to him. "And keep your hands off my girl," he added as he tried to steal a kiss from the squirming and kicking Hera.

Zeke, as if released from a spell, took one blinding step forward and hit Johnny in the stomach. As the obnoxious former boyfriend kneeled over in pain, Zeke gently released Hera from his grip.

The two linesmen rushed to the aid of their football brethren. Zeke spun and elbowed Goylzk in the chin then dropkicked Benny in the crotch – lifting him nearly a foot in the air until he fell with a crash into the lockers. Zeke hugged Hera to him and whispered, "I was an idiot this morning, forgive me. I love you. I trust you. Just don't keep anything like that from me again, okay?" He kissed her quickly and set her down gently. She stared back as a broad smile soon replaced her look of amazement.

Zeke whirled and scooped Benny and Goylzk up with one hand and hauled Johnny to his feet with the other. "Don't mess with me again or my cousins, or next time I won't be so polite," he stressed as he looked the two stunned linesmen in the face.

Zeke turned to Johnny with distaste, "and you," he emphasized as he hauled Johnny up so his feet dangled three inches off the floor and then lowered him to eye level, "Touch her again and the only person you'll be touching will be the nurses in intensive care," he threatened.

"Now get out of here before Principal Chavez kicks you off the team for being idiots," he commanded as he tossed them forward. The boys stumbled and nearly fell, but regained their balance. They looked back at Zeke with a mixture of embarrassment, fear, and begrudging respect. They balled their fists wanting to respond, but quickly scurried down the hallway as they heard the kids squawking that the Principal and the guards were approaching.

The kids began to applaud, and were cheering when Principal Chavez pulled up. He looked at Zeke with distrust, but Zeke simply wrapped an arm around Hera's waist. He looked at the Principal, smiled, and scrunched his shoulder in 'I have no idea' manner. Then before Chavez could question him, he and Hera moved off towards their homerooms.

Mrs. Montanan sat on the swing on her front porch and took another long swallow of m'alwe. But the sweet, intoxicating liquor was not working. It could not dull the agonizing pain that racked her body. She recalled awaking to a beautiful sunny day, unsuspecting of the terror that would unfold. She shuddered as she vividly recalled the look of hate in her precious daughter's eyes when Hera confronted her about Khivar.

"What am I to do?' she moaned. "I cannot change the past," she murmured.

She had been attracted to his total, if ruthless, power over all in his estate. She was just a lowly peasant, when Nicholas spotted her, a poor Antarvéian from the caves: uneducated, unsophisticated, and oh soooo easily swayed.

He swept her up into a life of grandeur, dressed her in the finest clothes, and gave her enough food that she was not hungry for the first time in her life. She would… and did… do anything for him.

"How was I to know that I was carrying the message to Princess Vilandra that would lead to all their deaths?" she cried. "How," she shuddered, "how could I have known?"

Then, when she had done his dirty work… and when she became pregnant, he turned on her. Khivar said he could not father a child; he had suffered an illness when he was young, and the baby could not be his. Dakura was not sure; the baby could have been his, so she did what she had to do to protect her baby: she said it could only be his.

But he rejected her, and interpreted her pregnancy as an attempt to spite him. Then, as if she were nothing, he cast her and her unborn baby out like they were stray dogs.

He said they were nothing to him; he would never take a wife, and he could have no child. Now that he had assumed the throne, they were not suitable, and he sent her to the surface, to the caves to starve and die.

"And, I would have without the help of the Seer," she recalled as she shook her head.

She remembered that fateful morning, so sick her whole body ached from the pain. Then Amíle swept down like an angel and took them to her Temple in the Sei Mountains. She nurtured Dakura and the baby; oh she so loved the little girl. Amíle was the one to suggest the name Heraetta. She had done so much for them, it was the least she could do.

When Khivar learned that they had not perished, he was not happy, but rather became incensed: he assigned his troops to search and destroy them. Without the help of the Seer, they both would have perished in an agonizing demise. But, Amíle faked their death, and then arranged passage on the transport ship under assumed names.

She thought: He must somehow have discovered that Hera, his only heir, survived. Why can't he leave us alone and in peace!? she moaned and took another long drink of the intoxicating liquid.

She stood unsteadily, and smashed the flask on the porch step, then swayed as she reentered the house. Dakura strode through the door, holding onto the table and chairs as she made her way into her bedroom. She summoned her powers, and the wall hiding the horrid portrait dissolved. She stared at the painting, the eyes boring into her soul. She turned away, and vividly recalled why she had not gazed on his hideous portrait in years. She raised her hand and the frame fell to the linoleum floor and then flashed in a burst of flame. Dakura sat on her bed and watched as the fire engulfed the portrait and consumed the frame. She watched as the canvas curled, charred, and finally burned down into a pile of ash.

"I must tell Hera everything," she cried. "I must beg for her forgiveness, and warn her…" but she spoke no more as she fell back on her bed in m'alwe-induced slumber.

The bright afternoon sun baked the three-story building located on Russell Highway, just across the tracks, on the outskirts of town. Mr. Tempus exited his dusty 2002 Ford Taurus and stared up at the sign. 'Satsuma Electronics' was spelled out in new three-foot high letters. However, he could clearly see the name of the former company: Whitman Industries, the brick behind the former letters were less sun faded, and he smiled as he recalled his tall and slightly awkward friend and the former owner, Lars Whitman.

Mr. Tempus moved towards the office to clock in. His black boots shown, complementing the dark gray neatly pressed pants, light gray, short-sleeve shirt and black tie. His service revolver was securely snapped in the holster hanging from his black guard belt. He entered the office, and friendly calls of 'Jackson' rang out from the office staff and other security guards.

Jim Valenti, serving 'temp' duty at the factory looked up and smiled when he saw his old friend. He looked at the man, ten years his junior, of whom he was extremely fond. Jackson Tempus was an awkward, good-natured person, whose apologetic shrugs, and kind, sly smile brought a smile to Jim's lips. Jim recalled Jackson was extremely shy around strangers. He had only a few friends, and never so much as looked at another woman since his wife, Grace turned up missing all those years ago. His gentleness was visible in the shape of his big head, his meaty hands, and his soft pale-blue eyes. Jim strode forward and offered his hand.

"Jackson Tempus, you are a sight for sore eyes. How have you been?" Jim enthusiastically asked.

"Well, Sheriff," the big man smiled, "I've been pretty good, all things considered," he replied in a slow western drawl.

Jim moved up and softly corrected the guard, "You know: I'm not the Sheriff anymore."

"You'll always be Sheriff Valenti to me, Jim… and my good friend. You helped me out when Grace 'left' and Rachael and I will always be thankful for your help." Jackson punched his timecard at exactly 1400 as Jim clocked out.

"You never heard anything more about her, did you?" Jim asked in a sympathetic manner.

Jackson pulled Jim aside. "You in a hurry, Jim? Gotta minute to talk?"

"Of course," Jim replied as Jackson led him into the factory and began his inspection rounds.

"Somethin' been botherin me, something I shoulda told you way back then when you werea leading the investigation into her disappearance," he said in a soft confessional tone. "You know Grace's mom claimed she was 'abducted,' " Jackson raised his eyes and looked up at the factory's ceiling so he was clear who had done the abducting.

"I recall. My dad, the Sheriff back in 1947, was sure it was real," Jim confided. "He tended to believe every disappearance was alien related, and investigated her disappearance for months, but he could never find anything to substantiate her claims."

Jackson nodded. "We all thought she was bonkers, especially Grace. She was mortified anyone would connect her to her crazy mom," he admitted. "Well, 'bout a week before she disappeared, Grace came to me one morning - that was back when I was working the graveyard shift - and she was terrified. She said she had been abducted herself. She said they took her up in a silver, saucer shaped ship, and these 'creatures things,' she never got a very good look, did stuff to her."

Jim looked at his friend in astonishment. "Jackson, you never said a word!"

"Well, I thought she was going bonkers like her old mom. The morning she left, she begged me to stay, that she just knew they were coming for her again," he explained. "You know, I needed the job, and I told her she'd be fine: to call me if she got scared. Well, she never called and I thought everything was okay. But, when I got home that morning, Rachael was all alone and terrified. We searched everywhere we could think, and finally called you," he confessed. "I shoulda told you, I know, but…," he looked embarrassed and sad at the same time.

"And, you and Rachael have been alone all these years," Jim sympathized.

Jackson turned to Jim with a broad smile, "My little girl… she's been wonderful. I'm not much of a parent: she nearly had to raise herself. You know, with me working the second shift, I get home and she's in bed, and I get up and she's off to school. I tell you that Mrs. Montanan has been a life saver," he smiled and nodded his head in appreciation.

"Mrs. Montanan?" Jim replied.

"Our neighbor, Dakura," he answered with a smile. "She moved here a few years ago: has a daughter, Hera, about the same age. Rachael was never much of a student, but something about Hera seemed to rub off, and she just took to learn'n like a duck to water, and been doing just fine ever since."

Jim smiled, "Well, that's great Jackson." He started to move back to the office to head home when he had a thought. "Tell me, you must have known the former owner, Lars Whitman, right?" Jim asked.

"Sure, me and Lars go way back. He hired me straight out of Roswell High. He was a gentleman and a scholar. Sometimes he acted like a little kid; he just loved playing with all the electronic gizmos with his little boy, Alex. Lars grew his business from a shop in his garage to this factory. Had over 50 men working at its heyday," Jackson reported proudly.

Jim leaned close and lowered his voice, "So, Lars must have made a bundle when he sold the company?"

Jackson looked at him in surprise. "No, he took a beating!" he stated, surprised Jim didn't know. "He came to me one morning, and said he hada leave. He gotta call from a guy out West; told Lars he could provide information about his boy."

"Lars told me he had to raise all the cash he could, quick like," Jackson explained. "He put his house and the factory on the block and took the first offer he got. He coulda doubled his take if he'd a listened to me and took his time. But, he said he needed the cash right away. So, one day the Koreans were looking around and the next thing you know Lars was gone, and suddenly we got a new owner."

"Lars never told me that. He just said Roswell held too many sad memories and he was moving to Fresno. Then Satsuma took over, and I was let go," Jim added in a note of irritation. "He took care of me though; gave me a good severance package," Jim commented. Suddenly, Jackson's words nearly jumped at him. He turned and stared with wide unbelieving eyes. "Did you say Lars' son, Alex, called him? And that is why he needed the money?!"

Jackson shook his head. "No, not Alex himself, some guy who said he'd sell him the information." He looked up, trying to remember the details. "Guy had a funny name: Sonora, Sedona, Nasedo… something like that," he commented, unsure why that would be significant.

"You mean, three years after Alex turned up missing, Lars got a call out of nowhere with a guy offering to sell him information about his son?" Jim nearly shouted.

"Yep. Lars said he'd do anything to find Alex and the other kids, and had to round up all the money he could. Immediate like," the guard said. "But, he didn't go to Fresno, he went to LA: that's where the fella said to meet him."

Jim started to rush to the door, then ran back and shook Jackson's hand in excitement, and then ran for his car. He slipped in behind the seat, started the engine and pulled out his cell phone to dial Amy.

"Amy, this is Jim. I found out something about the boys!" he exclaimed in excitement.

"Jim," Amy spat back in irritation. "I can't believe you. Just because I say the Twins remind me of Maria, you get all bent out of shape. It's like you're jealous or something. Now, you are investigating my grandch… those… those boys."

"No, it's not that," he interrupted.

"Listen, until you can learn to treat my boys with respect, just leave us alone!" she exclaimed as she slammed the phone down.

Jim stared at his cell phone in disbelief.

The class sat quietly in Mrs. Lavigne's French IV class. Hera tried to suppress a smile as she studied the questions, and circled each correct multiple choice answer. Carefully following Zeke's advice, she selected the wrong answer to questions 7 and 20. He had advised that too quick a grasp of the language was suspicious. But, she was unable to pass up the extra credit question and scribbled in her response in a clear steady hand. Hera stopped, reread her answer, then went back and changed a few of the words, and added misplaced accent marks, to maintain her deception.

She silently considered: I'm getting pretty good at this deception thing. Then, with 20 minutes left in the period, she let her mind wonder. She thought to herself: Zeke forgave me, but what do I do now? He told me he trusted me, to just be honest – but, would he change his mind if I 'told' him the truth, she silently debated as she stared out the window lost in her daydream.

Mrs. Lavigne looked at the clock and could see that only five minutes remained before the bell would ring for the last period of the day. She stood and walked quietly around the class, checked for cheaters, and observed the body language of her students. After teaching for nearly 20 years she could accurately judge who 'got it' and who was helplessly over their heads by a quick glance at their test-taking posture.

Johnny Jones looked tense, and she could tell he was still on question 7 and would never finish in time.

Chevette Washington stared out the window. She slipped in behind the Goth girl and could see she had marked an 'A' for all the questions and had left the extra credit section blank.

Her gaze fell on Hera; the girl looked lost in thought, and her expression was grim. Mrs. Lavigne moved in so she could peek at her test, and was surprised to see all the answers circled and a long description neatly penned in at the bottom of the page. The bell rang, and the students groaned. They stood up, packed their book bags, and moved to the teacher's desk dropping their competed tests in a narrow wooden tray on the front of the gray-metal desk.

"Mme. Montanan, attendez une minute," Mrs. Lavigne requested. The other kids looked back in curiosity wondering why the teacher wanted to speak to Hera, but soon lost interest as they moved out into the hallway and then on to their lockers.

"I said I'd make my decision on re-assigning you based on your test results," she explained. "Allons voir," she said as she rifled through the stack and extracted Hera's paper. Pulling a red pen from her drawer, she picked up the paper and studied it. She compared the circled answers to her answer key and quickly checked off the correct answers.

"17 de 20, très respectable," she explained and was surprised to see her student's response. Hera began to argue and then went silent. Next the teacher read the extra credit paragraph. She studied it closely, and could almost see where it had been changed, as if purposely altered to add errors.

That makes no sense; it must be getting late, she thought as she gazed up to Hera's now distracted face.

"Very nice work young lady, welcome to French IV," she said as she smiled and handed the paper back to her student marked with a large red 'B.' The teacher watched for the reaction, but Hera accepted the grade as if it was exactly what she had engineered.

"Thank you… I mean, Merci, Mme Lavigne," Hera replied politely, gave her teacher a small smile, turned, and walked out of the classroom deep in thought.

Mrs. Lavigne laughed to herself: teenagers!

Alex and Rachael exited Zeke's white Ford Explorer and walked towards her door. Alan followed along behind them. When Rachael pulled out her key, she looked at the other Twin in surprise: "Ahhh, Alan… I invited Alex over…," she looked slightly embarrassed for Alan.

But he did not appear embarrassed at all. "Look, cut me some slack," he requested. "Hera's been giving me the nudge ever since I got in the car. She wants to say something to Zeke, and she can't with me sitting next to her. Let me come in for a couple of minutes, okay."

Rachael looked back and, as Alan had predicted, her best friend was sitting close to Zeke deep in conversation. "Sure, come on around back; we can sit on the picnic table," she agreed.

Hera looked up into Zeke's eyes and asked again. "Can I stay at your place?"

Zeke took her hand and stared deeply into her eyes. "Is it about this morning, in the car? Look, I was a jerk the way I reacted. I'm sorry. I apologize," he explained. "We can spend all our waking hours together, but," he laughed, "I don't think you mom would approve of sleepovers at your age."

"No," she almost laughed. "It's not that; although I appreciate your apology. No… well…" she struggled trying to figure out what she should tell him. "I just don't want to go home. My mom and I… we…we had this terrible fight and I just don't want to ever see her again."

Zeke looked at her in shock. "Do you know what you're saying? I'd give anything to see my mom…"

Hera interrupted "but you said you 'call' her all the time," she protested.

"It's not the same, communicating telepathically. I'm glad to know mom is okay, and getting on at Arizona State, but I miss her hugs, the way she knows when I'm down, joking with me…," he signed.

"And dad," he shook his shoulders. "Communicating across the galaxies is very difficult. The Twins and I call every week. Sometimes we can't get through, and even when we do it's like seeing him and Mother Liz, Michael and Maria, and the others, as though through a veil. I can see them, know they are there but, it's very impersonal… It's almost impossible to convey emotions," he explained.

"Look, come back to our place," Zeke offered. "Give her a call and let her know you're staying for dinner. We'll play some pool, or watch a movie and then we can have dinner. You'll feel better; then go home and make up," he advised. Hera looked uncertain, but nodded as Alan returned to the car.

Alex stood beside Rachael and watched Zeke, as the young Prince backed the SUV out of Rachael's gravel driveway. He could see Zeke talking quietly to Hera, and Alan smiling out the passenger window, waving with mock happiness but really looking a little lost as they pulled away.

Alex felt Rachael grasp his hand, and pull him towards the front porch. She opened the lock on the door and swung it open wide. A large red tabby cat came running to the door, and Rachael bent down allowing the cat to jump into her arms.

"You remember my little kitty, she showed up the same day you and Alan visited with Hera a couple of weeks ago," she reminded him. "She comes around, and then she's gone, almost like magic," she laughed. "I named her Sabrina, you know," she smiled, "after the teenage witch."

Alex recalled the cat: long red hair, like her owner he laughed, red bushy tail and a manner of complete indifference. The cat expected to be the center of attention and always made an entrance, projecting an air of indifference that made it clear that it should be adored from a distance, and only upon her terms. In contrast to the contempt she projected to the others, she had, even on that first day, eerily observed his and Alan's every move, never letting them out of sight of her startling blue eyes.

Rachael carried the cat down the steps to the 'rec' room in the basement and set the cat on the tiled floor. It curled once around her legs then hopped effortlessly up on the seat of the blue Lazy Boy rocker, up to the top of the chair, and then along the ledge as if she owned the place. It turned, settled its feet under itself, lowered its head, and stared unblinking at Alex.

"You want something to drink? I've got Mountain Dew and Dr. Pepper, and," she rummaged around in the small refrigerator, "and a bottled water," she asked.

"I'll take the water," Alex nervously responded. The empty house, being alone with Rachael, and the crazy cat all made him uneasy.

"So," she smiled as she handed him the bottle of Aqua Springs "what would you like to do?" she asked in an innocent tone that belied the coy look in her eyes.

Alex felt awkward and tongue tied, as she took his hand and pulled him gently to the couch. He had just thought of something to say when she slid onto his lap and kissed him.

Alex stuttered, "mo…movie."

"You like action as I recall," she laughed and kissed him again, this time exploring with her tongue.

Alex was only a male and for several seconds responded to her aggressive advance, but then as if he suddenly felt Meta staring at him from behind the cat's eyes, he nearly jumped, and set Rachael on the seat next to him. "I thought we were going to watch a movie," he squeaked. "Do you have 'Braveheart'?"

"Oh, I forgot, the DVD's out."

She moved in close again, and he gently held her at bay. "How about some music," he suggested, now at least partially under control.

Rachael considered, laughed and got up. She went to the CD rack and picked out an album, cracked open the crystal case and slipped the shiny disc into the slot and raised her hand. "Let's dance."

"I don't know how," he truthfully replied.

"Well, if you learn to dance as fast as you learned to kiss, this should be very interesting. Let me show you the basic moves and we'll see what happens," she laughed. He stood and awkwardly, tentatively walked to her. Alex looked at the cat. Sabrina now stood, her back arched, her hair puffed to an enormous size as if she might jump down and attack or scratch him, and then she hissed. Rachael plucked the cat from the ledge, petted it soothingly, opened the door to the laundry room, and gently tossed the cat in before quickly closing the door.

The cat manically scratched at the door, but Rachael ignored her, and held out her arms for Alex who moved to her. She placed his two hands on the small of her back. She clicked the remote and 'I Had the Time of My Life' softly issued out of the speakers.

Now I've had the time of my life
No I never felt like this before

She placed her arms around his neck and they slowly moved to the music. She led him for a few more moves and then he picked up the pattern.

Yes I swear it's the truth
and I owe it all to you

She rested her head on his shoulders and they danced to the slow music. Then she looked up at him with her big pale-blue eyes and he lowered his head and kissed her.

'Cause I've had the time of my life
and I owe it all to you.

They continued to kiss until the song ended.

She pulled him back to the couch and reassumed her position on his lap. "Can we do the mind-meld thing again?" she purred. "I've never felt anything quite like that before. My entire body tingled for the next two days, and I couldn't stop thinking about you and that feeling." She raised his hands to her temples as if to help him.

Alex lowered his hands, and shook his head. "No, Zeke got really pissed when he leaned I did that. He said no more."

Rachael looked momentarily disappointed, and then smiled as she changed tact. "And do you do everything your precious cousin asks? Come on, we could go on a little joy ride and he'd never know," she seductively pleaded and tried to kiss him again.

"No! You don't understand. He's not just my cousin; he's the Prince, the heir to the throne," he tried to explain. "It is my sworn duty to obey and protect him at all times. I like you Rachael, you know it. But, I am a Knight of Antar first and foremost. Don't ever place yourself between me and my duty." He lifted her off his lap and stood up.

Rachael looked at the young man and saw him as if for the first time. He was not just another boy to manipulate with flattery, a kiss, or the promise of something more, but a man masquerading in the body of a boy. She looked at him for several seconds, not saying a word. She walked slowly to him, took his hand and kissed the palm.

"I'm sorry; I should never have asked. I could feel your resistance, but I didn't let up," she apologized. "But," she smiled up into his eyes "it was such a thrill," she laughed. Alex looked away with a small forlorn smile, and started for the stairs.

He had taken only two steps when she asked "There is more to it, isn't there? It's not just disappointing Zeke, there is something else."

Alex turned and looked at her and nodded slowly. "Alan, Zeke and I 'called' home," he laughed without mirth, "as soon as we arrived back on Earth. Every Sunday we join our powers and reach out to the King and report. We speak to our father and mother."

"And…" Rachael prompted.

"And, in the desert, out where the Antarian Compound was located before the shift, where we 'joined,' I saw my father and my mother. My mom was holding my little brother Jacob. But, he was not born when I showed you our planet that day. I could not have known I had a brother or his name," he shuttered. "I saw not to the past, or to even to the present, but into the future. No man should see into the future, it is dangerous and can only lead to pain and grief," he slowly, sadly explained.

Rachael moved to him and hugged Alex, giving only comfort without any ulterior motive. "You hungry?" she asked, trying to lighten the moment.

"Starved," he laughed. "What have you got?"

Rachael grabbed his hand and they quickly moved up the stairs and into the kitchen. She opened the refrigerator door and the two stared in at the nearly empty compartment filled with only cans of pop and a six-pack of Bud Light. She swung open the freezer and they saw an assortment of frozen TV dinners.

"Is that all you eat? TV dinners?" he asked.

"My mom used to cook. She was a great cook," she smiled. But, the smile quickly faded. "She left suddenly when I was eight. Since then I've never progressed beyond sticking a frozen box into the microwave," she sadly added.

"This is no way to live. Come on, let's go to my house. You deserve a good home cooked meal," Alex announced.

"But, you said Blanca never cooks," she questioned.

"Not Blanca," he grimaced, "Gael. He's a great cook. Come on. I'll call Cede to pick us up. I'll get you a good home cooked meal, and have you back before your father gets off work."

Rachael considered. "I won't go as a charity case; I can live on TV dinners, I've done it for years. But," she interjected before he could argue, "I'll go as your friend: someone worthy of being brought home to share a meal with your family."

Alex looked into her eyes, and knew that she was letting him see beyond the mask she had erected to protect her loneliness and vulnerability. He did not hesitate, "Then, let us proceed," he moved close and kissed her, "friend."

The following day the streets of downtown Roswell were busy with foot traffic. Mr. Jefferson at the hardware store had set out tables and members of local tribes were laying out jewelry, pottery, and hand-woven rugs for sale.

A Mesaliko Reservation flatbed truck rumbled down the road in front of the Crashdown and stopping at the hardware store opposite the UFO Museum. Several young braves and squaws jumped down, carrying bags of craft items and hurried to a table designated for them.

Four 'Indians' hesitated and remained standing in the truck bed; they stared out as if searching for someone. A tall elderly man, his gray hair pulled back in a short ponytail stood with a short, plump, middle-age woman. He wore his black pants and coarse plaid work shirt with dignity, standing tall in an almost regal manner. His companion was attired in a long Mesaliko dress of black and red, but, it was curiously decorated around the neckline and sleeves with a series of small birds.

The two other 'natives,' both young women, were dressed identically in dark jeans with long sleeve tops. The shorter pulled out a large black shawl embroidered with bright purple lace. As she unfurled it, the outline of a fierce bird of prey, its menacing claws outstretched in attack, could be made out just before she pulled it tight around her shoulders. She jumped down, grabbed a rug by her feet, and moved into the crowd.

The other young woman helped down the elderly man with such an air of affection and deference, he could have been her father. In contrast, she paid barely any attention to the woman. Still, she kindly helped them both from the truck.

Together they moved directly to a short barrel-chested Navajo standing beside a large black Cadillac with Las Vegas plates. The man, rough looking with pock-marked cheeks, shifted nervously, glancing around with unease. He shot the cuffs of his long-sleeve black shirt and straightened his gold cufflinks as he fidgeted with his large gold, diamond encrusted pinky ring. He greeted the dignified man and his assistant barely paying attention to the ugly teenage girl with dark braided hair and flashing angry eyes.

"I'm Fala, Mr. Lapuccio's… representative," he smiled with a greedy grin and then led them to a dark alcove behind the UFO Museum to complete their deal.

Fala handed over an old leather satchel to the elderly Indian. "It's all in there; chips, dossiers, everything you need." The older Indian cracked the case and stared in. He looked mystified and turned to his companion and then to the daughter-like teenager. She opened the satchel, extracted a small black box, and opened it.

The older Indian woman stared over the girl's shoulder as they inspected the contents. The 'chips' looked like grains of uncooked rice, each wrapped in a small grocery-store size baggy. The girl examined each 'chip' intently. The woman extracted four spiral-bound booklets from the satchel.

Fala pointed first to the case and then the booklets: "Those are the RFID chips and those are dossiers, one for each of you," explained. He looked to the old man: "You got the… merchandise?" Fala asked as he stole a furtive look around.

The girl, still holding the baggies in her hand glanced at the booklets and turned aggressively to the courier. "Это самое лучшее, котор вы можете сделать?" she challenged.

He could not decipher the strange language, but the implication was clear enough, and he became irritated, "That is the 'A-number one' set up: top of the line, sister! It's got your birth certificates, Social Security Cards, national identification numbers, baptismal records, transcripts of all your schools, guardianship papers, a list of addresses where you were supposed to have lived, pictures of the houses and your neighbors, everything. And, just like you asked, we established an account in the Wells Fargo Bank in Vegas in the old man's name, and told them to expect a big transfer." Fala looked and saw the unconvinced look in the girl's eyes and continued.

"We burned in the fake data and the physical information, height and weight, and fingerprints from our trip to your camp last week," he explained. "You wouldn't give a cornea scan or blood samples, so we selected them from our database," he laughed. "Look, my associates have been doing this for years, ever since they came out with the chips; they're fool proof," he bragged.

The older man reluctantly handed Fala a small leather pouch; the greedy Indian entrepreneur smiled broadly, snatched it away, and poured into his palm four perfectly cut pearl-size flawless diamonds. Fala extracted a magnifying-glass eyepiece, lifted each to the sky, and studied them. He smiled and returned the stones to the pouch and carefully hid it in his breast pocket. Then he nodded, and started back to his Cadillac.

"Ожидание!" the girl commanded. Fala glanced back but did not slow, instead he continued even more rapidly towards his car. Suddenly the girl's hand reached out and grabbed the silver and turquoise string tie around Fala's neck and pulled it tight. His hand shot to his throat as he struggled. He tried to pry off her hand as his face rapidly shifted from pink, to red, and then to a sickening purple. He clawed and squirmed, but her grip was like iron.

She released her grip and flung him to the ground as if he was a twig, then stepped forward and planted a distinctly non-Indian high-heeled boot on his chest. She bent and hissed: "Дайте нам реальные обломоки," and then switched to English. "Give us the real chips!" She pressed her heel in an aggressive manner nearly collapsing his lungs, forcing out his breath, and leaving Fala helpless. "Or I'll squash you like the low-life vermin you are and take them."

Fala tried to smile making placating motions with his hands. She released the pressure and, as he drew in long ragged breaths, he moved his right hand, slowly, carefully to inside his jacket and extracted a thin black case.

The rough teenager swept it up and cracked the expensive, hard shell case and studied four individually labeled, bubble wrapped RFID chips labeled: man, woman, girl 1, and girl 2. Each was small and gold plated, with engraved instructions along the edge. A tiny antenna extended from each end.

"I had to give it a try! Do you know how much those are going for on the black market? I can get five-thousand dollars each in Tijuana."

The teenager stomped down her heel, and he squirmed in new agony. "Where is the cash? You were so greedy to escape you forgot the other half of our deal. $100,000 cash: tens and twenties in used bills - for the second bag of diamonds."

He squawked out in a ragged breath, "In the trunk." The teenager raised her hand and the truck of the Cadillac popped open. Her father moved to the cavernous, red carpeted enclosure and pulled up a new, black leather brief case. He popped the gold latches, riffled through stack after stack of used bills, and then nodded to his daughter. She removed her heel and released the courier, as the older man extracted a second leather pouch and threw it at the feet of the Navajo with disdain.

Fala squirmed away and tore open the pouch, studying the ten small stones he poured into his hand. "They better be legit! Remember, we know who you are and where to find you. My associates don't take kindly to being swindled. I'll be sending these to Mr. Lapuccio. Unless you're looking for a broken leg they better be real."

"Duccino examined the sample you provided as an introduction," Fala explained. "If these are as pure, he agreed to buy everything you can supply." He smiled, his confidence rebounding as he reassumed control. "You give me a hundred of those beauties right now, and I make sure a cool million is transferred into your account," he promised.

"Pardon us if we don't trust you Fala," the teenager barked. "I assume you have connections in Las Vegas?" she asked, and he rapidly nodded. "We'll check into the Bellagio next Thursday, Presidential suite – make us a reservation," she commanded.

"My father is going to pull the two million-dollar slot in the lobby at precisely 8 PM. He's going to be very lucky. After you take your cut, and pay the taxes, you can transfer the million-dollar balance into our account. We'll leave another pouch on the dressing table in the morning as soon as we confirm the transfer."

He began to complain, but stopped short as the teenager turned and took one threatening step in his direction. "Okay, okay. Thursday. Bellagio," he nodded. "But, what if the big Bellagio slot is only up to a million or so?" he questioned, still searching for an edge.

"One million, transferred to our new account at Wells Fargo on Wayne Newton Boulevard first thing Friday morning - anything less and you'll be sorry, Fala," she warned.

He tried to stare back with bluster, trying to show that no teenager was going to intimidate him. But his courage crumbled as she delivered a final heart-stopping stare.

"Remember," she delivered a raw guttural growl that filled him with terror "I know who you are and where to find you."

Hera decked out in her aqua-green waitress outfit, opened the door to the busy patio in front of the Crashdown and carried out a tray of Saturn Rings, two Alien Blasts, and three Blood-of-the-Alien Smoothies. She sat the tray on a small table near the sidewalk where her friends sat admiring the beautiful November day and the Indians with their wares. Zeke stretched up and kissed Hera, making the two silver balls on her shiny alien-theme tiara bobble crazily.

Alan used the tongs and prepared a plate for Sara, and Alex followed, serving up some for him and Rachael. The kids dug into their onion rings hungrily, and laughed.

Zeke pulled out a chair for Hera; she sat down but indicated she could only stay a minute. She took two of the small ceramic plates, and served her and Zeke a helping of the Crashdown's greasy fried specialty. Zeke leaned in to kiss her, but instead extended his hand under the table and tickled Hera in the ribs; she responded with a giggle and moved quickly out of his reach.

At this lighthearted moment, Zeke and the others were suddenly interrupted by the appearance of one of the young Indian women from the truck. She peered in at them from the sidewalk. Although Zeke had seen hundreds of Native Americans, this woman was somehow different: more like a gypsy than a Mesaliko, Navajo or a Hopi. She was dark skinned and sharp featured, dressed in a long, brightly colored shawl, with shiny black hair raggedly cut and pulled back from penetrating dark eyes. A series of gold bracelets fell around her delicate wrist, and a gold ruby-encrusted ring was visible on her first finger. She looked about sixteen, but it was impossible to read age on her thin olive-complexioned, unpleasant face.

In her arms she carried a small, intricately woven rug of a large bird with outstretched claws. It was woven in purple wool on a white background, and she apparently wanted them to buy it. The Indian thrust the rug at Zeke, and then issued a shrill chant that he didn't immediately recognize; the language so unexpected. Hera and Rachael looked disgusted, Alan appeared annoyed, but Alex stood and stared at her in amazement.

Zeke got out his wallet with the idea of buying the rug to get her to leave, when the woman suddenly wheeled on Hera, pointed and hissed, "Get out здесь, дочь whore Antarv3eian. Ваше присутсвие угрожает одного, и принесет разрушение и злейший короля к нашему городу." And then, as mysteriously as she had appeared, she blended into the crowd and was gone.

Alex and Alan stared in surprise, but Hera, stood as if shocked and stared open mouthed at the disappearing form. Hera turned to Alex and asked anxiously, desperate for confirmation. "What did she say?"

Alex hesitated, as if he did not want to repeat the Indian maid's words. "It was rude," he said. "And strange," he continued, looking both confused and upset. "She said, 'Get out of here, daughter of the,' " here he paused, unwilling to provide a literal translation, but struggled until he thought of a proper substitute, " 'dirty woman… your presence threatens the Prince, and will bring destruction and the evil ones to our city.' "

Zeke stared back in disbelief. He recognized the unfamiliar tongue, a language he knew, but somehow he never expected to hear again. He stood and searched the crowd before returning his questioning gaze to Hera. "The language, she spoke in…," he struggled to complete the sentence and then stared at Alex who held up the Indian's rug showing the very distinctive, and beautifully crafted Canoian Eagle.

Hera, trained from birth regarding all things Taurian, had immediately recognized the royal symbol of the House of Cano, and the strange squawking language. She looked at Zeke with a premonition of defeat even more strongly than the fear that welled up in her. "Canoian, the language of your first love," Hera whispered and stared at Zeke: "of your precious Princess Ultra." She stood trembling, and then turned and ran into the restaurant.

© 2006 Roswell the Next Chapter. Unauthorized reproduction prohibited. Any similarities to events, real or imaginary, are strictly coincidental. Roswell The Next Chapter is in no way affiliated with UPN, the WB, Regency Television, 20th Century Fox, or Jason Katims Productions.

The author wishes to give credit to RTFC for some ideas, characters, and words used in this episode, as well as:

and

The Historian, by Elizabeth Kostova, Little and Brown publisher, 2005.

Chapter 4: Appearance

Story by NickMax

Written by NickMax and Candy Cane

Edited by Candy Cane, faillow, JennaBehr and sdcheesehead

Original Air Date: November 19, 2006

Jim Valenti sped up the I-25 freeway towards Albuquerque in his metallic-blue 2004, F-150 pickup truck. The former sheriff cruised along at 75 MPH, keeping pace with the light traffic on this Saturday morning. He was deep in thought, and ignored the DJ's squawking on the truck's radio.

"Carroll, today's going to be another beautiful day in our glorious 'Land of Enchantment,'" Matt announced cheerfully.

"Even for Albuquerque, 75 on November 18th is exceptionally warm, Matt" she gushed. "Tell me, you got big plans for the weekend?"

"As a transplanted 'Buckeye,' I'm going back to my place to watch a replay of OSU nailing Michigan's hide to the football turf. We had a great game last night. We were ranked number one and they were number two. And, at last night, that 'Team Up North' was ours! How about you?"

"My family's coming in later in the week for Thanksgiving, so my husband and I are going to get the turkey and decorate. We always…"

Jim flicked off the annoying morning news team. He wasn't sure what he should be thankful for. His wife had left him and his boy had disappeared. Then he lost his job at the Sheriff's office, and now, just when he was getting his life back together, Amy was giving him the cold shoulder. He blamed it all on the Pavé Twins.

He knew they're up to something. The way they looked at Amy: it wasn't natural. And their cousin, Zeke he was just as bad. At least he tried to hide his little-boy-looking-at-granny grin when he was around Diane. Jim knew they had lied when they said they were from California. Chandak said their transcripts came from the Manzano Academy in Albuquerque. And Zeke said his mother's name was Tess. He knew that was a pretty unusual name. The only other time he had heard it was out in L.A.; it was the name of the girl that his son, Kyle had run away with.

And Jackson, his old buddy from the factory, had said Lars didn't take off for Fresno because of the sad memories associated with Roswell after the disappearance of Alex. No, Lars had sold out everything to raise money for his son: a son who was still alive as recently as a year ago.

He decided that after he checked out the Academy, he was going to find Lars and get to the bottom of this. Maybe Kyle was still alive! Smiling for the first time that morning, he exclaimed: "Now, that would be something to be thankful for!"

Jim pulled over and exited the freeway. He slowed as he approached the traffic light and then turned right onto Sterling Avenue. Soon he pulled the truck into the nearly empty Academy parking lot and eased it into a slot beside a beige Chrysler minivan. He powered down his window and looked into the van next to him. Jim called out: "Are you Mrs. Simpson?"

A plain, African American middle-aged woman in a cherry and silver University of New Mexico t-shirt put down the morning paper and looked up. "Yes, and you must be Sheriff Valenti," she said as she unlocked the door to the minivan and pushed it open.

Jim exited and stretched his tired shoulders before placing his straw hat on his head. The short, stocky former Sheriff wearing jeans, a short sleeve denim shirt and alligator-skin boots moved to the van, opened the door, and slid in. "Thanks for seeing me," he said as he tipped his hat, "especially on the weekend."

"I'm only doing this as a favor to Chandak; your request is highly irregular," she stated, letting him know her reluctance in meeting to divulge any personal student information. "Frankly, I can't tell you anything. We take privacy very serious at the Manzano Academy, but your request for information about Alex and Alan Pavé and Zeke D'tharthé alarmed me."

Jim looked tired, knowing he was going to have to beg or plead for the information. "Well, anything you can tell me would be much appreciated" he offered.

"That's just it. There is no information! None of our students ever transferred to West Roswell High, and we have no record of the students you mentioned – they never attended Manzano. What's this about?" she asked, obviously concerned. "Do you think they are terrorists trying to infiltrate your school? Do you think they could be planning something sinister? We should call DHS and notify them; I won't have our school's good name dragged through the mud!" she exclaimed.

Jim suddenly realized the trouble he'd stirred up. If there was anything about the boys that wasn't kosher, and his snooping caused them grief, Amy would never forgive him. He quickly searched for a cover story. "Actually, that's why I contacted you. I turned my Sheriff's badge in to work undercover for DHS. This is a very sensitive investigation," he explained. "Do not say anything at your school, or discuss this with Chandak; I'll brief him personally," he directed. "The DHS wants to thank you for your assistance, and once this is resolved, I will see to it that you receive a proper commendation," Jim proclaimed as he worked hard to fill out his spur-of-the-moment cover. He shook her hand and gazed at her with his best, 'I'm in charge' stare.

He exited the van, put on his hat in a decisive manner, and returned to his car. Then he turned to the suspicious guidance counselor. "This is a sensitive investigation. I'm depending on you to keep it secret," he grimly reminded her as he started the truck's engine and pulled back and out of the parking lot.

"God, what are those boys up to?" he mumbled to himself. "I've got to make Amy listen to me. This could be serious… they just might be involved in something sinister."

Zeke sat in a dark-gray plastic chair next to the railing surrounding the newly renovated dock at the Bitter Lake Marina. The golden sun was nearing the western horizon, and as the sky blazed with a vibrant glow of red and gold, the temperature dropped. A strong wind blew in across the cold water, and it ruffled his blond curly hair. He looked at Hera sitting beside him in white shorts and a red halter top, and smiled. She stared out to the wind-raked water in the lake, lost in her thoughts. He leaned over and took her hand. "Are you still bummed about that Indian girl?"

Hera turned to him, "You heard what she said. That I was going to bring danger to the 'Prince.' That could only be you," she said, the expression on her face was sad with a twinge of fear. "I should leave and go away. My very presence here is putting your life, everyone's life, in danger."

"Look, she disappeared and we never heard from her again. I think she was just a freak trying to scare us," he explained.

"You saw the eagle… the Canoian Eagle!" she exclaimed as she turned to him.

"We know people have been coming to Earth from the Five Planets for years. Certainly, there are Canoians here, but that doesn't mean her chant meant anything," he reasoned. "I returned to Earth for you. I know you can't return; I know that your conversion changed you. I accept that. But, I can't live without you," he explained. "So," he smiled broadly, trying to shake her out of her melancholy mood, "No more talk about leaving. It's you and me babe."

Hera looked at his vibrant blue eyes, his strong jaw, and felt the strength of his hand holding hers. She worried how he would react if he only knew the true story, if he knew who her mother was, or what she was. If he knew, he would know he's in danger and he could protect himself from her father. Hera knew she should not keep it a secret, her mother had told her to tell Zeke the entire story; Dakura advised her to explain that Khivar raped her and then she had fled.

Hera turned back to the lake and tried to take salve from the wind swept waves rippling across its dark blue surface. She implored Taur to send her a sign. Should she tell him and face his disappointment, disillusionment, and possibly the loss of his love, or keep silent and let him live in this fantasy while his life was endangered?

Suddenly, as if in direct response to her plea a spray of stinging icy-cold water was thrown up drenching the two. Zeke and Hera jumped up and stared over the railing and looked down. Alex in flip-flops, long shorts and a water-soaked red t-shirt spun a Jet Ski, sharply reversed direction, and gunned the engine. Rachael, decked out in a skin-tight black wet suit, screamed in pleasure and hung on tightly as they zipped back out to the open section of the lake and towards the new Sheraton Bitter Lake resort on the other side of the water.

Zeke and Hera felt the cold water draining down their faces, but before he could move, another spray shot up. He pulled her back, and the water from Alan's Jet Ski barely missed them. Alan in shorts, and Sara in a dark green wet suit waved before he spun the white hull of the Yamaha 'Wavecrest' Jet Ski back towards his brother. Sara wrapped her arms around the handsome Twin's waist and held on tightly as they laughed and giggled away.

"It was pretty warm earlier today, but that water is cold," Zeke noted. "Let me take you back to the Explorer before you catch a cold."

Hera took his hand, and stared up into his loving blue eyes. "The water was exactly what I needed. I've got to tell you something," she announced.

"Okay, but let's get out of the cold." He took her hand, and the two walked rapidly across the marina deck, down the walkway to the parking lot, and to his SUV parked in the third row. He opened the front door for her, closed it once she was in and settled, and ran around to the other door. The parking lot was nearly empty, as most of the other water enthusiasts had departed as the temperature dropped. Zeke looked around to see if anyone was watching. He turned and raised his hand to her: "Let me dry you clothes," he offered.

"No, let me," she insisted. With a wave of her hand, moving slowly from his head to his feet, his wet hair and his water-soaked clothing immediately changed and were now completely dry. He knew she had powers, Mother Liz had explained her abilities, but this was the first time he had witnessed them for himself. He stared at her in amazement.

"Tha… thanks," he stuttered still staring at her and his transformation.

"I am not who you think I am. I'm not even who I thought I was," she began, her face strained with tension.

Zeke looked confused, but moved forward to comfort her. She held him back. "Let me get this out before I lose my nerve. You know I have some powers. I have many more…" She raised her hand and changed her shorts and halter top to a pair of jeans and a warm, dry sweater, her short dark, highlighted locks to a mass of thick, long blonde curls that fell tantalizingly to her shoulders, and altered her vibrant green eyes to a soft brown as Zeke stared in amazement. She took his hand, and as she closed her eyes, their bodies dissolved only to rematerialize moments later at the top of the bluff overlooking the lake. "I can transmute materials and have the gift of apperating," she stated watching for his reaction.

"But, those powers…? Only…" he struggled to comprehend.

"They come only with royal blood," she explained as tears began to fall down her pretty face. "I did not know until two weeks ago, until my mother confessed that my father was not a member of the royal guard, but was actually…" here she paused, struggling to get the words out, fearing his rejection and hatred. "My father is… King Khivar."

Zeke absorbed the confession as if stuck by a blow. His entire body fell back, and he slumped under the weight of the implications. He saw the look of fear, the look of anticipated hatred and rejection Hera could not hide. He was shocked, but rebounded with only a slight pause. He moved to her and wrapped his strong arms around her trembling body, pulled her tight, and ran a hand though her hair before kissing her sweetly. "Did you think I would stop loving you just because Khivar was your father? Did you think my affections were so shallow that I could be dissuaded so easily? I sacrificed my life on Antar, abandoned my family and everyone I loved, and risked death in the passage across the galaxies to be with you. Don't you know I love you? Don't you know I will always love you and we must always be together?"

Hera nearly collapsed with joy. She drew in a big shuddering breathe realizing she had stopped breathing while she waited tremulously for his response. The tears of despair that had fallen only moments before turned to tears of relief and joy.

He moved the hair from her eyes, wiped away the tears, and kissed her. He pulled back and smiled down into her beautiful eyes, now glowing with a happiness he had never seen before. "And," he joked, "I love blondes."

She responded with mock outrage, and playfully hit him in the arm. With a wave of her hand, she restored her hair and eye coloring, and with another she returned them to the Explorer.

Before he could speak, they heard noise in the back as Alex, Rachael, Alan, and Sara piled their backpacks and wet clothes from the Jet Ski adventure into the rear cargo hold of the Explorer. Zeke and Hera poked their heads back and the kids jumped back in surprise.

"Where did you come from?!" Sara exclaimed. "We checked only a moment ago, and the car was empty," she asked in surprise.

Zeke was still stunned, simultaneously shocked by the revelation of her parentage, and electrified by the outpouring of love. Hera seemed to glow too, both relieved and reassured of his affections. They turned to Sara, and Hera devised a weak, but still plausible, explanation. "I dropped my ring, and Zeke and I were on the floor searching for it."

Alex began to laugh, "On the floor," raising his eyes in laughter. "And did you 'get' what you were looking for cousin?" he asked as the Twins and their girlfriends chuckled.

Jim reached Roswell near 8PM; 2000 hours he corrected himself. He drove down Russell Parkway and turned onto Amy's street. He slowed and looked in, but all the windows were dark, and her old car was not parked out front. The former sheriff's instincts told him that the Twins were hiding something, but they also told him that Amy was not in actual danger. He had no idea where she could be, and knew he would be forced to wait to confront her with his evidence.

Amy pulled her Jetta into the small, deserted lot and parked. She turned to Diane who stared up out the windshield at the glowing sign that radiated out 'Madame Vivian' in blue neon. Under the main title, in smaller red letters, it read 'Know Your Future.'

Diane turned to Amy in confusion, "This is the answer to all our questions: a psychic?"

"Maria lived her entire life based on Madame Vivian's guidance," Amy replied. "She's a prophet. I've consulted her once or twice, too," she admitted with an embarrassed smile. "Give her a chance, she's amazing."

The two women exited the car and walked up the steps. Before they could knock, the door handle turned, and to their amazement the door swung silently inward. "I've been expecting you," a pleasant female voice rang out.

They entered and saw a plump, fair-skinned woman with black curly hair and dark brows seated at a green-felt circular table. Her large silver earrings, bracelets, and necklace jangled as she smiled and indicated they should take a seat. "Amy, it's been a while," she chided Amy with a forgiving smile, "and who have you brought with you?" she inquired.

"If you were such a great psychic you would know," Diane replied in a sarcastic, challenging tone.

Madame Vivian was not deterred, nor obviously offended as she began to shuffle the Tarot cards. "Diane, would you like to go first? I detect a degree of skepticism; that is normal on the first visit."

Diane was initially taken back, but then figured Amy had told her they were coming. She stared at the psychic and responded, "She told you my name; tell me something Amy couldn't have prepared you for, something no one knows." Without giving Vivian a chance to reply, she continued, "What was my husband's middle name?"

Madame Vivian did not appear to hear but continued to shuffle the dark brown, elaborately designed Tarot cards; she stared at them as she spoke. "My readings work best when answering a specific question. I could focus on Phillip's middle name, but wouldn't you rather learn if Alex, Alan, and Zeke are," she turned to Amy and then Diane, "your grandchildren?"

Amy turned to Diane. "I know what you are thinking, but I didn't tell her we were coming. I haven't visited her for years. It was something Maria and I did together, and the pain of coming here alone was just too much. I don't believe we ever spoke to the Madame about you or your family. Amy turned to Madame Vivian, hope in her eyes.

Diane asked, "How does it work? How can the cards tell us if the Twins really are the children of Maria, and if Zeke is my Max's son?"

"Each card is different and each has a special meaning depending on the pattern in which it appears, upright or reversed," she explained. "The shuffle may appear random, but it is influenced by your psychic energies. If done and interpreted right, and," she stared at each woman, "the cards can reveal the hidden past or the future, among other things."

Madame Vivian laid out the shuffled deck and flipped up the first two cards, the first was Strength the second Justice. "These young men are here to offer protection. They are extraordinarily powerful, but, unless forced into action, gentle," she said staring at the cards.

She flipped over the Magician, and her head jerked to Diane's. "Zeke is most unique. He is a leader, powerful - sent here to restore order. Here, he will find his true love."

Amy took Diane's hand and the two stared intently, breathlessly waiting for the next card.

She flipped over a card depicting a tall man, dark hair, and deep soulful eyes, and Madame Vivian smiled. "Your Max is The Hierophant; he is now the ruler - a strong leader, and a great counselor, respected and loved by many… and Zeke's father."

Diane sat stunned. "Zeke… really is… my grandson?!" she softly cried. "I am not alone."

She smiled at Amy, "and you have two fine boys." The two women hugged each other, then turned and hugged Madame Vivian.

"And what of my Maria and Max, and their friends?" Amy pleaded.

"Where are they?" Diane seconded.

Madame Vivian shook her head, "That is all I can see tonight; you must come again after a good night's sleep. You should also try to channel your energies into thoughts of the ones you seek before coming again."

The women, seeing no option, nodded and promised to return soon. Each dropped a fifty-dollar bill on the table before heading for the door.

The Madame walked them out, smiled, and waved as they got in Amy's Jetta and stared to pull away. She took a step out her door, and yelled out, "Ezekiel. Your husband's middle name, the one he disliked and never used, was Ezekiel," she called.

Vivian returned to her small bungalow and closed the door. She moved to the table and stared at the display. Before she picked up the cards, she casually flipped over the one next in the pattern. She stared in amazement, as three cards flipped over – the bottom two seemingly wedded to the top. In the center was The Magician. Falling to his right was the Queen of Wands, known for her beauty, strength, and ability to draw people to her. And to his left was the Queen of Swords, a sensitive woman with glowing green eyes who does whatever she needs to get what she wants. She noticed with sadness that one was reversed.

Madame Vivian studied the cards, and sadly touched the reversed card and shook her head.

As she extended her hand to flip over the final two cards, some psychic premonition took over and her hand shook. She had just decided to not reveal the cards, when her hand, as if controlled by another, shot forward and flipped the top card up and onto its back. Madame Vivian sucked in a ragged breath, as she saw the cruel mask of The Devil. The dark piercing green eyes, long straight nose, sharp dead-white cheekbones and heavy dark black eyebrows painted onto the card chilled her. The thick dark mustache and goatee framing his rough, handsome face stared menacingly up at her.

Madame Vivian stared at the back of the final card. Her hand moved shakily forward until she noticed a red tinge that seemed to emanate from the card. She shook her head slowly and moved back, too terrified to turn it over, too afraid to see what it might reveal.

Jim arose late, showered, and dressed carefully in new, pressed jeans and the sporty brown, long-sleeve sweater Amy had given him for his birthday. He moved to the kitchen and swallowed the last of his coffee, then took a wet towel and wiped the dust from his dark boots. Jim moved towards the door, picked up his hat and keys, then stopped and ran back to the bathroom. He swung open the medicine cabinet and pulled out an ancient glass container with a faded wooden top. Jim twisted off the lid and splashed the English Leather cologne onto his hands. He applied a little to his cheeks and looked at his expression in the mirror. "I've got to make her listen. She could be in danger, and… I need her in my life," he concluded. Then he smiled at his reflection "How could she resist you?" he laughed as the headed for his truck.

He drove to her store, and seeing it was closed, changed directions and soon pulled up in front of Amy's house. He hopped out of his truck full of hope and determination. Half way up the sidewalk he stopped and breathed in the tantalizing aroma emanating from the open window in her kitchen, then smiled. "She's baking! I can smell the chocolate in the air. She always makes me a pie or a cake when she wants to make up." He reached her door and rapped twice in quick succession. Jim could hear music playing and was about to knock again when the door cracked and then opened wide.

"Jim," she smiled, "What are you doing here so early on a Sunday morning?" she asked.

"Well…" he realized he hadn't thought of a good excuse, so said the first thing that came into his mind. "I stopped by your shop and I was surprised it was closed. Is everything okay?"

Amy's smile dropped. Her shop was always closed on Sunday, and she immediately realized the basis of his concern. "It's the Twins you're worrying about isn't it?" she asked as the pitch in her voice rose with her rising anger. "Do you still think the boys are a danger? Do you really think they are out to hurt me?" she asked incredulously.

"I don't know what to believe – but it is clear there is something wrong about them." He was not sure how to proceed, but plunged on. "I was up in Albuquerque, and I… found out something; can I come in and talk?" he asked in a soft, urgent pleading tone.

He started to move forward to enter, but she blocked his way. "Worried… found out…?" she asked with a confused frown.

"Well, I was talking to Principal Chavez, about… the boys… and…"

"You were snooping around about my Alex and Alan?!" she exclaimed.

"Well, it just came up. You know I've known Chandak for years, and I mentioned about the new kids, and their coming from California and all and…" She put her right hand on her hip and looked a Jim with growing irritation.

He didn't know what to do, but he was sure she'd understand once she heard all the facts. "Chandak said their transcripts were from a school up in Albuquerque, not California, so I went up to check…" his voice trailed off as he could see the growing anger in her eyes.

He moved up close and lowered his voice. "They lied to us and…," he stopped suddenly as he saw Alex's head pop up behind Amy's. Jim, now alarmed pushed his way in and saw Alan taking a tray of cookies out of the oven. A large mixing bowl, eggs, milk, flour and were sitting out on the kitchen counter. "What's going on here?!" he barked, but he knew before he got the question out, and felt stupid.

Alex used a Teflon spatula to lift two Toll House cookies off the sheet and onto a plate, and then handed the plate to him. "We're baking cookies, would you like to help?" he asked with a smile.

Jim turned, irrationally alarmed. "Amy, you shouldn't be alone with them. I'm calling the DHS, these kids are illegal aliens. I don't care if they're from Canada or from Venus, they don't belong. He turned to leave, but Alex blocked his way.

Alex anxiously turned to his brother, recognizing the problem, but not sure what to do.

"Please sit down Sheriff Valenti," Alan commanded in a quiet, yet authoritarian voice.

Jim stared, his eyes hard with a mixture of anger, fear of losing Amy, and irritation with the boy. "I'm not used to taking orders from a snot-nosed punk like you, and I'm not going to start now." He spun on his heel and started for the door.

"Sit down, grandpa," Alex pleaded, and then watched as Jim looked at him first with an incredulous stare, and then a look of anger.

"You may be able to manipulate her with that grandchild crap, but you're not fooling me," Jim growled.

"Please sit down, and let us explain," Alex now added as he took Jim's arm and gently, but forcefully edged him forward. Jim looked like he might jerk his arm away, but somehow the boy's touch was so soothing that he allowed himself to be maneuvered to the couch. He sat, and Alan indicated Amy should join him. She followed as directed and sat on the couch, but she scooted away, stopping only when she reached the edge of the couch, and crossed her arms and stared daggers at an alarmed Jim.

"How could you… I thought I cared for you; but if you'd sneak around my back to harm my grandchildren…," she broke off, too angry to continue. Her eyes tore into Jim with withering intensity.

Her stare and harsh words reignited his resistance and he started to rise. "No matter what you say, you'll never convince me we are related!" He turned to Alex. "It's impossible, you've got to be at least 15, and Maria's only 20 something."

Alex stared at Alan. Alan stared back shaking his head. Jim and Amy stopped arguing, and Jim returned to his seat as they watched the boys silently, but deliberately, debating. They did not speak but eerily it was clear they were communicating, arguing about how to continue.

"It's the only way," Alex mentally directed his reply.

"No, Zeke would kill us if we…" Alan telepathically cautioned.

"It's our duty to protect the Prince! This is the only way. Jim's a loose cannon and can do great damage if not stopped," Alex pleaded. "Better to tell him the truth and have him on our side again than have to take," he paused for emphasis, as he stared meaningfully at Jim, "more dramatic action."

Alex pulled a chair up to the coffee table located in front of the couch. He reached behind him and pulled out his wallet, extracting a Roswell Bank and Trust Visa. The tall, more reckless of the two Twins placed the credit card on the table and stared at Alan. Alex extended his hand and put his first finger on the hologram embedded into the card's surface. He nodded, willing his brother forward. Alan closed his eyes, shook his head, knowing there would be hell to pay. He turned to Jim and Amy, took his grandmother's hand and squeezed it for strength, and then extended his finger too.

At his touch, a silver hologram sprung up from the card. Initially it was small and fuzzy, but it continued to grow until it was nearly three-feet high. Jim and Amy's eyes shot open in amazement. Jim started to rise in fear, but Alex pointed and Jim turned back and looked at the projected image.

A strangle little man was standing next to Michael; both were dressed in black tuxedos, white frilly shirts, and dark green ties. They were backstage at a wedding. Michael turned to the man, "I can't breathe, Zedag."

"You'll be fine. Just keep thinking about Maria. She's a beautiful woman and you're a lucky man. Just remember, you're the star. Just follow your lines. Watch Max and Liz. Keep breathing. This will all be over in a few minutes," he soothingly advised. "Now, stand tall, walk slowly. Think 'General'; think great leader, think Adonis," he advised as he smiled at Michael. "Okay, make me proud."

Jim looked quizzically at Amy as small smiles began to form on their faces. He leaned forward with Amy to watch.

Horns trumpeted and Michael walked out of a side door. The orchestra played a new song as the spotlights caught him in the eyes, momentarily blinding him. He looked up the aisle and could see Isabel and the others who were smiling back at him. He took a first step and could feel the hundreds of eyes inspecting him. As he reached the end of the aisle, he stepped between the bridesmaids and groomsmen and turned.

Then an announcer's voice boomed in the air. "Michael Guerin the essence of Lord Rathmé Damien Pavé, son of the King."

The orchestra started and the strains of 'here comes the bride' begin. Amy in the hologram arose and all the guests stood on her signal.

Amy took Jim's hand and looked into the hologram; they both smiled broadly.

The view shifted to backstage at the wedding, with Zedag speaking to Maria and Jim.

"Okay, it's show time. Maria, the bride is the star. And let me tell you, you look beautiful. Now walk slowly. This is your moment," Zedag encouraged.

Maria turned in the hologram to Jim on the right as they begin the walk.

Amy hunched forward on the couch and watched as tears filled her eyes. Her beautiful daughter was dressed in a long white gown with 15-foot train. Two helpers followed her, keeping the train flowing behind her. A delicate white veil covered her face. Maria had on long white gloves covered in diamonds that sparkled as she walked. White gold, diamond earrings graced her long delicate ears. A diamond and ruby necklace around her neck caught the lights and reflected the rays back beautifully. Her hair, now colored a golden red was pulled high atop her head with curls dangling down in an elegant style. Her makeup accentuated her green eyes and she was looking the most beautiful of her life.

The gathered guests stared at her, and even though she was not royalty, they bowed as she passed.

Amazingly, Jim and Amy sitting on the couch could feel the emotions of those in the hologram as well as see and hear the unfolding action. They could feel Michael, who had seen Maria at her best and her worst, and feel his heart thudding as he was stuck by her beauty. One old man, staring with unblinking eyes cried silently as he saw this vision walking past him down the aisle.

Amy jumped up from the couch and pointed. "D'Luc"! She almost shouted, shaken by the sight of her long-lost first husband. But, Jim gently pulled her back and she sat in shock as she snuggled close to him. Jim lifted a protective arm around her shoulders and pulled her tight.

As the procession displayed in the hologram reached the end of the aisle, Jim kissed Maria on the cheek and gave her hand to Michael. Jim moved to his seat and sat down next to Amy and Diane who were both crying as they looked up at the beautiful Maria and handsome Michael.

Amy was shocked again as she made out Madame Vivian in the second row.

Jim studied the hologram and could make out a young boy that looked like Zeke, and a set of blonde-haired very young twins that sat quietly beside Brody and his daughter Sydney.

Michael looked at Maria and as he kissed her cheek gently whispered "God, you look beautiful."

Maria quirked back, "You're not looking too bad yourself."

Jim's eyes opened wide as he absorbed the wedding and his natural position beside Amy. He looked at their interlaced hand and could see the engagement ring on Amy's finger. He smiled as he felt her in his arms where she should always be. The hologram faded and he felt a sense of loss, as the beautiful spectacle ended.

"That was beautiful Alex. But, I don't understand. I was there. Jim and I watched as Maria married Michael, but why… why do I not recall any of it?" Amy questioned.

"And," Jim coming down from the high of the holographic display regained some of his skepticism, "the wedding proves my point. Maria was a young woman, just married. It is not possible for you to be her children."

"Did you not see Zeke, Alan, and me sitting in the pews at the ceremony?" We were born before the nuptials.

Alex turned to his brother and they extended their hands and touched the card again. "Show them our birth," he commanded.

A new hologram sprung up showing a very pregnant Maria lying on a bed with Michael beside her. "I feel funny," Maria exclaimed in terror. She looked at the clock; it read 3:15 AM and she shook Michael who was instantly awake. "Something is wrong with the babies! It doesn't feel right! I'm losing them!"

Amy looked at Jim, a tear falling down her cheek and then she stared at the Twins in confusion. They nodded towards the hologram. Suddenly the room was filled with a bright, silver light. The Twins hovered in midair in front of Maria. She opened her arms and they settled against her chest.

Amy was crying now as she watched as her daughter smiled and cried with joy. Amy beamed with pride, "They looked so perfect and beautiful."

She watched as Maria put them to her breasts and they began to suckle. Michael moved close to Maria and the babies. He uncurled Alex and Alan's tiny fingers and they immediately wrapped them around his.

Jim and Amy could feel the soft touch of the newborns as if they had grasped their own fingers, and sat stunned and overwhelmed with the sensation.

Jim looked away and saw the Twins, who sat mesmerized with the memory. They smiled broadly as they watched Michael look down at them, as babies, and soaked in the warmth of their father's smile.

Jim recalled the birth of Kyle in Roswell General. He could recall his wife Michelle's face. It was aglow with exhilaration and joy as she cradled the red, crinkled-face new baby. He basked in the reflected joy in the Twins' faces.

Jim turned back to the hologram and watched Maria and Michael exchanged broad ear-to-ear grins. After several minutes of nearly silent bliss, the babies seemed satisfied and pulled away from Maria, as the hologram again faded.

The image was replaced by a series of rapidly changing scenes of the Twins and Michael and Maria, at their home of geodesic domes located in the desert, in the Roswell mall, and at a large circular structure next to a flying saucer suspended on a pedestal.

In each scene the boys appeared successively taller and older, while Michael and Maria seemed to not age at all.

Finally, they saw the boys running to a large silver ship. They were magically transported, in a beam of brilliant blue light, inside the ship, before the saucer rose majestically upwards towards a glowing red dome.

Jim - the suspicion there from the beginning, but unwilling to even consider it - turned to the Twins. "You are not from Earth are you?" he asked. "Earth babies don't magically float down to their mother's lap; they don't grow up in a few years; and they don't fly away in spaceships!"

"We were born on Earth…" Alex tried to explain.

"But, we are not of this Earth. Both our father and mother, Michael and Maria, are hybrids. They were engineered from Antarian genetic material and human DNA."

"Grandma Amy, you provided the human material and D'Luc, your first husband and a great scientist on Antar, the alien DNA for Maria," Alan explained.

Amy nodded as if it all began to make sense.

"Our father, Michael, was part of the Royal Four," Alex proclaimed with a big smile.

"He, Max, Isabel, and Tess returned to our home planet, in the ship you saw, to fight a great evil, to preserve our planet and ultimately to protect the future of Earth."

"We were successful, and the Empress Topol is dead and her war machine wrecked," Alan added, nearly bursting with pride.

Jim was overloaded with information, but asked, "So you… are… really… aliens?"

"We contain elements of both species. But, because we grew up on Earth, we are most closely aligned to this beautiful blue planet."

"How," Amy asked, "can you be born and grow up so fast?"

Alex saw Jim's nodding head as he too stared in disbelief.

"Antarian children mature much faster than humans. It takes only a few terrestrial years to mature, but we grew even faster, from infants to adults in only three years, because we have a special role."

"Zeke, Max and Tess's son, grew rapidly too. As an adolescent, Zeke fell in love with a Canoian Princess named Ultra; but she left and returned to her planet - it broke his heart."

"I don't know if it was just a rebound romance, or the true thing, but he now believes he loves a terrestrial girl named Hera. We returned with Zeke to Earth so he can determine if Hera is the one," Alan tried to clarify.

"Our special role is to protect the Prince," Alan continued. "It is our duty to stand beside him, and protect him from all harm, so he can return and someday take his place on the throne." He stared into Jim eyes, as all friendliness and the masquerade of a young man faded, "Your investigation endangers the Prince."

Leaving no possibility of misinterpretation, Alex turned back to the hologram. There the young Alex and Alan joined hands and stared out over a mall parking lot. They concentrated and a thousand cars jumped three feet up into the air, hovered, and then simultaneously crashed down. Alex turned away from the hologram to Jim, and commanded in a low steady tone, "You must stop, and stop now."

Hera and Rachael busied themselves with the Thanksgiving preparations. They stood in the simple dining room in Hera's house and chatted as they set out four place settings. Hera carefully set the silverware out on folded paper towel napkins. Rachael poured ice water into the special-occasion wine glasses, and removed a clear plastic covering from a platter holding sliced sausages, cheeses, chopped vegetables, dip, and ripe olives.

"So," asked Rachael, "Zeke took the news pretty well?"

"Yes," Hera smiled, "He said he loved me, and it didn't matter who my father was!" she gushed. "Isn't he just the sweetest boy in the world?"

Rachael picked up two little ceramic Thanksgiving salt and pepper shakers off the table and stared at them, lost in thought. She turned and looked at Hera with a solemn smile, "My mom left when I was only eight, but… I can still remember her preparing the turkey, and all the fixings. Sometimes, she let me help," she tried to smile as she remembered.

"I know what it is like to be without a parent. Do you think about him?" Rachael gently asked.

"Think about whom," Hera asked confused.

"Khivar, your dad," she clarified. "I mean, is he still alive? Is he looking for you? Does he miss you? Did he contact you because he loves you and wants you back in his life?"

Hera turned away, not answering. "I think mom needs me in the kitchen," her voice rising with emotion. Hera turned and left an embarrassed Rachael alone with the ceramic turkeys.

Dakura transferred the steaming mashed potatoes from the large pot on the stove into a ceramic serving dish. She smiled at Hera, happy to spend the day together, sharing this unusual Earth celebration with Hera and their neighbors.

She watched as Hera raised the lid off the roaster. The turkey had been carefully removed from the purple enamel slow cooker earlier that morning and moved to a large platter with the colored print of a large turkey.

Rachael and her father, Jackson, were in the dining room slicing the bird for the feast.

Hera smiled as she heard her best friend and her father joking in the other room. She knew they were sampling the white meat, and stuffing ripe olives in their mouths, too hungry to wait.

Dakura helped Hera tip the roaster to pour the turkey drippings into another large pot. Hera turned on the heat under the pan, and then added first flour and then milk, and began to stir under her mother's watchful and approving eye.

"This year, I'm going to get the gravy just right: the first time," Hera added. "Not too thick like last year, or too thin like the year before."

Rachael popped back in and helped carry out the cranberry Jell-O and the fresh baked rolls out to the table. Jackson took the bowl of dressing and the butter plate Dakura handed them, and held the door for her as she carried in the green-bean casserole.

Rachael returned and helped Hera fill two gravy boats, adding a small ladle into each. Rachael looked at Hera and asked, "Would you rather be at Zeke's?"

"He asked me, and I'm sure I'd have fun… I always have fun when we're together. But, this celebration means a lot to mom," Hera added. "And," she lowered her voice to a whisper, "Zeke is going to try to sneak out and see Tess."

"How about you: did Alex invite you for dinner?" Hera asked.

"Yeah, he asked - and that was enough," she smiled. "He seemed to understand that this is a family gathering, and I'll see him tonight at the dance. They're having a live pop band, some group from Portales: supposed to be pretty good - mostly covers, but a few original songs too. They are called 'First.' "

"Have you decided what to wear?" Hera asked. "Should we wear jeans, or get dressed up… I mean it's being held at the Roswell Library, how fancy can it be?"

"I'm wearing a skirt, a very short dress," she laughed, "and if I can get out the door without my father seeing, a low cut top." She nodded to Hera, "I'm going to blow Alex's mind! He'll take one look at me and tell that pesky Becky McCoy that's been hanging around him to take a flying leap!" she explained and the two girls began to giggle.

Before Hera could comment on her outfit, her mom yelled out, "Hera, what are you two doing in there, everything's getting cold."

"Come on honey," Jackson piped in.

The girls picked up the gravy boats and moved into the small dining room to the overflowing table set for the holiday feast.

Zeke drove down the dark street and pulled into the nearly full Roswell Library lot. Light poles provided enough illumination to see other kids, some decked out in their finest and some in jeans and dirty, dusty boots moving to the door. He carefully parked the Explorer far from the watchful eye of the off-duty Roswell Deputy Sheriff hired for security.

Zeke wore black jeans with a black button-up-shirt left untucked and the top button left unbuttoned. Alex, also in black jeans sported a royal green short-sleeved shirt and his brother was in khakis with a navy blue polo shirt. The boys checked their freshly polished boots, and straightened their light jackets before they walked down the lot and headed for the entrance to the Library.

A truck door opened suddenly as they walked past, and the Twins jerked into defensive mode: one in front of Zeke and one guarding his rear. They watched as Benny extricated his large body from an old Chevy pickup. Smoke from his cigarette billowed out before he held out his hand to an obviously flustered Chevette, who was desperately trying to stuff her black blouse back in her tight black pants. He gently helped her down to the sideboard and to the blacktop, and bent to kiss her.

"Hey, Benny: great game," Zeke called out, offering a truce in their continuing battle of wills. It was true; Benny and Goylzk had combined for 12 tackles and four sacks. The last was the game winner as they ran down the quarterback on eight and goal, stuffing the frantic ball carrier into a heap two yards shy of the goal line.

"You and Goylzk, saved the day," Alex offered.

Benny could not be dissuaded; flattery about the game had no effect. He had not forgotten being outwitted by the Twins or out muscled by Zeke. He moved close, towering over the boys. "I never forget," he declared gruffly. "One day it's going to be just you and me, Zeke, one day soon," he quietly threatened. Benny grabbed up Chevette's hand and half dragged her towards the door as he stalked away.

"Boy, you know how to make friends and influence people, don't you," Alan teased. The boys shook their heads and headed for the door.

As they approached the library steps, a faded Ford Taurus pulled up to the curb. The window powered down, and Jackson's big head poked out checking the area. The front passenger door flew open and Rachael and Hera exited.

Rachael was dressed in a dark brown dress with short sleeves and a square neckline. A light brown ribbon went around the front that complimented her matching brown sandals. Her shoulders were covered in a light shawl. She saw Alex, and demurely walked in his direction. Alex ran to her side and bent to kiss her, but she held him off pointing at the car with her chin. She took his hand and they walked together to her father.

"Daddy, I'd like to introduce Alex Pavé, he's a student at West Roswell, and my… friend."

Alex strode forward disregarding Jackson's piercing stare and extended his hand. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Tempus," he offered and smiled. "Your daughter is both beautiful, as well as a great study partner. Let me introduce my bother Alan, and my cousin Zeke." The two young men stepped forward dutifully, and respectfully shook the big meaty hand of the suspicious, overprotective single parent.

Rachael stepped to the car and kissed her father. "Zeke will bring us home after the dance, so you don't need to pick us up."

Jackson gave Alex his best intimidation stare, shared a part for Alan and Zeke, and then nodded and gave Rachael and Hera a loving, fatherly smiled. "Eleven sharp," Jackson bellowed before he pulled forward and out of the lot.

A silver Chevy Silverado dual-cab truck pulled up next. Sara jumped out and ran to Alan. She wrapped a possessive arm around his, and started pulling him towards the Library entrance. With one backward glance, she waved to her dad and yelled, "We'll be back late; I'll get a ride."

Alan admired her mid-thigh, black skirt and her white tank top that showed a tantalizing strip of her deeply tanned skin. He ran his hand down her arm and felt the soft, purple see-through long-sleeved shirt that covered the strip of bared stomach. He smiled as his eyes caught the glint of her silver belly-button ring that reflected off the lights from the parking lot.

Mr. Ferguson exited the truck and stared. He saw his daughter rise up on toes in her black, strappy heels to give Alan a kiss, when he coughed loudly.

Sara spun as she noticed her father standing by the truck: his eyes demanding an introduction.

"Dad, this is Alan. He's my new boyfriend."

Mr. Ferguson extended his hand, but before Alan could respond, she grabbed his hand and pulled him up the steps and into the Library.

Alex and Rachael soon caught up to their friends and they happily skipped up the steps and slipped inside.

Zeke and Hera laughed at the different farewells delivered to Rachael and Sara's parents. Zeke stopped Hera, and gently pulled her between two parked cars and kissed her.

He held up her hand in a dance move that allowed her to spin slowly before him. He admired her red, spaghetti strapped dress. He saw it went down to just above her knees and had a layer of black shear translucent material over it that matched her black, heeled, knee high boots, and smiled. "You look beautiful," he said as he moved in for another kiss. "We could skip the dance, and go back to my place," he whispered.

Hera smiled as she shook her head and pulled him towards the door. Kids at the top of the steps had the door open, and they could hear the pulsating strains of 'First,' the cover band, pumping their music out into the lot.

As they entered, they took off their jackets and handed them to the hat-check girl and moved out into the main library area. Both were surprised with the transformation. Several portable displays had been moved, and the band was set up on a small, low stage in front of the book check-out station. Kids were dancing to a fast-beat number; their talents ranging from accomplished to laughable.

Zeke spied over the crowd. Only a few of the main Library lights were on, and a small sparkle ball had been hung above the band. Red and yellow spot lights were directed onto the rotating ball and reflected colored lights were projected across the ceiling and out into the dancing students. Small red ropes were erected across the side aisles preventing incursions in to the dark stacks. But already he could see couples lifting the ropes, laughing, and sneaking down the darkened aisles. Zeke searched in the din of the loud pulsating music, across the darkened room lit only by the colored lights. Soon his sixth sense allowed him to locate his cousins. He spotted Alex and Alan dancing with the girls near the stage. The song stopped and the kids clapped.

"Would you like to get some punch," Alex asked Rachael. She nodded and they walked to a long flat table manned by Principal Chavez and Ms. Kostova. The two chaperones, recruited from the West Roswell High staff were ladling the punch, watching for any wisecrackers who might try to slip alcohol into the crystal serving bowl. Ms. Kostova handed two clear plastic cups, filled with the reddish fruit punch to Alex and Rachael.

Alex and Rachael moved to the edge of the area set aside for the dance floor and were able to find two empty seats set off to the side affording them some privacy. They slowly drank their punch and watched the other kids gyrate to the music. A slow dance started and Rachael spotted Sara and Alan. She watched as the tall Twin placed his arms low around the small of the cheerleader's narrow waist and began to move expertly to the music.

"Have you been giving Alan dance lessons?" she asked with a laugh. "He's got all the moves I showed you."

Alex looked surprised, and then considered. "Of course, I guess there is no reason you should know," he mysteriously commented. He watched his brother dance for a few seconds and then turned to Rachael.

"Everything I know, Alan knows. Everything I see, read, hear, smell, feel – everything one experiences, the other senses and knows too. I didn't need to teach Alan to dance, he knew as soon as you taught me," he added as if this was the most natural thing in the world.

"You mean," her faced suddenly burned red with embarrassment, "he could feel, felt like you felt, when we kissed?"

"Yes, he thanked me when I got home. You know, about learning how to kiss," he chuckled. Then he saw the look of discomfort in Rachael's face. "What is it?" he asked now concerned.

"Well, I don't want to share my intimate thoughts with… another." She took his hand and looked up into his eyes. "I mean, someday… someday when were older… we might, you know, move the relationship to a 'deeper' level," she giggled nervously. "And, I don't think I could do that, you know, if… if Alan was like in the room watching."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and held him for several seconds and then looked at him again. "Can't you… like… turn it off: the connection… between you two?"

He looked at her shocked. "Turn off the connection!" He slumped back, the very thought hitting him like a blow. "We've never been… separated." He jumped up now upset. "I care for you, you know that, but what you're asking… that'd be like asking me to cut off my right hand."

He stared down at his hand and then at Rachael, before he started to stagger away from her across the dance floor.

He looked back, and her heart nearly broke when she saw the look in his eyes: the hurt, the disillusionment, and the loss. Rachael jumped up and ran to his side. She turned him to her, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. She could feel him tremble in her arms. "I didn't know what I was asking," she whispered.

She pulled him onto the dance floor, and they started to sway to the music. She ran her hand along his face, through his hair, and pulled him down so their foreheads touched. "I won't lose you," she whispered as she pulled him tight. "You're special, and I'll just have to learn to accept all of you."

She looked up into his eyes and could see him smiling again, and hugged him tight. Rachael knew she must take it slow. Instinctively she knew he would want and need the privacy too. Rachael had matured a lot since she left middle school. In her freshman year she had learned how to sway the boys, getting whatever she wanted while making them think it was their idea.

Alex pulled her back, held her gaze for a second as he smiled. His right hand, wrapped around her waist as they danced slipped down and caressed her bottom in a familiar manner she had encouraged. But now, she grabbed it and pulled it back, and shook her head no. "Sorry, no more of that," she frowned. "I understand you are joined to your brother; I accept that. But if we can't be 'alone,' we'll have to stop all of that," she announced as she laid her head on his shoulder and silently smiled to herself.

Zeke and Hera had slipped off and were alone in the deserted book aisles. They danced close to the slow songs and talked quietly. They held each other tight and tried to soak in their time together. They danced and listened to the lyrics of the song the band played.

And it's like, every time I turn around
I fall in love and find my heart face down and
Where it lands is where it should
This time it's like

Zeke was lost in his thoughts, sensing something coming; some new threat. But surprisingly he was neither upset, nor fearful, but quietly excited.

The two of us should probably start to fight
Coz something's gotta go wrong

He pulled Hera close to him, and she could feel the tension in his body through his shirt.

Coz I'm feeling way too damn good, oh
Feelin' way too damn good

Oh, oh, feelin' way too damn good
(I missed you so much
That I begged you to fly in and see me)
Feelin' way too damn good
(I missed you so much
That I begged you to fly in and see me)

The song ended, and as if forewarned, they walked back arm-in-arm to the dance floor in a somber mood.

Zeke held Hera's hand in his right, and extended his left arm to look at his watch. Hera pulled it to her and saw it was after 2200 hours. Zeke looked across the dance floor, spotted the Twins, and lifted his hand to show them his wrist watch. He nodded with his chin towards the entrance signaling it was time to go. The boys happily took the hands of Rachael and Sara, whispered jokes and wisecracks as they began to walk towards Zeke and Hera.

There was a lull in the music as 'First' stopped and conferred about their next selection leaving the room suddenly quiet. The gathered students could hear the wind rustling outside. Suddenly the doors to the Library were yanked open, and everyone's eyes swung around as two strikingly beautiful strangers, teenager girls, strode forward.

They were dressed as if they might have come straight from a sultan's harem. Both wore skimpy, light purple diaphanous gowns that barely covered dark purple bras and panties. As the two stood in the entrance, a series of lightning bolts struck outside framing their bodies: the flashing lights reflected off the golden bracelets and rings that adorned their arms and fingers, and the gold of their sandals and straps that wound up their thighs. The reflections looked like sparks flying off otherworldly objects. A second later, thunder boomed into the crowd through the open doors and raked the students filling the dance floor. The two teens entered dramatically, and the rain, which had been predicted all day, started to fall in a gushing, roof-rattling downpour.

The two new teenagers stared into the crowd until their eyes locked on Zeke and the Twins.

Sara and Rachael were standing beside the Twins. Becky McCoy and Jeremy Goylzk were next to them, and the girls stared in resentment as they saw the boys gawking at the new arrivals. The girls looked in amazement, as broad smiles suddenly covered the Twins' faces.

The band made their selection and started a new song.

Is that someone you used to date
Why she's hanging around here, what's her story
Doesn't she know that it's too late
That the party is over and the car is for me

Sara and Rachael looked from the boys to the new girls.

The taller, more athletically built harem girl smiled possessively at their boyfriends, filling Sara and Rachael with confusion and rising concern.

Why don't you tell her what's been going on
Cuz she seems to be dreaming instead of just leaving
If you don't have the heart to fill her in
Then just step aside and let me lay it on the line

The Twins walked forward as if in a trance. Sara grabbed Alan's shoulder to stop him as Rachael ran around in front of Alex, effectively blocking his path. He looked at her a moment, she could see he wanted to stop, to stay with her, but was compelled forward by a greater force.

Cuz you're mine
And tonight you don't revolve around her
You're mine
And this time I'm gonna scream a little louder

The Twins continued forward as if Sara and Rachael were not there. The Twins moved around them and continued to walk towards the new arrivals. After a few steps, they began to run. Alex and Alan stopped and looked at the shorter girl. Her pixie-cut brown hair, beautiful face, dark, nearly glowing, purple eyes were familiar, but oh so unexpected. The stared open mouth at Ultra, Princess of Cano, and then nodded in amazed recognition before they hurried on to Meta, the Duchess of Cano.

The band played on: the sensuous female lead singer belted out the chorus.

Don't wanna be like
Every other girl in the world
Like every other one who wants you
Cuz when I see you something inside me burns
Then I realize I wanna come first
I wanna come first

Ultra strode into the room and every eye turned in her direction. She walked straight to Zeke and Hera. Hera, like everyone else in the room was stunned with the dramatic entrance.

In sudden recognition of her chief rival, a woman hidden away billions of light years from Earth, Hera stepped back a step as if slapped. Her face showed first surprise, then shock, and finally was gripped with fear. She turned to Zeke, looking for the expected surprise on his face, but saw only a small confident smile. She staggered back and released his hand as she stared at her Prince and his Princess.

Ultra smiled her superior royal smile, but her unshakable composure cracked a little as she looked upon Zeke. She had sacrificed everything, traveled across the galaxy, waited in total boredom in the cave, and finally succumbed to the indignities of transforming into an Indian squaw waiting hand and foot for a lazy brave to make this moment possible. She stared up at the Crown Prince of Antar with a mixture of love, longing, and smoldering resentment.

"I have dreamed about this moment, when we would be reunited. I've thought about it and planned it for months," Ultra whispered as she relished the moment.

But, she saw not surprise or shock in Zeke's eyes, but rather only a small, knowing smile.

You look at me and I just die
It's like heaven arriving in my mind

She turned sharply and looked at Hera - who had held Zeke's hand possessively only a moment before. Hera looked at them with a bewildered frown, her eyes glistened with tears.

And I can't believe all this jealousy
I used to be a girl who could let a guy breathe

But you're mine
And tonight you going to revolve around me
You're mine
And this time I'm gonna get a little louder

"You're not surprised to see me?!" Ultra exclaimed. She spun and could see the still surprised and shocked expressions on the Twins' faces: then she turned back to Zeke.

"You knew I followed you!" she nearly screamed as the implications hit her. "I bet you knew all along. You knew we snuck on the ship, and you let us suffer in that tiny hold for the entire voyage!"

Don't wanna be like every girl who's tried to get you
I wanna be the one who's never sorry that she met you
I wanna come first

I wanna come first
Hey!

Zeke felt he had to say something, "No, I didn't know, Ultra, not really," he weakly continued. "I wanted to say goodbye before we left Antar; but Duke Sargon sent word you would not permit it. I had expected to be torn apart leaving you, but I didn't sense the agony I feared. It was as if you… your spirit… your essence was with me, giving me the strength to carry on," he calmly explained. "Even after the appearance of the Canoian Indian, at the Crashdown, I was not sure," he struggled to explain. "I was not sure it was you, and that you had really returned."

"This was a test, wasn't it!" she moved close and stared, incensed, up into his eyes. "If I really cared for the big important Prince, I had to come crawling on my hands and knees halfway across the universe to his Highness and beg for his love!" she yelled.

"You never loved me!" she declared. "Never cared, never really loved me, not like I loved you," she wailed, her body wracked in pain, as she started to cry in frustration. "You just can't keep your hands off that Antarvéian bastard long enough to see who really loves you, who would do anything for you!" she cried and took Zeke's hand.

"Her father's searching for you, using her to lure you into his trap so he can kill you," she pleaded. "You are so desperate to have someone to prop up your massive ego, you can't see the danger!" Ultra stated angrily and glared up into his face with such an overpowering display of desire and sexual tension that several of the overhead lights exploded.

"I love you, have, and always will love you," Ultra exclaimed. "Make me the one, put me first, marry me as your grandfather, King D'tharthé arranged before our birth; fulfill the prophecy of Taur," she begged. "The Priestess foretold the future when she proclaimed that the son of Zan shall wed the daughters of Larek and rule the Five Planets. Return with me to Antar so we may rule as it is has been ordained by the stars!" she pleaded.

Don't wanna be like
Every other girl in the world
Like every other one who wants you
Cuz when I see you something inside me burn
And then I realize I wanna come first.

A crowd of kids surrounded Zeke and Ultra. They listened in confusion as the beautiful, exotic newcomer raked the new kid thoroughly over the coals. Benny felt Chevette's hand securely planted on his shoulder so he could not drift too close to the girl Zeke called Ultra. Benny smiled in glee as he watched Ultra alternatively curse and cajole Zeke.

Hera took one last look at Zeke. Heard the hateful words the Princess spewed out, and, worse than her accusations, knew they were true. I must flee, leave, and never look back, she wept. It is the only way to keep my love, my ill-fated, star-crossed lover safe, she silently declared.

She turned to Zeke, wanting to say farewell. Instead she could only see Ultra, her face only inches from Zeke's, seething with a mixture of love, hurt, and anger. The tension was so thick she could feel the air crackle with electricity. Hera turned away, unwilling to see the inevitable kiss that could only be moments away.

Hera ran to Sara and Rachael who stood planted to the floor, staring at the Twins who continued to fawn over the Duchess, and dragged the girls towards the door. Tears of unbridled anger, frustration, and fear wracked their bodies as they saw the Twins engrossed in the new girl. Even the other boys, they noticed, were being drawn, as if magnetically, to the new girl's presence.

Rachael jerked Hera to a stop, having seen the look of recognition in Hera's eyes. "Who are they?!" she demanded.

Hera, her voice cracking with emotions pointed first to the girl confronting Zeke. "She is Princess Ultra, daughter of King Larek and Queen Mariela, of Cano, another planet circling Zeke's star Taur. She was Zeke's first love."

Sara's mind was reaching overload level as she saw her first real boyfriend, the first boy to capture her heart, the first to treat her as if she were someone truly special, hover around the new girl. Not only was her heart being broken, her mind was being assaulted with crazy talk of princes, kings and queens, on planets circling someplace call Taur. Sara pointed a shaking finger at Alan and the girl that had mesmerized her boyfriend, "Who is she?!"

"She is Duchess Meta, also of Cano," Hera replied is a dead matter-of-fact tone indicating she was near overload too. "She is Ultra's best friend," she explained calmly. "Ultra and Zeke, Meta and the Twins were inseparable during their time on Antar."

"Meta!" Rachael nearly exploded. "Alex's Meta?!" she looked again, pain stabbing her heart as she recalled Alex's confession of his first kiss, and the unspoken infatuation in his eyes and smile. She stared in disbelief, as a large tear rolled down her pale white cheek.

Jeremy, like the others began to drift to Meta. Becky put out an exasperated hand on his shoulder, but he simply shrugged it off and moved forward, slowly, inexorably towards the beautiful, exotic, and half-naked new girls.

Becky had eavesdropped in on Hera's explanation of the alien girls, their royal parentage, and the unbelievable connection to Zeke and his cousins. She knew it was nonsense but still she was confused and shaken. Becky looked around and saw Hera, Rachael, and Sara, like the other girls, devastated by the arrival of the extraterrestrial vixens. Becky moved close, gathered the stunned flock, and ushered them towards the exit. "We girls got to stick together," she encouraged. "Let me give you a ride home."

As they exited the door, and started down the Library steps, the four girls turned in unison and stared back as all the boys at the dance had congregated around either Ultra or Meta.

"If they want her so bad, let them have her," Becky concluded as the girls ran, tears streaking their cheeks out into the raging storm.

© 2006 Roswell the Next Chapter. Unauthorized reproduction prohibited. Any similarities to events, real or imaginary, are strictly coincidental. Roswell The Next Chapter is in no way affiliated with UPN, the WB, Regency Television, 20th Century Fox, or Jason Katims Productions.

The author wishes to give credit to RTFC for some ideas used in this episode, as well as:

.

and

.

Chapter 5: Ultimatum

by

NickMax

Edited by Candy Cane, faillow, and JennaBehr and sdcheesehead

Original Air Date: December 3, 2006

Zeke tossed and turned, thrashing from side to side in the soft white bed. His mind was torn as images flashed before him. His heart raced and he felt out of control spiraling down a long ever-shrinking tunnel.

Suddenly his vision cleared and he was sitting at the Bitter Lake Marina; Hera was at his side, gazing into the beautiful sunset. He turned, pulled her tight, and gave her a kiss. He could feel her warmth, her vitality, her regal bearing as she kissed him. He opened his eyes and saw not Hera but Ultra, dressed in a purple gauzy diaphanous gown smiling up at him.

He tore his eyes away and he was in the Explorer, Hera was sitting beside him, soaked, and solemn. She raised her hand, and then looked back in dry clothing with shoulder-length blonde curls and soft brown eyes.

"I am not who you think I am. I'm not even who I thought I was," she began, her face strained with tension.

Next she raised her hand and he dissolved, as they flew across time and space to rematerialize at the top of the bluff overlooking the lake and the Sheraton in the distance.

He again felt amazed, his mind overloaded, as he tossed in his sleep. He opened his eyes again, and his beautiful girlfriend, now a blonde, brown-eyed girlfriend, was trembling in front of him. "These powers… to change material, to apperate, they come only with royal blood."

Zeke could feel her struggle to tell him the rest, could feel her fear of his rejection and hatred, then shocked him again, as she announced, "My father is… King Khivar."

He smiled as he recalled his response, "Did you think my affections were so shallow that I could be dissuaded so easily?" he told her. "Do you not know I will always love you and we must always be together?" He pulled back and smiled down into her beautiful eyes, now glowing with happiness.

"It's you and me babe," he told her as she shifted her appearance and returned her hair to its normal dark brunette color and short cut.

Zeke awoke and smiled and knew this was not a dream. He shaded his eyes; the white drapes in the large white bedroom were pulled wide and the room was flooded with morning sunlight. In the distance, through the open hotel windows, he could see a great blue and sapphire lake below him.

He felt her next to him; she was turned away, asleep. He ran a hand through her short dark hair, along her naked shoulder, and down her long slender arm with a loving caress. Zeke's hand stopped suddenly as he stared at the gold ruby-encrusted ring on her first finger.

She roused, turned her flawless face up to his, and smiled with her glowing dark purple eyes.

"Good morning, my Prince," she purred and snuggled tight to Zeke's sheet-covered chest.

He pulled the sheet back gently, and noted, with a sigh, that he was still fully dressed. Ultra raised her lips to his, and at their touch, the events of the night before came rushing back.

The dance. The storm. Ultra and Meta's dramatic entrance. The Princess's mesmerizing presence, her declarations of love, and her stormy accusations that he had known about her return all along.

"This was a test, wasn't it!" he recalled her yelling as she moved close and stared, incensed, up into his eyes. "You wanted me to come crawling on my hands and knees halfway across the universe to my Highness, to beg for your love!" she yelled.

She had spun angrily and pointed at Hera. "You just can't keep your hands off that Antarvéian bastard long enough to see who really loves you, who would do anything for you!" she cried and took Zeke's hand.

"Her father's searching for you, using her to lure you into his trap so he can kill you," she pleaded.

Zeke, still trapped in Ultra's kiss, saw Hera turning away: but was helpless to go to her.

He could feel Ultra on the dance floor the prior night, feel her powers enveloping him: could feel her silky arms sliding around his neck, pulling him to her and kissing him with sizzling intensity.

He opened his eyes in the white bedroom as Ultra broke the kiss and smiled with a look of overwhelming love, happiness, and satisfaction. Her hair and face were perfect, and her startling purple eyes glowed with love. She giggled, moved close, and kissed him again. The two fell back as Zeke's head softly settled onto the Sheraton pillow.

Hera awoke early from a restless sleep. She swung her flannel-nightshirt covered legs out from under the covers on her four-poster bed, slipped her feet into her pink bunny-eared slippers and walked shakily to the small bathroom next to her mother's room. The illegitimate daughter of Khivar looked at her face in the mirror. Her short dark hair was mussed and her mascara tear stained. She stared at the dark lines under her tired, bloodshot green eyes.

Her mind could not release its hold on the image of Ultra, strutting across the dance floor to claim her prize. She recalled vividly the Canoian Princess's cruel accusation about Hera and her father's intent to use her to lure Zeke to his death.

"I must leave," Hera whispered to the mirror. "I must flee, leave, and never look back," she began to cry again. "It is the only way to keep my love safe," she declared.

Suddenly the image of Dakura appeared in the mirror standing behind her. Hera watched as her mother placed warm comforting hands on her shoulders and turned her.

She pulled Hera into a tight loving embrace, and could feel her daughter tremble in her arms.

"Where must you go?" Dakura asked gently, immediately suspecting that Hera and Zeke had fought.

"Father is after Zeke! He is using me to lure Zeke and his friends into his clutches so he can kill them!" Hera nearly shouted in fear and desperation.

"Who told you such nonsense?" Dakura asked sternly.

"Ultra, Princess Ultra!" she cried. "She returned last night, crashed the party at the Library. She called me a bastard, and said Khivar was using me."

"No one has heard of Khivar in years. If he was here, trying to use you or anyone else, I would know of it."

"Ultra proclaimed her love for Zeke. She said she was betrothed to Zeke: that the marriage was arranged by the great King D'tharthé," she shuttered. "I've lost him," she declared as she began to cry harder.

"There is no threat," she comforted her daughter, "at least not from your real father. The only threat is if you listen to the vicious words of a desperate debutante. She is used to waving her hand and getting whatever she wants. She tried to intimidate you, playing on your love for Ezekiel, to steal away your man," she proclaimed with irritation. "If you love him, and I know you do, you must fight for him."

"How?" Hera cried. "How do I compete with a beautiful Canoian Princess?! She is beautiful, sophisticated, and educated at the best schools! I'm just a small-town girl from the caves," she wailed.

Dakura pulled her tight and whispered, "We are from the caves, yes, but that only means we fight more tenaciously, without regard for the niceties of war. If you want him, you must be willing to say anything, do anything, to succeed."

Meta, still wearing her diaphanous harem-girl outfit sat in a large, wicker fan chair at the head of a broad glass-topped table on the Sheraton patio overlooking the lake. A tall, handsome waiter in a white dinner jacket set a selection of fresh fruit on a gold-rimmed plate before her. Another placed a freshly polished silver fork and spoon on a linen napkin beside it. A third poured hot tea into a wafer-thin china cup from a large silver urn.

Two busboys stood at attention, mesmerized by the Duchess. She lowered her ice-blue eyes at the boys and smiled shyly: they appeared ready to jump at her slightest command.

She stared out the brilliant sapphire-blue water of Bitter Lake and sighed in pleasure. Alex and Alan, like the waiters, and half the men out that morning hovered around her table. She bit into the strawberry, tasted the tea, and then raised a dismissive hand.

All but Alex and Alan were banished, forced to move back and give her the privacy she demanded. The men congregated around the edges of the patio, gawking and giggling like little boys, captivated by the Duchess's smile and the allure of her presence.

"We must return immediately," she announced to the Twins. "I won't stay another second longer than I have to on this Taur-forsaken, sorry excuse for a planet."

Alex broke through her powers and objected. "We cannot leave. We are the Knights of Antar."

"It is our duty to protect the Prince. We cannot leave him," Alan explained.

"That will not be a problem," she laughed. "Ultra is convincing your Prince at this very moment, of the benefits of returning."

She shaded her eyes and looked up to the penthouse at the top of the 30-story hotel. "Yes, I think Zeke will be more than happy to flee the savages that inhabit this hell hole, and return to our civilized world."

Meta rose, and the Twins, in jeans and T-shirts followed.

"No, this will not do," she declared as she looked at the boys.

With one wave of her hand, she changed their running shoes and jeans into black boots, tight gray leggings, and a black belt with a small knife in its black scabbard. She studied her work, and then converted the t-shirts to white lace, long-sleeve shirts. The Twins looked around wildly worrying that others would see, but the waiters and guests, as if controlled, were all staring out to the center of the lake. She grabbed Alex and Alan's hands and started towards the stairs.

"Let us walk on the beach. The dark sands remind me of home," she smiled.

She led the Twins to the set of white metal stairs that spiraled down to the shore that surrounding the dark, cold waters of the lake.

As they approached the shore, Meta raised her gauzy purple gown, and with a flick of her hand, released the gold straps that surrounded her narrow, shapely legs and kicked off her sandals. She took their hands and walked, ankle deep into the icy water. "We leave on December Fifth; if you love me, you MUST meet us at the ship," she commanded.

Alan looked shocked and turned sharply to Meta, "But, what of Sara?!"

"We can't just leave without saying goodbye," Alex interjected.

Meta looked at the Twins and saw that they really were just boys and so easy to manipulate, and tried to not to laugh. "You do not know much about Earth girls do you?"

The Twins stopped and looked at her questioningly.

"Rachael and Sara were embarrassed last night. You broke their hearts when you picked me. They will not, cannot forgive you," she explained. "Go, try if you must. But, when you picked me last night, you permanently, irrevocably destroyed any relationship that might have been developing between you and the earthlings," she counseled.

Meta knew that no self-respecting Taurian girl would ever forgive them, but Earth girls might just be stupid enough to take them back. She wanted to make sure. Then she laughed and walked with the Twins deeper into the lake's cold water.

Ultra leaned back on the white bed and smiled. She thought it was cute that her nakedness seemed to make Zeke nervous. She pulled the expensive white lace-trimmed sheet up and covered her breasts, while she ran the back of her hand along Zeke strong jaw and gazed up into his eyes. "We must return immediately," she announced. "We can activate the wormhole controls and use the ship to traverse the passage."

"The Duke has studied the star charts in the cave, and the next opening will present itself on December Fifth, the next full moon," she purred in her most convincing tone.

Zeke struggled to maintain his balance, feeling overpowered by her presence, her perfume, her soft hand caressing his cheek and the look from her mesmerizing eyes.

"But… Khivar is here on Earth," he stammered. "I cannot leave the Earth unprotected. They would be defenseless to his onslaught. It's my duty… my responsibility to stop him: otherwise we've opened a Pandora's Box of pain, suffering and subjugation."

Ultra looked at him with pride. "Sounds like something your father, King Max would say," she smiled, bent forward and kissed his surprised lips. "That's why I love you so. Not only beautiful to look at, kisses that leaves me weak… but a heart as big as the Heligan Sea."

"But, you don't understand Khivar," she continued. "He is here only because you are here. There is nothing on this worthless rock to interest him. There are no natural resources he cannot obtain closer and with much less cost and effort."

"The savages that inhabit this pathetic little planet are brutish, unsophisticated, and uncivilized," she explained. "They have no value for him." Ultra could see Zeke's rejection of her characterization, and hurried on. "Of course, there are exceptions, and I believe Heraetta, and her friends Rachael and Sara, and some of the people you've associated with in Roswell are good people," she soothed. "Leave with me now and Khivar will follow. You can save Earth."

"But," Zeke struggled to argue against her logic.

She interrupted before he could argue. "Surely my love, the ability to spare billions of earthlings the pain and suffering you fear, are incentive enough for you to return to your father, your Mother Liz, and everyone who loves you on the Five Planets," she reasoned.

But, seeing this was not the convincing story she had worked on so long, she switched to her backup argument. She took his hand in hers, slowly bent and kissed it, and then brought it up so she rested the side of her face on it, and looked up into his eyes, gazing for several seconds into his softening blue eyes.

"I know you care for Heraetta. It is not her fault; one does not select one's parents. She is a dupe, an innocent bystander being used by Khivar to lure you to your death. I'd say bring her with us, but you told me she cannot leave Earth."

Ultra tried to maintain the loving look on her face. She knew if Zeke knew the lies his little tramp was feeding him, he'd reject her in an instant! Conversion at birth… mixing of her young cells and human DNA, she nearly laughed. She knew the Antivenin's were never very clever, but thought Hera could have come up with a better story. Still she realized that no one appreciated being told they had been made a fool of, and she didn't want to be 'shot' as the barer of the bad tidings.

"I know you need to say goodbye. It will be difficult, because I know you care for her, but return to me, and your people," she begged. "Save Earth and her people," she pleaded. "The ship will depart exactly at midnight on the Fifth," she informed him as she learned forward and kissed him.

Zeke sat at the wheel of the Explorer, uncertain what he should do. Everything Ultra said had made sense. He believed her love for him was true, and she pulled at his heartstrings like no other. He believed that Khivar was here, or at least his agents were, and he and everyone on Earth were being endangered by his continued presence.

Ultra said, 'Do what your father would do,' he recalled. What would dad do? He told me to trust my heart. That I would know. Zeke stared out the windshield and saw the Twins, in dark pants and white frilly shirts walking towards him.

Father told me to picture my life without Ultra, without Hera, he mused. If I could imagine taking another breath, living another moment without one of them close to me, then she was not the one. But, I love them both. I cannot live without either! How do I decide? How do I choose?

His thoughts were interrupted as the Twins swung open the door and slid in next to him. He looked and could see the indecision in their eyes too.

"We must prepare to leave," Zeke announced.

Alex stared and swallowed hard. "Then, you've made your decision, we are returning?" He looked at his cousin and then turned to his brother, relieved that he did not have to make the decision but still shaken at the prospect of leaving Rachael, Amy, and all the others he had grown to love.

"I… I don't know. We have until the Fifth to decide, but we must put our house in order, make the preparations, so we can leave quickly if that is my decision," Zeke explained.

"I have to see Sara," Alan stated. "Meta said I broke her heart. That Earth girls would never accept the kind of pain and embarrassment we subjected them too. She said Sara could never love me again. If she is right, that will make the departure easier," he explained. "Regardless, I must apologize: try to explain."

Alex nodded, "I must talk to Rachael. I have to know if I destroyed my only chance of happiness on Earth."

Zeke started the car, and drove silently back from the lake. The mood in the Explorer was somber, and introspective. Fortunately they were not searched at the DHS checkpoint. After being scanned they were waved forward and continued on, unmolested by the security forces.

Zeke, as if driving in a dream, pulled up in front of Hera's house, directed there without conscious decision or thought. Alex and Alan jumped out.

Rachael lives a couple of blocks over, I'll walk," Alex explained. He grabbed his shoulder bag, and called back "Wish me luck" as he trotted off.

"Sara lives a mile over to the East. I'm going over there now; I can use the walk to think about what to say," he explained and started walking. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, hung his head and strove forward as if marching reluctantly into battle: a battle he knew he could not win.

Zeke stood by the SUV, uncertain what to do. He gathered his strength and turned to the short gravel walkway leading to the small covered porch in front of Hera's house. As he rounded the short bend in the path, past the large jacaranda bush, he saw Dakura sitting on the swing. Hera's mother was dressed in jeans and a UNM sweatshirt, rocking quietly, a large glass of a golden-yellow drink in her hand. She looked different, something in the eyes or the hair. He began to look closer when he was pulled up short, hearing her harsh, slurred words.

"Well, if it isn't mister high and mighty, the famous Prince of Antar," she sarcastically proclaimed. She stood, and grabbed his arm nearly dragging him away from the house. "Slumming are you my lord? Here to grace us with your regal presence?'

"I… I came to see Hera," he tentatively explained.

"Hera doesn't want to see you!" she nearly screamed in a horse whisper. "I thought you were different, but you're like all the others. You think you're special, better than the rest of us because of your royal blood. But, I can tell you, you are just a despicable, low-life rat," she spewed. "How could you break my precious daughter's heart?"

Zeke was taken aback, he knew he deserved a dressing down, and he looked back with guilt.

"I don't know why my Khivar wants you so bad. I contacted him last night, when Hera told me what you did. He's coming. He will destroy you, Earth, and everyone you love, my Prince," she raked him with her eyes.

"Khivar may be heartless, he did not treat me well, but he will not let anyone hurt his daughter," she informed him. "Run away Zeke. Save yourself, save Earth," she advised.

"Do one decent thing in your rotten, worthless life. Spare us the pain and suffering that is sure to follow, when Khivar unleashes his wrath on this poor unsuspecting planet."

Dismissing him with her outraged eyes, she started to walk back to the house. As she reached the porch, she turned sharply, and stared at him with such unbridled hatred, he shrunk back, "Do not come here again! Hera hates you, I hate you, and her father will destroy you and this planet if you stay," she declared in a cold, controlled voice filled with vitriol. "We will never, can never… forgive you. Leave… leave us in peace."

Zeke staggered back, his mind battered like he had been assaulted by a hoard of mental jackals. His shoulders slumped, as he felt defeated. He turned back and walked slowly down the path. His own heart breaking, and the tears that had welled in his eyes starting to leak down his cheeks, he trudged back to the SUV. Zeke dragged himself in and rested his head forlornly on the steering wheel. He started to cry: cry the tears of a love lost. His tortured body sagged as he recognized the 'truth' of everything Dakura had said.

Sitting alertly on the Montanan porch swing, Sabrina the tabby cat watched the Prince walk away, broken. She seemed to almost purr with satisfaction. The fluffy cat stood and looked in the window. She could see Hera and her mother, both still in night robes at the kitchen table, drinking eiffel, talking quietly. The cat stretched luxuriously, and scampered off to her next task.

Alex rounded the long pale green hedges that bounded Sara's yard. Through the leaves he could see his brother. Alan was standing at the door, facing an incensed Sara.

Alex did not want to interrupt and moved down, outside the hedgerow and approached the house from the left. He didn't really intend to eavesdrop but only wanted to support his brother. He looked through the branches and could see that Sara and Alan had moved to two chairs on the porch.

"Talk to me, Sara. I know I acted a little strange at the dance," Alan pleaded. "Meta is someone we knew on Antar. We didn't know she had come, and we were just surprised and pleased to see someone from our world."

"Do you love her? Don't lie! You owe me that much," Sara demanded, jumping from her chair to face Alan.

Alan struggled, how to say this without hurting Sara? "I care for Meta, yes. She was my first 'sorta' girlfriend," he confessed. "But, I believe she cares more for my brother than me."

"So you're saying you'd rather be with her than me, but she doesn't want you so you come here for comfort. And what do you want me to do?" Sara asked gesturing sharply to her chest. "Do you want me to take your sorry ass back, after you humiliated me in front of all my friends?" she asked in a low, angry shout.

Alan didn't know exactly how to proceed. He did want her back, but knew he was returning to Antar, and Zeke had said to set his house in order. He assumed this meant letting Sara down easy.

He started to reply, but Sara cut him off. "Well, forget it. You had your chance, and you blew it!" she exclaimed, crossing her arms over her chest. "I don't want to ever see your ugly face here again. Don't call me, don't write or email me, don't sit by me in class or in the lunchroom. I want you out of my life. You were a mistake; a sorry miserable mistake."

Sara dropped her arms and stepped close to Alan. Suddenly, without warning, she hauled back and slapped Alan hard across the face. He was thrown back and nearly toppled out of his chair, the force of her slap much more powerful than anything he could have anticipated from such a petite girl.

"You embarrassed me last night, but don't fool yourself: I never loved you," she hurled the words as if intended to hurt. "You were just a pretty boy I could use to move up the sophomore-class pecking order to land someone worthy of my affections," she declared in an angry, yet somehow impersonal tone. "Go back to Meta. You don't belong on this planet; go back and save Earth."

Alan was hurt, and tongue tied, never given a chance to apologize or tell her how he really felt.

Sara reached the door, and began to enter. Then she turned to Alan, and delivered her final order, "Go home Alan, leave me alone. Meta loves you; don't break her heart by sticking around here. Go back to your world where you belong."

Alan was stunned by her words, and the anger and the spite in which she delivered them. But, what was even more shocking was the look on Sara's face as she began to slam the door closed - he could swear he heard her purr as a broad smile crossed her face.

Alan backed out off the porch, hurt by her words and impersonal tone, and the impossible smile he thought he saw as she dismissed him.

Alan turned and saw Alex crawling through the hedge. "I heard; I guess that means she doesn't want to go the movies tonight," Alex tried to joke.

"You get a better reaction at Rachael's?" Alan asked dejectedly.

"No, I never saw Rachael, just her dad. He met me with a shotgun. Said if I ever showed up again, he'd fill me with buckshot. He looked mean, and I believe he'd do it too."

"So, you never got to apologize?" Alan asked.

"No, he wouldn't let me close to the door. Told me to not write or call, just to leave his daughter alone. Then he said something really strange."

Alan looked at his brother, his eyes encouraging him on.

"He told me to go back and love Meta, leave Earth immediately and return to the Five Planets where I belonged." Alex turned to Alan and whispered. "Then he said only I could guide the ship back through the wormhole when it departs on the Fifth."

"How did he know about the wormhole, and the Fifth?"

"Rachael must have told him," Alex replied.

"No, neither Rachael nor Sara could possibly have known about the departure or the date, we just found out ourselves."

"And, we've never told anyone about our special navigation skills: our ability to transverse the labyrinth of wormholes to reach home," Alan concluded. "There is something wrong here."

Zeke collected the boys and they scooted into the Explorer. The mood was solemn, as they compared notes. Each had been thoroughly dressed down; each had been told in no uncertain terms to stay away, leave the girls alone, and return to the Five Planets.

Alan started to tell Zeke of his suspicions, but saw his cousin was too depressed to discuss conspiracy theories. And, maybe more important, neither of the Twins had any idea what, if anything, the curious looks and odd references meant.

Zeke drove through town, past the Crashdown, past Amy's shop, and past the Library. Each looked at the sights that had become associated with home. Each knew they had no real reason to stay. No one loved them, no one would miss them, and that the longer they lingered the more they endangered the planet that they had called home. But, still they felt reluctant to be uprooted from everything and everyone they had grown to love.

Zeke headed out of town, toward their house on Sunset Place, to begin the preparations for the return. As they passed their school, all eyes turned and they looked forlornly at the light-brick building that had, in its way, become home too.

Zeke drove in silence and then pulled the large SUV expertly into the garage, and shut off the engine. As he and the Twins exited the vehicle, they heard the sound of running footsteps, turned, and saw Blanca, Cede, and Gael came rushing out of the house.

"Where have you been?!" Blanca exploded.

"We've searched everywhere," Gael explained. "Our tracking system did not reveal your location!"

"You were at the dance one moment and gone the next. We were sure Khivar or the Topolian empress had captured you," Cede cried with relief.

Zeke and the Twins began to nervously laugh. "We were captured alright, by Princess Ultra and the Duchess Meta. Somehow they whisked us away. We woke up this morning out at the Sheraton on Bitter Lake."

Blanca hugged each with a look of exasperation and relief. "We heard all about the dance. It's all everyone in town is talking about." She turned to Zeke, "Did you really blow Hera off in favor of the Princess?" she asked.

"I don't know what happened," Zeke explained. "We were at the dance and Ultra and Meta entered to the sounds of thunder and lightning. Soon Ultra was staring up at me, and then she kissed me, and… I don't remember anything more until I woke up in bed with her this morning," he explained.

The Twins' heads turned to look at Zeke; he had failed to mention the interlude in Ultra's bed. Alex explained his and Alan's adventured. "Meta took us the hotel too. We woke up in her bed, too," he looked at Blanca who was shaking her head disapprovingly. "We were still fully dressed," he added quickly in his defense. "Well, at least Alan and I were."

"She got up and insisted we go to breakfast down by the lake. Meta said we had to talk."

"She said Khivar was coming for Zeke," Alex continued. "That the only way to save ourselves and protect Earth was for us to return to the Five Planets."

"And, she said we had to return immediately! She wants us to return on December Fifth."

"She and Ultra insisted that we come with them when they open the wormhole and fly Ultra's ship back to Antar and our families," Alex clarified.

Cede asked Zeke, "What are we going to do, your Highness? Are we returning?"

"I have not made my decision; and I won't until the Fifth," Zeke stated. "For the time being, the Twins and I will continue to pretend to be normal high-school kids attending a normal New Mexico high school."

"What would be the point of going back to West Roswell… if… we're… really leaving?" Alan asked.

"And what about the dance?" Alex asked. "Everyone heard Ultra talking about the ships, the voyage, Taur, Antar and Cano, and Kings, Queens and Princes," he sputtered. "How can we go back to school? What would we say?"

Zeke looked blank, but Blanca jumped in with an idea, "Tell them it was all a joke." She looked at the boys.

"Tell them the girls were hired by the band to make a dramatic entrance when 'First' played their theme song," Gael offered.

Zeke nodded, "Some may question us, but if we keep to our story we'll be okay."

"More importantly, what do we do about the girls?" Alex asked. He turned to Blanca to explain, "After we left Ultra and Meta, we drove back into town and tried to talk to Hera, Rachael, and Sara."

"They made it pretty clear, they wanted nothing to do with us," Alan explained. "But, we're in some of the same classes; it'll be impossible to avoid them."

"I know it's going to be rough," Blanca advised. "Just try to stay out of their way and don't try to corner them and explain. Give them some space and some time. I've watched Earth girls for years since father and my sisters first landed. The girls will be upset," she looked at each of the boys, "you blew them off big time in front of all their friends. They'll be mad, and may refuse to talk to you. But, give them a little time, and they'll come around."

"Do we want them to come around?" Alan asked. "If we're really leaving on the Fifth, wouldn't it be kinder to just cut the cord and let them get over us. I'm struggling to adjust to the idea of no Sara in my life… seeing me with Meta again; I'm not sure my heart could survive a make-up with Sara only to have it crushed next week when we depart."

"If our future is Ultra and Meta, wouldn't re-engaging them now be deceiving Hera, Rachael and Sara? That's not right." Alex declared.

"Maybe not," Blanca considered. "And, I'm not proposing you promise your undying love and then blast off next week, however, they do deserve an explanation."

Zeke and the Twins pulled into the West Roswell high school parking lot Monday morning. They climbed out and started walking in with the other kids.

Zeke scanned the area, pretending to be looking for danger, but was really searching for Hera. He could see the Twins doing the same thing. They did not see any of the three as they entered the school, but they saw plenty of kids pointing and talking.

"Remember, it was just a joke, arranged by the band," Zeke whispered to them as they turned towards their lockers.

Zeke collected his morning books and was just entering his home room when he caught sight of Hera and Rachael entering the front doors. He stared with longing, but saw only hurt and anger in their eyes. He turned with slumped shoulders and entered the room as the first bell rang.

The morning dragged on and Zeke and the boys met at their table in the corner after third period for lunch. The table seemed empty without the smiling faces of their girlfriends. The boys kept their heads low as they ate, trying to deflect the stares and fingers being pointed in their direction.

"Did you talk to Sara?" Zeke asked Alan.

"Yes, she cornered me after second period. Read me the riot act. I tried to explain why we had to leave, but she cut me off and didn't give me a chance to say another word," he moaned.

"Just like at her house," Alex concluded.

"No, not the same," he confided with a deep sadness. "This Sara was emotional, she cried; I could tell I really hurt her. The Sara I met at her house was just this impersonal 'thing' heaping abuse on me."

"She's had time to think, and grieve," Zeke explained. "Right after the dance, she was angry and feeling the need to strike out and hurt you as you had hurt her," he added.

Alan took a drink of milk and considered. "Returning to school was a mistake. I could have left the Sara I met at her house, and returned to Antar, with a clear heart," Alan noted as he shook his head. "Leaving this Sara, the girl I had learned to love, is tearing me apart. I'm going to call Blanca to have her pick me up. I'm not coming back." He stood and walked out of the lunch room.

Alex jumped up and stared to follow his brother. "I have to go too," he announced. Then he stepped back to Zeke and bent so he could speak privately. "Rachael told me to leave her alone. She said she would never speak to me again, and I could have accepted that, under the circumstances, but the look in her eyes… the tears. I could tell that with the slightest move on my part she would have forgiven me."

"I just wanted to hold her, and make her feel better. I can't do it. I can't stand the thought of hurting her all over again… and if I stay… that will only make it worse when we leave, so I'm going back home too, and wait for the departure."

Zeke struggled through the rest of the day, fending off questions about the two exotic girls at the dance, and the very public breakup. Becky McCoy was particularly unpleasant, berating him for not apologizing like her Jeremy had.

He left school, and walked with his head down to the SUV. He knew the Twins were right, returning was a mistake.

He stared at his ignition key and prepared to leave when he saw Hera running in his direction. Her eyes flashed with anger and he powered down his window and prepared to receive his lambasting.

"Were you just going to leave, run away like the Twins, run like little spoiled boys? Were you going to ignore me like the Twins ignored Rachael and Sara? Were you not even going to speak to me?!" Hera yelled into the open window.

"My mother said if I loved you, I must fight for you," she exclaimed. "Well, I'm not so sure you're worth fighting for. Maybe you should just run off to you Princess and hightail it back to Antar. I'll never be good enough for your royal, stuck up family," she cried as tears began to fill her eyes.

"What are you talking about?!" he exclaimed, feeling attacked and becoming angry too. "The Twins went to the girl's houses. Rachael's dad threatened to shoot Alex if he even so much as spoke to her, and Sara ripped into Alan, nearly throwing him off her porch. She said she never loved him, was just using him, to jockey up to someone more worthy."

"Well, I don't know about that, but how about me? We're you even going to tell me you were leaving?! I had to learn it from Sara," she cried.

"Your mother read me the riot act when I came to apologize. She told me you hated me, and to never talk to you again. She said she called your daddy, and old Khivar is rushing home to protect his precious daughter and wipe me and Earth off the map."

"Dakura was drunk on m'alwe, but I could tell she meant every word of it," he angrily explained. "Your mom told me, and this is a direct quote: 'Do one decent thing in your rotten, worthless life. Spare us the pain and suffering that is sure to follow, when Khivar unleashes his wrath on this poor unsuspecting planet.' "

Hera was stunned, her eyes open in surprise. "No… mother… never…"

"I can see you feel the same way. Well, if that's what you want, I'll make you happy and stop bothering you and go back! Have a good life Hera," he yelled as he started the car.

His body shook, and he stared at his love, knowing it might the last time he could look into her beautiful eyes.

"Know this," he whispered as she stood helpless before him, frozen in stunned silence. "I loved you. I would never have left without you," Zeke's voice shook, as tears of frustration and hurt ran down his face. He slammed the car in gear, and nearly ran Hera over as he rushed down the parking lot, wildly maneuvering around the other cars, over the curb, across the grass and onto the highway with squealing tires.

That night and the next day were dreadful. Zeke and the Twins moped around the house, bored, angry, and permanently upset. They tried calling home, but could never make contact. It seemed time barely crept by, and at the same time, the pain of separation increased as the Fifth approached. Zeke spoke to his mother, and while Tess was sympathetic, she refused to return to Antar – her life was now with Jean Claude and Earth.

Late on the Fourth, Zeke was alone inside the temperature-control bubble erected over the Olympic-sized pool. He swam, long frantic strokes, trying to tire himself so he could fall asleep. Exhaustion was the only route, otherwise, his mind wandered all night.

The Twins had followed his example and swam until their bodies ached. They had crept off for their own rooms only moments before. He was now alone, and decided to immerse himself in the hot tub before retiring.

He exited the pool, and the water fell down his strong, muscled chest, across his red boxer-style swim suit, and down his powerful legs. Zeke walked the short distance, and lowered his aching body into the steaming water.

As he broke the water, and opened his eyes, he looked into Ultra's glowing eyes and smiling face.

"Got room for me," she asked in her soft sexy voice, as she pushed off the opposite wall and wrapped her naked arms around his neck and stared into his eyes.

"Did you miss me?" she asked.

Zeke did miss her, did miss her smiling face, and the look of love and acceptance that so contrasted with all the other girls in his life. He did not resist as she moved closer and kissed him.

Zeke nearly succumbed to her wiles, and was near losing himself in her kiss, but at the last moment, he broke the kiss to regain control. She snuggled close, and he could feel her naked body, warm, and velvety smooth next to his bare chest.

"Do you have any news of Khivar," he sputtered desperate to slow the pace.

She looked at her Prince, and could see the reservation in his eyes, and immediately knew the source of his reluctance to proceed.

"Khivar is searching, even as we speak," she said. "His agents have infiltrated into the highest reaches of all the Earth's government. It is only a matter of time before they locate you. And when he does, Khivar will bring all his power into eliminating you and all your friends."

"I don't have any choice, do I?" he asked. "I must return."

"Staying, to be with Hera, and endangering billions of innocent earthlings is not the choice a wise sovereign would make. Do what your great father would do," she begged. "My father told me once that sometimes you have to make great personal sacrifices for the good of your planet."

Zeke nodded, aware this was the only sensible course of action.

"I know it is hard, but to spare Earth of Khivar's wrath, we must leave now. Departure on the Fifth is not a direct shot to Antar, but it is too dangerous to stay on Earth until next June, for the new moon on the 15th.

"Is leaving, going with me, so terrible," she kidded, and kissed him again.

Then she turned serious, snuggling close and capturing Zeke's eyes. "I love you," Ultra softly whispered. "Make me the one, put me first. Fulfill the prophecy, marry me so we may rule as it is has been ordained by the stars!" she pleaded before she pressed her lips against his and began to giggle as the two sunk down below the water.

December Fifth opened ominously. Hera awoke in a sweat, her mind ringing with the face of Ultra lecturing her. She ran to the bathroom and splashed water on her face and closed the door. She looked in the mirror and shook as she recalled the dream.

Hera was back on Antar, poking her head out of a deep, dank cave. She looked up at the blazing sun bearing down on her and the dry, barren desert. She caught motion in her peripheral vision, and turned sharply.

Ultra, looking cool and comfortable in a ceremonial Canoian outfit stood at the cave entrance and called her out. Hera tentatively moved forward, her hair flat and dirty, her face thin and covered in a layer of dust. She curtseyed to the Princess, and looked embarrassed as she viewed her ragged, crudely stitched, animal-skin covering.

"Prince Ezekiel does not love you, my child," Ultra proclaimed in a condescending tone. "He was sent back to save Earth from an invader from our galaxy. He only paid attention to you to draw out the evil King Khivar. As soon as he finds your father, and slays the evil lord, he will rush back to me."

"He will always place me first," Ultra declared. "I am his betrothed. Our union was brokered by none other than King D'tharthé, and my grandfather Uric O'Bryan. It is prophesized: he is the son of Zan and I am the daughter of Larek. Our destiny is to rule the Five Planets; make no mistake; he will sit on the throne with a princess at his side."

Hera objected, "No, Zeke loves me."

"That well may be; he is weak, and his heart is big – he is easily drawn to charity cases. But, he has a duty to his people and to his father. He is destined to rule. And who will sit at his side? You?" the Princess asked.

"Yes, I could be his queen, my blood is as royal as yours," Hera argued.

"An Antarvéian?! You're not even Khivar's legitimate daughter, only his bastard child. You have no claim to his bloodline. And, even if you did, do you want people to know you are related to Khivar, the tyrant that tortured his people for sixty years. Could they ever accept you sitting on their throne?" she asked and then shook her head a sad no.

"I think not," she stated as she began to laugh, looking pitilessly down at Hera who shrank before the Princess, slowly sinking into misery.

The day continued to deteriorate. The town was shrouded in a gray ground fog that blanketed all of Roswell. A truck entering town veered off the road and crashed into an electric transformer knocking out power in the western section of town. School was closed leaving Hera with the entire day to brood about Zeke and the dream.

Later she reported for work at the Crashdown for her normal evening shift. Even now, near 2200 hours, the restaurant was packed and a line still waited outside for a table.

Hera had taken all the orders from the diners in her section and was waiting for their food orders to come up. She took the opportunity to slip into the rear booth, beside Rachael and Sara. Both girls looked uneasy, torn, and unsure.

"Has your father settled down," Hera asked Rachael, trying to make small talk until Jeff set her plates up on the delivery counter.

"Settled down, what are you talking about?" she asked.

"Zeke said that when Alex came to your house, the day after the dance, Jackson met him at the door with a shotgun," she laughed. "He threatened to shoot him, if he ever came around again."

"That's impossible, dad doesn't own a shotgun," she explained as a confused look covered her face. "And we weren't even at home. I spent the night and the following day at Sara's because dad was called in for some emergency at the factory."

Hera shook her head in surprise. "Zeke said he came to my house, and my mom threatened him too," Hera explained. "He said my mom told him I didn't love him and for him to go back to Antar with Ultra," she confided. "But, that couldn't have happened. My mom was sick all day, and never left the house. I stayed with her, fixing herbal tea and eiffel!"

The two girls looked at Sara, now seeing a suspicious pattern. Hera asked, "Did you slip out to talk to Alan when he came to your house?"

"Came to my house?" Sara responded, looking confused.

"Zeke told me you ripped into him pretty good when Alan came to apologize. And that you told him you never loved him, and was just using him to find someone better."

"I never saw Alan until I met him at school on Monday," Sara said. "I was mad and hurt; I admit it, I tore in to him a little, but he deserved it. Then, he looked at me with those big puppy-dog eyes that melted my heart. I thought he wanted to kiss me, he moved towards me, but then, he turned around and moped away. I haven't seen or heard from him since."

Hera looked at Rachael, and then Sara, unsure if it was safe, or prudent to bring Sara into the 'I know an alien' club. Rachael nodded, and Hera moved close and whispered. "Sara, are you a screamer? Can I tell you something, something so impossible and so outrageous that it is totally unbelievable: something that most people would respond to by running, shouting, and screaming out into the street?"

Sara looked brave and whispered back. "My dad's in the military. We were in DC, where he was stationed at the Pentagon, until his transfer to Holloman Air Force Base last year. He's told me some things that are pretty unbelievable; I think I can handle anything you can throw at me."

Hera extended her hand and placed it over Sara left hand. The clear nail polish on Sara's short, nail-bitten fingers turned to a vibrant red and the nails grew a quarter inch before her eyes. Sara looked at the nails with a startled, eyes popping stare and started to scream. Rachael clamped a hand over the girl's mouth and shook her head.

"You mean," Sara hoarsely squeaked as she regained control, "Everything they were saying at the dance… it wasn't just a prank by the band?"

"That's right, there are aliens in this town, and I'm one of them," Hera announced. "And your boyfriend, he's a little green around the gills too, if you know what I mean."

Sara looked to Rachael, her eyes opening wide as she wordless asked her friend's status.

"No, I'm all human," Rachael replied with a laugh. "But, I knew about Zeke and the Twins, and their 'special status,' before Alex and I entered our relationship. This is a little unfair to you – to find out on the day of his departure."

"Wait," Hera demanded. "Something is going on here: something is wrong. Zeke and the Twins spoke to someone, someone who told them a bunch of lies."

"That someone," Rachael realized "could be lying about the threat from Khivar, too."

Sara looked blank.

"Hera's dad, the king… King Khivar," Rachael explained.

"He's supposed to be on the warpath, looking to string Zeke up by the balls for messing with his daughter," she explained to Sara. "But, Mrs. M said that is a crock of…"

"Shape shifters!" Hera interrupted Rachael, as it dawned on her.

She turned to Sara to explain, "People who can change their entire appearance, voice, mannerisms, to masquerade as someone else. A shapeshifter could have intercepted the boys and told them that we did not love them…"

"In order to convince them to return," Rachael added.

"To lure them into a trap, and kill them," Sara concluded. "What are we waiting for? We have to get out to Alan's! I have to tell him I love him, that I never said those nasty things!"

"But, we don't have a car!" Rachael wailed. She turned to Hera, "Your mom had to work late again, so that won't help. My dad's at the factory: it'd take him hours to get here and pick us up. By then it'd be too late."

"My mom is at work, and my dad is overseas again," Sara explained. "I don't think mom would believe me if I told her she had to rush to the Crashdown so I could borrow the car to zoom off to stop my alien boyfriend from blasting off into outer space in his flying saucer," she nervously laughed.

"There is another way," Hera announced as she got up to lead them towards the back room.

Suddenly the front door opened, and Jim Valenti strolled in and headed for an open spot at the bar. But, he took one look at the girls and knew something was up. He moved to their side and whispered, "What's wrong, ladies? Is there anything I can do?"

"Yes!" Hera exclaimed, as she took off her alien-head apron and her silver bobble-head tiara and dropped them on the table.

"The Twins needs us, they're about to make a terrible mistake," Rachael added. "Drive us out to their place immediately… before it is too late!"

Jim hearing that the concern was about the Twins was reluctant to proceed. He was still unsure of Alex and Alan. While he believed they were not of this Earth, he did not believe they had leveled with him. There were still too many unanswered questions about them and their connection to his missing son.

Hera could see his reservation and moved close to Jim, "They need their grandfather tonight more than any other night since they returned," she pleaded.

He turned and looked at Hera with a startled glare. Without waiting for his acceptance, she and the other girls turned Jim and marched him towards the door and his truck.

Jeff Parker spotted them leaving and ran out of the kitchen yelling. "Hera, where are you going?! Your station's full and we've got people waiting. Come back her right this minute young lady!"

Hera looked back, scrunched her shoulders in a 'can't talk now manner.'

"You take one step out that door and you're fired," Jeff yelled.

Hera mouthed "Sorry," as she and her friends disappeared out of the door.

Ultra sat on a large rock outside the cave. Her hair was now black, her face darkened, and her eyes colored deep brown. She sat shivering in the cold, even though she was dressed in the thick wool Mesaliko dress, and had the Canoian shawl drawn around her shoulders.

The tall, slender Duchess paced impatiently in front of the boulder that normally blocked the entrance to the wormhole controls and looked at her friend.

"Why are you dressed like that?" she asked, irritated.

"River Dog said it would bring luck," she replied. "Change too, for me," she begged.

Meta shook her head in annoyance, but raising her eyes to the moon above, shrugged and again transformed into an Indian maiden. Her hair and complexion were now dark and her body was wrapped in a simple native dress. The only aspect she left unchanged was her ice blue eyes.

She removed her gold Rolex watch. The full moon provided ample light for her to read the time. She stared and saw it was 2345 hours.

"I can't believe this! They are not coming, are they!" she wailed in self-pity. "If they don't love me enough to show up on time, then to Hades with them!" she declared. "The ship leaves at midnight, with or without them."

"But," Ultra objected, "Without the Twins, we won't be able to navigate the wormhole labyrinth."

"What do they know, they are just boys. Anything they can do, I can do better," she nearly yelled in frustration. "How hard can it be?"

"I guess Zeke chose Heraetta," Ultra spoke softly to herself. "He said he loved me, and I know he does, but she must have a stronger hold on his heart," Ultra stated, trying to brace herself for the heartache all over again.

"The Twins love you Meta, they would have come, but they could not leave the Prince. It is their duty to obey and protect his Highness."

Meta stared up at the moon, and shook her head. "This is just not possible. I took care of everything. Zeke should be here. I told him that Hera does not love him."

"He would never believe you," Ultra laughed but without mirth.

"I didn't tell him, Dakura did," she explained.

Ultra stood and walked to her best friend and turned the Duchess to her. "What did you do, Meta?"

"I impersonated the old witch," she laughed. "I laid it on thick: told him that Hera despised him and to get his ass back to Antar. I even threatened to have old Khivar materialize and wipe out Earth if he lingered. He had no reason to stay, and every reason to return."

Meta saw the disapproving look in her friend's eyes.

"I am not as trusting as you. I know you cannot lie. But, love can be fickle; I left nothing to chance. After Hera, I shifted into Rachael's dad, and Sara. I 'explained' the situation, and made it clear that the boys must return to Antar with us."

"Just what did you say?" Ultra demanded.

Meta returned her glare, "Well, I embellished it a little. I had the girls tell Alan and Alex that they hated them, could never love them: had only played with their affections. It should have worked. They should be here!"

Ultra looked stricken. "They must have discovered your lies. That is the only reason for their absence. They'll be pissed off to no end. To say they'll be hurt, betrayed, and devastated is an understatement. They will never forgive us. They hate being lied too."

"You should have trusted in love, like I did. Now you have doomed our future, and the future of this planet. Khivar will surely come, and destroy anything and everything to find the Royal Four. He will use Zeke to lead him to them.

"Khivar is real? I thought he was dead," she cried in exasperation: "All the more reason for them to return."

Meta took one last look down the trail and shook her head. "I'm going back in; blast off time is only minutes away. We can wait no longer or we'll be stuck on this worthless rock for another six months," she declared as she cast the Rolex into the bushes and headed for the ship.

The Duke stood by the cave entrance and listened. He knew the departure was near and realized the boys were not coming. Removing the small time-shift orb from his pocket he studied its brilliant blue glow. Sensing that it might be critical to the Prince's survival, he allowed it to float up from his hand. The sphere hovered for a second, and then drifted down to a position near the entrance; as it touched the sandy floor the glowing orb pulsed twice and then the its internal light was extinguished. The Duke took one last look, walked to the side of the ship, and was transported inside.

As he moved down the passageway to Madam Téso he spotted the girls beside the controls. He looked to Ultra who nodded sadly and then he hit the large green button to initiate the computer-controlled lift off. Placing a comforting arm around his daughter and with Madam Téso comforting Ultra, the four stood forlornly watching the timer count down. As the moment of liftoff approached, and the sound of the ship's engines rose to a crescendo, Ultra cupped her hands to her ears.

With only seconds to go, Ultra stopped suddenly. "There're here, I can hear them calling."

"It's too late," Meta screamed over the rising engine noise. "We can't stop the sequence so close to lift off."

"I can stop the ship. We can't leave with them at the door!"

"No, not without me, don't leave…"

Suddenly Ultra raised her right hand. All action slowed sharply and then stopped as she froze time. She looked at her friend, her words frozen in mid-sentence.

"I'll be back, we have all the time in the world," she laughed and rushed back through the ship and hurried to the transport station and was beamed to the surface in a brilliant blue flash. She ran to the edge and looked down over the ravine, her eyes wide with excitement and her face painted with a broad smile. She felt fulfilled knowing Zeke had chosen her, had come to complete her.

She searched, straining her vision in every direction, but the smile on her face began to fade as it soon became clear that it was a false alarm, her mind playing tricks on her, and that her Prince had not come.

She did not look up to the top of the cliff overlooking the cave. She did not see the dark figure with his long straight nose, narrow lips under a thick dark goatee staring down at her. His cruel green eyes glowed in the night sky as he smiled, and wrapped his long dark royal cape around his shoulders.

Despondent, her eyes filled with tears, she turned and began to climb back to the ship. Her vision blurred, she did not see the tree root that suddenly appeared on the shadow-darkened trail. She tripped and fell forward. Her hands went out to soften the fall, but in the dark she misjudged the edge of the trail and her head hit a large rock that had not been there when she left the ship.

The violent contact shook her body, knocking her unconscious. Time no longer controlled, the clock restarted.

The ship rose up twenty feet and paused as it hovered. Then with a brief flash of brilliant blue light from the transport system, Meta leaped to the Earth determined to not abandon her friend. The ship rose tremulously upwards heading towards the moon. As it floated silently up, a large black undulating hole appeared in the night sky. The edges of the hole crackled with mini explosions as matter particles disintegrated. Light from the moon was bent too, and there was a rotating flurry of activity at the edges of the vortex. The boundary between Earth and this portal to the other galaxies glowed red, yellow and purple as matter was torn apart by the crushing gravitational field. The area behind the opening to the hole in the sky was pitch-black.

Below on the Reservation, the mountains were bombarded with a loud sucking sound as the dark, gaping hole in the sky drew in the atmosphere and nearby clouds.

The ship, silhouetted by the moon, rose slowly, and finally entered the black disk. Moments later the hole began to collapse, shrink, and finally disappear.

The entire event from the ship rising, the hole opening, and its disappearance only took a few minutes. Most observers on Earth, even if they happened to look at the full moon that night would have missed this most extraordinary event.

However, the air defense system that blankets the United States does not randomly observe the sky. The ship's cloaking device was not activated, and was clearly visible on radar screens at observation stations across the Southwest.

The closest military installation with jet fighters was Hill Air Force Base. Instructions were transmitted, and moments after the Starship arose from its lair in the Mesaliko Reservation, five F-16 jets were scrambled. The NSA in DC issued a command, and a dozen satellite cameras were trained on the unidentified ship.

This unusual jet traffic was also noted by KSLC News Department, and an alert was immediately sent out. The Salt Lake City station technicians tracked the jets and the station manager alerted every ABC affiliate along the anticipated flight path. Reporters flew out of their offices and headed for their news choppers hoping to catch the action live.

Chuck Crash and his cameraman ran to the roof of the KROZ TV4 building and stared up into the night sky above Roswell. They saw the UFO rising up, silhouetted against the brilliant glowing white moon. The reporter began a live report. His cameraman zoomed in and captured a clear view of the circular flying saucer, with the upraised center observation platform, as the ship floated up. The moon's rays clearly illuminated the ship's metallic surface as its image was broadcast live across the nation.

Moments later they were amazed as a black disk appeared, opened, and expanded in the sky. They watched spellbound as the ship rose steadily towards it. The reporter's words were nearly drowned out by the loud sucking sound that came from the sky as the wormhole entrance stabilized. He continued to shout his descriptions of the otherworldly event over the noise, as the UFO shot up towards the hole.

Suddenly the large silver blue ship was swallowed up, and then disappeared. He turned to his cameraman, stunned by the sudden silence. The two looked at each other, their veins pumping with adrenalin, and their hearts nearly beating out of their chests. They began to smile, and then started to laugh uncontrollably with a mixture of relief and excitement.

Captain Lansing was the duty officer in the Hill AFB control room on this extraordinary evening. He watched with the other service men as the jets shot up toward the unknown vessel. But, before the F-16's could engage the enemy, the unknown ship flew into the disk, and moments later it and the disk suddenly disappeared.

"What was that, Captain?!" his staff sergeant urgently asked.

"I have no idea, Sergeant," he honestly replied shaking his head. "Get me DHS on the horn, STAT."

© 2006 Roswell the Next Chapter. Unauthorized reproduction prohibited. Any similarities to events, real or imaginary, are strictly coincidental. Roswell The Next Chapter is in no way affiliated with UPN, the WB, Regency Television, 20th Century Fox, or Jason Katims Productions.

The author wishes to give credit to RTFC for some ideas used in this episode.

Chapter 6: Healing

by NickMax

Edited by Candy Cane, faillow, JennaBehr and sdcheesehead

Original Air Date: December 19, 2006

The moon shone down brightly on the Watergate Condominiums situated above the Potomac River in Washington, DC. In an expensively decorated bedroom located on the top floor of the large modern structure, a telephone clattered loudly.

The ringing woke Congressman Joe Cinnati, the senior Congressman from New Mexico and the chairman on the committee that oversaw the Bureau of Indian Affairs. He arose on one elbow and stared sleepily at the glowing digital alarm clock which read 0317. The ringing stopped, and he flopped back into his king-size bed. His wife was back in Albuquerque campaigning for his re-election, allowing him and his Executive Secretary, Delores, to spend an intimate night alone in the Congressman's bed.

He turned and gazed down at the beautiful young woman sleeping contentedly under his expensive silk sheets. He moved a hand along Delores sleek coal-black hair, down her strong jaw, and along her deeply tanned neck and shoulders. She awoke as his hand slid lower under the sheets. Delores suppressed a moment of unguarded revulsion and quickly painted on a smile as she stared up at him. He bent and kissed her, as his Blackberry began to ring: two short buzzes followed by a beat and then two buzzes.

He had decided to ignore it and was kissing her neck, when she pushed him back and pointed at the combination mobile phone and personal assistant. "That's your urgent ring tone," Delores said. "Only a half a dozen people know that number; it's got to be important – maybe news about one of your committee investigations."

Joe knew he would never change her mind, and the sooner he took care of the call, the sooner he could return to a more interesting 'investigation.' He hefted his large overweight frame from the bed and lumbered to the desk by the window as his Secretary pulled on a sheer robe decorated with Navajo embroidery that barely hid her slender, naked frame. She opened her laptop and began a quick search of the news services.

The moonlight poured in through the blinds as the Congressman picked up the buzzing device. "This is Cinnati. This had better be good, calling after 3 AM," he gruffly barking into the device.

"Congressman Cinnati, this is John Hammond, Washington Post," a young impersonal voice projected from the phone. "I apologize for waking you, but we're going to press in a few minutes, and my editor wanted to give you an opportunity to comment."

"Comment?" the Congressman asked lamely.

Before he could say another word, Delores slid onto his lap and showed him the CNN site and the breaking news of the Starship that had just blasted out of the New Mexico's Alamogordo Mountains. They read quickly, grasping the fact that a mysterious UFO, captured live on TV and clearly identified as a flying saucer, had blasted off only hours ago from his home state. In addition, the departure site had, apparently, been in the middle of the Checkerboard Reservation, filled with his primary constituency: Hopi, Navajo, and Mesaliko Indians.

"My God, Antarvé was right!" he whispered to himself. "It really happened… just like he said. I just wish he had told me which night."

Cinnati collected himself, thought quickly, and followed the story he had prepared – he smiled knowing that it pays to plan ahead. He had a hunch Mr. Antarvé was more than an eccentric admirer when he contributed a half million dollars to his reelection kitty. The look in Antarvé's eyes, were spooky. And even though he was spouting nonsense, Cinnati sensed there just might be an element of truth in his fantastic predictions.

"Excuse me John; I was on a call to my home state and the BIA, the Bureau of Indian Affairs. Naturally, I intend to commence an immediate Congressional Investigation of this glorious night. As you know, John, Navajo mythology is filled with references to otherworldly visitors, what we call the 'Ancients,' who have visited our people throughout the ages. It appears one of their ships stopped to consult with our elders. My people have long known that New Mexico is the spiritual center of the planet. I believe the fact that the 'Visitors' chose the 'Land of Enchantment' to visit, rather than DC, demonstrates our intergalactic prominence as well."

"Then you disagree with the DHS representative that interpreted this as a serious breach of our air space security and a prologue to another terrorist attack," John inquired. He desperately needed something, a little controversy or an outrageous quote, to spark his 'Congress-Reaction' side story.

Before he could quell his excitement, the Congressman spurted out what he really thought. "If the idiots in the DHS can't tell the difference between the greatest night in Earth's history, the delivery of concrete proof of extraterrestrial life, that we are not alone in the Universe - and a terrorist attack, then I think we need new leadership at the top of that organization. I plan to commence an investigation into that too!"

"Thank you Congressman Cinnati, I think I have my headline: 'Congress to Investigate Idiots at DHS,' " the reporter quoted and then hung up.

Delores had turned on CNN, watching the replay of the ascension picture. She looked back at her boss in shock. Maybe the old slob had finally stuck his foot in too far, criticizing the all-powerful DHS. But then she saw the confident look in Cinnati's face and knew, like always, he would find a way to turn an incautious slip into a PR windfall. She watched as the Congressman stared at the TV a moment, and then punched in a speed dial number to place another call.

"Profen, you watching this spaceship crap on the TV?"

"Yes Sir, Congressman," Profen, the head of the Southwest Bureau of Indian Affairs office, answered.

"Get someone down to all the reservations in the area immediately. I just got a call from a reporter at the Post. I don't think DHS can be trusted, so I need my BIA people on the site."

"I'll send Chee; he's our best investigator," Profen offered.

"No, not Chee. I've heard about him: straight arrow, not a team player. No, I need someone who might be willing to break a few rules to get the information I need to manage this situation."

"I know just the guy," the BIA manager stated. "His wife's family is Mesaliko."

"Good. Get him down there now. I want a report by 10 DC time, Profen. Call me at the office," Cinnati barked and pressed the end button on his phone.

Profen considered for a moment, uncertain if he should take the risk, and then dialed. After 10 rings, a sleepy hung-over male voice answered. "Yeah."

"Black Crow, this is Profen. Get down to the Mesaliko reservation and check out the situation," he ordered. "The media think ET just blasted off from the Alamogordo Mountains. DC called in a panic. I'm sending 'trusted' agents to each of the Reservations in the vicinity. Head down to Roswell and see if anyone knows anything. We may need your 'special' talents on this.

Black Crow listened, and tried to pry his eyes open after only 2 hours of sleep and drinking two six packs of beer.

"BC, don't screw this up, and maybe I can get you reinstated - back full time," Black Crow's boss cautioned.

"I'm on it Chief, you can count on me," Black Crow responded and then hung up.

The suspended BIA agent, 27, handsome in a rakish way, square jawed, with black hair pulled back in a short ponytail smiled at the phone. He pulled a gray t-shirt over his broad shoulders and barrel chest, and then slid on socks, jeans, and his new pointy-toed rattlesnake-skin boots. He pulled his service revolver and holster out of a small cabinet and tightened the belt around his waist before putting on his BIA jacket and hat.

Then he moved to another section of the small trailer and quietly sat down on the bunk beside his 10-year old son. He shook the boy's shoulders until the rough looking, dark-skinned youth woke.

"Silver Eagle, I got to run down to Roswell to do a job." The boy seemed to want to fall back asleep, and Black Crow shook the boy's shoulder again. "Sam, I need you to take care of your brother. I'll be back late," he whispered.

"Did you get any milk and cereal?" Sam asked, irritated at being woken in the night and the prospect of being deserted for days again. "Since mom took off last year, there's never anything in the house to eat," he complained. "You said you'd find some stupid squaw to take care of this rat hole," he challenged, smelling the strong odor of stale beer on his father's breath.

"Don't give me no lip, boy, or I'll take my belt to you again," Black Crow warned. "Take the shotgun and shoot something. You're a Navajo. A warrior. A survivor," he suggested sternly as he rose. "I got to go," he added as he ruffled the boy's hair. Black Crow leaned over Sam, and kissed the head of his still sleeping 8-year old son and walked to the door.

He shakily climbed down the stairs and started his old ramshackle Chevy half-ton pickup truck. Black Crow had completely forgotten his children and his long-lost wife: his entire focus was on the job ahead. He popped the tab on another Budweiser as he pulled away from the small aluminum-skinned travel trailer. The rays from the full moon were so bright he did not need his headlights to navigate down the steep dirt trail that led to the mountain road and the two-hour drive on 285-South to Roswell.

Amy parked her Jetta in the slot behind her shop, walked up the ally, and started across the street to the Crashdown for her morning coffee. She was amazed at the sight. The street was lined with official looking cars, SUVs, and large Suburban vans. TV technicians were setting up their mobile broadcast vans and reporters and cameramen milled around impatiently waiting to deliver on-site updates.

Amy approached the restaurant and saw there was a long line of tourists, spectators, blue clad DHS officials, local sheriff deputies, and black-suited FBI agents waiting in line. The double doors opened as four agents exited and she spotted Jeff. He stared back with a look of excitement and stepped out and pulled her in, seating her in a recently vacated chair at the counter.

"What's going on Jeff?" she asked as she stared in bewilderment at the assortment of lawmen and tourists flooding the restaurant.

"Salvation," Jeff exclaimed with a smile as he filled her cup with coffee.

"What?" Amy asked.

"You don't know?" he asked in amazement.

"No, I just came over for a shot of Java and I was accosted by this FOP convention," Amy explained.

"Roswell's been invaded," Jeff responded with a broad smile.

"I can see that," Amy observed as she swung the stool around and stared at the throngs at the door and all the full tables. "But, what's with all the boys in black? FBI holding their Christmas party at the Crashdown?" she laughed.

Nancy came out of the kitchen with a large serving tray and handed out greasy sandwiches, fries, onion rings, and coffee to a short male UFOologist and his mousey bleach-blonde girlfriend sitting in the rear booth.

Nancy slipped behind the counter and started to fill customer's coffee cups. She heard Amy's question and moved over as she refilled Amy's cup. "Haven't you been watching the TV? Roswell's been really 'invaded,' " she laughed and pointed her first finger up to the sky. "Last night a space ship blasted off somewhere out there in the mountains."

Jeff lowered his voice and bent towards Amy, "We're going to make a fortune. If I had more waitresses, I'd keep this place open 24/7."

"You should have thought about that before you fired Hera," Nancy acidly commented.

Amy turned to Jeff in amazement. "You fired Hera? I thought she was like, your best worker," Amy asked.

"She was," Nancy testily answered.

"Look, she just dropped everything and ran out of here with Jim and her friends last night. What was I supposed to do?" Jeff countered. "I told her if she left, she was fired."

Amy stopped short and grabbed Jeff's arm. "Wait, Jim and Hera rushed out of here, and a few hours later a space ship blasted off…" She reached in her purse and pulled out her cell phone and hit the first speed dial number. After no answer, the blood slowly draining from her face, she turned back to Jeff and Nancy. "Tell me you've heard from them! Tell me you've seen Jim since the spaceship's departure?" she pleaded.

Jeff and Nancy looked shocked as the implications soaked in. They looked sad for the first time that morning, and slowly shook their heads no.

Black Crow pulled into the Mesaliko Reservation and parked his truck far behind a line of Roswell sheriff cruisers and DHS vans. He grabbed his backpack and moved quietly away and sought out the chief, who naturally was being harassed by the authorities so Black Crow looked for the shaman. No one would say where River Dog or Eddie were and the Mesaliko's, always a little reserved, now looked scared.

The agents had set up portable lights the previous night. The camp, still shrouded in the shade of the mountains, was eerily lit by the droning diesel-driven lights. He approached several of the inhabitants he knew, but no one was talking. He decided to climb up into the mountains to get a better view of the area, and to search for any evidence of ET or a launch site.

As he started up the trail, the sky lightened further as the sun poked over the edge of the San Francisco Peaks. Black Crow spotted the shaman. The thin mid-20s, dark-haired man was dressed in Western clothes. Black Crow observed him leave his trailer. The brave searched furtively right and left for the authorities, and thinking he was unobserved, he scurried up the hillside trail with what looked like a first aid kit.

"What's Eddie up to?" he asked himself as he slipped behind a stand of brush and observed the shaman's grandson. Then he began to discretely follow. Maintaining a safe distance, he pulled out his special BIA binoculars and picked Eddie up as he ran to a spot far in the hills. The brave stopped and bent down before a young maiden. She wore a dark traditional dress and appeared to be hurt. He watched as Eddie gave her a drink of water from a canteen.

The sun began to rise higher in the sky and the mountains were flooded with light. Black Crow pressed the button to zoom in and inspect the girl. She was a teenager, beautiful with delicate features and light-brown straight hair. What were most striking however, were her pale, ice-blue eyes.

Black Crow stood and scanned the area with his binoculars searching for other victims in the morning light. He had just about given up when he thought he saw movement about 300 yards to the left, much higher in the mountains. He moved cautiously in that direction, keeping the trees and rocky outcrops between him and Eddie.

As he approached the peak of the range, he saw a large boulder sitting in an odd position, as if it had been pried away from the mountain. He walked towards it, and then spun as he heard a soft moan. He searched for the source of the sound. The cry was not one of pain, but more one of personal agony, of a deep and enduring loss. He moved up the rocky path to a ledge near the summit, and then he saw her. She lay in a fetal position, her knees drawn up and she rocked silently while crying.

He moved to her and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. She did not jump back in fear or surprise but just looked at him in annoyance, preferring to wallow in her pain and loss. Her forehead and cheek were covered in matted blood, and her hands looked scratched and cut.

"Are you okay," he asked gently. She nodded and turned away. "Let me check to see if you've broken anything. Your head is bleeding." He knelt and opened his backpack withdrawing a canteen. He moistened a clean white cloth, and then handed the canteen to the young woman. As she drank deeply, he wiped away the blood. Black Crow observed her features: late teens, dressed in a Mesaliko dress, with short dark hair and piercing brown eyes. She was beautiful, but her features were more Anglo than Indian. His suspicions where confirmed when he saw the RFID bead implanted along her neck.

"What are you doing up in these mountains?" he asked harshly.

"I… I don't know," she struggled as she replied in perfect, unaccented English.

"You don't know why you're here," he asked in a more interrogative tone.

"I don't remember anything. My name, who I am, or why I'm here," Ultra stated in a flat emotionless tone. "I just know I'm lost. I've lost the love of my life and all my friends and family, and I don't think I can go on."

Black Crow observed her for a second, and then a crazy idea floated across his mind. He recalled his son's plea for a new mother, and immediately rejected it. But, the more he looked at the beautiful squaw, her deep brown eyes, her narrow waist, and shapely legs he could not resist at least trying.

"Well, Bonnie, I'll tell you who you are! You are my wife and I, Black Crow, have been searching for you for months," he explained. "You are not lost, because I have found you," he added with his best smile as he wrapped his strong muscular arms around her shoulders.

"Your wife!?" she replied, confused, as she looked up into his ruggedly handsome face.

"Yes, and you did not lose your family. The boys are waiting for you. They've missed you something terrible. They've been crying every night since you ran off." He lowered his arm and placed it around her waist and gently helped her to her feet.

"Family? Boys?" she asked.

"Yes, your two boys, Silver Eagle, and Blue Owl," he added. "We had a fight, and you ran off. I want to apologize, I was wrong, and want you to come back to us. The boys need their mother."

"Back to us?" she repeated in confusion: "Back to my husband and my children?"

"Yes, come along, Bonnie. It's a long drive and the boys so miss your loving touch," he added, strumming every heartstring he could think of. "My truck's just down this path." He placed a steadying arm around her supple waist and guided her to the trail making sure to keep the trees between him and Eddie.

Ultra looked back at the mountain top, stared blankly at the boulder and the entrance to the wormhole controls. She did not see Eddie helping Meta to her feet in the distance as she allowed Black Crow to guide her to the trail and away.

The FBI agents milled around Roswell waiting for orders. One junior officer sat in the back of the Suburban van and opened his laptop. He picked up the wireless signal from the new Starbucks Coffee located across the street and clicked on CNN Headline News.

He watched as the talking head discussed the reaction across the world to the first well documented case of extraterrestrial contact on Earth: the live footage of the Starship floating up into the heavens, the metallic walls of the ship clearly illuminated by the bright glow from the moon, the ship's ascension, and then it being swallowed up into the mysterious black disk that had opened up in the sky.

Next a picture of London was displayed with the bells of Big Ben ringing in celebration of the event.

The coverage swung to Rome and the Pope at the Sistine Chapel. Pope Benedict, unlike the other religious leaders around the world, had proclaimed the sighting as the work of the Devil.

The agent watched and listened as the image on his laptop showed the Pope repeating the Catholic doctrine to the gathered throngs outside his window. "Humans are special," he declared in English, "because we are the only intelligent life God created. The sightings can only be manifestations… trickery… of Satan."

Next, the image on the CNN site showed a million-strong crowd gathered in Moscow's Red Square. The grounds were covered in dark muddy snow, but the drunken crowd felt no cold as they sang, celebrated, and drank vodka.

The news of this great event spread to the far reaches of the globe. The news spread even to the remote villages of Siberia. A red-faced young woman with wide Asiatic eyes ran down the street of the small Tunguska village to the elder's house. She swung open the door and ran to an old man rocking in his chair before the wood burning stove.

"Grandfather!" the young woman cried. "We have great news!" she exclaimed as she removed her long, sleek fox-skin coat exposing dark boots, padded pants, and a black leather vest. She pulled a clasp from her hair and unbundled the coal-black strands that fell nearly to her waist.

The gnarled old man, his hairless skull and face dark and wrinkled from long exposure of the extreme Siberian weather turned and smiled, exposing a toothless grin. "Great news?" he asked as he pointed. "Take a seat by the fire Katharina, you look frozen my dear."

His wife, old, stooped and equally wrinkled carried a cup to the fire. She removed the kettle and poured steaming water into the cup, then handed the tea to her granddaughter. "Tell us, Kat," she requested as she sat in the chair to the old man's left.

"They have returned!" she exclaimed: "The 'Visitors'!" She took a quick sip of the steaming tea and then continued. "Last night, under the full moon, an alien spaceship blasted off from America. Everyone saw it, and it is proof that they were here. Now, everyone will have to admit that the great explosion that rocked our land so many years ago was, like we said, a ship from beyond the stars."

The old man, the village leader listened quietly and turned to his wife. She looked into his watery pale-gray eyes and nodded.

"We must tell our young friends, our own 'Visitors,' of this ship. It could have been their friends searching for them," he declared as he slowly, creakily got to his ancient feet. "I must go and tell them."

"No, grandfather, the trip into the woods is long, and the temperatures are still far too low," the young woman cautioned.

"We received a letter from Viktor today," Katharina's grandmother announced. "He is returning to the village. When he arrives you two can take the dogs and travel to their camp. I agree they must be informed of this ship. Maximillian and the others try to act brave, but I know they feel alone and isolated since their own ship…"

"The Granolith," the old man supplied.

"Yes, since their Granolith ship crashed and burned, and they lost so many of their… their friends in the ship," the old woman added.

Amy tried calling Jim on her cell phone, but again received no answer, just the recording to leave a message at the tone.

Jeff came back into the restaurant carrying a tray and distributed the food to a hungry party of tourists camped out in a booth near the wall. He moved across the floor and slipped behind the counter and bent his head to Amy. Nancy moved over and Jeff whispered. "I called Hera's – no answer: just got her voice mail message again." He refilled the cups of two New Mexico State Troopers and bent again. "I also called Rachael's: no answer. I'm getting worried."

"What was the other girl's name? The one that Hera ran out with?" Nancy asked.

"I don't know. I've seen her in here many times, she's always with Zeke and the Twins," Jeff answered.

"Alex and Alan!" Amy exclaimed. "Where are the Twins? Where are Zeke, Blanca, and Brody? Has anyone heard from them?" she nearly screamed as the implications hit her.

As she scrolled down the electronic phone book on her cell phone, the bell at the Crashdown door rang as a new patron entered. Jeff and Nancy looked up and broad smiles crossed their face. Jeff rubbed Amy's shoulder and pointed. She swung and saw Jim striding towards her; his face strained with emotion. She jumped up and wrapped her arms around Jim's neck in relief.

"Where have you been?" she demanded.

"Are the girls okay?" Jeff asked as he poured a cup of coffee for the former sheriff as Jim slid into the seat next to Amy's.

Jim stared to answer but caught the interested glance of the Deputies and State Policemen inspecting his sudden entrance. He looked at the tough faces of the local lawmen, DHS agents, and FBI men and clammed up. He took Amy's arm and motioned Jeff and Nancy to the back. They followed him in through the door to the kitchen and into the break room.

Jim looked around, assured they were alone and faced Amy. "Hera and the other girls were worried about Zeke and the Twins. They convinced me to take them out to their house on Sunset Place." He stopped, reluctant to proceed.

"And," Amy pressed?

"And, we found the house… and it was empty," Jim clarified.

"Empty, like they were out to the movies?" Nancy asked. But, she could immediately tell from the look on Jim's face that no reassuring answerer was forthcoming.

"No, it was 'empty,' " he explained with emphasis. "The front door was unlocked and we went in. It was stripped. Every piece of furniture, all their clothes, every picture, their computers… everything… was gone. Even the rugs were removed. The walls were a flat white and the room had a strange medicinal odor like it had been sanitized and every shred of their existence erased."

"They're gone!" Amy sank down on the couch, and began to cry. "My grandchildren…

"Our only link to Liz," Nancy wailed in a whisper.

"Is gone," Jeff finished as he too dropped to the couch and buried his head in his hands as he hung his head.

Weeks passed and a shroud of excitement, confusion, and fear descended on Roswell. Back at the Mesaliko Reservation, a man, dressed as an Indian, strode along the darkened trail that led up to a rutted dirt track. He pulled a canteen from his pack as he inspected the area. His green eyes glowed as he took a long swallow of the water. The man took a handkerchief from his rear pocket and wiped the sweat from his broad forehead, dark brows and long straight nose.

Checking both ways, he removed a small box of matches from his pack, stared at them for a moment, and then slid back the cover to reveal an instrument with a dial and two buttons. He pointed the instrument into the trees and slowly depressed the green button.

Suddenly, the outline of the white Ford Explorer began to take shape below the sweeping arms of a great Piñon pine tree. He smiled, returned the device to the 'match' box, and replaced it in his pack. Then he began to climb up the hill to obtain a better position to observe what would come next.

He watched as the car's surfaces grew more distinct and retook solid form as the cloaking action faded.

Zeke awoke with a start. He looked out the window of his SUV and up into the dark sky. He blinked his eyes in confusion as he stared at the moon, now just a waning crescent indicating, which indicated weeks had passed since they headed for the mountains. Zeke looked to the Twins beside him as they began to regain consciousness too. He turned and looked at Blanca, Cede, and Gael in the back seat who were still under whatever control had knocked them out. Blanca's head lay peacefully on Cede's shoulders.

"What happened?" Alex asked sluggishly.

"I don't know. We left at 2200 hours for the rendezvous at midnight. The moon was full and we had just entered the Reservation grounds," Zeke added. "And now…" he pointed up at the moon.

"Did the ship leave? Did Meta and Ultra blast off without us?" Alex asked, although he somehow already knew.

"There's only one way to find out," Zeke noted as he started the large SUV and backed out from under the large pine tree. He pulled forward, his headlights illuminating the dirt path that led up to the mountains, to the cavity that held the wormhole controls, and he hoped Ultra's intergalactic ship. But, as he turned the corner up the steep, rutted road, he was stopped by two Roswell Deputies and a group of Mesaliko braves that were blocking the road.

"Sorry folks; the Reservation is still closed until the spaceship blastoff investigation is completed," the Deputy explained. He pointed to a TV uplink van and a bored reporter and cameraman. "You can see everything on your TV; but it's not like you're not going to miss anything… nothing new has turned up since the departure. If something happens, the DHS will make an announcement. Until then, I'm going to have to ask you turn your vehicle around and return home."

Zeke looked at the Deputy and the braves. The young Mesalikos stared back with resolve and one slowly lowered his right hand to the revolver in his belt. Zeke knew there was no way to proceed without causing a scene. He backed up and turned the Explorer back towards Roswell.

Alan flipped on the radio and began punching buttons to move from station to station. They listened in amazement, as the radio waves were filled with music, weather and traffic updates. Then he found CNN Radio, and they sat spellbound as the reporters provided updates on the greatest UFO saga in the history of the world, the ship arising in the air silhouetted against the moon, and the mysterious disk that swallowed up the ship. The announcer also reported on the initial excitement that rocked the world and the growing sense of disappointment as no new events followed. Only the religious leaders seemed excited, as attendance surged after the sighting, as the Christmas celebration approached.

"What do we do now, your Highness?" Cede asked.

"We have no choice. The ship has left," he noted in disbelief. "Ultra… left me; Meta," he turned and looked at his cousins, "Meta left you," Zeke sadly replied. "It appears that our destiny in not to return to our parents and Antar."

Blanca looked at the boys and could see the shellshock look in their eyes. "Maybe it's for the best. You know that sweet Hera loves you, Zeke." She shifted her gaze to the Twins. "And Rachael, and Sara… they seem to care too."

"No, I don't think so," Alex responded slowly.

"Sure, I know Rachael likes you," Alan jumped in trying to buoy his brother's broken spirit.

"Yes, she did," Alex replied, his voice low. "But, I saw her… when we were knocked out. She… Rachael, Sara and Hera, all came to our house. They saw..."

"That we had prepared for the return," Alan exclaimed as the implications dawned on him. "They know we were going to leave them, return with Meta."

"I don't think they will be able to forget that," Alex signed.

The boys nodded silently, as Zeke slowly, resolutely headed the SUV back towards town.

Weeks had passed and Hera and Rachael tried to adjust. Hera lay on her small bed and stared at the ceiling. Rachael lay beside her on the bright red and blue coverlet and closed her eyes still unwilling to believe Alex was gone.

"I know what I saw," Rachael explained, speaking to herself. "I know what they are saying on TV. I believe a ship blasted off three weeks ago. I know Alex left his house… and he must have returned to Antar. He's been gone all this time, but why then… why am I sure he's going to knock on my door tomorrow and explain it was all just a mistake?" she asked.

Rachael raised her trembling body up and rested on one elbow as she looked down at Hera dressed in her Crashdown uniform. "He's going to come home one day, crawling on his hands and knees begging me to take back his sorry butt," she laughed, and then began to cry again. "Why can't I accept what has to be true?" she asked.

"Zeke did what he had to do," Hera answered as she rose to prepare to leave for work. "The Twins had to follow. It was Zeke's destiny to return to Antar with Ultra to rule over the Five Planets. I can never leave Earth, and even if I could, the Taurians would never accept me, the illegitimate daughter of the tyrant Khivar, as their Queen," she explained in a slow quiet voice. "At least now he is safe," she sighed. "Father cannot harm him now."

"So, what do we do?" Rachael asked. "You know he's probably ruined any future relationship I could have with a human," she laughed without mirth. "How is any other boy going to compete with an alien who can whisk you across time and space, deliver a kiss that makes you see stars," she laughed. "Literally see stars," she started to giggle recalling his kiss.

"You get up each morning, get dressed, go to school, go to work. You take one breath, and then another. You take one step, then another. You go through the motions, and maybe for a few minutes you forget. When you remember, when you think you can't stand one more moment without him in your life, you remember what it was like to be cherished, to be kissed, to be loved like no one could ever, will ever, love you," Hera sadly explained as she sat on the bed beside her friend.

"No!" Rachael exclaimed. "No, I'm not going to sleepwalk through life mourning the loss of a boy I barely knew," she exclaimed, trying to convince herself as much as Hera. "Sure, Alex was special. But, I've got my whole life to live. I don't want to hear any more about this taking one breath and then another, stuff. We're young and we have our whole life in front of us," she declared.

Rachael knew Hera would have to leave any minute to make it to work on time. She grabbed her strap purse and walked to the bedroom door. "Come on, I'll walk with you to the Crashdown. It's not helping me sitting around here moping. I'll get a Will Smith Burger and some Chili Orbit Rings," Rachael said and then shook her head as she recalled that was Alex's favorite lunch. "You still get your employee discount since Jeff rehired you?"

Rachael looked back at Hera who was now lying prone on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. She started to return when she noted something poking out of her purse. Rachael turned away from Hera and walked to the window and then quietly opened the small leather straps that held the purse closed. Inside she found a small, creamy white envelope. She lifted the flap, and pulled out a small light purple card embossed on the cover with a two interlacing swirls looped around a small golden triangle. Her hands trembling, she opened the card and stared. The beautiful, soft paper was blank. And then, although she knew it was impossible, the letter R formed on the top left corner.

Rachael stared with wide eyes, sure she was hallucinating. Then the script continued and spelled out the rest of her name: Rachael? She sucked in her breath with a gasp and swung to Hera; but, her friend continued to lay motionless on her four-poster bed.

Rachael turned back to the card in a combination of confusion and delight. She stared and more words appeared.

I know you think you know what happened, but let me explain. Meet me at the carrousel in the park at 1400 hours. And maybe, later, if you want, we could get some Men in Blackberry Pie and greasy Chili Orbit Rings at the Crashdown.

Your friend Alex

24 December 2006

P.S. Alan says to bring Sara too!

Rachael was shocked. She was positive the note had not been in her bag earlier that morning. But, the mysterious words forming before her eyes, the food choice - their personal favorite - and the date he added were not lost on her.

She stared out the window and the sky seemed bluer and the sun brighter as a big smile covered her face. She whispered to herself, "I'm not going to suffer any more, because my Alex did not leave me – could not leave me."

Rachael laughed out in relief causing Hera to look up. Hera saw the note in her friend's trembling hand, the smile across Rachael's face, and the uncontrolled giggle that slipped out. Hera jumped up and quickly ran to her friend and read the note. The look of despair and resignation that had racked her body instantly faded. She looked at her wristwatch and saw it was 1350, only minutes before Rachael's 'appointment.'

With one raised hand, Hera changed Rachael's clothing from baggy sweat pants, to sleek skin-tight black boot-cut jeans, ankle-high leather boots and a dark, cashmere low-cut sweater. Rachael let out a small squeal as she felt the new clothes covering her skin.

Hera observed that the note did not include any mention of her or Zeke, but still she strode towards the front door with a smile and new lift in her step. As she started to run her alien-head apron and silver bobble-head tiara materialized in place and the two girls ran out of the house.

"We've got to call Sara!" Rachael exclaimed as she pulled out her cell phone.

"She'll never make it to the park in 10 minutes; tell her to meet us at the Crashdown in an hour," Hera laughed as the two girls skipped out of the house. "And tell her, in no uncertain terms, to not let Alan sweep her off her feet. The boys are going to have to beg for our forgiveness and grovel at our feet for months," she laughed with a new sense of hope.

Katharina and Viktor pulled their teams of huskies to a stop at the top of a bluff, and stared down at the encampment spread out below. The five huts, extending like spokes from a center structure, were lit by lights within and by the glow of the crescent moon. The alien design seemed both appropriate and at the same time, totally out of place in the Siberian wilderness. The lights and the dark smoke issuing from the chimney protruding out of the center gathering house, convinced them that their Visitors were still here, still living in obscurity, hiding from the evil lord that would kill them all if they were ever found.

Katharina pulled the reins tight and prepared to issue an order to the huskies to 'mush' forward, when Viktor spotted and pointed to the far hut. A small bundled person emerged and began to walk in their direction. The petite figure wearing roughly stitched animal hides was none-the-less recognizable as Ava.

"She is the one, Princess Ava," Katharina announced to Viktor, as they watched the petite young woman plant her torch in the snow, fit the snow shoes to her boots, collect the burning pole and trudge out, alone.

"Hello," Katharina yelled out, and she and Viktor directed their dog sleds down the dark slope and quickly pulled up beside Ava.

"Будет им?" Ava asked with suspicion.

"English, please," Katharina requested. "We need the practice. This is Viktor, my uncle. He is from the city. I have not seen him for years, but he has returned to fulfill his duty as a trusted member of the council."

"It is a great honor to meet you, Princess," he announced in clear English, accented with a slight Siberian intonation. "My uncle, the village elder, has briefed the council on your… presence. Your secret is safe with me."

Ava stood erect. She moved the torch up and peered into his dark amber eyes, then turned away, and started to walk towards the path.

"What are you doing out alone? The forest and the lake are dangerous; you should never venture out alone, especially in the dark," Viktor sternly cautioned.

"I was just going for a walk, Katharina," Ava called back, ignoring the handsome stranger. Her beautiful, pale face and soft blue eyes were lit by the torch and outlined by the fur hood of her long coat. "To visit the… the crash site; I go almost every day."

"The crash was terrible," Katharina sympathized. "You must miss your friends terribly? But, they say, time will heal all wounds."

"When there are only eight, only eight like you on the entire planet, the loss of four is devastating," Ava solemnly explained.

"But," Viktor appeared confused, "I was told there were thirteen of you on the ship, not eight."

"Only Zan, Lonny, Rath, and I were truly alike," Ava clarified. "They and the Tess girl died in the crash," she explained as she stared into the dark amber eyes of the stranger. She sized up the native: short, muscular man, with broad shoulders dressed in a thick, warm long coat that fell below the top of his seal-skin boots.

"And, of course, our duplicates, Max, Isabel, and Michael," she continued. "Liz, Alex, Maria, Kyle… and Serena are not true Visitors. They are hybrids too, but born on Earth: born to humans. The eight of us have no parents, we were designed and then hatched," Ava explained with startling honesty.

"After the crash, we should have recognized the danger and been joined as it showed in the book: Max and me, and Michael and Isabel. Our designers knew we could only survive, could only protect ourselves from those who would do us harm, if we were mated. We've been kept apart, and our powers are weak," she stated. "We can barely feed ourselves. We should rule this world, but instead, we hide in the frozen tundra only a mile from the crash site because we fear the boogey man will hunt us down and exterminate us," Ava declared in disgust.

"You and Max?" Katharina questioned. "But, I thought that after Tess passed, you and Kyle had become close," she asked, although she had heard the story of the strange vision that broke apart their union.

"No!" she nearly screamed. "Max rejected me and I thought Kyle could be the one, the one to love and cherish me… and he does, in his way," Ava turned away and started to walk towards the trace of sun that still lit the western horizon.

She turned back to them as she fidgeted with the black ring on her first finger, "But I was visited in my dreams by the great Seer of Antar. Amíle explained that Kyle was not destined to be my mate. For Kyle carries the essence of Prince Moulin, my brother."

"Your brother!" Viktor exclaimed as a smile beginning to crease his rough rugged face. He had felt the attraction to this alluring blonde-haired woman, and now he realized she was alone and not involved with another.

"Now, he shares his bed… his hut… with that half-breed Serena, and I am sentenced to live my life alone and barren while they… they glow with their love and happiness. Even now, Isabel is driving everyone crazy decorating our huts for Christmas. Everything must be 'perfect' for the Princess."

As Ava began to trudge away, into the red-sunset lit snow-covered trail, Viktor moved swiftly to her side. "It is not safe to travel alone in the woods. Let me, fair Princess, accompany you." He moved boldly to her side and extended his right arm out with his glove-covered hand at his hip.

Katharina watched closely as Ava looked deeply into his eyes, and Katharina saw the faintest of smiles, the first in a long time. Ava extended her arm around his, and maintaining a respectful distance, allowed Viktor to take the torch and guide her down the ever darkening snowy trail. Soon their images faded into the darkness and out of sight.

Katharina nodded with satisfaction, Max's match-making plans having passed the first phase; she knew Max and Kyle would be pleased. She turned and directed the two teams of huskies towards the encampment to tell Max and the others of the Starship that blasted off to the Visitor's homeland.

Sara sat in her room alone, thinking of the phone still cradled in her hand, and the call. She recalled weeks before, sitting on her father's lap, explaining how this new boy, this strange young man who had moved her like no other had broken her heart.

Now, she sat on her bed in her striped, pink pajamas and stared out the window. What should she do? She swore that fateful night to never love another - that no possibility of love could ever compensate for the agony of heartbreak. She trembled as the pain of loss racked her body.

She recalled vividly the night of the departure as she stepped in and saw Alan's house was stripped to the floor. She feared that he had forsaken her. But, when she heard the loud sucking sound coming from the sky, the sight of the Starship rising up towards the moon, she knew he was gone: returned home with his first love, leaving her alone to suffer and try to adjust to a life with simple Earth boys.

And now, she knew that Alan wanted to meet with her to explain. She knew if she went she'd be sucked back into his world: a dangerous world, a world that could only lead to more heartbreak. For she knew his destiny was not with a simple Air Force brat. Alan would return someday to his planet, and not with her.

If not that, her Dad would get transferred to a new Air Force base and she would have to go. One way or another, they'd be separated again. She didn't think her heart could survive another break.

Sara knew she could never be with Alan again. She had decided that she wouldn't let her heart be broken - she had not signed up for this alien madness.

She slipped in her iPod earphones, hit 'Play,' and settled back on her bed to sulk.

What hurts the most
Was being so close
And having so much to say
And watching you fly away
And never knowing
What could have been
And not seeing that loving you

Is what I was tryin' to do…

"Who am I fooling?" she whispered to herself as she jerked out the headphones. She knew she'd take one look in Alan's amazing blue eyes, and melt. Sara knew she needed help or she'd never survive the coming weeks.

She closed her eyes in despair, and then smiled as she had an idea. She jumped off her bed and picked up her personal phone book. The petite cheerleader searched quickly, and then dialed.

"Johnny… this is Sara…," she announce and then listened. "That's right, I cheered at your JV games… and I was wondering, if you weren't busy, if you'd like to…"

Katharina shook the snow from her collar and approached the door to the central hut. But, before she could knock, she saw Max and Liz in the distance lit only by the dying rays of the sun. Liz dressed in sleek reindeer-skin pants, knee-length boots, and a heavy coat carried an ax over her shoulder. Max in dark leather boots, pants and a great furry bear-skin coat and matching hat dragged a long pine tree through the snow towards the encampment. Katharina moved back along the side of the hut, and watched in silence, hidden from their view, and listened.

"Max, you're frozen," Liz giggled and moved close to her husband and gave him a long, warming kiss. "We should never have stayed out so long."

"Did you see the diagram Isabel prepared? The tree had to be 'perfect,' " he mimicked his sister's voice. Max withdrew her sketch and studied it again. "A scotch pine, at least seven feet high, no more than five feet at the base, and…" he stopped reading as he stood the Christmas tree up and they inspected it.

"Well," Liz commented as Max held up the scrawny, crooked little tree with a large bare spot on the right, "I think with just a little adjustment, it'll be fine." She moved closer, checked that no one was watching, and waved a hand in front of the tree. Suddenly the trunk straightened, the limbs extended to cover the bare area, and the tip of the tree now stood a foot taller than Max."

"Perfect, like my perfect wife," he laughed as he took her left hand in his right and they walked the remaining distance to the camp, while he dragged the tree towards to the door.

Max, not seeing Katharina, who had backed away, turned to Liz as he steadied the tree by the hut entrance and continued. "You were by my side when I was born; you were in my dreams before I was awakened."

Liz smiled up into his eyes, and continued the poem, "You were the moonlight in the snow-covered winter night, and the warm sun on my weary face."

"You were the shadow of my grief, and the gentle wind caressing my cheeks. You were the joy I never knew existed, the completeness of my soul, and the yearning of my heart," he continued.

"You were…" But before Liz could complete her line, she sensed the dogs and turned sharply. Liz raised her hand in protective positions, ready to erect her protective shield or blast her enemy when she recognized Katharina in the shadows.

"Katharina!" she exclaimed, relief washing over her face.

"What are you doing here so late? Come in before you freeze," Max offered as he opened the door.

"I have news… great news," Katharina announced as they stepped into the center hut.

She stared at the surroundings. She never quite adjusted to the size of the great domed room that seemed many times larger inside than it appeared from the outside. Now the wood-and-leather furniture had been rearranged to create a large opening in the center of the nearly circular room. Four pairs of neat, trim stockings hung by the large mantle that covered nearly one whole side of the room. Max hoisted the tree to the center location and Isabel stared at it with disdain.

"Did you not even look at my sketch," she shook her head in mock disgust. "If you were too busy, Alex and I could have selected a suitable tree," she joked as she admired the perfectly formed tree. Suddenly she swung and stared at Liz, and began to shake her head and laugh as she sensed what had really happened.

As if seeing Katharina for the first time, she smiled and moved quickly to her friend from the village. "Katharina, what are you doing here?" Suddenly, Isabel's smile began to fade, assuming that only bad news would bring Katharina here after sunset. Alex heard the voices, and entered the main room from their hut. He took one look at Isabel's ashen face and rushed to her side.

Max called out telepathically, and Kyle and Serena, followed closely by Michael and Maria ran into the domed room. "Katharina has news," Max declared.

They all began to take seats surrounding Katharina and the tree before Max recognized Ava's absence and jumped up. "Wait. Where's Ava?! It's getting dark; the temperature will drop to 20 below within the hour. We're going to have to go after her," he declared as he, Kyle, and Alex grabbed their coats and started towards the door.

Maria looked at Michael, and reluctantly, he stood and walked to the entrance and the boots and coats hanging on pegs by the door.

Suddenly the door to the hut sprung open and Ava and Viktor hurried in. The frigid air that accompanied them quickly lowered the room's temperature.

Maria, and then the others noticed the short man, and recognized him as a stranger. Maria raised her hand first and slammed Viktor to the wall, flattening the powerful newcomer against the hut's ceiling and suspending his feet several feet above the floor.

Ava rushed to his rescue and forced Maria to release him. "What are you doing to Viktor?" she asked indignantly as Maria withdrew her powers and Viktor fell before crashing to the wooden floor. Ava and Katharina rushed to him, as the others stared in confusion.

"Viktor is my uncle" Katharina announced. "He accompanied me through the forest so I could deliver the news in safety."

"He is not a threat," Ava hissed. "Actually, he is the first gentleman I've met in a long time," she announced as she and Katharina helped the stocky, shaken man to his feet.

Viktor stared at Maria and the others with a frown of defiance that did not totally mask his underlying fear of the human-like aliens. "It is true. I am Viktor, and I come only as a friend, as someone ready to help our noble guests," he pronounced with a slight bow. "I understand your reaction. I would have responded similarly if a stranger suddenly appeared in my camp."

Max, always the peacemaker, intervened to try to restore order. "Welcome Viktor. I apologize if you were hurt. You understand, we have enemies, and have to be diligent."

Ava helped Viktor to a seat and turned to Katharina. "Now, you say you have news. It must be serious for you to have traveled through the forests and not allow enough time to return in the daylight. You will, naturally, spend the night. But, now, tell us of your news.

"Many weeks ago, a great Starship arose from the desert, ascended into the sky, and left Earth. The departure was captured on TV and broadcast around the world," she began.

"A hoax?" Kyle asked.

"No, it was recorded by a dozen different TV stations, and observed live by thousands."

"Where was this Starship seen?" Michael asked, still suspicious.

"Katharina considered and said, "In America, in the West."

"America is a large place," Alex stated.

"Do you know where it specifically took off from?" Serena inquired.

Katharina withdrew a newspaper she had brought that summarized the sightings, read a moment, and then replied, "West of Roswell, New Mexico."

"Roswell!" Michael exclaimed. "We have to go back! Maybe they sent a ship for us; maybe they're searching for us even now?"

"No," Max replied. "It's too dangerous. Someone could be searching for us. But, it is more likely Khivar than anyone friendly to our cause. Amíle said time on this planet had been shifted. Khivar, in the true course of time was slain. His followers engineered the shift so he would be restored. The Seer said we were the only ones…," here Max faltered and looked confused as he stared at Ava.

"And your son," Liz explained. "The child of the other you and Tess's union in that other timeline, a boy called Zeke, could restore the timeline and defeat the evil lord," Liz completed the Seer's message as she moved to Max, took his arm possessively, and stared defiantly at Ava.

"Well, we're not going anywhere tonight, and tomorrow is Christmas," Isabel declared, trying to lighten the mood. "Let's decorate the tree. I've made popcorn to string," she offered hopefully.

"And I picked holly sprigs," Alex chirped in. "We can string the little red berries too."

"Michael and I'll make some cookies," Maria announced, as she dragged Michael off to talk to him. "And later, we can sing carols," she offered.

Viktor watched and smiled as the tension level began to drop and everyone's attention was focused on decorating the Christmas tree. Ava brought him a cold cloth for the bump on his head, and a cup of cider, before she sat down beside him.

He smiled at Ava, and at her attention, but then his eyes nearly popped out as he saw Liz and Max open a large box of what looked like diamonds. He stared in amazement, as they, Kyle and Serena began to decorate the tree with one-, two-, and five-karat sparkling gems.

The Christmas rush at the Crashdown slowed. Jeff was happy and even the thin crowd, such a far cry from the long lines that paraded before his door after the Starship's appearance, could not dent his sense of contentment.

Nancy spoke briefly to Jim and Amy in the front booth before they stood and wished her a merry Christmas.

Nancy headed back to the counter where she moved to Jeff's side. He slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her to him in a tight embrace. They smiled as they waved to their departing friends, and then looked over at Hera. They saw her slide into the rear booth to deliver what must be Zeke's tenth Alien Blast. Their 'grandson' had become nearly a permanent feature, never venturing far from their favorite waitress's side.

"You know you don't need to stay with me every waking hour," Hera commented with a chuckle.

"I thought I had to leave you. That I'd never see your smiling face again, never feel your touch, or the thrill of your kiss! I won't make that mistake again. It's 'you and me, babe' from now on," he solemnly promised.

Alan looked out over the crowd seated in concrete benches set up in the town center. From his seat he stared down the rows of guests and up to the stage while he listened to the choir singing Christmas songs. He turned to his brother and saw Rachael snuggle in close to Alex, their eyes locked and their smiles indicating their bodies were here but their thoughts elsewhere.

Alan smiled as he saw Amy approaching. He, his brother and Rachael scooted to their right, to the bench they had saved, to make room. Jim and Amy sat down, and Amy gave him and Alex hugs and patted Rachael's arm.

Alan was happy, reunited with his extended family, and pleased that Hera and Zeke, and Rachael and his brother had reignited their relationships. But, his heart still ached with Sara's refusal to even speak to him.

He leaned back and listened to the choir delivering a moving rendition of 'Silent Night' when he spotted her. Sara came walking across the lot, holding Johnny's hand, and slipped into the first row. They spoke a moment, and Johnny got up and moved to the concession stand. There was a long line to get hot chocolate, and Alan took this as a sign.

Excusing himself, he moved down the rows and sat down in the end seat beside Sara. Expecting Johnny, she turned with a smile, and was surprised to see Alan sitting beside her.

Sara closed her eyes as she gathered her strength and then she turned to him. "Good evening, Alan; how are you?" she asked civilly.

"It is a great evening, the night is crisp, the stars are shining bright, and I'm by your side again," he replied.

She turned away, blocking him out, pretending to listen to the choir.

Suddenly he blurted out the question that had haunted him, "Can I ask you something?" he inquired in a soft emotion-choked voice. She turned back to him, nodded solemnly, and he continued. "Could you… could you ever change your mind?"

"About what?" she asked in confusion.

"When you told me to stay away, that you never really cared for me, that you were only using me because I was popular… was that really true? I thought we had something special… but… I guess… I could have only seen and heard what I wanted to hear…" he stated, and then looked away, unable to look at her face, knowing it would hold the truth.

"What are you talking about?! I never said anything like that," she replied, as she touched his shoulder. The tremble that radiated out from his body seemed to broadcast straight to her heart his sadness and sense of loss.

Alan turned to her, took her gloved covered hand in his and pulled it to his chest. "But, at your house, I came, the day after the dance, to ask for… to explain," he whispered. "You blew me off, told me to never talk to you again."

"Then after we returned, you said you never wanted to see or talk to me again. I tried, but… I just can't keep away," he explained as he moved closer to her and gazed deeply down into her eyes.

"Tell me again, that you don't love me, could never love me, and I won't bother you again," he promised but with hope shining from his eyes.

Zeke and Hera entered the park and searched for a seat. Their gaze fell on Alan, earnestly imploring Sara in the first row. They saw Johnny turning back to the audience, his hands filled with two steaming cups of cocoa. Zeke, with a nod, caused Johnny to trip and spill the scalding drinks down the front of his pants; he looked embarrassed and backed away.

Zeke smiled at Hera, nodded, and then they turned back to Alan. Zeke and Hera could see Alan was not making any progress. After a moment of thought, Zeke smiled. He shared a look with Hera and then lifted his eyes to the sky. Together he and Hera raised their hands upwards. Suddenly, tiny white flakes began to fall lightly onto the crowd.

Sara's head jerked up as she saw the flakes falling. It had snowed on Christmas Eve in Roswell only once in over twenty years, and she thought this must be a sign from the heavens. Alan took her hand, and bent his head forward so his forehead just touched hers, and then moved back and smiled.

© 2006 Roswell the Next Chapter. Unauthorized reproduction prohibited. Any similarities to events, real or imaginary, are strictly coincidental. Roswell The Next Chapter is in no way affiliated with UPN, the WB, Regency Television, 20th Century Fox, or Jason Katims Productions.

The author wishes to give credit to RTFC for some ideas, characters, and words used in this episode, as well as:

.

and

.

Chapter 7: Enigma

by

NickMax

Edited by Candy Cane, faillow, and sdcheesehead

Original Air Date: December 31, 2006

Sara looked to the sky, the light snow falling from the heavens, the soothing beautiful sound of the Christmas carolers singing on the stage, and Alan holding her hand with his face, plastered with a hopeful half-smile, close to hers.

She wanted to believe. But, so much had happened: her whirlwind romance with the handsome young man, the strange references to Alan's cousin as his 'Highness,' and the unmistaken aura of otherworldly connections.

Then there was the disastrous Thanksgiving dance and the mysterious appearance of Zeke's first love, the so-called Princess Ultra and the Twins' girlfriend, Duchess Meta. She recalled that Alan turned away from her that night, mesmerized by the scantily-clad temptress. Sara's mind was filled with a mixture of rejection, heartbreak, and talk of other planets, spaceships, wormholes, and visitors from other galaxies.

Then, when things could not become more confusing, Alan disappeared. She and her friends rushed to the Twins' house and saw it stripped, and all evidence of the boys' existence methodically erased. She knew, felt it in every fiber of her being that he was on his way home. When the Starship arose out of the mountains, blasted off for the heavens above and was swallowed up by the amazing black disk in the sky, she thought that Alan, without even saying goodbye, had left her.

And now, he was here, in front of her, begging for her to rejoin his crazy alien circus, and that he wanted her back in his life. But the pain of the loss, of her heartbreak still so fresh in her mind, tormented her young mind. She knew a lasting relationship was impossible.

Sara knew she had to nip the relationship in the bud. Already it felt like razors were ripping her heart apart. If she did not stop it now, she would never have any semblance of balance in her life. Alan was destined for another life, with another and the sooner she accepted that the sooner they could move on. She knew that sometimes you must be cruel to be kind.

She turned to Alan, stared up into his loving eyes, and sensed what she must do. Speaking the words she knew she must say, knowing they would be cruelest thing she had ever uttered, Sara opened her tear filled, light-brown eyes and squeezed Alan's hand and then released it.

"I'm sorry, Alan; I don't love you," she lied. "We are different; you're not even human," she whispered in his ear. "How could I ever love you, or your kind," she pronounced and then stood. "Please honor your promise and don't bother me again," she asked quietly and then stood and walked quickly away.

Alan felt crushed, but solemnly promised to uphold his agreement. He stood and watched her exit. He could not see her heartbreak or the tears flowing down Sara's cheeks as she ran into the crowd and out of his sight.

Days passed, and the kids began to re-assimilate into life in Roswell. The alien mania that had descended upon the region also appeared to be dissipating as no news of the Starship, its departure, of the meaning of its appearance on Earth could be discovered.

But as New Year's Eve approached, the action behind the scenes accelerated as new agreements were reached and new alliances made.

A sleek black limousine drove slowly down Main Street through the center of town. Spotting the TV uplink truck as the growing shadows of late afternoon covered the town, the chauffer pulled up in front of the Crashdown.

Antarvé sprung out and opened the door for Congressman Joe Cinnati, the senior Congressman from New Mexico. Antarvé smiled at Joe and gave him a nod. Joe's wife, Loretta, exited next and turned to Joe, ignoring the tall, thin man with the strange eyes, sallow cheeks, and balding scalp who had mysteriously showed up as their new driver a few days after the ascension. She straightened Joe's turquoise bolo tie at his neck, inspected him and pulled the sleeves of his white, Navajo embroidered shirt straight. She straightened her own coarse-weave tribal dress before she stared up and down the street with poorly disguised displeasure and then looked up at the neon-outlined flying saucer marquee above the restaurant's door.

"Surely there was a better place for 'The Interview,' " she remarked. She felt uncomfortable back in her home state pretending to be a good native girl when in fact she had been raised in the high society of the Albuquerque Republican elite. But Joe was excited and said this would be a political-life changing interview. He had insisted she sweep her long dark hair into a native braid, and wear a traditional Navajo dress for the cameras.

"I'm sorry Mrs. Cinnati," Delores explained as she opened the rear door to the limo, "but this interview was arranged on short notice, and the Crashdown has some special features which will, we hope, enhance the impact of the news conference."

"No problem, honey, this'll do just fine," Joe said to Delores as he met her at the front of the limo and wrapped a meat-hook like hand around her waist and pulled her to him with a smile of bursting excitement.

Delores, his Executive Secretary, looked around quickly at the small crowd of locals and tourists gathered around. She gently disengaged his hand. "Not here, Joe. Your wife is already suspicious," she whispered.

Joe laughed unconcerned, shook hands with his constituencies, joked, and walked confidently to the door. He could see the proprietor waiting just inside. Cinnati could hear yelling and could see a woman hurry up to the restaurateur's side.

Jeff immediately recognized the oversized man, their Congressman, who had appeared so often in the news since the Starship's departure. He and Nancy moved quickly to the door, and Jeff pulled it open.

"Congressman Cinnati, it's an honor," he replied. "I'm Jeff Parker, and this is my wife Nancy," he announced with pride.

The congressman strode in and shook Jeff's hand. Joe gave Nancy a head to toe assessment, smiled, winked, and shook her hand too.

Loretta coughed quietly and Joe turned. "And this, is my wife, Loretta," Joe intoned his introduction without enthusiasm. "Sorry to barge in on New Year's Eve, but…"

"But, Joe felt it was important to confer with my constituency," Loretta interjected, trying to establish her importance in the duo.

The reporter and his two cameramen came in and started to move to the rear as Joe and his entourage moved around shaking hands. Lights had been set up and the reporter, checking his wristwatch that showed 1607 looked impatient to begin. The interview had been scheduled so it would coincide with the peak nightly news time back East.

"I've reserved a space for the interview," Jeff said as he walked through the restaurant to the rear booth.

As he approached, Hera in her aqua-blue waitress dress, alien-head apron, and silver bobble-head tiara and Zeke, in jeans and a dark button-up-the-front shirt stood. They had been guarding the table, and now moved away. However, before they could leave, Joe closed in quickly, inspecting each as if trying to recognize them from their pictures. He nodded with satisfaction, as if meeting Zeke and Hera was the reason he had arrived and not the interview. Joe caught Antarvé's approving stare, then nodded to the reporter. The camerawoman flicked on the lights and tape started to roll. Immediately, Joe, Zeke, and Hera's image displaced the continuous loop of the Starship's ascension on the five large-screen plasma TV's located throughout the restaurant.

"Good evening, I'm Joe Cinnati," he bellowed as he slung one arm around Zeke's shoulders and the other around Hera before turning them to the camerawoman.

Zeke knew who he was, and knew dissing the Congressman would be both rude and difficult to explain. He did not know how to avoid being caught in the camerawoman's lenses, and broadcast throughout the Crashdown and across the airwaves, so he smiled into the camera. "Good to meet you Congressman," Zeke offered.

Cinnati turned to Jeff and Nancy with a questioning look, gave them a smile, and nodded for them to join him.

"This is one of our regular customers, Zeke D'tharthé and one of the Crashdown's waitresses, Hera Montanan," Jeff helpfully offered as he dragged Nancy in front of the camera.

Delores listened to Joe working the crowd and saw the owners fawning over the Congressman hoping to grab their 15 minutes of fame and a possible spot on the nightly news. She nodded toward the second camerawoman, smiled, and slipped into the booth and opened the two laptop computers as Joe had requested. She booted up the first with excitement and pulled up the Power Point presentation she had prepared that afternoon while Joe and Loretta had stomped through the Reservations. She connected the output leads to the control system connected to the restaurant's broadcast system.

As Joe had requested she had also opened a separate, smaller laptop; she again checked the CNN breaking news site to make sure his news had not slipped out.

The introductions completed, Joe moved to the booth. He allowed Loretta to enter first and then slid, with surprising nimbleness, into the booth. The reporter slipped into the booth beside Delores, opposite Joe, and started the interview.

"This is Chuck Crash from KROZ TV in Roswell with an exclusive, live interview with his honor, Congressman Joseph Cinnati," he started, but was immediately interrupted.

"Joe, just call me Joe, that's what all my friends in the Land of Enchantment call me," Joe interjected with a calculated laugh.

"Okay, Joe," Chuck smiled. "Much has been made of the mysterious blast off of the Starship earlier in the month. Great excitement was generated, but, frankly, there has been a sense of anti-climax in the subsequent weeks."

"You want more, don't you? I know that is what I felt." Joe offered and stared directly into the camera. "Why did they come? Who did they speak to? What was their mission?" he continued as he noticed most activity in the restaurant had slowed and many of the patron's eyes were on him, or on his image on the TV screens.

"The DHS and FBI have poured over the Checkerboard Reservation for nearly three weeks and found," here he paused for effect, "nothing. But, they are white men trying to investigate in a red man's world. That is why I have sought the support of the Bureau of Indian Affairs, the BIA, which my Congressional Committee oversees, to conduct an independent investigation."

"I am proud to announce today, that the site of the blast off has been identified," Joe announced, his eyes glowing with excitement.

The audience who were eating and half listening now stopped and stared with excitement. Many got out of their booths and tables and crowded around. Hera's eyes sprung to Zeke's as he looked on with alarm.

"A distinctive rocket blast-blackened ring has been found in a broad valley along the Pecos River, near Brantley Lake, north of Carlsbad and east of the Sacramento Mountains. BIA agents in cooperation with scientists at Eastern New Mexico University, and Los Alamos National Laboratories have confirmed that the blast marks are recent and consistent with the ascension observed on the night of December 5th," Joe proudly announced.

He stared at Delores who nodded, and then she rotated her large laptop to the reporter and the two camerawomen.

"These are the first pictures of the blast off site," Joe announced. "Chuck, my men are on the scene investigating, and I believe, more discoveries will be forthcoming."

The first camerawoman focused her camera in on the image which showed a shot obviously taken by helicopter showing a grassy valley along the winding river and a large blue lake in the distance. Joe nodded to Delores and she pressed a key and a digital video started. It was displayed on her laptop as well as being projected on the Crashdown's TV screens. Customers initially crowded in, jarring the camerawoman, but moved back when they saw the images on the TVs. The second camerawoman accepted a set of leads and jacked in the laptop's output to broadcast back to the station.

Delores checked the smaller laptop, and then nodded, telling Joe that the broadcast had been picked up by CNN like he had arranged. She rotated her laptop in his direction, and he could see it was running split screen: his image on the right, and the video on the left. The story was being broadcast live across the nation on CNN, and shortly thereafter was the lead story on CBS, NBC, and ABC. Joe turned back to Chuck and continued to narrate the scene for the cameraman, the excited tourists, and viewers across the nation, and soon after – the world.

"In this video, taken this morning, you can see," he pointed to a black charred ring about 100 feet in diameter, "this is where the ship blasted off. Our scientists are taking samples of the grounds surrounding the site, and of course the actual charred vegetation."

The view changed from the high shot provided by the helicopter, to ground level. Scientists in white bubble suits, donning self-contained breathing units explored the grounds taking samples. New Mexico State police and BIA agents standing 50 yards back provided a ring of security. As the on-site cameraman panned the scene, Black Crow's face, looking mean and determined stared back into the camera.

"I can state there is no sign of nuclear contamination, but," he paused, "the area at the center of the site, away from the charring zone caused by the launch engines, has been vitrified – turned into molten glass." The camera now zoomed into the center of the circle and a red and blue patch that seemed to rhythmically glow red and then fade. "But, this amazing transformation was not caused by heat alone. The Los Alamos scientists say it was created by some other as yet unidentified energy source."

"Our security team has asked that tourists stay off 285 South to allow search parties and research vehicles ready access," he requested, knowing the exact description he had provided would cause a massive tourist influx, just as Antarvé requested in exchange for identifying the blast-off site."

The reporter and tourists mobbed the Congressman, pelting him with questions. Joe Cinnati, Congressman, soon to be candidate for Governor Cinnati absorbed each question and fired back answers, opinions, and conjectures laced with references to Navajo, Hopi, Mesaliko, and Southwestern legends. However, sensing the real action was down in Carlsbad, the crowd began to thin as they took to their cars and headed for 285 South.

Zeke motioned to Hera and she disengaged herself and they stole away to the backroom. The kitchen was empty and Hera turned to him.

"What's going on Zeke? The site he described is more than 100 miles south of the Mesaliko Mountains and the wormhole cavity."

"I don't know either," Zeke answered. "Who'd have the money… and technology, to stage such an elaborate ruse? Unless…"

"Unless?" she asked.

"Unless, this is all just a publicity stunt to continue coverage of the Starship: you know, to keep everyone interested in the launch, and its meaning."

Or, Hera thought, a means to draw away the authorities, leaving Zeke and the others vulnerable to an attack by her father.

Later that day Black Crow, back from his work on the 'launch' site, and his two boys, Silver Eagle and Blue Owl, trudged tiredly out of the forest and headed for their trailer. Each boy carried a freshly killed turkey over their shoulders in triumph.

"That was excellent shooting, Sam," Black Crow complimented his older son. The boy, only 10 years old, but somehow aged prematurely by his tough existence and the early burden of caring for his younger brother and an often drunk father, nodded.

"And that was a fine shot, Blue," Sam offered, seeing his father was not going to compliment his brother on his simpler, but still efficient kill.

Blue Owl beamed, and ran ahead carrying the small bird as if it was a trophy. He stopped and skidded to his knees in front of his 'mother' who was also on her knees tending the fire. "Mom, look what I shot," he exclaimed with pride. "This is my first bird," he gushed. "Will you fix it for dinner?" he asked with excitement.

Ultra looked at the turkey in her 'son's' arms and Blue Owl's beaming pride. She had no idea how to prepare or cook such a bird, but she agreed with a tentative smile and the boy flew into her arms hugging her.

Ultra looked up with a smile as Black Crow and Sam approached. The BIA agent smiled with pride as Sam dropped a second, much larger bird at her feet. "Fix this too," Sam commanded and stalked away.

Black Crow watched as his older son moved to trailer, washed the blood off his hands in a bucket by the door, wiped his hands on his jean's legs, and then moved inside. Moments later, the portable battery-power TV sprung into life.

Black Crow looked embarrassed for his son's rudeness, and tried to explain. "He's having a hard time, adjusting to you coming back," he said. Thinking he needed to reinforce her sense of guilt, to make sure she did not stray, he added: "I guess you're leaving, abandoning him, affected him more that he wants to admit. Give him some time, he'll come around."

Black Crow moved to the trailer and called back, "Come on Blue, time to clean up. It'll take Bonnie some time to pluck the feathers, gut the birds, and get them roasting on the spit."

"That's okay, I'll help mom," Blue Owl offered, happy to stay in the company of the woman his dad had brought home a few weeks before. He recalled his dad gathering him and his brother and explaining the presence of this new 'mom.' Blue Owl knew she was not his real mother, but she was far kinder – having not hit or yelled at him once since her arrival.

He studied her beautiful face. He had immediately taken to the woman, but his brother refused to have anything to do with her, insisting his father find and return his real mother.

Blue Owl smiled as he caught a glimpse of her startling purple eyes. He knew they were really dark brown, but sometimes, when they were alone, and she was perplexed, he caught a flash of that most unnatural glow. He watched her closely now and her face scrunched up in confusion and uncertainty. For all her Indian looks and dress, she had only the most basic idea of how to live off the land, alone in the forest. He could tell she had no idea what to do next, and although he was only eight, he had helped prepared the animals after the hunt for as long as he could remember.

Making sure his knife was ready, he stood and grabbed his turkey by the legs and looked at the woman his father called Bonnie. "Come on, let's move down the valley. We can dress the birds and clean the carcasses in the stream," he offered and held out his small hand. She gratefully took it, picked up the larger and surprisingly heavy bird, as they walked toward the path.

The excitement of the news conference and the announcement of the blast-off site began to wear off as preparations for the New Year's Eve party swung into full gear. Jeff took down the 'open' sign and was about to close the door and erect a 'Desert Inn Party' sign when the Twins reached for the door. Jeff let them in and then locked the door.

Nancy brought out the Bingo cards, alien-themed place markers, and a caged ball tumbler. Alan rushed to her side and took the tumbler from her overstuffed hands. Alex took the cards and set them on the counter. "Is there anything we can do to help?" they asked.

"I thought you'd be out looking for the Enigma party," Nancy replied.

"Enigma?" Zeke replied.

"It's a secret New Year's Eve party," Alan said.

"It's all Rachael has been talking about," Alex added.

"Been going on since Nancy and I were kids," Jeff replied. "You don't want to stick around here," he looked at the old fashioned clock with its sweep hand that indicated 7:33. "In about an hour, there won't be a person in here under 60."

"Every year since," Nancy explained, "since I don't know when, we've held a party for the Desert Inn retirement community. It's a family tradition. We'll play games, play music and dance…"

Hera and Rachael came out of the kitchen carrying boxes of party decorations. "And, at 2230 hours," Hera interrupted, "we'll sing Auld Lang Syne."

"And drink ginger ale out of plastic champagne glasses," Rachael added. "We helped out last year. And… when we thought you had gone… we volunteered… to help again this year."

"But, now the Twins are back, you should go out and find the party," Hera announced as she walked to Zeke's side. "But, I'm sure Zeke would prefer to stay with me," she stated, as she smiled and batted her eyes in his direction. In a baby voice she continued: "Wouldn't you, my big, strong, Zeke, who promised to never leave me again."

Zeke, realizing he was trapped by his own words, smiled and nodded. "Yes, I'd much prefer to stay by your side, dishing out ice cream to the geriatrics, than going out for a night of brawling and decadence," he laughed and then picked her up, swung her around, and kissed her.

"It is tempting," Alan added with mock seriousness. "Stay here and line dance with the Denture Cream set, or go to the party of the year."

"The only problem," Alex interjected as Rachael moved to his side and took his hand, "is we have no clues… no idea even where to begin to find Enigma."

At that time there was a sharp rap on the glass of the Crashdown door. All eyes turned in that direction, anticipating an early attendee. But, instead, they saw Benny and Chevette's faces peering in. Alan and Alex moved quickly to the door, and reluctantly let the gigantic football player and his Goth girlfriend in.

"Hey," Benny uncomfortably exclaimed, as he saw everyone staring at him and Chevette.

"What do you want?" Alan asked.

"Well, me and Chevy, and Jeremy and Becky been lookin' for a while, and not makin' much progress on this Enigma thing. And Becky said Rachael thought she might be able to sneak out of this old people's party if we came by and got her and Alex."

Chevette, hit him playfully on the arm, "You weren't supposed to say that," she laughed. "We figured since you brainiacs are back, you might have an idea, about where to find the party."

"Do you have the list of clues?" Alex asked with excitement.

"Yeah, I copied it down from Mr. Derek's blackboard," Chevette answered and handed a scrap of notebook paper to Alex. Rachael and Alan squeezed in and studied the single clue.

"Okay, it says: 'Your search begins at the site of a gooey parmesan wonder, which is equidistance from its center,' " Alex read. He looked blank as he stared at his brother, Zeke, and the others.

"The Pizza Pan," Alan exclaimed.

"So, the next clue is at the site of the old Pizza Pan restaurant?" Alex asked.

"No, the new Pizza Pan; it just re-opened. Mr. Paniski figured he could make a go of it with all the tourist business generated by the alien ascension stuff," Rachael clarified as she grabbed her jacket and headed for the door. "Come on, times a wasting," she giggled.

Then she moved back to Hera. "This is okay: me booking out on you and the old folks' party?" Rachael asked.

"Sure," Hera laughed.

Rachael moved up close to Hera and whispered. "I told my dad I was staying over at your place tonight. If he calls, cover for me. We're not coming home until we find this party and close it."

"But, I told my mom I was staying at your place," Hera added with a perplexed smile.

"Let's hope she doesn't call," Rachael added with a laugh.

"Somehow, I don't think so. She said she had plans," Hera confided. "It was weird; she was like, you know, mysterious about it. And she was the one who suggested I stay with you, and just said to have a good time and she'd see me in the morning."

Jeremy pulled up close to the door in an old gray van and honked the horn. Alex and Rachael joined Benny and Chevette as they headed for the door. Alan held back shaking his head.

"I might run into Sara," he said as he sat back on a stool by the counter.

Zeke moved up close behind him. "Look, she rejected you. She had her reason… good reasons I admit, but that doesn't mean that you are supposed to stop living. You can't worry that your paths might cross. Go on, they need you." Alan considered, wavered, and then as he saw an elderly, white-haired woman approaching the door, sprung out the door and climbed into the van.

Benny started his truck, and he and Chevette pulled out. Jeremy gunned the engine, pulled Becky tight to him and stole a kiss. As he peeled out, to head across town to find the first clue, Becky opened her cell phone and called. "Meet us at the Pizza Pan, we think the next clue is there," she advised and hung up.

Johnny watched as Sara closed her cell phone and put her light brown, 4-door, Saturn in gear. He looked over and smiled, hopeful her mood would improve. Her mind's been everywhere but with him, he thought. He had observed that she had been moping around ever since she picked him up. He felt frustrated and decided to ditch her if she didn't wake up soon.

Ultra sat beside the fire. The wind had picked up and the temperature had dropped sharply. She could see frost beginning to form on the high grass near the trailer. But, she was warm near the fire as she occasionally cranked the spit handle to rotate the two plucked birds. She was grateful for her younger son's help. Together they had prepared the birds and put them on to cook. She had watched as the boy had buried potatoes and yams into the fire's coals and placed small red berries in a pot suspended over the fire to cook.

She knew they must be starved, but the turkeys took forever to cook. Too close to the fire and the skin would be burned leaving the insides raw. Ultra knew she'd just have to wait. While the small fire roasted the meat, she stared up to the stars. Her back ached and her hands were raw from carrying the heavy birds up and down the path, carrying buckets of water, and turning the spit for hours. But, for some reason, she felt a special attraction to the starry night, and was content to stay out by the fire.

She listened to Black Crow and the boys whooping it up inside the trailer, excited with the progress of the football game on the TV. She could hear the announcers saying something about half time when the door swung open. Sam stared out at her by the fire. He hopped down the steps and walked barefoot towards her; he did not smile.

"When is the food going to be ready, Bonnie? Do you plan to starve us to death?" he asked with a scowl. "But, based on the slop you've been serving, it'll probably be inedible too!" he angrily shouted, tears unexpectedly in his eyes. He turned and stomped back to the trailer and slammed the door.

She was shocked and hurt with his rude behavior. He was a difficult boy, and not easy to love, but he was her son. She could hear him slamming the interior door that separated the small kitchen from the bedrooms. Ultra stood, unsure what to do. She knew he was angry with her, but didn't know why or if she should go to him, or give him his space.

Ultra heard voices at the rear of the trailer, and moved up to the window. She could hear Blue Owl speaking quietly to his older brother. The words were muffled but she could make out parts of the conversation.

"Why are you so hateful to mom?!" he exclaimed. "That was mean, what you said about her cooking. She's getting better, and she tries really hard," Blue stated.

"She isn't our mom and you know it!" he yelled as he flopped down in his bed, angry, frustrated and unhappy. After a moment of simmering silence, he said: "That was pretty mean wasn't it," he acknowledged with a moment of sorrow.

"I don't mean to say hurtful things, but I miss mom so much, and her being here… it somehow… makes it worse when she is so nice. And you're obviously her favorite, she loves you," Sam replied.

"She'd love you too, it you gave her a chance," Blue countered.

Ultra smiled and returned to the fire. She extended her hand for some reason and her instincts took over. She checked again, and miraculously, the birds, still half raw only minutes ago, were now completely cooked. Their skins were a dark golden brown, and a mouthwatering aroma floated up. For the first time, she realized she was hungry too.

She removed the two roasted turkeys from the spit, put them on a tray and added the baked potatoes, yams, and stewed berries. She hoisted the tray on her left hand and walked to the trailer. Ultra opened the door with her right, climbed the three steps, and entered the trailer's kitchen.

She smiled as she saw that someone had set the table for four. Ultra shook Black Crow's shoulder, waking him from a beer-induced nap and handed him the carving knife and serving fork while she pointed with her chin at the two turkeys and pantomimed the carving motion. He awoke and opened his eyes in surprise. He smiled and rose, took the knife and tried to kiss her. But, Ultra deftly avoided his advance and moved back into the trailer.

She knocked once and opened the door to the darkened bedroom. Ultra stepped forward, her back silhouetted by the candles in the kitchen. She extended her hands as she announced, "Dinner is served."

Blue jumped up and took her outstretched hand. Sam remained on his bed, in the dark, rapidly trying to wipe the tears from his cheeks. Ultra extended her hand again, and Sam at first reluctantly extended his hand. Ultra grabbed it firmly and pulled him up. Unexpectedly, she pulled them both to her, engulfing them in a bear hug. "Come on my great big hunters, the spoils of your conquest await," she announced in a loud formal voice and then laughed.

Sam pulled back, caught her eye, and then hugged her tightly as his whole body trembled. He smiled up into her face, realizing his real mother had never demonstrated such a display of love or affection. "Thanks, Mom," he uttered, his voice breaking with emotion. "I'm sorry about… what I said…" he whispered.

Ultra hugged the boys tight, smiled, and led them into the tiny kitchen now overflowing with food and flooded with the sweet aroma of freshly sliced turkey.

Jim pulled up to Amy's door and parked his metallic blue Ford F-150. He stepped out and checked his image in the glossy wax job: dress pants, freshly shined boots, white shirt with bolo tie, and black leather jacket. She heard the engine and moved to the door. She opened it and saw Jim with a bouquet of flowers. She stepped aside and he moved in close and kissed her. Jim gave her the flowers and then took her hand. He raised it so she slowly twirled in front of him. He admired the knee length reddish-orange dress with matching kitten-heeled sandals and the flower pendant that rested on her chest just above the V-neck of her dress.

"Come in, we'll have a drink first. What time did you make the reservations for at Chez Pierre?" she asked as she walked back into the house and pulled out a vase to put the flowers in.

"Ah, actually… I just thought we'd drop by and wait on a table," Jim replied.

"On New Year's Eve?" she asked incredulously. "It'll be booked all night," Amy cried.

"Look, we'll just run by and check," Jim offered encouragingly. "If it's booked, we'll try that new restaurant at the Sheraton on Bitter Lake. I've heard it's pretty good too."

Jim pulled into the Chez Pierre parking lot. It was deserted. But, a half-dozen employee cars were parked in the back row and the lights in the center of the restaurant were on. He pulled up to the restaurant, parked, and they walked to the door. The blinds were pulled, and there was a new, hand-drawn sign that covered the glass on the entrance door. The sign read:

Chez Pierre has been booked for a private party tonight

Sorry for any inconvenience

Please return again, soon.

Amy spotted a section of the blind that was not fully closed. She peeked in. The restaurant was empty except, it appeared, for a single table pulled near the fire. She could see waitresses and bus boys standing around looking bored.

"They're set up for only one couple!" Amy exclaimed.

"One couple!" He walked to the door and knocked. Soon the manager, Guy Forget cracked the door and looked out.

"I am sorry, Monsieur, but Chez Pierre is closed this evening," he announced in English laced with a heavy French accent. He pointed to the sign and continued, "A special party."

"Look," Jim exclaimed, there's no one in there. We could pop in, have dinner, and no one would know."

"I am sorry, no. Mr. Antarvé instructions were quit explicit," Guy stated.

"You've got to be losing a load of money on an arrangement like that," Jim pressed.

"It is, sir, none of your business. But, we are being paid $50,000 for our exclusive services. Each staff member is getting a $1,000 tip, and we are quite content with the arrangements."

"Wow!" Amy replied. "What do you serve for a 50,000 dollar meal?"

"Actually," and here Guy looked slightly uncomfortable, "He brought his own chef, and his own ingredients. He said it was a specialty from the 'old country.' I am sorry, but Monsieur is expected at exactly 2300 hours, and we must prepare. I am sorry, come again," he said.

Jim helped Amy back to the truck. He got in and backed up before pulling out. "Who has enough money to reserve the most expensive restaurant in Roswell on their busiest night of the year?" Jim asked.

Guy closed the door and walked back into the restaurant. He looked around for the hundredth time to make sure everything was perfect. A single elegant table adorned with a freshly starched white linen tablecloth, gold rimmed plates, Antarian royal-green linen napkins, real silver tableware, crystal water glasses and three different wine glasses.

Nodding his satisfaction, he returned to the kitchen. He looked at the tall thin man. He had placed a white chef hat over his bald head but that did not improve his appearance. The strong kitchen lights made his strange eyes and sallow cheeks even more pronounced. The new chef seemed to notice, and slipped on a pair of sunglasses and continued his preparations.

"Mr. Antarvé, I hope you are finding everything to your satisfaction," he inquired as he checked around. He could see crates of fresh seafood, two large drums sitting on a pallet, and a wine case with bottles of red and white wines and a flask of a yellow liqueur. He stepped forward to inspect the label on the wines. He withdrew the dark heavy glass bottle and saw it was emblazoned only with a single golden K positioned within in two interloping swirls of dark green.

Antarvé was busy prying open a crate, withdrawing what appeared to be strange vegetables. He stared back without a smile. "I believe the facilities will be adequate. I am pleased all my ingredients have arrived," he smiled for the first time as he withdrew two blue-red tomatoes. "Tonight, I shall prepare a feast, fit for a king," he laughed. "Do you have everything ready out front? Khivar is very particular, and this is a special night." Antarvé stared at Guy, "You do not want to displease this man."

Dakura sat at the small dressing table in her bedroom. She looked in the mirror and studied her face: dark brown wavy hair, broad forehead, with still-brilliant brown eyes, long straight nose and a firm chin atop a long, elegant neck. She smiled at her vanity, but knew too that her husk had aged under Earth's constant stream of harmful rays from its tiny yellow star. The relentless 100-plus days all summer, the hot dry air, and the freezing cold of winter had attacked her husk, and allowed little lines to form around her mouth and eyes. She wondered what Khivar would think when he saw her again.

She turned away and opened a small box she had retrieved from its secret hiding place. She opened it and withdrew a small photo of the king, dressed majestically after his coronation. He wore a crown of gold with a heavy jeweled broach at his shoulder, and a massive shoulder-length tunic of gold velvet with a royal-green collar laced high under his large chin. A cape of white Delpac fur was drawn around his shoulders and attached with a large pin, its head engraved with the whirlwind symbol. He stood for the photograph such that the cape fell down around him like he was the master of the universe. The photograph revealed his long elegant fingers touching his belt with a dagger in its hilt. Farther down, she could see his powerful legs in dark boots. His face radiated a cruel sneer, and his great dark-green eyes glowed under knitted brows. She ran a loving finger down the portrait studying his long straight nose with broad white cheeks. His mouth was closed in a hard smile curving under his wiry, dark goatee.

"He was a handsome devil. Oh what are you thinking? This is a mistake meeting him, here, on Earth," she whispered to herself. She knew they could never rekindle their love, too much has happened. But, she rationalized he had just asked to meet, to apologize, to explain his return. He had promised that his intentions were honorable and he only wanted to make sure Hera and I were okay. "What harm can that do?"

Dakura looked down into the box. She saw the pages of parchment that were folded neatly. She tentatively reached for the one on top and unfolded it. The parchment was old and the creases were worn where she had opened and reread the words dozens of times over the years.

Her eyes skimmed the page and what she saw made her heart skip. A broad smile creased her lips as she read. Dakura picked up the next letter. It was written on pale pink stationary in her delicate handwriting. She had spilled out her thoughts on paper, never having the nerve to deliver it. She recalled the good times on Antar – and they were good times too, she smiled as she replaced the letters and then the photograph. She slid them into slot in the wall that opened at her touch and then quickly returned to the appearance of an innocent wall.

She knew she should hurry, to get ready before the limo arrived. She didn't want to make Khivar wait. "But, maybe that wouldn't be such a bad idea." She knew the king was sure she'd come running with his dinner invitation. "Maybe I should let him simmer a little, cool his heels, and let him wait for me this time," she laughed.

Sara pulled her Saturn into the Pizza Pan parking lot. She and Johnny looked around at the crowd that filled the outdoor seats and jammed the parking lot with their cars and trucks. But, she sensed her luck was changing when a new red Mustang pulled out and she slid in. Johnny turned to her. "I'm starved. Do you want a slice of pizza?"

"Sure," she smiled: "Pepperoni and jalapeños, and a Cherry Coke."

Johnny walked to the outdoor order window. The line was short, but he still had time to check out the girls as he waited. Julie Lipton came over and started to flirt. There was a loud rumble, and Johnny turned to the left and saw Benny's truck turn in. Benny pulled it over the curb and parked on the grass. Next he saw Jeremy's van follow the truck into the lot and then pull into a slot next to the building. Benny and Chevette jumped out and ran up to him and started talking about the Enigma clue. Becky and Jeremy, followed by Rachael and Alex, and then Alan, exited.

Julie disengaged herself and sauntered up to Alan seeing he was alone. "Aren't you lookin' all hot," she flirted as she moved close and wrapped her arm around him possessively. "You here alone?" she asked with a hopeful smile.

'Ah… yes," Alan replied distractedly as he looked around the restaurant for possible clues.

"I got my car, we could go… look for the party, and get to know each other a little better," she propositioned.

"No thanks. I'm a man on a mission. I'm here to find clues. But, if you want, you can help me search," Alan stated distractedly.

Johnny looked irritated that he had been dismissed when Alan appeared, but his face took on a smile as he saw Alan blow her off. His order was called and he gathered his and Sara's pizza slices and headed back to her car. As he approached he saw Sara staring longingly in Alan's direction. "I thought you were over him," he stated in irritation.

Sara stared ahead oblivious to Johnny, as she spotted Julie moving away after clinging on Alan's arm.

Julie walked towards Johnny. They stared at Sara and could see she was in a daze. He tried to shake her up by moving closer to Julie and wrapping an arm around her waist. This induced no reaction, so he bent Julie dramatically back and kissed her only a foot away from Sara. He looked but still received no reaction from Sara. "We're going to check out the Enigma party," he stated and waited for her to look over.

"What…?" she asked distractively. "Thanks… yes… ah… that's fine," she replied as she took a bite of her pizza, her eyes never leaving Alan.

Johnny looked disgusted, and Julie grabbed his hand and started off with a giggle as they headed for her car.

"Saraaaaa," Johnny called out as he was led away looking unsure and uneasy in Julie's lecherous grasp. Sara exited her car and started to walk towards the order window, where Alan stood, never acknowledging Johnny or his call.

Alan studied the building but saw nothing of interest, then he studied the posters plastered to the walls. Suddenly his eyes widened and he turned and grabbed his brother who was just biting into a slice of piping hot pepperoni pizza.

"Alex, look here," he exclaimed, and then tried to hide his excitement. He pointed and his Twin studied the poster.

Tonight's feature.

Bibli-sandwich: Heavenly ham, lettuce, tomatoes, and jalapeño and next clueese on a toasted sough dough bun.

"You're right. It's the next clue," Alex exclaimed as he and Rachael ran their fingers across the 'next clueese' typo slipped purposely into the poster.

"Bibli-sandwich," Rachael whispered as she and the other kids gathered around. "It has to be something about the bible."

"I bet it's at Saint Vincent's," Chevette exclaimed. "They're having an anti-Enigma party at the church. It would be just like the pranksters to plant the next clue right in the heart of the 'enemy,' " she giggled.

Benny and the others nodded and started to walk towards their cars.

"No," Alan exclaimed. "'Bibli,' like in bibliophile: a collector of books. The next clue must be at the library."

Chevette shook her head no, "Not with that heavenly reference: no way!"

"It's got to be St. Vincent's!" Rachael and Becky declared with squeals as they grabbed their boyfriend's hands and rushed to Jeremy's van.

"Alan, come on," Alex called.

"No, I'm going to the library. It's only a couple of blocks over; I'll walk," Alan stated. Alex looked uncertain, but Rachael grabbed his hand and tugged. Alex took one last look, and then they jumped in the van as Jeremy pulled out of the lot. Within minutes everyone was alerted to the clue on the poster. They gathered around, heard 'St. Vincent's' and joined the exodus. Soon Alan was standing alone as everyone had rushed off to the church.

Alan looked around and noticed he was not, in fact, alone. Sara was standing only 10 feet away. She looked shyly in his direction.

"Look, I'm not bugging you," Alan declared as he saw her staring at him. "I didn't break my promise… I'm just looking for the party."

Sara stared around. For the first time, she noticed that Johnny was gone and they were alone. "I didn't say we couldn't be friends… just not lovers," she commented in a shy voice. "Want to check out the library, friend?" Alan started to smile as they walked towards her Saturn.

Sara drove through the darkened streets and pulled into the library parking lot. A new F-250 double cab filled with laughing kids and a shiny new silver Jeep nearly overload with screaming and laughing college kids peeled out as they entered. She pulled up close to the door in the otherwise deserted lot and looked around. The library was closed and there seemed nothing that could provide a clue to the party's location.

Alan and Sara strode towards the door and looked in at the darkened interior. As they approached they could see the digital clock that radiated out 2316. She looked in and saw no clues, and then turned, disappointed, to Alan to head back to her car. But Alan lingered studying the sign on the door.

Library Closed for the Holidays

Should auld acquaintance be forgov,
And nevei brought to minl?
Should aulc acquaintance a forgot
An auld lany syne?

O auld lan syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet
For auld lang syne!

"Wait. Something's wrong. Some of the words are misspelled," Alan said.

"How can you tell?" she laughed. "That song never made any sense to me."

Alan studied the song lyrics and then smiled. "No," he laughed. "It's the next clue: look at the last letter of every other word." He waved his hand across the poster and the indicated letters sprung up.

ShoulD auld acquaintancE be forgoV,
And neveI brought to minL?
Should aulC acquaintance A forgot
AN auld lanY syne?

O auld laN syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet
For auld lang syne!

Sara stared open mouthed. "Devil's Canyon! That's only about 10 miles from here off old route 40," she cried and jumped in his arms in excitement. Forgetting her new resolve, and falling back into old habits, she moved forward in his arms. Their lips touched for a second and she felt a white explosion of light, a shock like sticking her finger in an electric outlet. It coursed through her body and she quickly sprung back.

I was fooled by my own desires
But, I twisted my fate
Just to feel you
You, you turn me toward your light

She wanted to wrap her arms around him and dissolve in his kiss but she was too scared to go down that path again. Instead, she grabbed has hand and tried to pull him toward her car.

And you're one with me
Will you run with me?

He resisted and pulled her tight and stared deeply into her eyes. She could feel the storm of emotions raging in his body as he lowering his lips and tenderly kissed her. As their lips made contact she was rocked as she saw a glowing red moon hanging high over an island city floating in the sky. The strange sky was filled with nearby planets, moons, and millions of stars that she sensed shone down just for her and Alan.

I'll stay with you
The walls will fall before we do
Take my hand now
We'll run forever
I can feel the storm inside you
I'll stay with you

As Sara floated back to Earth, she smiled broadly. She succumbed to her desires and wrapped her arms around Alan's neck and kissed him again. There and then, she could feel their souls irrevocably merge. She vowed to never let him go. She would do whatever she had to: she would fight any and all for Alan's love.

Now come in from this storm
I taste you sweet and warm
Take what you need

He broke the kiss and smiled.

Take what you need
From me

Alan turned back to the library sign to restore the letters to their original font. Together they ran, hand-in-hand across the lot, and headed out for Devil's Canyon, the party of the year, and the beginning of the rest of their lives.

Now, wake up this world
Wake up tonight
And run with me
Run to me now.

Dakura and Khivar sat in the nearly silent restaurant. Khivar sipped the excellent red wine as he finished his last oyster. He wiped his mouth on the linen napkin and smiled. The manager walked up and held up a camera. The king and Dakura smiled and he clicked the shutter. Instantly an 8 by 10 color photo was ejected from the camera. The manager slipped it into a gold frame and handed it to his client.

Khivar took the photo and nodded as the manager strolled away. Khivar admired the picture and then turned to Dakura and took her hand in his. "How did I ever let you go?" he asked as he stared deeply into her eyes.

He poured her more red wine, and smiled.

"As I recall," she stated as she withdrew her hand, "You threw me out, and then had your goons search the caves for Hera and me. They had orders to wipe us off the face of Antar."

"No," he tried to explain, giving her his most convincing smile. "I was shocked at first; I did not believe your baby could have been my daughter, and I felt betrayed. But, then the oracle, the Priestess of Taur, came to the palace and said you were pure, and the baby was mine and the true Princess of Antar, I knew I must find you."

He turned to her and smiled. She reluctantly let him take her hand and kiss it. "My troops were searching for you, yes, but not to do harm. They were on my orders to return you to the palace," he smiled as he built his deception. "But, they returned with the message that you and the baby were dead," he explained as he used his powers to artificially cause his eyes to glistened, as if shaken by the memory.

Instead, the thought of the visit of the stunning Priestess of Taur filled his mind. He could still see her, dressed in her simple white robes with golden sandals and her hair a mass of iridescent-green snakes. He knew if the priestess had only come to him before Dakura and his little bastard girl had disappeared this would all have been so much simpler.

"Only when the timeline was altered, and I was released from my prior death, did I sense your presence. I was naturally shocked; you and our daughter were, I believed, dead. As soon as I could locate you… confirm it was really you, I contacted you."

"No, you contacted Hera in her dreams!" she exclaimed.

"She's my daughter, I had to see her, I had to…"

Here they were interrupted as Antarvé stepped out of the kitchen. He supervised the serving of the next course, but Dakura paid him no attention, for her eyes were reserved for only Khivar that night. Two waiters, one for each guest, brought out steaming bowls of Heligan-Sea turtle-fins bisque. The king's advisor and chef waited until they had tasted its savory flavor and nodded their approval.

The wine waiter approached and filled the king's glass with white wine. Khivar tasted it, approved and watched as the waiter filled their glasses. Antarvé saw everything was proceeding as planned and slipped back into the kitchen to check on the preparations for the main course.

Two massive steaming vats of water sat on the stove next to a simmering pot of drawn butter. Henri, the Chez Pierre chef, helped him remove the lids on the two blue drums that sat on a pallet by the loading door. Antarvé plunged his hand into the freezing water and pulled out a massive lobster-like creature.

"That will never fit in the pot, Monsieur," Henri declared as he sized up the massive shellfish.

"No," Antarvé laughed, "You serve only the left claw. The rest of the Trism is poisonous. Help me hold it down, and I'll chop off the claw."

Henri clamped down on the squiggling creature, and could feel the cold, rock-like body of the massive crustacean moving under his hands. With one round-house swing of the meat cleaver Antarvé severed the left claw from the Trism.

"Careful, don't let the juice touch your skin. It burns," he advised. Henri watched first with wonder, and then horror, as the juice shot out over the butchers block and onto the long stainless-steel preparation table. He stared in amazement as it sizzled and soon ate through the thin metal table. His eyes flew open as he watched the juices dripping onto the floor as they flashed into small flames.

"Don't worry," Antarvé stated as he poured in a bottle of balsamic vinegar into the simmering vat and then carefully lowered in the claw. "The acid from the vinegar neutralizes the Trism's venom."

Henri tossed the body of the squirming Trism back into its barrel and it thrashed for several seconds. Then it was still, as its own venom paralyzed its lungs leading to rapid suffocation and death.

"Help me with the other, we need to get them on soon, midnight is approaching, and we need to serve them, and the m'alwe, at precisely at 2355," he ordered.

Antarvé watched as the waiters walked out each carrying their covered dish. They removed the gleaming silver cover exposing the large lobster-like claw, and sat one in front of Khivar and Dakura. The king smiled and nodded to his assistant. Taking the offered laser knife, the king efficiently sliced through the tough carapace to expose the glowing red Trism meat. The savory sweet aroma drifted up and all smiled. Khivar nodded, and Dakura tasted the delicate meat. She smiled with the taste of the exotic delicacy, the first since she left the palace. The Trism meat, reported as a powerful aphrodisiac melted in her mouth.

The wine waiter moved close and poured each a glass of m'alwe. Guy turned on the TV and they watched the clock in Albuquerque count down as midnight approached.

Zeke poured champagne-looking peach Snapple into two tall flutes. Dressed in dripping-wet red-boxer style swim trunks, he eased back into the hot tub. He smiled as he handed one to Hera. He looked on with pleasure seeing the straps of her pale violet bathing suit just visible above the bubbling water. They watched the crowd on the TV set by the pool, about to celebrate the beginning of the New Year. She laced an arm around his and sipped the drink from his glass. Hera smiled as she sat her glass down on the redwood bench by the tub that contained their quickly discarded clothes; she kissed Zeke, and then slipped down his chest with a giggle.

Alex lay on the grass with Rachael in his arms. They stared up into the dark star-filled sky. St. Vincent's had been a bust. No new clues were there to be found. Soon Benny, Jeremy and the girls had grown impatient and wanted to check out another party. He and Rachael had begged off and found this spot behind the rectory to celebrate the entrance of the New Year alone. He held her tight, content to have her all to himself. The night had turned chilly, so he snuggled closer.

Alone with their budding love they felt warm and happy in each other's arms. So enraptured with the sensations coursing through their bodies, they did not even notice the small, tightly contained force field that surrounded them, warmed them, and plumped up the thin grass under their backs.

Amy sat stiffly as she stared out the side window as Jim pulled his truck into the booming parking lot of the Pizza Pan. Like Chez Pierre, the Sheraton had been a bust. They had stopped at two other places, only to face a two-hour waits for a table. Tired and hungry, they resignedly had returned to Roswell and the only open-all-night restaurant. Amy listened to the radio and the happy sounds of the New Year celebrations, as her mood changed with the thoughts of new beginnings.

Jim knew he had screwed up, and tentatively placed a hand on Amy's arm. She turned to him, and he expected to see tension or anger in her eyes, but was surprised when she smiled and laughed. Her eyes, soft and welcoming told him she loved him, and screw up or not she would rather be with him than anyone in the world. They leaned forward and kissed.

Alan took Sara's hand as the climbed the hill leading to Devil's Canyon. The sky was alight with smoke from fireworks that boomed overhead. Hard rock music, so loud the ground seemed to shake, assaulted their ears. They ran forward, breached the crest of the hill, and looked down on a band playing on a makeshift stage. Hundreds of kids some dressed in shorts and some in winter jackets, danced to the music, sat alone in the grass, or milled around as another wave of firework rockets flew up into the sky. A group from the local college had brought kegs of beer and they were laughing and singing. The band stopped and counted down the final seconds of the year. At precisely 0000, a set of fireworks was ignited and the numbers 2007 burned brightly. Hoots and shouts rang out as Alan pulled Sara close and kissed her. Then they started down the path, hand-in-hand laughing as they entered the party.

As the clock struck 0000, the staff hugged and Khivar took Dakura in his arm and kissed her. Khivar looked perplexed but tried to join in as everyone sang with the crowd on the TV to Auld Lang Syne. And then Antarvé and the other servers moved back to the kitchen for their own late-night snack leaving Khivar and Dakura to enjoy their meal.

Each ate silently for several seconds. Dakura tried to savor the kiss, but something rang false. Her senses felt somehow alerted to danger but also tantalized: she had drunk so much wine and m'alwe she could not think straight. She sat down her fork and turned to Khivar.

"So, you never really explained. You just dropped in, flew down or however you got here, to say 'hello'?" Dakura asked, hopeful of his intension but also suspicious as she swallowed another large sip of m'alwe.

"I want to make amends. I want us back together, and I want to be re-united with you and my daughter," he pronounced.

He had been the perfect gentleman tonight. He had said all the right words: expressed remorse for his actions and the desire to be re-united with her family. Still, she sensed trouble, a hint of the ruthlessness Khivar was famous for: his inclination to deceive, or if that was not successful to bully everyone around him to get his way. She recalled the words of Priestess Amíle: 'Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.' "

She wanted to trust Khivar, but so much has happened. She decided she must keep him close until she could decide if his intentions were honorable – or not.

© 2006 Roswell the Next Chapter. Unauthorized reproduction prohibited. Any similarities to events, real or imaginary, are strictly coincidental. Roswell The Next Chapter is in no way affiliated with UPN, the WB, Regency Television, 20th Century Fox, or Jason Katims Productions.

The author wishes to give credit to RTFC for some ideas, characters, and words used in this episode, as well as:

The Historian, by Elizabeth Kostova, Little and Brown publisher, 2005.

and

.

Chapter 8: The Caves

by

NickMax

Edited by Candy Cane, faillow, and sdcheesehead

Original Air Date: January14, 2007

Khivar sat in his red-leather chair and withdrew a long hand-rolled sigar from the elegant gilded box that Antarvé offered. The king withdrew the wrapper and tossed it onto the thick, dark-red carpeted floor. Next his servant clipped the end of the 'Magnum 46' and offered the flame from a large gold lighter. Khivar drew in until the tip flared red and then exhaled a large plumb of smoke. Antarvé waited patiently until Khivar signaled his approval, and then the councilor lit his own. The two were silent for a moment, both deep in thought savoring the nicotine that coursed through their alien bloodstreams.

Seeing it was okay to speak, Antarvé offered a comment he thought would please his difficult and often cruel ruler. "That fool Cinnati bought it all. He's thrilled, organizing the media circus far from Roswell," Antarvé announced with a smile. "When do we commence 'Destroy the Four,' Sire?"

"Patience: there is no hurry," the king exclaimed as he blew a smoke ring towards the ceiling. "I am enjoying the pleasure of Dakura," Khivar replied with a smile.

"She is a beautiful and exciting woman."

"And, the only Antarvéian female of my era in a billion light years," the king added with a laugh.

"What of your daughter?" the councilor asked. "When do we draw her into the trap?"

"Dakura is beautiful, but still only a poor cave dweller: naïve, uneducated, and easily swayed. Heraetta, on the other hand carries my royal blood. She will be more difficult to fool," the king considered.

"But, you still think you can use Dakura to lure the girl into your trap?"

"Yes, my dear daughter, and her misguided boyfriend, will lead us straight to the Royal Four… and then, their death," Khivar laughed.

Dakura awoke from a fitful sleep. As she sat up, her head nearly exploded from the after effects on imbibing too much m'alwe the night before. Suddenly she stopped moaning, the thudding in her head was nothing compared to the panic that she now experienced. The royal green coverlet that was spread over her bed was enormous. In fact, the bed was larger than any she had ever seen. The room too, was gladioluses and elegantly furnished. The dark green drapes were partially closed, but she could still see the room from the bright pale-green light creeping in. She surveyed the room and saw a large dressing table by the entrance to a massive marble bathroom. A large couch and two chairs faced a small leather-topped coffee table set before a small fire burning in the fireplace. The unique, sweet smell of burning Mesquite caused memories of her childhood to come flooding back.

Across from the bed, opposite the couch was a small dining table set for two. Even in the darkened room, the gleam of gold around the rims of the dishes reflected back. Crystal goblets sat to the left of each plate.

"Oh, Taur! What have I done?!" she nearly screamed as she looked up and saw the mirrors on the ceiling. Quickly she pulled back the thick Arturian-weave cotton sheets, and saw, to her relief that her underclothes were still in place. To her left, on the obviously un-used portion on the bed, lay her dress, and a sheer dressing gown. She pulled the sheets back and swung her feet to the dark red carpet, and saw her high heels aligned neatly beside a pair of golden sandals.

"Where am I?" she cried out, as she slipped on the gown and worked her feet into the sandals. As she stood, ready to explore the room, there was the sound of the door opening. She turned sharply and saw a short, dark complexioned man in a white tuxedo jacket and a white shirt with a black tie push a small breakfast cart forward into the room. Before she could comment, Khivar stepped in, smiled, and walked to her side.

"I thought you might like a little breakfast before we go and meet our daughter. As I recall, you liked you naoo over easy, your бекон crisp, and your eiffel hot and black." He bent at her side and gave her a sweet, gentlemanly kiss on the cheek, smiled, and pulled out her chair at the dining table. She hesitantly moved to the table and sat down.

Khivar nodded to Landreth, and the tuxedoed servant moved to the windows and pulled back the blinds unleashing a torrent of bright florescent light that sent waves of pain through her temples. Then he stepped to the cart and filled her goblet with a dark juice. The deep teal-blue liquid contrasted sharply with the waiter's white gloves.

"Razenberry juice?!" she exclaimed as she pulled the goblet forward and sipped. "I've not had that in ages! Oh Khivar, this is wonderful," she happily declared as she sat down with a big smile. "Razenberry juice is the only thing I know that can instantly cure a hangover!"

The waiter removed a large cover from a gold-rimmed serving platter allowing the aroma of the fried eggs and bacon to drift across the room. He served Dakura first, and then the king. Finally, he poured each a cup of eiffel before bowing and backing away towards the door. He bowed deeply one final time, and then left.

Pastor Smith walked down the threadbare carpet on the main aisle of St. Vincent's chapel. He approached the modest altar and smiled as he admired the morning sun's rays that poured in through the rows of stained-glass windows. He knelt briefly, said his morning prayer, and then rose on shaking knees and crossed himself. He stood and walked slowly using his aluminum cane through the church to the rear porch of the small rectory. He looked out through the window to the large, frost-covered field he referred to as his garden and smiled again at God's glory.

Deacon Tim Roberts came in with a thermos and the two sat down. After a quick prayer, he poured each of them a cup of steaming black coffee. As the pastor took a sip, his eyes caught an odd sight. He stood and shakily moved closer to the glass. The priest, in his long black cassock stared down at the field. Below him, not 20 yards away, the field showed a perfect circle, 10-feet in diameter, that was incongruously frost free.

"Look, Deacon Roberts. There," he pointed as he nervously fingered the black beads around his neck. "That circle in the grass; why is it not frosted too?"

Deacon Roberts, dressed in a dark suit and 30 years younger than the Pastor, jumped up and looked too. "And the grass in the circle; it's a thick green, not the desert scrub covering the rest of the grounds."

"What… what is that in the center of the grass," the Pastor asked in a tremulous reframe.

"It's… the grass… it has been flattened… a long section intersected with a crossed path… it's…," Deacon Roberts stared in amazement. "It is the sign of the cross! The Lord Jesus has given us a sign! The aliens returned to Earth to restore the faith. That's why they came: to prove the glory of God. We must inform Cardinal Black in Albuquerque. Aliens or not, I'm sure his holiness will want to investigate immediately."

"No! That is blasphemous nonsense! We are God's only intelligent creation. There is no such thing as aliens!" he shouted. "The grass looks no different to me," he lied. "I'll hear no more of this talk about aliens," he sputtered in anger as he took one last frightened look out the window, and moved back into the rectory.

Deacon Roberts stood stunned. He knew the pastor was old and slow to change, but how could he deny the proof staring up at him from the field below. His obligation was to his flock; his congregation was young and they would surely believe.

He stared out and knew the sun would rise shortly and melt the frost. "I must somehow preserve this sign for the glory of God, or at least document it, before the circle is destroyed by the sun," he whispered and then pulled out his cell phone. "Chuck, this is Tim, from St. Vincent's. Can you come quickly? I've got breaking news… and bring your cameraman." He listened for a minute. "Just come, immediately. You won't be disappointed. This could be the sign we've been looking for: the reason for the alien's return," he explained and then hung up. Immediately he placed a new call to alert the faithful.

The regulars began to appear at the door to the Crashdown. Jeff swung the sign in the window from 'Closed' to 'Open' and allowed them to enter. He had just turned on the five flat-screen TVs to the KROZ morning news when Zeke pulled into a space in front of the restaurant and parked. He jumped out, laughing. He opened the door for Hera and they waltzed in.

"You look pleased with yourself," Nancy noted as she walked in with a pitcher of fresh squeezed orange juice. "Did you find the Enigma party?" she asked with a smile.

"We… we…," Zeke stumbled as he looked to Hera, not sure what, or how much to say.

"We had our own… pool party," Hera exclaimed with a giggle.

Jeff turned to Hera with a disapproving stare. But, before he could comment, Benny's truck and Jeremy's van pulled up. The kids rushed in, laughing and talking excitedly.

"So, you guys found Enigma?" Nancy asked.

"No, but we found two other parties, and then returned to close down the St. Vincent anti-Enigma bash!" Chevette declared. "I'm starved. Could I get some eggs?"

"We're going to need pancakes and coffee," Benny exclaimed.

"And juice and bacon," Becky added.

"And fried potatoes and waffles with lots of syrup!" Jeremy requested as he sat down and pulled Becky near him.

Zeke was standing beside Hera, holding her hand as he smiled at the new 'regulars.' Suddenly it dawned on him that neither Twin was with the group. "Where are Alex and Alan?' he asked, trying to keep the urgency from his voice?

"Don't know," Becky replied. "They split up."

"You mean Alan went with Alex to another party?" Hera asked.

"No," Jeremy clarified. "Alex and Rachael came with us. Alan, he took off on his own; had some crazy idea that the next Enigma clue was at the library."

"Alan and Alex split up?!" Zeke asked in disbelief as his concern intensified.

Chevette nodded as she took a long swallow of juice. "Sure. Alex came with us and Alan took off with the cheerleader, what's her name."

"Sara," Hera added, now ever more confused.

"I mean, the Twins aren't joined at the hip or something, are they?" Benny asked with a laugh as he dug into the pile of pancakes that Jeff had slide onto the table.

"Actually, I don't think Alex and Rachael ever left the church grounds," Chevette added with a smirk. "I saw them heading off for the little park behind the rectory… you know… for a little alone time," she giggled with a knowing smile that did nothing to relieve Zeke's growing anxiety.

Suddenly there was a break in the morning newscast projected on the Crashdown TVs: a 'Breaking News' sign was flashed, followed shortly by the live image of a white-haired, deeply tanned anchorman. He turned to his cute Navajo co-anchor, smiled, and then returned his gaze back to the camera.

"This is Larry Brass at KROZ. We have breaking news," he smiled showing all his capped white teeth. "We go to St. Vincent's and our Chuck Crash reporting live on a startling new development."

The image shifted to the field behind St. Vincent's and Chuck speaking to a young clergyman. Deacon Roberts smiled at Chuck, turned, and pointed. The cameraman panned to the field, stopping at a circular frost-free disk. The thick green grass, so obviously different from the sandy, brown turf was clearly displayed on the TV. Next, as the short, curly-haired reporter interviewed the Deacon, the cameraman zoomed in and it was clear that the grass had been mashed down as if a couple had laid down, their legs, middle, and head forming a large straight section, opposite their outstretched arms. It looked, as the Deacon had said, as if it could be a crude cross.

"And you found the circle this morning?" Chuck asked.

"Yes! The day after the reporting of the lift-off site, this sign appeared. I can assure you it was not here before the alien reports. It is a sign! Jesus has sent us a sign, to repent, and be saved by his glory."

Chuck turned away from the Deacon, who continued to babble on. He turned to his cameraman, stroked his goatee, and shook his head before he summarized the situation. "Something very strange is going on here Larry, we'll keep you informed of any new developments."

The picture on the TVs returned to the studio. "Yes, it's incredible, Chuck," Larry intoned excitedly. "Wait…," he paused as he listened to his earpiece, and then smiled happily. "This story is being picked up live by CNN. Chuck, can you interview the Deacon again?"

The action returned to the church grounds: the picture from the camera swung around wildly, and then re-centered on Chuck who was seen running up to Deacon Roberts with his microphone in his right hand. Suddenly the sun broke over the top of the church roof flooding the garden with golden sunlight. The cameraman refocused on the frost that seemed to nearly glow in the morning sun and then quickly began to melt. He panned to the small crowd that had gathered and he captured the concern in their eyes as they feared the 'sign' would disappear too.

But, the melting frost only served to intensify the startling transformation that had occurred. The circle of grass, a vibrant, almost day-glow green seemed to pulse with energy. As the Deacon stood next to Chuck who was now broadcasting live, the grass within the circle seemed to grow another half inch before the startled eyes of all.

"My son, this means," the Deacon exclaimed to Chuck as he pointed to the grass. "The Roswell aliens are among us! This sign was delivered long after the ship departed. They have returned, for the glory of God!"

Boris Rousakis was collecting his hat off the rack. As he began to flick off the light, he surveyed his large, but still dingy Moscow office, located on the top floor of the 'Directorate for Special Projects' building and shook his head in disgust. Even the new brass name plate, with the word 'Director' did not improve his disposition. He fidgeted, unsure if he should leave: he thought he would have heard from his CIA contact by now.

As he debated, he caught his image in the mirror by the door. He looked back at the sagging white flesh that hung from his large, fat jowls, his thinning brown hair and his large nose which was spider webbed with tiny red veins from his pint-a-day Vodka habit. He rubbed his sad gray, watery eyes, put on his coat and prepared to put on his hat when the phone rang. He moved anxiously to the phone.

"здравствулте" Boris intoned.

"In English, please, Colonel Rousakis," a strong American voice requested from the phone. "There has been a new development. Is your man in place?"

"Da," the Colonel replied. "We make contact, Agent Burns," he replied in broken English.

"And our 'friends' are still in Tunguska?"

"Da. After the report of the aliens' recent visit ta Roswell, we checked. Dey still there… it wasn't them. Maybe dey are, as dey say, just tourists that liked it so well that dey stayed. I mean, dey can't be in two places at da same time."

"Not unless they have a 'transporter,' " Burns answered.

"A transporter?"

"Like on Star Trek. Maybe they've got a cloaked ship circling the Earth, and Scotty can beam them up from Russia and down to Roswell, and back, and no one would notice," he argued.

"Who is dis Scott?" Boris asked in confusion.

"Never mind, we need to find out for sure. We've been tracking a homicidal madman across the Southwest for nearly 50 years. He has left a trail of death and destruction, and then suddenly it stopped… at precisely the same time you reported the appearance of your Visitors in Tunguska. I've got orders to prove it one way or another. Tell your man to visit their camp and prepare our friends for a vacation to America," he laughed. "We'd feel more comfortable dealing with them on our own turf," Burns explained.

"I'll wire transfer 100,000 US dollars into your account today," Burns continued. That should be enough for you to bribe your compatriots and arrange the Visas," and, he laughed, "and a little left for you and your efforts. We've been researching this for some time, developing different scenarios. Your ballet is coming to America, get the kids onboard."

"Our Visitors can dance?" Boris asked in amazement.

"No, not as dancers, in some other capacity: we'll need you to devise a suitable cover story."

Boris considered: what Burns was asking would be dangerous. He had been acting on his own when he broached the subject to the Ambassador's attaché, a known CIA spy, at the last Embassy reception. What was being proposed now would be suicide if discovered by his superiors.

"No. Two hundred thousand. What you ask is dangerous. You Americans are rich, and I know funding for your 'Special Projects' office is unlimited."

"Convince them to come, Boris and there'll be another 100K deposited in your account," he offered.

"Da," Boris replied as Burns hung up.

The Director slowly replaced the phone, took off his coat, and smiled, excited with his negotiations. He began to think of how he would spend the money. Boris debating who to call first, his mistress or his Tunguska counterpart; laughing, he picked up the phone and dialed.

Khivar sipped the last of his eiffel, arose, and kissed Dakura's cheek. He stood behind her and ran a hand seductively down her temples and neck. He lingered on her bare shoulders noticing the small tattoo-like blemish where the two halves of the husk joined. In addition to the seal cavity, located at the base of the back, this was the only other tell-tale sign of a husk. From a side pocket he withdrew an emerald and diamond necklace and gently fastened it around her elegant neck. He kissed her cheek as she turned to him. He nodded and then smiled as he left her alone to dress.

She felt refreshed and followed him with her eyes as he closed the massive oak door. Sitting alone, she studied the necklace that caught the lights from the dressing table and seem to sparkle as no diamonds she had ever seen. She began to comb her dark brown hair when she realized she was happy; fulfilled and excited with the feeling of being in love for the first time in ages.

As if transferred back across time, she could feel herself sitting on a similar bench in front of a similar dressing table. But that table was on Antar. Her mind drifted and she recalled Antar. She had not always lived in the lap of luxury. Her days before Nicholas found her in the camp, when she was known only as Paglia, had been one of freezing nights and melting days: never enough to drink and never enough to eat. She recalled how she had come to Khivar's attention, being swept up from the caves, near starvation, to the gilded pavilions of his estate near the Heligan Sea. She could almost feel her elevation to consort status all those years ago.

Flash.

Paglia stood at the well behind a dozen other Antarvéian woman, all dressed in similar light tan jilbabs. The long traditional robe-like dress and the head scarf were practical; they protected the woman from the sun's rays and the harsh sandstorms that frequently tormented the cave dwellers. But this afternoon, the winds were calm and the sun beat down unmercifully. Paglia removed the drab brown scarf from her head and brazenly shook out her long beautiful hair. She knew the head scarf was mandatory, but she also knew she was different. As long as she could remember she had been an outcast: dumped at the entrance to the caves when she was still a baby. She was young and her experiences had made her a bit of a rebel. And anyway, everyone knew the scarves were too confining.

She moved forward, hoping the well's water supply would hold out, when there was a commotion to her rear. The other women dropped their water jugs and fled, but Paglia hurried forward to the circular stone structure and dropped the bucket down the long well. It hit with a satisfying splash and after it filled, she began to haul it up. As the strain of lifting the full bucket taxed her strength, the arm of a leather-clad warrior reached across her and easily lifted it up and out.

Paglia turned, startled, and stared into the hard, dark eyes of a short, stocky soldier standing in front of another officer. The man was handsome in a brutish way. His dark hair swept back in a short ponytail, his deep brown eyes blazing with vitality, and his confident stance shook her. The gold K emblazoned across his shoulder boards showed he was an officer of Khivar's Zymes tribe. He smiled at her, almost as if concluding his search had been successful, before he lifted his hand to touch her face. Suddenly she realized she was without her scarf and turned and began to run. But, with one quick step, he caught her arm and roughly pulled her back.

"I am General Nicholas, leader of the Zymes army, and this is my second, Colonel Antarvé. We serve Lord Khivar, master of all that can be seen from the Talus Vortex to the Sei Mountains to the Heligan Sea. What is your name, wretch?" he demanded harshly.

Paglia struggled in his grip, but he was strong. She was surrounded by twenty black-clad Zymeian storm troopers. Antarvé strode forward with a threatening swagger, and she studied his ugly white face, bald pink scalp, and unnerving silver eyes. Paglia was a child of the caves, and if necessity, very resourceful. She realized escape was impossible, so, she quickly changed tact.

"I am Dakura, Sorceress of Sei. Unhand me, before I turn you into a toad!" she threatened, with a sneer. She raised her shoulders in a superior manner, adopting a regal stance, hoping they could not see through her outrageous lie and her shaking knees below the jilbab.

Nicholas appeared startled and released her hand. He knew she was not really Dakura, for he had met the Sorceress of Sei. But, the young woman did resemble the powerful sorceress, and she did have spirit. He smiled and decided to play along, trying not to laugh as he recalled the young woman's outrageous threat.

"Forgive me, Sorceress. I did not know," Nicholas explained in a well-disguised apology. He turned sharply to his troops and nodded his head violently, causing them all to drop to one knee in a sign of respect for the bold young woman.

"Taur is dropping rapidly in the sky, and the temperature in the desert will fall quickly, Sorceress. My ship is near, let us return you to your temple," he offered, excited to see how she would respond.

The young cave girl pretending to be Dakura, who had begun to breathe again after she saw that he had bought her preposterous declaration, was suddenly thrown into another impossible position. "No… that is not necessary. I will simply apperate when I am ready to return," she boldly declared.

She held her head high: imagining this is what the real Sorceress would do. But, her nerve failed her, and she stole a quick glance in Nicholas's direction. She was shaken as she saw the laugh in his eyes, and knew that he had not believed a word of her tale: he had simply been playing with her.

"Please, Sorceress," he pleaded while trying to not break out laughing, "return with me to Khivar's estate. My master would never forgive me if I did not insist," he requested.

She shook her head no, and then suddenly his expression changed from a playful smile to a sneer. His rough gloved hand struck out and bit into her arm. "But, I insist," he growled as he led her to the silver transport that hovered in the distance.

"Dakura, honey," Khivar's voice rang out, pulling her back to the present. "It's time to go." She trembled, and turned on the ornate dressing stool before the large mirror to stare at the king. She was in the caves on Antar 60 years ago one moment, reliving her past, and then the next moment jerked back to reality.

She desperately tried to regain her composure and called back, "Just a moment, 'Khirvy.' I'm an Earth woman now. It takes us a little longer to make ourselves presentable," she said.

Zeke was becoming concerned, unable to telepathically connect with the Twins, and was sensing disaster, when Hera's cell phone rang. She fished it from her purse and flipped it open.

"Yes?" she whispered into the receiver.

"Where are you?!" Sara exclaimed. "You were supposed to come back to your house after the party."

Hera motioned to Zeke to join her, and they listened to Sara's urgent request.

"Rachael's dad is going to show up any minute, and it's a little hard to fake a sleep over when neither the host nor her mom is at home. Please…"

"Have you seen Alan?!" Zeke interrupted.

"Sure, he and Alex are here with us. Where did you think they would be?" she happily exclaimed.

"Hera, can you come over? I better get home soon, too. I've been gone all night, my cell phone's been ringing every fifteen minutes, and I can sense my parental units are starting to get suspicious," Sara cautioned.

"Oh, by the way, we found the party," she giggled.

"The Enigma party?!" Hera asked amazed.

"Yep. Alan figured it out. We climbed up this hill and this fantastic party was playing out before us. The band was rocking, fireworks were flying, and we ran down into the pit. He swept me up into his arms and we danced. Then Alan looked kind of lost before he went into a trance or something for a few seconds. Then he smiled, and before we knew it Rachael and Alex came running up giggling as if they'd been beamed down from the Enterprise," she laughed.

"I've never seen a girl's face so red," she whispered into the phone. "What did Alex do to her? Rachael's eyes were about ready to pop out of her head, and they both were breathing heavily and had the silliest, goofiest grins on their faces. Stranger still, Alan was acting the same way."

"I… I don't know…," Hera stammered, turning a bit pink in the cheeks.

"Have you been holding out on me, Hera?" she laughed. "Do they have some special powers or something? Just exactly what did Alex do to make her act that way? And more importantly, when do I get to join the club?" she giggled.

Khivar took Dakura's hand, as they exited the elevator to the underground garage. He walked confidently to a large black Land Rover and opened the door for her. She sat down on the plush leather seat as he slid in behind the wheel. Khivar backed out and started forward when the door to a dark green van opened. A thin bald man exited carrying a bag of groceries and walked to the car. The skeletal man with his pale white face and silvery eyes bent to speak to the king through the open window. Dakura's mouth fell open in recognition. His naked cranium, with only a wisp or two of golden hair lingering in the neighborhood of his ears, looking like some monstrous pink pearl. Dakura drew back in revulsion.

Khivar nodded to his advisor. "Keep me informed," he directed, before pulling forward: his brusque command coldly dismissing Antarvé.

The car wound up from the underground structure, and a solid wall slid back as they approached. He pulled the car onto a large black-metal platform. After a short pause, it rose swiftly. With a solid 'clunk' the platform slid home, and Khivar pulled out and off the elevator platform onto a rutted dirt trail and turned east. She turned back to inspect his house or the hotel where they had stayed, but saw only a desert trail. Then to her amazement, a platform holding brush, cactus, and dry scrub slid back into place, over the elevator. The flat desert expanse appeared undisturbed, leaving his underground lair completely hidden.

She turned to the window and stared blankly out. The sight of Antarvé's silver eyes rocketed her memories back to her time on Antar.

Flash.

The ship drifted down to the estate grounds and smoothly docked at the east spaceport. Nicholas grabbed her arm and directed Dakura to the transport station where they were beamed to the surface. Antarvé and the other troops soon followed.

Khivar, dressed in a dark pants and highly polished boots with a flowing white blouse was waiting. She had heard of Khivar, as he was the ruler over the land of her birth, but never had actually seen the all-powerful Lord of the Manor. She inspected Lord Khivar. He was a handsome man with piercing eyes, long straight nose, broad cheeks, and a cruel mouth.

"What is this!" he exclaimed in anger as he stroked his wiry, dark goatee and strode menacingly towards Nicholas. "I sent you to gather intelligence of the rebels' attacks, and you spend your time with the cave trash," he exploded as he stared cruelly at the girl at the General's side.

Nicholas appeared to be unprepared for the outburst of anger. He turned to Dakura and seemed to fumble for an explanation. "She's not cave trash, my lord, she is… she is…," he frantically searched for a plausible explanation, and then seemed to hit upon the only idea he could conjure up on short notice. "This is Dakura, Sorceress of Sei."

Khivar affected a look of distaste as he inspected the emaciated, but still striking young woman that stared unblinking back at him. He kept his face steady, revealing nothing as he strove to keep from laughing.

Dakura did not break a smile, and did not let her focus waver. She knew that the slightest sign of weakness would be all that was needed to puncture her façade. She stared at him, her strong chin held high, and offered Khivar her hand. He approached, appearing unsure if he should bow or strike her. But, in a split second, he made his decision. With one smooth movement, the king took her hand and dropped to one knee before he kissed it.

"I am honored, Sorceress Sei," he said as he regained his feet. "Please join me for some m'alwe."

For the first time she deemed to acknowledge the king. She stared as if inspecting a disgusting bug, but then nodded as if she too had made a decision and graced him with a small, superior smile. It was her best, most beguiling smile and knew it had the desired effect. He smiled broadly and offered her his arm. She took it, and he led her past his guards towards the east entrance to his palatial estate.

She recalled it only vaguely at the time, but later realized the importance of Khivar's next action. Lord Khivar smiled to his General, as if his servant had completed a strategic acquisition. The contrast rang sharp in her mind now. She should have been alerted to the change, for only moments before Khivar had barked at Nicholas for insubordination.

Later she would realize this was all part of the Khivar's plan. She had unwittingly been recruited into his plot to overthrow King Zan, and usurp his throne. But on this day, and for many happy months thereafter, Dakura was relieved to have survived and excited with the prospect of life away from the caves, away from the harsh sun and – life – with Khivar: his estate, his food and m'alwe; lots and lots of m'alwe.

Isabel and Alex sat alone on a snow-covered outcrop not far from their Siberian camp. Both were dressed warmly in wolf-skin coats and boots. Alex stared at Isabel's smiling face through the fur that fringed her hood and smiled too. He took her gloved hand in his and smiled before pointing to the dark northern sky. He was pointing out Andromeda and Pegasus when he stopped suddenly and closed his eyes.

"What is it Alex?" Isabel asked, concern etching her pretty face.

"Someone is coming," he stated, extending his powers out, trying to identify the intruders. He smiled and stood, then pulled her up. He directed her silently through a stand of pine trees and pointed to a hill. Within seconds two teams of dogs crested the hill and headed down towards them. They watched as the strangers approached.

Isabel saw a short, broad-shoulder man dressed warmly in a long wolf-skin coat and long dark boots step down from his sled and pat the heads of his dogs. He took the hand of a petite woman who was bundled against the cold and harsh winds. Isabel immediately recognized the Tunguskian villagers and waved as she and Alex walked towards their new friends.

The four moved along the side of one of the five huts that extended like spokes from the central structure and headed for the main entrance. Alex opened the broad pine door to let them in.

The noise alerted Max and Liz. She jumped off his lap and the two moved quickly forward. "Viktor and Katharina," they exclaimed. Max and Liz could see their faces were lit with excitement, and they shook their friend's hands as he welcomed them in.

"They're back!" Katharina exclaimed as she moved to the fire to warm her hands. "The Roswell Aliens, they've returned"!

"It's on the News," Viktor explained as he withdrew a printed copy from the CNN-International website from his coat and handed it to Max.

By this time the rest of the Four and their mates had gather and were listening attentively. Michael grabbed the printout from Max's hand and studied the report. He read it out loud.

Aliens Return to Roswell

CNN, January 2, 2007. Excited UFOologists, tourists, and true believers are flocking back to this small town in Southwestern United States. Once known as the UFO capital of the world, its luster had waned since the infamous 1947 crash. But, all that changed with the widely observed blast off of an alien ship from the nearby mountains four weeks ago. The site of the blast off has been identified and an international team has been organized to investigate the strange and unexplainable evidence left at the scene. And now, fresh evidence has surfaced that the aliens did not leave, but rather may have dropped off a new contingent of otherworldly visitors.

Reports of the strange visitation to the town on New Year's Eve or the morning of the first have been verified. A beacon, announcing their return was left in a field behind a church in the town. The sign, in the form of a circular patch of grass reminiscent of the black disk that swallowed up the space ship on December 5th, was deposited for all to see.

Michael stared at the picture on the printout. It showed a dark green disk of thick grass that stood out dramatically against a frost-covered field. The area in the center of the grassy area was clearly mashed down. The others crowded in and stared at the picture too. Ava however ignored the report and smiled up into Viktor's face. He smiled broadly as he stood close to the pretty blonde alien, both lost in each other's gaze. Maria took the second page of the printout and continued to read:

Speculation is running high on the meaning of the sign. The US Army is sending a contingent of troops, explaining that it is only a cautionary measure, and no need to panic. Major Altec, Air Force spokesman, reiterated that no hard evidence of an alien visitation had been uncovered, and there was no need to panic.

Deacon Roberts believes the symbol in the grass is a cross, and is evidence of a religious basis for the beacon. He has invited religious leaders and true believers to inspect the sign for themselves. In response to the announcement, crowds are flocking to the town to see the alien sign firsthand.

However, many locals dispute this interpretation, and insist that it is a message sent by the new Visitors imploring all fellow aliens to return to Roswell.

"Alright, this clinches it!" Michael shouted. "We have to go back to Roswell. We've been stuck here on Earth since the Granolith crashed. This is a message… a call for us to return. Our people have returned and they're searching for us."

"We've been over this before," Max shot back with exasperation. "It's too dangerous. Someone may well be looking for us…

"But," Isabel interjected, "is it to welcome us, or…"

"Or, to kill us," Alex completed her sentence as he stood with his arms draped protectively around his tall blonde wife.

"It doesn't make any difference," Kyle pitched in. "We have no money, no means to get to America, and even if we did, we'd be stopped the moment we tried to clear customs."

"Actually," Katharina broke in, "there is a way. Our world-famous Royal Tunguska ballet is set to tour across the American southwest, with stops in Los Angeles, Phoenix, and Albuquerque. Viktor said he could pull some strings, as you would say, and all nine of you could be included as stage hands," she announced.

"So, when do we leave?" Michael queried excitedly. "It won't help to get there a month after the ship departs."

"Actually, we leave Monday afternoon, on a Tunguska Air commuter to Noril'sk for two performances and then on to Vladivostok," Viktor explained. The ballet performs four shows the following week. Then, in a few weeks, we fly Aeroflot to Los Angeles. By the following evening, we will be in America, with proper entrance Visas, and a ready excuse to travel to New Mexico.

"We?" Ava asked as she stared up into Viktor's bright blue eyes.

"Yes, we: you don't think I'd let you go to that moral wasteland without my protection," he laughed as he swept her up in his strong arms.

Michael nodded with satisfaction.

"In only a few weeks, I could be hugging my mom," Maria whispered as she started to cry, and was folded into Michael's waiting arms.

"Wait," Serena insisted. "We've got to do this right. We have to check out who's out there: friend or foe."

"It would be a perfect trap: make an international scene, plant a story that aliens should return to Roswell, and then wait for us to fall into their clutches," Kyle cautioned.

"Are you saying I can't see my mom and dad?" Liz asked in disbelief.

"No, not right away," Max advised and he pulled her to him. "It could endanger them."

"We'll slip into Roswell, and check it out," Serena said.

"Then, if it's safe, we can meet our parents," Kyle smiled broadly as he hugged Serena.

Zeke and Hera pulled up in front of her house. He grabbed her hand, and they ran from the SUV to their friends. Alan and Alex tried to apologize for their extended absence, forgetting their prime responsibility to protect the Prince in order to pursue their own pleasures. But Zeke ignored their apologies and swung his arms around their shoulders, smiling that they were safe.

"Blanca called while I was driving over. She talked Brody into making a pork and sauerkraut brunch and she's getting irritated that were not there yet," he explained. "If you think you can tear yourselves away from the girls," he laughed, "We better get going."

The boys again looked embarrassed, and nodded. Each went to their girlfriend, explained, and gave them a kiss. Zeke whispered something to Hera, laughed, and climbed back into his white Ford Explorer. Alan and Alex climbed in and he started the engine, and then turned to Alan.

"I guess, congratulations are in order," Zeke offered mysteriously as he faced Alex. "It makes sense you would complete your cycle early, like everything else in your life."

Alan could not help from smiling. Alex beamed with pleasure.

"I knew that apperating would be a thrill," Alex commented. "And, of course I've heard Uncle Max talk about how great it is to apperate with the one you love, but still…," he smiled sheepishly as he blushed. "I could never have imaging the thrill…," he explained excitedly.

"It was psychedelic… mind blowing…phenomenal," Alan effused.

Zeke looked questioningly at his cousin. "Did you take Sara for a little ride, too?" he asked surprised.

"No," Alan laughed, "But, whatever Alex feels… I sense, too. And I caught a whiff of the jolt, and, it was something…!"

Zeke started the engine and all three virgins laughed as they exchanged recollections of their 'first time.' They all were laughing as Zeke pulled away. Only Alex noticed Julie Lipton and Johnny Ford; he thought it was odd that they sat in her car and watched – almost like they were spying on them.

Sara agreed to run Rachael home, and the two girls jumped in her Saturn. She pulled out her cell phone and hit the speed dial. "Mom, this is Sara. Look, I know I'm running a little late, but I need to drop Rachael off. I'll be home in a few minutes," she continued as she pulled into Hera's driveway. "Oh, yeah we had a great time. Mrs. M made popcorn, and we sat up and watched movies into all hours. I'm pretty exhausted."

"That's very interesting," Mrs. Ferguson said as she and her husband pulled into the gravel driveway in front of Hera's house, followed closely by Rachael's dad in his Taurus.

Mrs. Ferguson's face was pale and it was clear she had been crying. She hesitated a moment, opened the door to the Silverado dual-cab truck and then ran across the lawn to her daughter and wrapped her in her arms as she cried.

Colonel Ferguson, still wearing his Air Force uniform, looked disappointed as he shook his head. "We came by at midnight: you forgot your toothbrush. The house was empty and we called Hera's every hour, but there was never an answer. Your mother called Jackson, and he said Rachael was staying with Hera too. I don't know where you were last night, but you were not here."

"You didn't answer your cell phone, and… and we've been worried sick," Mrs. Ferguson said, her voice trembling.

"Your mom insisted we come over here and wait as soon as it got light," he said. He held out his hand and motioned, "The keys and your cell."

She walked forward, head down, and put them in his palm. Sara tried to look repentant or embarrassed, but instead only a short giggle escaped.

"Where were you?" Mrs. Ferguson asked.

"We just went to a party… the Enigma party!" Sara exclaimed with excitement.

"Well, I hope it was worth it," he cautioned. "Consider yourself grounded. I want you home as soon as school ends. No car, no cell phone, and no running around with your 'friends' for a month!" he exclaimed.

Sara looked at Rachael and the two girls smiled broadly. In unison they commented: "Oh, it was worth it!"

"This was the greatest night of my life," Sara exclaimed as the two girls began to giggle.

Colonel Ferguson was shaken, his mind running wild with images of sex, drugs, and rock and roll. "I'll drive the Saturn home; you ride with your mother," he barked sternly, still dismayed with his little girl's satisfied smile. "We're going to have a long talk when we get home."

Rachael's dad towered over the Fergusons and clench and unclenched his fists in frustration as he listened. He pointed to his Taurus and stammered with anger, "Get in the car Rachael, you're grounded, too!"

Hera looked stunned at the turn of events. As she turned to watch them drive off, she noticed Julie and Johnny sitting in their car spying on her. It struck her as a little creepy as she turned and walked down the short gravel path leading to the small covered porch. She rounded the scraggily jacaranda bush, and moved up the steps, across the porch, to the front door. She had just opened the door and set down her purse when she heard a car pull up. The engine noise was unfamiliar and crunch of the tires on the gravel somehow ominous. Immediately her defensive instincts were activated, and she turned, partially in fear, but somehow knowing exactly who and what was waiting for her.

She walked back along the path and stared from behind the bush at a new Land Rover. A tall stranger jumped out. Hera surveyed his long elegant fingers on the door handle and his powerful build as he opened the door for her mother. But it was his eyes, the great dark-green eyes that seemed to almost glow under his broad knitted brows that gave him away. She gasped in recognition: he was not as handsome as he had portrayed himself in her dreams, but was still a striking man.

Then she saw her mother emerge. She knew it was her mother, but her appearance, the subtle lines on her face and hands, the dulled hair, and her slightly bowed shoulders were gone. Now her eyes sparkled and Dakura looked 10 years younger.

"Hera, there you are," Dakura said with a smile as she walked hand-in-hand with the stranger towards her. "I know this is going to be a shock. But… this man is Khivar… your father."

"Khivar!" Hera cried out as she stared at him with a mixture of longing, fear, and repulsion. She immediately noticed the warm relation between Khivar and her mother, their hands together, and the look of that passed between them like two infatuated teenagers. She saw the reflection of the diamonds at her mother's throat, and Dakura revitalized appearance. She started to smile, but then suddenly recalled her mother's explanation of the rape and her conception.

"Mother! How can you stand to be near the man who raped you?! How can you hold his hand… and look at him like that?" she screamed. Then, as she saw the embarrassed look in her mother's eyes, her bowed head and averted eyes, she knew. "No freakin' way," Hera gave a mirthless laugh. "You lied to me, didn't you? He never raped you! You just slept with him. You are not the Queen, and I am not the Princess. You're just a slut, and I'm just a bastard!" she cried out.

As Khivar took a step forward, his hands out imploring for the opportunity to explain, she turned and started to run as the tears began to fall down her cheeks. But, he was not used to his will not being immediately and totally obeyed and was not about to begin now. He sharply raised one hand and directed his mental forces out to her; she screeched to a halt but continued to struggle and thrash against his mental binders.

"Stop right there young lady," he commanded. "No one has sacrificed more. No one has loved you more than your mother. I will not have any daughter of mine speaking that way to her mother. March right back here and apologize," he told her.

Hera stopped struggling and looked shocked. She had had no fatherly influence in her life; she was fully grown and naturally resisted anyone telling her what she must do. Still, she knew her words were, no matter how accurate, cruel. She felt the binding slacken and then fall away, knowing that he had released her from his mental grip. She turned to them, wavering and unsure what to do.

"Hate me, if you must," he said. "Hate me for not knowing I had a daughter. Hate me for not showing you the love you deserved, not being there when you were young, not holding you and wiping away your tears when you fell, or complimenting you, or counseling you about school, life, or young men. But do not be cruel to your mother," he implored. "I can't stand it. Her love is complete, unquestioning, and never ending. She loves you more than anyone in this world."

Hera took a tentative step in their direction, unsure, but was moved by her father's words.

"Let me explain… let us explain… before you judge," he asked in a voice low and laced with emotion. "I have visited your dreams. I know… let me be the father you have longed for. Let me try to make up for all the years I have been away," he pleaded.

Hera felt like a little girl again. Stung by the questions of the other kids about her father, lonely and unloved as she saw the other kids surrounded by loving parents, her longing so strong she feared the other kids would see. All her thoughts and musing over the years rushed back to her: 'Why did he leave me?' 'Did I do something wrong?' 'Did he ever love me?' 'When will he come back in his silver spaceship and whisk me and mom back to our palace?'

She moved quickly to her mother and fell into Dakura's outstretched trembling arms, crying. Hera hugged her mother, but looked up into Khivar's loving face, and her heart, hardened against the butcher of Antar for so many years began to melt.

He moved close and tentatively reached out his arm to embrace the two. He watched as Hera stiffened briefly, pleading with his eyes for a chance to make amends. She was captured by his glowing green eyes and nodded her head, just a fraction of an inch, but he took that as a yes.

Khivar, king of Antar, scheming, conniving, and treacherous Khivar, felt something new. His heart was moved for possibly only the second time in his life. His eyes filled with real tears as he wrapped his arms around them in a long, tear-filled embrace.

© 2007 Roswell the Next Chapter. Unauthorized reproduction prohibited. Any similarities to events, real or imaginary, are strictly coincidental. Roswell The Next Chapter is in no way affiliated with UPN, the WB, Regency Television, 20th Century Fox, or Jason Katims Productions.

The author wishes to give credit to RTFC for some ideas, characters, and words used in this episode, as well as:

The Historian, by Elizabeth Kostova, Little and Brown publisher, 2005.

Chapter 9: Fathers and Daughters

By

NickMax

Edited by Candy Cane, faillow, and sdcheesehead

Original Air Date: January28, 2007

Khivar stood before the large double mirror and examined his clothing selection: dark Delpac-leather walking boots, Arturian wool slacks neatly pressed, Oso-hide belt, and a pale cashmere polo shirt with a dark green whirlwind symbol above the pocket. Antarvé stood behind him and nodded.

"You look very sharp, Sire; dressing for a special occasion?" Antarvé asked as he helped Khivar slip on a dark Oso suede jacket.

Khivar smiled, his eyes shining with excitement. "Yes, I'm meeting Dakura for breakfast and then we're going to drive up into the mountains; maybe stop at one of the reservations."

"I was not aware you were interested in Native American culture."

"Well, I'm not really. But, we wanted to do something together, and the tourist books said it would be an interesting trip." He tried not to show his excitement and hid his smile as he turned away.

"Your work to endear yourself with Dakura and her daughter seems very effective. When will you spring your trap"? he inquired.

"Trap?"

"Yes, the trap… the deception… Have you forgotten the reason for this liaison, to gather the location of the Four, so they can be eliminated," Antarvé asked. "Your life… our lives… are not safe until they are destroyed. The Royals could reverse the altered timeline at any moment… and… we would cease to exist."

Khivar looked sobered for a moment, his excitement checked. Then he reconsidered and smiled. "I think we have plenty of time for that," he stated, dismissing his councilor's fears.

"Sire, about Hera… her skin…," he questioned, hoping to maneuver the conversation to Hera's impossibly perfect husk. After all, Hera was born soon after the King ascended to the throne. That was over sixty years ago. If she left Antar soon after, the protective husk, needed by all full-blooded Antarvéians should have surpassed its useful life, and yet both Dakura and Hera's skin were perfect.

Khivar swung around with a big smile and cut Antarvé off. "She's handsome isn't she? Just like her old man," he laughed lightheartedly. "She's wonderful: pretty, bright… and so full of life. You know, I never realized what I was missing. Finding my daughter has been the best thing that's happened in this life."

Antarvé could see that line of attack was not working, and shifted to another tact. "But, Sire, when we kill Max and the others, Hera's boyfriend, Prince Ezekiel will surely retaliate. He remembers both timelines, and will know you are the only one to gain from their death."

"Then, we must kill him too, and his little Twin cousins and of course his Royal Protectors," Khivar commented distractedly. He continued to stare at his image in the mirror, his mind still on his rendezvous that morning. He considered ending their lives a trivial problem.

"Yes, I agree completely. But, your daughter, I'm afraid she will not understand the necessity of their deaths. I fear that the strong affections you have built up in the weeks since the New Year will be destroyed. She will hate you, and… you will be hurt. Isn't it better to break it off now?" he beseeched.

Khivar turned sharply to Antarvé and grabbed him by the neck and pulled him close so he could stare into his councilor's bulging silver eyes. "I will never give up Hera! You never had children, so you can't understand the bond between a father and daughter." He unleashed Antarvé and the thin balding Antarvéian struggled to regain his breath. "I will just have to make her understand," Khivar said as he turned and strode confidently out of the room.

Antarvé watched the departing figure of the king and slowly rubbed the red tinged area around his neck. He knew his king was a fool. He knew Hera could not be the king's daughter. "She's no more his daughter than I am," he mused.

He knew if the king took one long look at her he'd know; but Khivar was blind when it came to his precious Hera. He knew she was not encased in a sixty-year old husk. She could not be Antarvéian, and she could not be the heir the king so desperately desired.

But, he knew he dared not tell him. The king did not entertain bad news gladly. He didn't want to end up like Nicholas. He recalled that the General warned the king about Dakura while they were still on Antar, and the General was sentenced to 50 years of slavery, cast down on Earth, imprisoned in the never changing body of a snot-nose, pimple-faced adolescent until he slowly withered away and died.

He knew it was his duty to make him see. But, he knew he had to be subtle. If done properly, the king would think it was his idea, his decision to cut himself off from Dakura and the imposter – after they had eliminated the Four.

The bell for the class rang and Mrs. Lavigne dismissed her class. She looked at the students, and could see many were unhappy as they turned in their French pop quiz. She watched Hera as her young student stood and put her paper in the basket. Hera had changed since the Christmas break; she now seemed somehow older, more sophisticated. Her posture and her poise shouted importance. That, and her new tailored uniforms, silk blouses, and expensive, hand-crafted designer shoes all painted the picture of a wealthy young woman. She carried herself with a regal air and everyone sensed it. In some it would have come across as stuck up, but Hera radiated only charisma. Several of the teachers had noticed, and had begun to refer to Hera behind her back as 'Princess Montanan.' Lavigne watched as the 'princess' walked elegantly out of her class.

Hera entered the hallway flooded with other kids and saw Sara and Rachael waiting for her. As she moved through the crowd, other students stopped to smile and say hello, others seemed to bend and maneuver so her path to her friends was uninhibited.

"Still in the doghouse for sneaking out to the Enigma party?" Hera asked Sara with an understanding smile.

Her friend, dressed in her cheerleading outfit for the JV basketball game that evening, nodded. "Mom or dad picks me up after school every day, and all I do is study, sleep, or go to school."

"Dad gave up on my 'grounding' after a couple of days," Rachael said. "You still can't talk to Alan?" she asked concerned. "No phone or Internet"?

"Nope," she replied with a smile and a twinkle in her eye. "But, Alan and I… we have found other ways to stay… close," she giggled, and then turned away and started walking quickly to her next class. She bumped into Johnny, who was standing nearby eavesdropping, as she tried to hide her blushing face.

Khivar pulled his black Land Rover into a slot in front of the Crashdown and then moved around the car to open the door for Dakura. She had wanted a cup of eiffel before their trek up to the Mesaliko Reservation and the mountains, and this was the only shop on Earth where it was served.

They approached the door and saw the 'Closed' sign still displayed. Dakura rapped on the glass and Jeff rushed to the door and pulled the sign back with a look of excitement, then a disappointed frown covered his face for a second before he regained his composure. Any other customers he would have turned away, but he recognized Hera's mother and invited her and the stranger in.

"Good morning, Jeff," she called. "Do you suppose you could get us a couple of cups of eiffel?"

Jeff did a quick appraisal, knowing she would not mention the Antarian drink to an earthling. He nodded and stepped behind the counter and poured a packet of the dried orange, black tea into each of two ceramic mugs. He filled them with cold water, and put them on a tray before returning to the table.

Khivar took one look at the cold water, and the black crystals littering the bottom of the cup and stared up in surprise.

"Hera always heats it herself," he replied to the stranger's questioning stare. "She said I ruin it when I percolate it or when I add boiling water."

"Jeff, you know I have no powers, just microwave it," she requested.

"Nonsense," Khivar remarked. He ran his hand over the cups and the water immediately turned black and issued the strange burnt organic-peel aroma that was distinctive of the drink. Steam rose from the cups, and Dakura took a sip. She smiled and nodded.

Jeff studied the powerful stranger as he moved back to the counter, but his mind was soon on another subject. He lifted the newspaper that he had dropped over the picture frame before being interrupted. He stared down at the picture of Liz, dressed in her blue graduation gown. Her square mortarboard sat cocked at a rakish angle on her head. Her happy smile radiated out at him and his heart broke all over again.

"Where are you Lizzy?" he whispered. Why had he been thinking of her so much these last few weeks? Why was he so disappointed when it wasn't her at the door? "I so need to see your smiling face again. Please Lord, return my daughter to me," he begged.

Khivar pulled the Land Rover up the rutted mountain road and into the Mesaliko Reservation. The hysteria over the alien ship had faded and moved to the south. Tourists were now flocking to the blastoff site located over 100 miles away. He stopped the SUV behind the only other tourist car and they got out and walked along in the pleasant morning sun. Dakura stopped and inspected the trays of handcrafted Native American items displayed on long tables.

She picked out a silver and turquoise ring, and the king withdrew a roll of hundred dollar bills and paid the astonished girl. News of the high roller quickly spread, and soon he and Dakura were surrounded by a dozen Mesaliko artisans, as they each tried to hawk their wares.

Eddie noticed the commotion and moved up to Meta who stood stock still beside her table. She stared unblinking at the man, her eyes wide first with amazement, then wonder, and finally fright. He looked at the crowd surrounding the two tourists, and then back to Meta.

"What is it? You look as if you've seen a ghost," he stated, taking her hand and leading her away.

Meta grabbed up her knitting and hurried up the trail. The tall, slender Canoian Duchess turned her head and stared back as she ran. As the man and woman turned to walk in their direction, Meta ducked her head into Eddie's shoulder, turned, and urged Eddie to move faster.

"What is it?" he inquired as they reached the safety of the woods. He could almost smell her fear as she moved rapidly down the path and finally stopped deep in the forest. "Do you know him?"

"He cannot be here," she hissed. "He is dead! Max and the others killed him."

"Who?" he asked. "Who's Max?" he shook his head. "There has not been a killing in our village for over sixty years," he stated in disbelief.

"Maximillian D'tharthé, King Max," she explained, "He slew the evil lord in a tremendous firefight over the skies of Roswell. Zeke said half the city was destroyed!" She stared at her only friend on Earth, but Eddie continued to look back in confusion.

"Max… you know, Zeke's father," she tried to explain.

"I'm sorry, I'm sure I'd remember if anyone destroyed Roswell." He moved close and wrapped her in his arms. She held him tight, her body trembling in fear and confusion.

Suddenly she leaned back and stared up into Eddie's face. "Of course: Max reset time before he left Earth. You cannot recall that other timeline… but I… and the other Taurians on Earth can. King Khivar has been released from his death, resurrected with the return to the former timeline. Khivar can only be on Earth for one purpose, to eliminate the Royal Four.

"We must warn this Max," Eddie replied. "Where is he?"

"I have no idea," she replied and turned away in frustration.

"Then we must warn Zeke," he said, and then immediately regretted it.

She turned and her face drained of color. "I'd love to tell Zeke, and Ultra, and my father, but they are gone."

Eddie rushed to her and wrapped his arms around her holding her tight. He had inadvertently brought up the most painful moment of young duchess's life: the departure.

He recalled Meta's tale. She and Ultra were in the ship ready to reenter the wormhole to return home. But the boys had not come. The ship's clock had wound down, and the departure sequence had been initiated. As the ship rose up, out of the cave, Ultra had heard Zeke calling. Her best friend had stopped time to allow them to board. Meta had run after her friend and was beamed down too, but the ship was already many feet above the mountain peaks. When she landed, she was knocked out. When Meta awoke, cut and bruised, she was alone.

Eddie recalled when he found her, and together they searched the hillside. But, there was no sign of Ultra, Zeke, or the Twins.

They had seen the reports on the TV, and knew the ship had arisen in the sky and was swallowed up in to the portal across the galaxies. Ultra, Alex, and the others had returned to that other world. Meta had been forsaken, abandoned here on Earth.

She had returned to the cave, but Eddie had come every day. He had done his best to comfort her, and they had grown close, eventually closing the cave opening and moving into his tiny trailer. But he knew she longed for her own planet and her own kind.

Meta gently pulled away from his embrace, and looked up into his eyes. "Where is River Dog?" she asked as she stood on her tip toes, leaning up so she could kiss Eddie. "Your grandfather will know what to do…," she stated with conviction as she wrapped her arms around the young Mesaliko shaman and held him tight.

Days passed and life began to return to normal in the city and at West Roswell. The final bell rang, and the kids scattered for their lockers. The three girls gathered their jackets and moved towards the exit. Alan and Alex swooped down the hallway and wrapped their arms around their girlfriend's waists. Hera watched for a moment, smiling, and then moved on as she saw Zeke walking down the hallway towards her.

She ran up and gave him a quick kiss. He took her book bag as they exited the building and started towards the student parking lot. As Alex and Alan stepped out of the door they lingered a few feet from the tan-brick walls. They watched Sara and Rachael get into Col. Ferguson's truck and drive away.

Zeke hit the remote unlock and was opening the door to the white Ford Explorer for Hera when they heard the sound of a car with a powerful engine come zooming up.

Hera and the others turned and saw a big Land Rover screech to a halt. "Daddy, what're you doing here?" she asked with a smile.

Khivar opened the door and stepped out. He greeted everyone politely then moved to Hera. "I thought you might want a little more practice before your driving test," he asked as he turned and extended his hand towards the still running Land Rover.

"Ah… sure, dad," she smiled. Hera took her book bag from Zeke, kissed him quickly and moved to the shiny black SUV and slid in behind the driver's seat. Khivar gave them all a nod, turned, and opened the passenger side door. He stared at Zeke for a moment before he slid in. Hera shifted the car into first and smoothly released the clutch to pull up to the line of student cars making their way out of the lot.

Zeke was trying, for Hera's sake, to be civil to her father, but he instinctively distrusted the king. She had explained that he was not the tyrant everyone had described, but really a caring and loving father.

He turned away from the line of cars to his cousins. "Well, I guess it's just us guys again," Zeke observed as they watched Col. Ferguson's truck turn east and Hera turn west in the Land Rover and proceeded to speed down the highway.

A week passed and the big drivers-test day finally arrived. Khivar stood behind a set of plate glass windows and sipped day-old coffee from a Styrofoam cup. He watched Hera in designer jeans, new Delpac-leather boots, and an expensive knit sweater walk out with the examination officer and enter the Land Rover. The officer tried to maintain a gruff disinterested attitude, but one look showed he was under the spell of the beautiful young woman. The king watched with pride as she expertly maneuvered the large car forward. Hera moved the SUV between the pylons, backed up with one smooth effortless motion, parked, and then waited for further instructions. At the officer's direction, she pulled forward and out onto the dusty country road.

Seemingly only minutes later she pulled back in and parked in the lot. The officer could not hide his smile as he nodded and handed her the evaluation form. She took it and saw a 98 circled on the top. Hera started to complain the score was not 100, but then just smiled and shook the officer's hand and returned to the Bureau of Motor Vehicles office.

She happily hugged her father in excitement. "Daddy, I passed!" she exclaimed.

"I knew you would, you are a good driver, and always under control," he complimented her. "Get you license and we'll celebrate."

"It'll take hours, the place is jammed," she apologized, knowing the king did not like to wait.

As she turned she noticed other kids and their parents staring at her. She was amazed as she walked forward: everyone seemed to step aside allowing her to pass to the front and quickly pick up her photo ID driver's license. She looked in confusion until she noticed most of the kids and their parents still held crisp, new hundred dollar bills in their hands, and knew her father must have offered compensation for preferred access.

"Where should we go?" she asked with excitement as she moved quickly to the car.

"Head north, to Portales," he instructed. "I have a surprise."

"Oh, I love surprises! And, I love you!" she giggled and hugged her father again and took his hand and nearly dragged him forward. "I love having a mother and a father. Mother was great, is great… but having another person who loves you unconditionally, it's wonderful," she pronounced with happiness.

"I have the perfect life, perfect parents, a perfect boyfriend, and… just everything," she gushed in awe as she opened the door and slid behind the wheel.

Hera pulled out and accelerated sharply, then saw her father's concerned gaze and slowed. They drove along in quiet for several minutes, Khivar occasionally giving her directions as they approached Portales. She drove down the busy business district street and turned at Khivar's direction into King's Mercedes.

Hera opened the door and stared at the new cars. Her face was covered with a broad smile, hoping this is what she thought it was.

"Now that you've got your license," Khivar pronounced, "I thought you should have an appropriate automobile." He led her into the showroom and pointed to a dozen large dark, four-door monstrosities. But Hera's eye was caught by an elegant, gold two-seater Mercedes convertible parked just outside the door. She moved up beside her father, wrapped her arm around his and smiled up into his eyes. Then she turned and pointed at the convertible.

He started to object. He knew it wasn't as safe, it wasn't as practical, but, before he could refuse her wish, he melted as he looked down into her large green eyes. He signed and nodded slowly, then turned to the manager. "My princess wants the roadster," he smiled. "Have it detailed and delivered tomorrow."

The manager, who had stood nervously watching, nodded effusively. "Yes Sire: tomorrow. We'll drive it down to the Princess's address in Roswell. We can have it there first thing in the morning."

"Or," the salesman who had joined the manager offered, "you can take it now."

"We can return the Land Rover to your house, Sire," the manager suggested.

Hera turned and looked up with hope, and Khivar laughed. "Yes, we'll take the convertible now." Hera moved up and hugged her father, and then ran out to the convertible. The salesman followed and began to point out the features. Soon the convertible top was being retracted into the trunk.

"Return the Rover to Roswell this evening," Khivar ordered as he watched Hera through the showroom windows. "Leave it at the Crashdown. I'll pick it up later."

"Yes, Sire. As you wish, Sire. And… about payment… for the car…," the manager asked and then realized his mistake seeing the glare in the king's eyes. "No, no need… consider it a gift, Sire," he quickly added.

Khivar looked happily out the window and then turned. "Nonsense, of course I will pay." The king withdrew his wallet and removed a 100,000 credit bill. He handed it to the manager, who stared at the image of the king emblazoned on the blue and green bill and smiled.

Hera flipped out her new cell phone and dialed as she waited for her father. The phone rang and rang. "Zeke, where are you," she muttered. The 'leave-a-message' began and she started to speak when her father walked to her. She flipped the phone closed and slipped it back in her large purse.

The salesman withdrew his camera and pointed to the front of the car. Hera and Khivar posed as the salesman snapped out two Polaroids. He removed the instant photos from the camera. Khivar took one, and the salesman placed the other in a golden frame before handing it to Hera. She took it, admired the happy scene, and slipped the frame into her purse before sliding behind the wheel. The top was down and her eyes shone with excitement showing she was ready to leave. Khivar opened the passenger-side door and bent his long muscular frame effortlessly as he entered. Before he had even buckled his seat belt, she peeled out and tore down the busy street.

Sara sat on a cushioned chair next to the glass topped picnic table and read. The sun was sinking, but there was still enough light to see. She sipped a Diet Pepsi and started to flip the page when she heard the door from the garage to the deck open, and her father enter.

She looked up and studied him. He was a handsome man, and still young, one of the youngest full bird Colonels in the Air Force. But, the little wrinkles around his hazel eyes and firm, authoritarian mouth showed the effects of stress. He had been re-assigned when all the alien business made front page news, and was under constant pressure from Washington to deliver answers. She knew her escapade on New Year's Eve had not helped. Sara smiled inwardly, wondering what her father would think if he knew his precious daughter was dating one of the Roswell aliens.

"Hello dad, hard day at the office?" she asked.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," he replied with a forced laugh as he sat down heavily in the chair next to hers and opened a can of Bud Lite. After a long swallow, he set the can down and turned to her.

"Sara, your mother and I talked. We think you have been punished enough, and we're going to cut your grounding period to 'time served,' " he laughed and took another swallow. "We're not trying to be overprotective, but you are the only daughter we have. We love you, and know you just got caught up with some bad kids." He took another swallow, finished the can, and started playing with the pull tab, not looking directly at her. "That's why… we feel… that it would be better if you didn't see…Alan, and…"

Sara interrupted. "Don't say that! Don't say I can't see Alan!" she cried. "I love him! He's not just another boyfriend. He is the one."

She took her father's hand and stared into his eyes. "I love you and mom. You are great parents. Don't make me choose between the boy I love and the parents I love."

She stood and walked around to sit in her father's lap. She hugged him and he could feel her body trembling in his arms. She pulled back to look him in the eyes, "You said when you met mom at the USO show in Salt Lake City you 'knew.' She was the one," she pleaded.

"That was different. I was older."

"You were still in training, and only 19; that's not that much older than me," she reminded him.

"But... I…," he stuttered. "You're still a child," he argued. "You're not mature enough to be making life altering decisions," he weakly argued.

"Can't you trust your daughter to know when the man of her dreams comes around? You knew when you met mom, and you acted. Alan is smart: top of his class. He's funny, and charming, and he comes from the best family," she argued. "And," thinking this might help, "he's rich."

Col. Ferguson hesitated, knowing Cindy would give him the silent treatment for a week if he did not insist Sara stay away from the new kid his daughter seemed so infatuated with. But, he knew his daughter. She was not flighty, and he trusted her instincts.

Sara could see her father was hesitating and jumped in. "You don't really know Alan. Let me invite him over so you and mom can meet him… before you make such an important decision. I could invite him and his twin brother over for dinner. You'll see; you and mom will love him too."

Colonel Ralph Ferguson was used to taking charge. He was decisive, sure in his instincts and ready to give orders that would affect the lives of thousands. But that was his professional life. Decisions on a personal basis, balancing the demands of his often difficult wife and his desire to maintain the love of his daughter, he found much more difficult. Still, what Sara had asked was both persuasive as well as fair. He had never really met the boy, and it didn't seem right to make such as big decision without hearing him out. He pulled his daughter to him and hugged her before releasing her. "Sure, that sounds like a good idea."

Sara squealed in delight and hugged her father again. "You won't regret this. Alan is wonderful," she exclaimed. "His whole friggin' royal family is wonderful," she whispered, and then sprung off to call Alan.

Ralph, not understanding the 'royal' reference started to rise, to ask more, when Cindy entered onto the deck. She saw the big smile on Sara's face as she rushed by and looked confused. Suddenly she understood and set the tray with two wine glasses and a cold bottle of chardonnay on the picnic table, took a seat, and turned to her husband with a frown. She folded her arms and waited with an icy glare.

Antarvé open the door and carried the breakfast tray to the stand beside Khivar's bed. This was his favorite time of the day, and he made sure breakfast was ready so they could witness Taurrise. He stared up at the hemispherical ceiling and smiled at the sight. The walls and ceiling, actually large video display screens, shimmered. The last pale glow of A'marillo, Antar's ivory-colored and smallest moon, and Hades the large red moon began to set as Taur broke across the horizon. The Taurrise was beautiful, staining the low flying clouds a chorus of gold, salmon and red. The third moon, Troisième, was high in the sky and glowed silver white in the rapidly lightening sky.

The councilor turned back to the king, smiling as he absorbed the images of home. The king sat down in his red-leather command chair and Antarvé set the tray of exotic fruits, steaming eiffel, and a new, freshly trimmed sigar before him.

"You arrived home late, Sire. I hope nothing is wrong."

"No, nothing. Hera picked out a car at our place in Portales. She loved it of course and then she wanted to drive around. We ended up at her restaurant in Roswell."

"I see," he added, trying to hide the irritation in his eyes. "I had prepared dinner, your favorite, and… when you did not call…"

Khivar failed to pick up on his servant's disappointment. "The food, it's actually very good. We have nothing like it in the palace. You should stop by and take an inventory before we depart."

"Yes… yes, Sire."

Khivar stared up as Taur's rays filled the room. He pushed aside the fruit and finished his eiffel. He was ready to get up and waited impatiently for Antarvé to remove the tray. "Are you okay?" Khivar asked with a trace of irritation as he stared at his distracted servant. Antarvé moved quickly to his side and flicked open the lighter.

"No. No more sigars. Dakura says they stink."

"But, Sire, we have shared a sigar in the morning for years," he complained.

"Well, no more; get rid of them. And remove this tray," he barked. "I want to start my bath. This husk thing is starting to irritate me."

"Yes, Sire. Your bath is ready," the councilor exclaimed. "I set the husk maintenance book on your bedside. You may need to add the moisturizing gel to the water too."

Khivar ignored Antarvé's advice and barked another command. "And, another thing: Hera complained that Roswell is filled with tourists, TV reporters, military, and cops. That is not acceptable. I thought the whole point of creating the blastoff site was to get rid of them."

"Yes, but then this circle appeared in the grass behind a church in town. Religious leaders have… it's caused… it is now a media circus."

"Well, get rid of it. I want this town cleared out of all these outsiders," the king commanded as he picked up the book and walked towards the large bathroom.

Zeke pulled his Explorer through the morning traffic and into Hera's gravel driveway and waited. She usually hurried out the minute he pulled up, and Zeke looked questionably to Alan and then to Alan. "I better check on her," he concluded and jumped out of the SUV and walked to the door. He rapped on the glass and was relieved when it opened.

"Oh Zeke, good morning," Dakura beamed. "I'm afraid, Hera left early."

"Did Col. Ferguson pick her up?" he asked.

"No," she answered surprised. "Hera got a car last night after she passed her driver's test. Didn't she call you?"

"No," Zeke replied a little uneasy.

"She wanted to drive to school. I think she was going to pick Rachael up on the way."

"Okay," Zeke replied with a sense of foreboding. "I know Hera's been saving her tip money. What did she get?"

"Oh, Khivar bought her a little something."

Zeke returned to his SUV and backed out, then headed for West Roswell. Within minutes, he pulled into school. They were running late and he had to park in the very rear of the large lot. As he and his cousins walked through the student lot towards the school, he sensed trouble, a subtle shift in his universe.

The three boys entered the school, passed through security, and then moved in different directions to stop at their lockers before the homeroom bell. Zeke saw Hera and Rachael and moved in their direction.

As she closed her locker, Hera saw Zeke approaching. She smiled and ran to him. "Oh, Zeke, I tried to call you. Daddy got me a new car. It's fabulous."

As she started to tell him about her new Mercedes, the bell rang and Rachael hauled her towards their homeroom. "Meet me after school, I want to show you my new wheels," she giggled and then hurried to her class.

The final bell rang, and the kids scrambled out of the high school. Hera ran up and grabbed Zeke's hand. She half pulled him out to the lot, excited to show him her new car. As she approached the sporty gold convertible, she withdrew her remote. With one touch she started the engine, and with another she caused the top to rise up and fold neatly into the trunk.

Sara and Alan admired Hera's new car. Then as Sara giggled, they walked hand-in-hand with Alan to her Saturn. They entered and soon pulled out.

Rachael took the clue from Sara and dragged Alex to the Mercedes. With his left hand on the headrest and the right on the doorframe, he neatly lifted himself up and into the passenger seat. Rachael climbed over the door and sat on his lap. She turned back to Hera and Zeke, and blasted the horn as she laughed excitedly. Hera looked excited too, kissed Zeke on the cheek and ran to the Mercedes.

"We're still on for tonight?" he called. "I'll come over at six and we'll check out Blockbusters."

Hera nodded, blew him a kiss, and then slipped into her car. She peeled out and zoomed to the end of the line. She was going too fast and had to slam on the brakes. A collision looked imminent, but somehow the new car swerved at the last second and ended inches away from the bumper of Benny's pickup truck.

Chuck sat at his desk, bored, editing an interview with the Roswell Garden Club. He and his camerawoman Lisa had spent all afternoon with a half dozen retired women. They had insisted that they could add new insight into explaining the appearance of the amazing grass circle that sparked all the 'Aliens Return to Roswell' hoopla. He reviewed the piece and knew he'd be lucky to capture more than 15 second on the 1800 hours broadcast, and then only if it was a slow night.

The phone rang and he picked it up. "Chuck Crash, KROZ News," he answered.

"Chuck, this is Tim, Deacon Roberts from St. Vincent's. Are you watching the video of 'The Circle?' " he asked in a wavering, shaking voice.

Chuck swiveled in his chair to his computer, clicked on 'Favorites,' and then on 'Roswell Circle.' Suddenly a live shot from the church's mini-cam filled the screen. However, the picture was not of the circle of thick grass, that was initially so exciting but which had quickly become very boring. To the right of circle now spread a long curving arc. It continued to grow, and as it completed the arc, he watched in stunned amazement as it passed over to the other side. The picture, outlined is vibrant green, now showed the circle with an encompassing loop that looked like a cartoon of a flying saucer. Then, as suddenly as it formed, the loop and the green circle began to fade. Before his eyes, and everyone else in the newsroom, the new disk and the circle returned to the sandy, barren grass that immediately blended in with the rest of the field behind the rectory.

Chuck looked stunned. He realized he still had the phone in his hand. "What does it mean, Deacon Roberts?" he asked.

"It means the aliens have left Roswell," he replied.

Another reporter yelled out. "Switch to the launch site!" Chuck said goodbye, and made two new clicks with his mouse and an aerial view of the blast-off site with the large black fire-scarred ring appeared on his screen. The station manager walked to his side and they watched as the view on the screen focused in on the center of the ring. A small green circle was now present, and growing. It spread rapidly outwards. The tourists were pointing and shouting. People began to climb under the line of red ropes that cordoned off the area. They moved forward as if drawn into the circle. Guards quickly fanned out and tried to force the crowd back.

Within minutes news spread to the TV networks. While millions watched in fascination the circle grew until it had enveloped, and obliterated, the black ring. Next the grass in one segment of each of the four quadrants of the circle began to turn black. The dying grass formed four identical square blocks each about six feet by six feet.

"What are they trying to say?" Chuck asked his manager. "What is the significance of four squares?" he asked.

"I have no idea, Chuck, but this is the story of the century. The aliens are trying to communicate with us. Take Lisa and the mobile broadcast van and get down there. I need a live report ASAP"!

"Sure boss," Chuck hollered as he and Lisa ran for the truck.

As Zeke stepped to the door he popped a piece of spearmint gum in his mouth. He ran his hands excitedly through his hair and knocked on the door. He could hear music playing in the background, but there was no answer to his knock, so he rapped again. The volume of the song dropped, and he could hear light, feminine footsteps heading for the door. He imagined Hera in sexy, low-cut jeans, a tight t-shirt, and a big smile.

Hera answered the door, but she was not as he had dreamed. She was in a short, sleeveless party dress with thin straps that crisscrossed across her back. The dress was woven from an elegant, black material that complemented her dark nylons. She opened the door with a questioning look, and then with an embarrassed, awkward smile. She opened the door wider and ushered Zeke in. He stared at her; she was more beautiful than ever. Her short brown hair was pulled up and accented with fresh blonde highlights. Her makeup showed just a hint of eyeliner to highlight her bright green eyes, and dark red lipstick to accentuate her full, sensuous lips. She wore Dakura's new diamond and emerald necklace. In her hand she had a pair of matching earrings.

Zeke could tell something was off, but plowed ahead. "I love getting dressed up too, but, this seems a little over the top for Blockbusters," he offered with half a smile.

"Oh, Zekey, I completely forgot," she cried and pulled Zeke into a hug. "Daddy called and he was able to get first row seats at the orchestra tonight. Mom was going too, but she got called back to the base for some new emergency. Can you forgive me? Give me a rain check?" she asked, not really waiting for a reply, as she turned back to her room.

Zeke tried to hide his hurt. "Ah… sure," he mumbled.

He followed her back to her tiny bedroom as she started to put an earring in. Zeke took one step in, and then jumped back. He looked at the wall and the doorframe, and then slowly poked his head back in. The tiny 10 x 12 room with 7 foot ceiling now appeared to be 40 foot wide and 50 foot long. The ceiling was so high he could not make out where the walls ended and the ceiling started. Her bed, chest of drawer, and mismatched dresser were gone, replaced by new modern furniture in a light tan wood. A series of clothes dressers lined one entire wall. Most of the doors were open and he could see they were stuffed with clothes. Another side of the room was one long closet. It was filled with pants, skirts, and blouses and row after row of shoes. He took a step into the room and noticed the floor was now covered in a thick, luxurious beige carpet. He stared around in amazement, and walked to the largest flat panel TV display he had ever seen. It sat in front of a three piece sectional.

Zeke slowly sunk down onto the couch and took in the scene on the TV. It obviously was taken from outer space, but this was not the earth's stratosphere, this was Taurian space. He could see the scene, as if captured from a ship, was of a small, blue and green planet that he immediately recognized as Cano. Ibes its blue moon floated overhead. The moon's surface was pockmarked from the impact of meteors over millions of years.

The view from the ship shifted from Ibes to Cano. The surface seemed equally divided between dark seas and land. The polar caps were frozen solid, but the areas near the coasts were green. The rays of Taur reflected off the water, illuminating the seas and thousands of large and small lakes. The ship swooped down and skimmed along the surface over a long, narrow lake, and then veered off back into outer space.

Next the ship seemed to turn hard and approach a larger sandy-brown planet he knew was his home planet of Antar. As the ship approached he could see a large inland sea surrounded by a green belt nestled up below a range of towering mountains. A large reddish-orange moon and a smaller golden moon floated high above its surface. The ship roared past a floating city where he knew his father, Maximilian (he thought of him as Max I, to distinguish between him and his duplicate captured in this alternate timeline) sat on his throne with Mother Liz, and the rest of the true Royal Four. Zeke pulled his eyes away from the TV and looked over at Hera. She sat at her large, well-lit dressing table combing her hair.

"I didn't know Roswell even had a symphony," he said, trying to break through the eerie, surreal feel of the room.

"It's not in Roswell, silly," she laughed and the light, sparkling tones stirred his heart, "It's in Albuquerque." She slipped on a pair of dark, open-toed stiletto heeled shoes and stood.

Zeke moved up behind her and admired her appearance in the triple set of mirrors. He placed his hands lovingly on her bare arms. "You look beautiful," he beamed. "But, you'll never make it to Albuquerque before it starts. It's after six and it's a four hour drive," he cautioned.

"I know, daddy said we were taking the jet," she laughed.

There was the sound of a car pulling up and then a double beep from its horn. "Oh, he's here. Be a dear and close up," she asked, gave Zeke a quick peck on the cheek, grabbed the dark purple silk shawl off the back of the dressing table chair, and ran from the room. Moments later he heard the door slam. He moved to the window and watched a long, black limousine pull away.

Zeke stood stunned with the sudden and impersonal departure. He walked back towards her room. Standing outside, it appeared to be her old bedroom: small, cramped, and yet somehow comfortable and inviting. But, as soon as he passed over the threshold into her room, the transition jumped back into focus. He considered, and rejected the thought that it was a hologram, he had sat on the couch, and that was not an illusion.

He was about to leave, but took one last looked around the room. Along the east wall sat a row of long Swedish-designed dressers. They were piled high with clothes Hera had tried on and rejected. On the sleek wood surface sat a series of framed photographs. In the center in a large gold frame was a photo of Hera and Khivar standing in front of her new car.

To the right, was a picture of Hera and her mom at the Chaves County Fair. He picked it up and looked at it fondly. Hera must have been about six, one of her front teeth had fallen out and her permanent replacement was just nudging through her gum. To the left was a photo of Hera and Rachael standing in front of Mountain Elementary, both looked very young with just a hint of the beauties they would become. Beside it was another smaller photo of Hera and Rachael, this time it was of them cheerleading at Ridgeview.

He looked around but did not see any pictures of him and Hera, and hung his head in disappointment. He flicked off the bedroom lights as he left, not seeing the photo of him and Hera at the Putt Putt sitting on the small table beside her bed.

He turned off the rest of the lights, locked the door, and crossed the porch to the steps, and then trudged dejectedly across the gravel driveway to his car. He looked up, depressed and felt very alone. He stared up at the glowing silver-white moon surrounded by a faint blue ring of ice crystals, and the bright sky illuminated by millions of sparkling stars.

"What am I doing here?" he asked the heavens. "I had everything. I was a Prince. I had a father and Mother Liz who loved me."

But now, he knew even his cousins had deserted him, finding others more interesting.

And I left my Princess Ultra, an angel who said she loved only me. But Ultra, my first love, only wanted us to be together. She showed her love by risking everything to follow me across the galaxies, a billion billion miles away. I abandoned her to rush back to Earth and Hera. And now my sweet Hera has been seduced away by the allure of money and privilege.

Zeke drove home to his house. Blanca and Brody were at a movie and he moped around the house, bored and lonesome. The doors open, and Alex and Alan entered. Zeke ran up and could see the Twins waving to Sara as she pulled out in her Saturn and blew them a kiss. Alex said hello, asked if they were hungry because he was going to fix a sandwich. They all agreed to a sandwich as Alan invited Zeke into the large game room and challenged him to a game of Halo II. But, Zeke could not maintain his focus and kept getting killed.

"How about a piece of 'Men in Blackberry pie' or a 'Takeoff Tacos' " Alex asked as he reentered the room. "There's something wrong with the food computer."

"Sure, I could go for some Chili-Orbit Rings, too," Alan shot back. "Is Hera working tonight?"

"No, she had tonight off."

"Then, what are you doing here?" Alex asked. "Why aren't the two of you together?"

Zeke tried to hide his annoyance. "I went over to her place earlier; we were supposed to rent a movie, but she said Khivar had invited her and her mom to a concert."

"Okay, but what about later?" Alan asked.

"They were going to Albuquerque for the show, so they won't be back until late," Zeke informed them. "Between work, studying for school, and spending time with her dad, we've hardly seen each other."

"Do I sense trouble in paradise?" Alan asked, as he tried to lighten the mood.

"Maybe," he admitted. "She's different. Ever since Khivar showed up, I'm no longer the center of her universe. And now with her car, it's only going to get worse. She said she'd do anything for us to be together, sacrifice anything for our love… but, now she's into clothes, jewelry, and her car. And 'daddy said this,' or 'daddy did that,' " he pantomimed in disgust.

Alex walked to his cousin and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "She's been poor her entire life. She viewed herself as a fatherless girl only slightly better than cave trash. It has to be a little overwhelming to be rich all of a sudden, to have a father doting on her, and to see herself one step away from the throne."

"Yeah, I know," Zeke acknowledged. "But still, I see something wonderful slipping away. And…" he turned away.

"And?" Alex questioned.

"When I came home tonight… I fell asleep in front of the TV… and… I had a dream." The two boys looked inquiring, wanting more. "Ultra… I saw Princess Ultra."

"She made it?!" Alan exclaimed

"She's back on Cano? And Meta?" Alex asked, showing just a little too much interest.

"No, Ultra was… is… still on Earth. I saw her sitting beside a fire staring up at our moon. She was alone, or at least Meta was not in the dream," he added and looked sick. "Well, not alone exactly, she held a young boy, her son, in her lap. She looked angelic rocking him to sleep. I can feel Hera slipping away, and now Ultra… my angel… she has found… another, too."

Hera and Khivar sat side-by-side on the thick leather couch on one side of the executive jet. Antarvé served them eiffel, and then moved discretely back to the cockpit and pulled the privacy curtain closed.

"Did you enjoy the concert, my dear?" Khivar asked.

"Yes, it was great. But what I would really love to see is a ballet. Did you see the posters in the lobby? The Tunguska Ballet is coming. Can we go?" she asked excitedly.

"Of course, I'll have Antarvé secure tickets," he promised as he extended his arm around her shoulders and gave her a soft fatherly hug. He could see the goose bumps on her bare shoulders and arms, and took off his tuxedo jacket and draped it around her shoulders as he adjusted the thermostat. She snuggled in close, and closed her eyes in contentment.

Hera opened her eyes and sat up. She saw Khivar looking out and down through the small window to the surface below and joined him. Moonlight reflected off the mountain peaks and small streams as the jet streamed along. He extended his arm and she again snuggled in beside him. It was warmer now so she handed the jacket back to him. He ran his hand down her silky hair and across her shoulders. He noticed, as Antarvé had noted, that her skin was unnaturally smooth, the best husk fit he had ever observed. He looked closely, but could not detect the small overlap on the left shoulder where the front and back portions of the husk are usually joined.

He ran his finger along her shoulder, but could detect no imperfections in her almost too-perfect husk. The implication sparked a sick feeling in his stomach. He was angry with Antarvé for planting this doubt. The king was sure there was a perfectly reasonable explanation, but he had read the manual just that morning as he soaked in a moistening solution and it had not mentioned any exceptions to the telltale mark.

He tried, but a nagging suspicion coursed through his mind. He quickly spoke up to try to divert his mind.

"I never had the opportunity to meet Max and the other Four. I know you recall both timelines, did you get to know them well?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied, wondering where this conversation was going, her stomach suddenly turning to knots, fearing the affection, the attention, and now the car had all been a way to seduce her into disclosing something about Max and the others. "I was very fond of them. Zeke was very close to his father and Tess, and to Liz – he called her Mother Liz," she answered, her voice low and her eyes straining to see the response on her father's face. "Why?"

"I did not know Max, but I knew Zan. Let me tell you how I picture Max from my experience with the King. I bet Max was a cautious and reluctant leader, never comfortable directing others, never at ease making the big, life-or-death decisions." Khivar turned to Hera; he saw her puzzled look and her slow almost reluctant nod. "He was concerned about the welfare of everyone around him: friends, family, even casual acquaintances. He wanted to please all, shying away from conflict, striving to make everyone happy…"

"Yes, Max was a wonderful, thoughtful, caring man," she said.

"The qualities that made him a great man, made him a poor leader," Khivar explained.

"What do you mean?" Hera asked in surprise.

"Has your mother talked about Antar and what happened there," he asked.

"Very little, she said my father was a member of the King's Guard and he died in a battle trying to save Princess Vilandra. But, Mother says since we are on Earth now the best way to fit in is to forget the old country and adopt the new traditions of our adopted land. She kept your identity a secret; I confronted her about it and learned the truth only after you started visiting me in my dreams."

"Your mother is both beautiful and wise. Her advice was sound when she thought I did not love her, when she thought I had rejected her and you. But, that is not the case; I love you both and want you by my side. You do not need to stay bound to this planet. You can return to Antar with me… along with your mother, of course. You could be Princess Heraetta, and your mother the Queen."

Hera looked unsure, allured to the thought of being a Princess, finally good enough for Zeke and his family. But, she recalled her mother's warning that she had been genetically altered after birth for the trip across the galaxies, and could never leave Earth. Return would mean death – unless, she hoped, new technology had been developed to overcome this restriction.

"But, you must have heard that I, King Khivar was evil and ruthless, a tyrant that bullied the Taurians for sixty years," he stated. A quick look at Hera and her surprised, wide eyes told him he was correct. "Let me tell you what really happened… and why."

Khivar turned to Hera and took her hand: suddenly his memories filled their minds. Hera looked back. Her hand was still in her father's but they were on a veranda of a palatial estate. She looked at her father with wide eyes and could see their outlines radiating a ghost-like golden shimmer.

At a noise to her right, she turned suddenly and saw a maid pass through her body as the young woman dressed in a tan jilbab and matching scarf moved to a short marble railing. Hera moved quickly to the girl's side and followed her gaze. She could see the reflections of a large red moon and a small yellow moon on the surface of a long inland sea. Hera's head shot up and she knew it was Hades and A'marillo that floated in the sky. Her eyes dropped to the water and could see waves of the Heligan Sea crashing up against the rocks surrounding the bluff upon which the estate was built.

"What… how…" she sputtered.

Khivar smiled as he recalled this time on Antar, before he took the reins of Taurian power. He watched as a tall man dressed in black leather boots, leather pants, and a long cape over a brilliantly white blouse strode forward followed by an entourage of advisors, guards, and aides.

Khivar pointed and Hera could recognize the new man leading the pack was her father. She studied the man and somehow she knew it was sixty years ago. His stern face was unchanged, only back then his great green eyes showed a look of deep concern. Khivar and Hera followed the entourage as it passed down a long marble hallway and out a side door to a beautiful courtyard. The man continued on towards a large low-slung spaceship. Two leather-clad officers stood beside the saucer, one short and one tall. Both looked serious and beamed on board immediately after the man.

In an instant, Khivar and Hera were also on the ship as it rose and sped off. Hera moved to the view port and could see the ship heading for a cloudbank high in the sky. She watched and soon realized it was not a cloud, but a floating city. "Atlata," she gasped. She turned back to her father and smiled with excitement as the ship swung to the left and began to land. Outside the window she could see through the thin clouds a golden palace to the north, a great basilica to the south, and a large circular building that dominated the center of the floating island. Five flags were placed equidistance around the building that somehow she knew was the League of Planets. She studied the five flags that stood out straight in the strong breeze. The emblems on the flags, the whirlwind, the coiled snake, an eagle with outstretched talons, the monster-like Delpac, and Oso, the golden bear were foreign, and at the same time immediately recognizable as the symbols for Antar, Artur, Cano, Zyst, and Onkur.

Suddenly they were beamed into an elegant viewing box high above the floor of the assembly. Hera and her father, outlined in shimmering golden glow were also seated in the box. She stared down and saw strange humanoid-like creatures yelling and screaming at each other. Lord Ares stood in front of a long desk and a high backed chair on a small raised dais. The shouts radiated off the tall golden wall to his rear. Hera stared at the sculpture behind Lord Ares. It incorporated the symbols of all the planets and it slowly rotated so no one planet was always on top.

Lord Ares was trying to restore order but the hall was in pandemonium. Khivar stood beside Hera and pointed across to a much larger box. Seated regally in the box was a beautiful young woman. The golden crown in her long blonde curly hair and piercing blue eyes were visible even from the distance. "Queen Avan'ya," Hera whispered.

A thin young man wearing a similar crown turned away from a tall woman standing behind them. Hera knew the woman must be Princess Vilandra. Her beauty was dazzling. As she approached the railing and stared down into the assembly, the Senators took notice of the statuesque princess and turned and bowed.

A hand maiden stood beside Vilandra. Hera stared in shock and then sucked in a breath. It was her mother.

Khivar pointed, and silently mouthed: Paglia.

Her mother was standing beside the Princess. The young Dakura was unchanged too: still beautiful, but looking severe with her long dark hair pulled back and hidden behind a dark scarf; her dark brown eyes and eyebrows were outlined in a dark liner and shown with an intensity Hera could not recall. Vilandra moved to her chair, but Paglia lingered, her eyes not on Khivar, but across the way to Larek and Queen Mariela's box.

Larek seemed to feel the stare and turned in her direction. A smile flashed across his face. Suddenly Mariela, dressed in a long, nearly transparent silver gown turned to Khivar's box. Hera could see her beautiful, youthful face was decorated in an elaborate design, with silver, black and dark purple lines radiating out from her eyes. They continue down her chiseled chin, divide into two glowing lines that parallel her long slender neck and curve down and around each of her barely concealed breast. Mariela nodded towards Lord Khivar and then turn to Larek. The king of Cano immediately swung his eyes away from Paglia and tried to affect a look of indifference.

Nicholas followed the exchange and started to comment when the young King stood at the railing now and the Senators quieted further, but many still muttered and argued under their breath.

Hera was in for a second shock. She stared in disbelief as the young King turned in her direction to acknowledge Lord Khivar. It was Zeke! No, not Zeke, but Zan: he had the same piercing blue eyes, the same straight regal nose, and the same curly blonde hair as her love.

Hera and Khivar listened as Nicholas sat forward and stared across to the King's box. "Zan is going to get us all killed," he whispered in anger. "He cannot control the Arturian, the Zystians, or the Onkurians."

Antarvé also leaned forward, joining Nicholas as they stared out over the uneasy Senators and the Chancellor speaking solemnly, begging for their attention. Nicholas pointed to another elegant box, a fifth of the way around the circular room. The handsome man, the source of Dakura's attention, sat with his young bride in the front row. "Only King Larek and the Canoians stand by his side," he added.

"The Topolian threat is real," Lord Khivar complained as Nicholas and Antarvé leaned back in their seats. "Without a unified defense, we will never be able to repel their attack. Old King D'tharthé was alerted by his spies in the outer worlds before he died. Why does the new King, why does Zan not recognize the threat? Why does he have no plan to blunt the coming attack?"

"You must intercede," Nicholas advised. "Dakura is in place, she said your advances to Princess Vilandra have been well received."

"Vilandra will be no help. She fancies herself as a rebel, but she's just in it for the thrill of having a romantic fling with an Antarvéian, the 'enemy.' She has no real influence over her brother," Khivar added.

"Then a coup d'état is our only choice," Nicholas concluded.

"It is your responsibility," Antarvé advised. "Zan will lead us to ruins. Only with strong leadership on the throne, only with one ready to force cooperation and build our defenses can we prevent disaster."

Slowly the image began to fade and Hera found herself sitting in the jet, her hand still in her father's.

"But, I was wrong. Zan did have a plan," he said as her turned to Hera. "I learned only later that I was manipulated by Zan and his half-brother General Rathmé. The Four had to die to be reborn again on Earth. They could not take their own lives, so I was drawn into their plot. I was the perfect dupe. He needed someone on the throne to force the various factions into order. Then when he returned with this magical weapon from the prophesied 'Blue Planet,' he could stand with a united Taurian armada against the Topolian attack. Once successful, he could push me, the unpopular dictator, the slayers of Zan, Avan'ya, Rathmé, and Vilandra aside, and retake the throne."

"Zan manipulated you?" she asked suspiciously.

"Yes. They forced me to kill them, so they could have their essence sent to Earth, to be reborn in the form you call Max and the others."

Hera pulled her hand back, in fear. "And, now you've come to Earth to kill Max and the others so he cannot retake the crown," she whispered in horror, her eyes filling with terror.

"No!" Khivar cried. "That is not why I have returned! The Topolian forces are gathering. Their technology far exceeds anything we know. We will be helpless under their onslaught. We need Max to return now. He must bring the 'Shaft of Orion' and slay the barbarians before it is too late."

Khivar moved to Hera and stared down into her eyes, trying to make her believe, so caught up in his lies and his deceptions that he started to believed them himself. "Let him take the throne, I've held it too long. I have grown weary over the years, the constant strain of never ending responsibilities. I want only to be rejoined with you and your mother, back on Antar, back at our estate by the Sea."

"I need your help. I need to find the Four and convince them to return immediately. If their ship is not ready, we can travel back together on my craft. Time is of the essence."

He turned back and reached out his hand, pleading with his eyes. She slowly, tentatively extended her own and allowed him to take it. "Will you help me? Will you help me find Max and the others so we can save our beloved Antar?"

She stared up into his large powerful face, the great green eyes now looking unsure and vulnerable. "Yes… I will… I want to protect Antar too, but all evidence indicates the Four blasted off Earth in the granolith years ago."

"No, the granolith could not depart Earth until…," he stopped, guarding the fact that the granolith could not return to Antar until the timeline was reset. "I know they are still here, on Earth. We must find them… and soon."

© 2007 Roswell the Next Chapter. Unauthorized reproduction prohibited. Any similarities to events, real or imaginary, are strictly coincidental. Roswell The Next Chapter is in no way affiliated with UPN, the WB, Regency Television, 20th Century Fox, or Jason Katims Productions.

The author wishes to give credit to RTFC for some ideas, characters, and words used in this episode.

Chapter 10: Connected

by

NickMax

Edited by Candy Cane, faillow, and sdcheesehead

Original Air Date: February 11, 2007

Dakura crept slowly down Russell Parkway irritated at the throngs of tourists and military vehicles clogging the normally barren street. She had spent all night at Holloman Air Force Base, trying to help the officers make sense of the disappearance of the green circle, and its equally perplexing re-appearance at the blast off site. She was tired from the long night, and frowned at the low gray clouds that hung somberly in the early-morning sky. The heat in her car was on high, yet she shivered as she studied the gray clouds, the thrashing wind and the imminent arrival of heavy rains. Finally, the cars in front of her began to move and she could turn off on a side street and make her way home.

She pulled up and saw Hera's gold Mercedes was still parked in the gravel driveway in front of her modest bungalow. As she trudged up the path and onto the porch she checked her watch. It was past 0930 and knew her daughter should have already left for her morning shift.

As Dakura entered the house she could hear music pounding from Hera's room. She moved to the door, knocked once, and stepped in. Dakura reacted with anger when she saw the transformed room. Hera, in jeans and a tight midriff-revealing pink top was standing in front of a new set of triple mirrors admiring her reflection. She waved her hand and the jeans switched to a short dark mini-skirt with knee-high, Delpac-leather boots.

When Dakura coughed, Hera spun around and saw the disappointed look in her mother's eyes.

"I told you to never use your power," Dakura exploded. "This is foolish, someone could see. Do you want them to find out?!"

"Why not?!" Hera demanded. "Why do we have to hide what we are? Why don't we just declare that we're aliens? The people would love us. They loved Princess Ultra in that other timeline. Earthlings worldwide embraced her and all things alien."

Dakura shook her head. "Why do you think I work at the base? Because it allows me special access to the thinking and planning of the government. They don't love aliens! They are fearful and terrified of them… they see us only as a new threat… one to be swiftly and ruthlessly dealt with."

Hera ignored her mother's concerns, and pleaded her own case. "You should quit that silly job. I'm not going back to the Crashdown. Father said it's not proper for the future Princess to be working as a lowly servant. We should be living at father's estate, or out in one of the new mansions in the suburbs… with servants waiting on us."

"It's our right," Hera continued. "We have royal blood. The earthlings and the other lowlifes should bow down to us," she declared as she turned back to the mirrors.

"I have no royal blood. Should I too bow down before the magnificent Princess Heraetta?"

Hera was shocked, noting the stern, disillusioned expression on her mother's face. "No mother," she pleaded, as she moved to her mother. "I never meant that. But, you're going to have to get used to it. We'll be leaving soon, returning to Antar, and in the palace…"

"What makes you say something so foolish," Dakura interrupted. "I've told you a hundred times, you were changed, genetically altered. You cannot return."

Dakura could see the resistance in her headstrong child. She recalled the moment of her child's birth. She cradled the child to her breasts and knew she had to protect her innocent daughter at all costs. Since that day, so long ago, she had thought long and hard on how to maintain the most necessary of secrets.

Making up her mind, she turned and pulled off her jacket, and then lifted up her black, knit blouse exposing her lower back. Dakura slid a finger along a nearly invisible crease to pull back a square flap exposing a cavity with a single cylindrical knob.

"This is where my husk is bonded to my true form. It is well protected because a strong blow could destroy the shield that protects me from Earth's poisonous atmosphere. You have no chamber. You have no husk. You are different, unique."

Hera pulled up her pink top and ran her hand along her lower back to explore her own skin.

"I could discard my husk and retake my true form if I returned. But you, fair daughter, would die: so no more nonsense about returning to a fairyland in the stars."

"But, father loves me," Hera cried. "He'll have his scientists devise a plan. Surely if his experts devised the transformation procedure, they can reverse it."

Dakura was desperate. She knew Hera could not, must not, return to Antar. There would be too much heartache if her precious ever learned the truth before it was time. Dakura felt like Paglia, the simple Antarvéian cave dweller sitting in the caves nursing her child, befriended by only Priestess Amíle. She knew one day she would have to explain. The story had to be convincing, and the best lies were based on the truth. So she devised her tale: lies laced with fact.

"The transformation program was repudiated long ago. You were in the last one slated for conversion. Khivar suddenly changed his mind, and deemed the process unfitting to the glory of his Antarvéian ancestry… he had the scientist killed as blasphemers."

"Your tiny body was placed in a bath of genetically engineered bio nutrients, and human and Taurian DNA, and shuttled to a special ship before your chamber could be smashed. I was placed in suspended animation. We both traveled through space for over 40 years until the conversion was complete. I was awakened and fitted for my husk before we landed on Earth."

"But, mother…" Hera questioned, overwhelmed with this new information and its implications.

"It worked!" Dakura plunged forward. "You were only a young girl when we were set down on the surface. You grew and matured normally… but without the need for a husk. Your system thrives under Earth's killer rays and poisonous gases. Early on you showed no signs of powers and I thought they might never develop… destroyed in the conversion process," she explained.

"So," Hera sighed, as she dropped heavily to her bed – her mind flooded with what could and could never be, "even if a procedure to reverse the process could be developed, it might take another 40 years."

"Yes. Khivar is very proud of his cave dweller-to-riches history. I don't think he would understand, or accept, a daughter anything less than 100 percent Antarvéian."

Hera sprawled back on the bed, her world dissolving.

"And Zeke: he loves you, but do you expect him to wait by a tub of chemicals for your body to convert back?" Dakura asked. "No. Stay here. Enjoy this life with your young man and forget about going home and being a princess."

"But, father says we must find Max and the rest of the Royal Four. Max and the others must return to Antar. A Topolian fleet is amassing and only Max can save our planet. We were all to return… together… to save Antar."

Dakura suspicions of Khivar's true intent were re-ignited. "I knew the real Khivar. He was a ruthless man, willing to do anything, say anything, to get what he wanted. He is, just like I feared, after the Royal Four, and willing to use your love to get them."

"No! Father would never do that. He loves me," she declared. "He was just a dupe. Used by Zan to further the King's plan to return to Earth to find the Shaft of Orion. Father would have been pushed aside or killed when Zan, you know Max, returned."

Dakura had struggled, hoping against hope this would not happen. But, she knew what she had to do. "Let me show you the real Khivar, the so-called innocent dupe he claimed was sucked into Zan's plot." She extended her hand, and Hera reluctantly moved forward and took it.

Kyle in black polished boots, flowing bright red pants, and a brilliant white Cossack shirt and embroidered collar looked out over the packed house at the Vladivostok Theatre. He turned and smiled at Serena as a patron approached.

Serena, Isabel, Ava, and Maria were dressed in traditional Tunguska maiden outfits of black shoes, knee-length white dresses, flowing aprons, and colorful hats with red and blue ribbons. They were passing out programs. The lights were flashed on and off twice to indicate that show time was approaching as a young couple stopped before Isabel. She smiled and handed them a program, and the couple hurried up the stairs to their balcony seats.

Alex in a similar Cossack outfit showed an eye-catching young woman with coal-black eyes in a short red dress and a distinguished older gentleman with large, fat jowls, and thinning brown hair down the aisle to a set of prime seats on the main floor.

The orchestra began a light playful song. The curtains were pulled back to reveal a broad stage set as if it was in the woods. The stage lights were low, and then a red spotlight revealed a set of fairies. Beams of blue and yellow from the spotlights shot down to highlight the antics of the night creatures that frolicked across the stage. Four lovers and a peddler stood in animated conversation.

Suddenly Lysander and Hermia danced across the stage. The audience rose and applauded enthusiastically.

Max stood behind the curtains watching the dancers perform. The height of the jumps by the prima ballerina was impressive. The spins and timing of the two graceful stars were truly dazzling, but he had eyes only for one of the fairies: a lovely petite brunette in a short white costume, his wife.

She had snagged the small role when one of the young junior dancers had pulled a tendon in practice. The choreographer had pulled Liz from backstage, only as a place holder, but she quickly learned the steps, the dancer's moves and to pirouette: to everyone's surprise she did a passable job. The director told her each day a new dancer would arrive to take her stand-in place, but no one ever came. Even up until the night of the first real performance in Nor'isk she expected to be pulled. But that night she performed like a veteran and was gradually accepted by the professional dancers.

Michael came up to Max to help him lower the curtain after the first act and looked on. "You don't really want to go home, do you?" he asked with irritation. "You and Liz are happy playing in your fantasy world, while the rest of us complain about the delays."

"You know I think returning to Roswell is a mistake, a trap," Max his back to Michael confided, his eyes catching Liz's excited smile as she danced off the stage. "But, I'm not the one delaying the Visas. I'm not doing anything to prevent us from getting on that jet and heading for America."

"But, your little wifey's not twitching her nose to make them appear either," Michael complained.

"Sure, she could fake Visas, but how far do you think we'd get: maybe aboard the Aeroflot charter, but never past the security at LAX."

"Ava and Alex could do their little mind games. We'd waltz through," Michael contended.

The audience applauded loudly and Max shook his head as the two began to lower the curtain. "And how long do you think they could keep it up? And what about the RFID chips? We'd set off every alarm bell in Southern California. Ava and Alex's powers are growing stronger, but their range is still limited. We just have to wait and be patient."

Hera stood in a darkened passageway. A long black tunnel extended off to her left and a flight of stone steps to her right. She turned and could see her and her mother's image shimmering with a silver glow and knew she was back on Antar, sixty years ago, sharing Dakura's memories.

To her left she heard the soft steps of two people walking quickly in their direction. She could now see them, two women; one was holding a torch aloft and walking beside a taller woman. Both wore gray capes.

Dakura raised her silver-outlined hand and pointed. "Princess Vilandra and… me, Paglia as I was known then," she explained.

As they drew closer Hera studied them. The young woman looked nearly identical to her mother; she could clearly make out her fragile, beautiful face, her bright brown eyes, and long dark hair. The Princess's image was illuminated in the glowing torchlight. She did not exactly look like Isabel; but the princess was similar except for the red hair. She was equally statuesque and if possible, her beauty was even more stunning. As they approached, Hera could make out the expression on their faces and it was hard to tell who was more excited, the Princess or Paglia.

Hera could now make out their conversation. "You do not know Khivar, but he is the most charming man I have ever met," Vilandra smiled broadly as she explained. "His very badness is nearly irresistible," she giggled excitedly. "The forbiddance of the liaison, the thought of slipping out of the palace in the dead of night to meet up with him…"

"But Vi… Princess…," she looked embarrassed with the familiarity she had used, "is the lord not Antarvéian, the enemy?"

"We are not at war, Paglia. He is not the enemy," she yelled back. "Our two races have been at peace for over forty years."

"But, an uneasy peace," Paglia remarked.

"Yes," Vilandra noted seriously. "But, Khivar wants only peace. He met with father before his death and they discussed how they could diffuse the tensions and share power, but now Zan refuses to even listen to his plan."

Vilandra's serious frown was replaced with a mischievous smile. "Why is the forbidden fruit always the sweetest?" the Princess giggled. A sudden thought struck her, "Zan betrothed me to Rathmé and we must keep these liaisons secret. You must never mention our meetings."

"Yes… I mean, No. Of course, my lady," Paglia agreed nervously.

"But, that will change when we are joined. We will be able to openly celebrate our love when our union unites our planet's two warring factions, and delivers the lasting peace father so wanted before his death."

"Union, my lady?" Paglia asked with shock.

"Yes, Lord Khivar and I will wed and unite our two peoples."

The two reached the end of the long tunnel and began to walk up the stairs. Hera and her mother climbed too and listened in. Paglia pushed the hood of her cape up and over her hair as she opened an iron gate. They began to walk down the fog shrouded paving-stone path towards the dark forest that surrounded the palace. They stared up into the starry sky.

"I don't like the witching hour," Paglia whispered as she continued to stare up into the dark sky. She shivered in the cool, misty night.

"Oh, I love this time. Our world is almost constantly bathed in light. But now, after Troisième has set but before Hades and A'marillo break over the horizon, the world is dark. Only now can you see the stars and our sister planets in their full glory. Look there," she pointed into the sky directly overhead. "It's Cano."

Hera noticed the strained look on Paglia's face. She swung to question her mother, but could see that same strain, that same look of longing as both women stared up into the dark sky. Curiously, both women dropped their right hand to cradle their stomachs as if in deep thought.

"I must say I was very impressed with you," Vilandra giggled, her face creased with a broad smile, her mood buoyant as her appointment approached.

"My, lady?" Paglia asked, her gaze suddenly jerked back to her mistress.

"I saw you speaking to Larek in the courtyard last week. You two looked quite serious. But, I could see his deep green eyes sparkled when he looked at you."

"Larek?" her eyes widened before she turned away. "The King's cousin?"

"He is not just our cousin, he is King Larek." Vilandra stopped and pointed to Cano. "Even now, he sits upon the throne of our closest ally. He could be looking down on us, as we look up at him."

"What were you talking about?" Vilandra asked inquisitively.

But, Paglia deflected the question. "Should I go ahead and see if Lord Khivar has arrived?"

Vilandra caught the sudden change in subject, her maid's reluctance to speak of what appeared to be much more than polite interaction between a royal and a lowly servant. But, she did not press. "Yes, run ahead and tell him I am coming."

Paglia pulled the cloak to her body, and sprinted forward and moved up a slight rise and then down and out of sight. Dakura urged Hera forward and the two began to run after her.

Hades suddenly broke out from the shadow of the palace and began to rise fast in the evening sky; it rays bathed the path in a soft red glow. In the distance the 20-foot high gate, composed of a weave of unbreakable silver rods rose up demarking the edge of the palace grounds and the one access point to the common area free for all to travel. As Paglia approached she could see the sparks of the red Sense Field that radiated upwards off the ground and around the gate fence providing a protective, invisible dome over the palace and its inhabitants.

Paglia ran to the magnificent gate. Khivar, dressed in his finest, waited impatiently. Hera and Dakura caught up and they could see his green eyes glowing and the smile that spread across his face as he could see his consort approach. She moved close to the gate and he extended his hands through the bars to pull her to him. They kissed for a long passionate moment, and then he released her.

"I have missed you, Paglia. The separation is killing me, but we need to hold out just a little longer. Soon, we will be able to abandon this masquerade and be together again."

He kissed her tenderly, and then gently pushed her back. The sweet loving manner that he had effected was replaced by a calculated glare of cunning. "Is she coming?"

"Yes, I extended your invitation," Paglia informed him. "She is under the impression that you two are going to wed and bind the Antarians and the Antarvéians," she extended a hand to his arm possessively, and tried to laugh as she stared nervously at Khivar.

"Yes, I had to say that. You know Vilandra. She is a fool and gullible, but simply telling the princess that I loved her was not enough. She, like every other woman I've ever known demands a commitment… she was never really satisfied, never ready to make the final move, until I asked her to marry me."

He saw the look of unease in her eyes and pulled Paglia close and kissed her. "You know I love only you," he whispered. "But, gaining Vi's confidence is critical to our plan to 'negotiate' a lasting peace. Rest assured, I have no plans to actually marry her," he smiled.

At this point, Vilandra reached the top of the path and headed down to them. She saw Khivar and ran forward her arms extended.

"Paglia, open the gate."

"But, my lady, only the king has the power to command the gate open."

"Only the king, or… one who possesses the key," she laughed as she withdrew a long brass key from under her cloak and inserted it in the lock. She twisted and heard a loud satisfying click. Together the two women pulled, and Khivar pushed until he could slip through the opening momentarily disrupting the sense field above the gate.

He took Vilandra in his arms and kissed her. "M'les," Khivar whispered in her ear. "Les m'leaté."

The Princess's face burned with embarrassed excitement. "Not here; not in front of my maid," she giggled. Vilandra took his hand and led him off the path and deep into the surrounding woods.

The image of the night, the palace grounds, and the glow of Hades overhead faded and Hera was back in her bedroom with her mother. "Father may have been manipulative, yes, but he declared his love for only you," Hera stated. "His goal was noble, to negotiate a lasting peace," she argued, still determine to defend her father.

Dakura closed her eyes, the look on her face stained. Hera could see she was struggling internally on how to proceed. She saw her mother open her eyes as a tear escaped and rolled down her face. Again Dakura extended her hand.

Hera could see the grief and sadness seeping out of her from behind her mother's determined stare. She was suddenly apprehensive, as she extended her own trembling hand forward, and took her mothers.

The Twins entered the house from their morning run in the country. Their red and green running shorts were damp and the Twin's bare, muscled legs and chests glistened with sweat. Blanca in shorts, sandals, and a light, white top handed each boy a glass of juice on their way to their rooms and a shower.

Cede stepped in, his shorts and 'Visit Roswell' t-shirt were covered in sweat too. "Those boys are trying to kill me," he laughed. "They know I have to keep up so I can provide protection if needed, so they run faster and faster. They're testing me to see if I can keep up."

"Well, it's keeping you in great shape," she smiled as she considered the tall, slim, and handsome Protector. She stepped close, within inches of his face, smiled again, and then seemed to move on. As she walked past, Blanca turned and playfully slapped him on his butt. "You better hit the showers too," she advised as she started to giggle and moved to the food computer, then turned back to him and smiled. Cede took a half step in her direction, paused as he was captured in her flirting grin, and then started forward. Suddenly Brody strode in.

"Morning, Cede," he announced. Brody moved to Blanca, gave her a quick, preoccupied kiss on the cheek, sat down at the breakfast table, and opened the Roswell Gazette.

Cede stared longing at Blanca for a moment, then covered his emotions with a mask of indifference. He turned and headed for his apartment across the back yard as the Twins reentered the kitchen.

The boys took their places at the table. Blanca set platters of eggs, bacon and sausage, fried potatoes, sausage gravy and biscuits, fried apples, and pancakes with a tub of butter and a pitcher of syrup onto the table. She poured each a cup of eiffel and then sat down and sipped her drink. The boys smiled, and without a word dug in.

Brody folded the paper and set it on the floor. He looked unhappy at the table mounded with food. "You know I can't eat that," he spoke with irritation. "Just the smell of all the fat is going to give me a heart attack. My constitution is not like yours. I've asked you a hundred times, oatmeal and tea – is that too much to ask for?" He shook his head in disgust and continued. "And, you know I can't stand eiffel," he said as he rose. "It's lucky for me they opened a Starbucks across from the UFO Center. I'll get something there. And I'll be late, don't wait up for me. I'm expecting another big crowd, and I've got a ton of paperwork to get through," Brody announced, as he picked up his paper and began to smile as he strode out.

Blanca took another sip of her eiffel, stuck out her tongue in indignation and muttered at Brody's retreating form. She shook her head of silver hair and closed her eyes in irritation. Then she opened them, and tried to shake off the concern that was growing with the ever increasing distance between her and her earthling. She drew in a breath, planted a smile on her face, and turned to the Twins.

"I'm going to run to the library and then I'm going to meet Amy for a little shopping… but, I'll be back before dinner," she announced. "What do you two have planned for today?" she asked, returning to her normal happy disposition.

"Sara is going to pick us up around 1000," Alan replied as he devoured another slice of bacon.

"Rachael is coming too. We're going to drive up to Portales, have lunch at the mall, and then catch a movie."

"What are you going to see?" she asked.

"Does it matter?" Alan asked.

"He just wants to be alone with Sara in a dark secluded place," Alex laughed with a smirk.

"Look who's talking," Alan laughed. "The movie was your idea."

Alex's face flushed red and he turned away and dug into a tall stack of pancakes.

Hera's head swung to the right and she saw her mother, again outlined in silver radiance, and she knew they were back on Antar. They crept silently down the marble hallway of the Antarvéian Embassy located a few blocks from the palace. Mother and daughter passed ghost-like through a large impressive door and into Khivar's chamber. He lay propped on a pillow, his naked body covered in a dark sheet and his hands crossed behind his head. He stared up at the ceiling, smiling, and relaxed.

Paglia was sitting on the side of the bed buttoning up her blouse. She turned, leaned across him and gave him a tender kiss. "You were wonderful," she laughed, "my lord," she giggled.

She twisted back to the side of the bed and slipped the long sandy-colored jilbab over her head and wrapped her long hair in her head scarf. She too was in a gay mood, the moment they had planned for, the moment of fruition so close at hand.

"Are you excited about tonight?" she asked. "How did you convince the council of elders to go to the palace? Do you really think Zan will agree to share power?"

Khivar sat up on his elbows and turned to her. "Oh yes, I believe our negotiations will be successful," he grinned. "The long wars of wills finally will be resolved, and the… peace… we all so desire finally achieved."

Paglia, now near the door and ready to leave, turned and started to smile. But, something in the look on Khivar's face, a cruel smirk that did not fit with his words of peace shook her. She opened the door and started down the hall. She had only taken a few steps when she heard someone coming. She ducked into an alcove, hidden, as she waited for them pass. As she waited she immediately recognized the voices of Nicholas and Antarvé.

"Tonight is the night," Nicholas declared, excitedly.

"Tonight the royals will feel the full furry of our blades," Antarvé added.

"Rathmé is mine," Nicholas concluded. "He boasts he is such a great swordsman, but I've seen him spar in the courtyard. His strikes and block moves are weak, his rhythm stilted and mechanical, and his footwork is amateurish."

"You do not believe he will surrender?"

"No. And even if he does, I shall savor the thrill when my sword runs him through," Nicholas laughed and then knocked and entered Khivar's quarters.

Paglia crept from her hiding place, the blood drained from her face, as she realized that the meeting with the elders was only a ruse. The peace talks only a method to gain access to launch a preempted attack. She knew she must prevent Vilandra from opening the gate.

The younger Dakura opened a side door and ran down the stairs to the servant quarters. Dakura and Hera sprinted after her, down an unending dirt floor past crude rooms cut from the rock foundation for the laundry, staff quarters, and kitchens. All the embassy staff was huddled there. They too could tell something was wrong. They massed and cried out making movement impossible for minutes. Paglia broke through only to be stopped again with another throng. Finally she reached the end of the embassy basement and approached a long circular stone staircase. Panting, she stopped to take a breath, and then climbed up and exited out into the night.

Zeke awoke late. He was tired, sleepy and yet wide awake. He walked to the kitchen and realized he was starved. He smiled as he noticed the table was stacked high with mounds of food. The Prince fixed a large plate of eggs and bacon and fried apples, but after one bite realized he could not eat.

He walked out through the passage connecting the house to the airlock and then to the pool surrounded by the air-supported bubble. The morning sun was up and the translucent walls of the bubble glowed white. He turned on the radio, but got a news station.

Zeke was tired on the incessant speculation on the meaning of the grass circle, the mysterious four dark squares, why they had appeared, and what they meant. People all across the world were creating copies, cutting circles in their yards and painting on black squares. He flipped the channel to a popular music station as he walked to the cabana house and slipped on his red swimming trunks.

Sleeping awake and awake when I'm sleeping
I've got a dry kinda thirst when drenched
On sunny days all I can see is the shadow
And I'm not above being under
And I'm at the brink though I know that I'm empty
And I always hide when it's my turn to seek
My only belief is not to have faith in believing
Before I begin I'm over

Zeke walked to the pool and jumped in and did four quick laps unsure why he was in the pool. He stepped out and walked to the hot tub.

Disconnected
Broken off again
And I'm only not lonely when I'm lonely by myself
Disconnected
Numb in the pain again I always back track forward
Cuz all in all I'm disconnected

Flashes of Hera in her pale purple two-piece swim suit brought a smile to his troubled mind. But as his foot sank into the steaming water, he recalled Ultra when she magically appeared beside him in the same hot tub. He lowered his body, feeling the hot bubbling currents relaxing his tense muscles as he sank to the bottom.

Quietly loud while I'm noisily silent
Keep holding my breath when I'm trying to breathe
Swimming against all of my waves and the rapids
I only win when I'm losing.

Agent Burns exited the subway and strode off toward the large granite building in the distance. As he walked along with the office workers in the cold gray morning, the snow falling from the ashen skies above turned to a drizzle. Soon the snow-covered sidewalks were transformed into slush.

He was cold and his feet soaked as he entered the building, passed through security, and climbed the stairs to the large second floor conference room in the DHS headquarters. Burns was surprised to see George Gonzales, the Secretary of DHS at the front of the table discussing something with Army and Air Force officers. He immediately knew the meeting was not just another update, but something big. Burns was now not surprised to see other top DHS officers and black-suited FBI agents seated around the long table.

He got a cup of coffee and then took his chair, next to an Air Force officer. They shook hands and Burns noted the gold eagles on the officer's shoulder and Col. Ferguson on his name plate. Both stopped short when a stunning Army officer entered and sat down next to them. She opened a brief case and withdrew a stick drive.

"Carlos," the woman said to the man standing next to the PC, "pull up Version 1." The assistant, a pilot by the wings on his Air Force uniform, nodded, inserted the portable hard disk into the USB port and opened the software program.

Burns identified the gold oak leaves pins on her shoulders and knew she was a Major. The woman turned, removed her glasses and smiled at him while the lieutenant typed in the security password and loaded up the presentation. Burns studied the early 30s woman as he sipped his coffee. She had a gentle smile and sleek silver-blonde hair that was pulled back in a soft bun. Her dark green Army suit, with a string of red battle ribbons, seemed perfectly tailored to her petite frame. "Good morning, I'm Agent Robert Burns with the DHS," He said as he turned to the Major.

"Good morning," she offered her hand to him ignoring the Air Force officer. "I'm Major Lexus Topol, but my friends call me Lexie," she stated and handed him a card. "I'm with the Army."

Robert felt the warm softness of her fingers in his hand, and noticed her clear pale skin, hazel eyes, and most welcomingly, the dimples in her cheeks as she smiled. His career had been his entire life. He felt he'd never have time for a wife or a family, and generally avoided the opposite sex. But something about this woman was different. With her hand in his, with her smiling at him, he felt a sense of calm and peace that he had never experienced before.

Before he could say more General Franks, head of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, wearing his full dress 'blues,' opened the meeting.

The General stood and walked to the front of the table. "Gentlemen… and ladies," he stated with somber eyes. "I briefed the President this morning, and I have been authorized to share some disturbing news with you. As I'm sure all of you know that the aliens have again made contact. We believe we must prepare for their invasion," he declared. The General looked around as the agents and servicemen buzzed in amazement.

"General," Gonzales began, "Is this related to the green circle, and the four squares?" he asked. "I know, we share your concern, but, in all due respect sir, I believe it is premature to connect their appearance to an invasion," he concluded. The Secretary looked around with a smirk and could see small nods of agreement.

"Mr. Secretary," the General began, trying to restrain the impulse to slap the smirk off the bureaucrat's face, "While some of the civilian agencies have elected to simply wait and watch the Air Force and the Army have moved forward."

At this point he nodded to the Major by the PC. "Major Topol, can you lower the lights and give me the first slide?" the General asked. The young woman clicked a device in her hand and the curtains closed. With another click the lights dimmed and the screen behind the General burst into life. It showed an aerial image of the southwestern United States. She advanced a series of satellite photos that zoomed in to show more and more detail. The first was a shot of the state of New Mexico, then the southern section of the state and the valley along the Pecos River, and finally the blast-off site near Brantley Lake, north of Carlsbad and east of the Sacramento Mountains. "These photos show the site several weeks ago," he explained. "This was after the Starship departure but before the appearance of the circle."

Major Topol advanced to the next set of slides showing the green circle as it engulfed the black blastoff area. Then she showed the four black squares appearing as if by magic.

"Very interesting General," Gonzales announced. "I'm from New Mexico myself, and I think 'The Circle,' as some have started to call it, will be great for tourism," he chuckled. "But, I fail to see the danger. Amazing things are happening, true. But, we have no evidence that there is anything sinister, or any indication that the 'Four Squares' portend an impending invasion," he chuckled. "Our best bet is that it was an elaborately staged hoax."

Franks nodded to the Major and indicted she should come forward. "I'd like to introduce Major Topol from the Army Chemical Materials Agency. She is also an MD and has her PhD in organic chemistry. Her specialty is toxicology; she will describe the next few slides."

Topol advanced the next slide and it showed a chemical with a complex structure. "The black color in the top three squares is composed of phenylenediamine, caustic soda, and ammonia," she explained in a stern voice. Next she used a light pen to point to the chemical formula on the screen. "A common hair dye concoction," she announced.

The General looked around and saw many in the audience nod; they had interpreted, like he had, that this was proof that the squares were in fact a hoax.

Topol did not look amused as the next slide was displayed. She used the light pen to point to the different chemical groups.

CH3 O CH(CH3)2

\|| /

P - S - CH2CH2 - N

/ \

CH3CH2O CH(CH3)2

The assembled agents dropped their amused looks and chuckles. The doctor's face was somber, and somehow the black lines extending from the chemical backbone to the symbols labeled P, S, O, and N seemed sinister.

"This is a chemical representation of the black compound in the final square. It is not a simple, innocuous dye. It is a variant of O-ethyl O-2-diisopropylaminoethyl methylphosphonite. It is a binary, half of a formerly undiscovered line of chemical warfare agents… it is a relative of VX. The agent instantly… and permanently disrupts the body's ability to transmit signals to the brain," she explained and let the implications sink in.

"Contact with the other half of the binary, would, under the right conditions, lead to the release of a deadly vapor cloud causing instant death to everyone in the vicinity. Depending on the air currents, the VX could wipe out a large section of the neighboring populace," the doctor explained. She stared at Gonzales and continued, "Worst case scenario: the black VX deposit is thick, the activating agent is supplied in a large overdose, and the winds are strong. This could allow the agent to be carried downstream to states like Texas and Oklahoma with the loss of life totaling millions."

"The material alone is innocuous," Topol continued. "But if activated, it instantly becomes fatal," she emphasized.

The General stepped to her side. "It is not the greeting card of a friendly Visitor," he stated and looked at each representative at the table. "They deposited the binary by invisible means. It occurred in front of millions glued to their TVs. Their technology far exceeds anything we have at our disposal," he announced. "We must assume they can send in the activating agent just as easily."

Gonzales stood and pointed to the screen. "We must immediately isolate the area and remove the square," he screamed.

"What makes you think removal itself wouldn't initiate the release of the second agent?" the General asked.

"It could be buried below the top surface, below the phosphonite half of the VX," Dr. Topol added. "Digging it up might be just what they want," she cautioned.

"But, we can't just sit here and do nothing!" the Secretary argued as he turned to his assistants.

"We could build an air-tight enclosure," one advised.

Gonzales nodded. "Then we could excavate and contain any release," he offered.

Dr. Topol flicked to the next slide and everyone was drawn to the image on the screen. It showed a new green circle with four black squares. She flipped rapidly to other photos and the officers sat down defeated. They could see that all across America, Europe, and Asia people were creating their own replicas – impossible to tell the fakes from what may be legitimate new alien circles. Some of the new circles were only a few feet across while others were massive. The final slide showed a group of workers painting four huge black squares in the center of a freshly mown circle in the middle of a soccer field.

"We must consider ourselves at war," General Franks announced. "We must do anything and everything to identify, isolate, and destroy these creatures before they initiate their attack. Our very survival is at stake."

Gonzales looked sick. He stood, and surrounded by his assistants, marched to the door.

Burns turned to the young Major as she moved to his side. "Lexie…" he started, as he saw the confident, almost upbeat glint in her beautiful eyes. But his attention was distracted as the Secretary moved to his side.

She smiled broadly again and mouthed, "Call me."

The Secretary nodded to the door, and since Burns didn't immediately move, his eyes still on the Major, he pulled Agent Burns outside of the conference room. Gonzales turned to him, "We need to talk, Agent Burns," he stated in a whisper. "Come up to my office; we need to accelerate 'Project Ballet'!"

Hera and Dakura, their images outlined in an ethereal blue, stood on Atlata and watched as the princess's maid ran ahead. They could see the Paglia look up into the starry sky and could see the planets, now huge orbs in the heavens glowing above. They could also hear music and see the lights from the palace that glowed with the festivities and celebration for the alignment of the Five Planets.

The young Dakura checked in with the guards and entered the palace. As soon as she was out of their sight, she began to run down the long marble passageway. Paglia knew she had to alert Vilandra to Khivar's real plan, but was not sure if she could convince her. She needed help.

As she turned the corner, she realized she was in General Rathmé's wing. She slowed and searched left and right. She recognized Rian, one of the General Rathmé's friends, and approached. "I have critical news about Khivar, I must see the General," she half screamed. He recognized the urgency in her plea, and opened the massive door and allowed her to enter.

Hera and Dakura followed the two into the crowded inner sanctum. Rian introduced the young maid, but the two women could tell her presence was not welcome. "She has word of Khivar's plans," Rian stated.

"Peace!" one yelled.

"Zan should negotiate with the Antarvéian Lord!" another of Rathmé's followers shouted out.

"I serve Princess Vilandra; I am her maid – and her friend," Paglia announced. "I know the intentions of Khivar are not honorable. If he is not stopped, she shall be hurt."

"You don't know what you are talking about. Only Khivar can settle this cold war," a tall warrior in the corner bellowed.

Paglia moved forward, close to Rathmé and pleaded. "Khivar and his Zymes Army seek not peace but total domination of Antar and the Five Planets. Resist his commands once and you shall not live to falter again. She turned and looked at all the group and whispered to Rathmé, "Your soldiers who do not die shall suffer a life worse than death."

"Khivar is good. He is an honorable man," a voice yelled out.

"And anyway, we are safe behind the Sense Field," a new voice rang out.

"No man… no army can penetrate its barrier," another man confidently yelled.

She looked up into the General's amber eyes and pleaded. "Vilandra is under his spell. She wants only peace, she believes his lies and deceptions… but, she will inadvertently betray you all for this man's love. You must stop her before it is too late."

Hera and Dakura could see that Rathmé was moved by the maid's words, but they saw only rejection in the eyes of the others all around her. Something in the General's eyes said he believed the servant, yet was unwilling or unable to prevent the coming tragedy. The young Dakura stepped back, fear and despair in her eyes as she staggered out of the room.

Paglia ran out of the palace and headed for the path to the gate. The scene was like out of a war movie. Behind every tree and bush she could see Zymes troops in battle gear waiting for the command to advance on the palace. Hera and her mother maneuvered around the advancing throng as more and more soldiers crept forward. As they approached the Sense Field they could see the gate was open wide and the sword- and spear-toting troops were fighting with a score of overmatched Protectors. Other Zymeian storm troopers sidestepped the ranging battle and marched towards the palace. The bodies of slain troopers and Royal Protectors littered the path. Hera paused, the smell and sight of so much blood was nauseating.

She and her mother approached the gate and then caught sight of the young Dakura. Paglia was running ahead of them and then suddenly came to a halt. She kneeled beside Khivar, who was holding Vilandra to his breast. He lowered the Princess to the grass and Paglia could see her blood-smeared dress. Khivar was covered in her blood.

Hera moved close and she and her mother stared down at Khivar. For an instant it appeared that his face bore a cruel superior sneer. But, they were not sure because, as he caught sight of Paglia kneeling down beside him, he appeared to look shocked and saddened as his eyes filled with glistening tears. He pointed with a shaking hand at the sword wound in Vilandra's side.

"She opened the gate, as planned. The elders were together and ready to enter to discuss the peace pact, the sharing of power, when Royal Protectors attacked. Our spiritual advisor Malan and his brother were instantly killed. The Protectors fell on us and we were forced to defend ourselves. An alarm was sounded and reinforcements called."

Khivar stood and surveyed the mêlée. "I have to get to the palace. Only I can stop the bloodshed. Stay with Vi; I'll send back a doctor." Lord Khivar stood and pulled Paglia up. He kissed her, but even Hera and her mother could tell something was off. His eyes showed not horror at the sight of the fighting and bodies littering the path, but instead glowed with exhilaration.

Paglia saw a dark-haired maiden in a silver-green gown staring at Lord Khivar from the bushes. The two women watched Khivar turn and run down the path. As he ran, he withdrew his sword and they could see the red stain of blood gleaning from its steel.

The petite young woman stared briefly at Paglia and then followed Khivar down the path toward the palace. The young Dakura seemed uncertain what to do, whether to stay, or follow, when Vilandra moaned. Paglia instantly knelt and pulled the princess to her. Dakura took Hera's hand. They stood beside the image of the young servant hugging the princess to her chest crying.

"I never found out for sure what happened next," Dakura explained to Hera. "Vilandra was slowly dying in my arms. When no doctor appeared, I left her in search of medical attention… but I knew her wounds were fatal. That night the King and his Queen, and his half-brother Rathmé joined Vilandra. Who or how was never explained, and no Antarian in the palace would survived to tell the tale. Khivar soon consolidated his control over the planet. He announced that he had fought back an attempt to lure him into a trap; he had only defended himself. Khivar declared he was assuming control of the planets until the proper line of succession could be established. But, of course, he never relinquished control."

"Somehow, ascending to the throne changed him. It was like I didn't know him anymore. He said he had to rule with an iron fist. He had to prepare for the coming battle, and that justified his savagery and his ruthlessness as he systematically routed out and eliminated anyone who opposed his rule."

Hera took her mother's hand and could feel it tremble in hers.

"I joined him in the palace, but it was never the same between us," Dakura explained. "Everyone knew of my connection with Lady Vilandra, and I was no longer trusted. What was worse, he did not trust me… and I did not trust him."

"That's all I can show you," Dakura stated. "Khivar tried to get what he wanted with charm. If that did not work, he used deception. If that failed, he felt justified using force."

The two women surveyed the dead and dying surrounding them on the battlefield. Each knew that it had been, only hours before, a peaceful path in an orderly, peaceful world. Resigned, they prepared to return to the present.

Suddenly Dakura swung her head sharply to the side as she saw a new image approaching. Hera's eyes followed her mother's and swung around as the image of the young cloaked woman approached. It emitted a pale blue radiance that they both knew was another's memory intruding in on Dakura's recollections. The woman, who looked to Hera like Liz Parker, raised her hood and stared back.

Hera was confused until she recalled that the powerful priestess, Zan's true love, was the source of the Antarian DNA used to fashion the Parker's daughter. But she was not exactly like Liz, for this woman, while almost her duplicate, had a distinctive white streak in the center of her long dark hair, and piercing blue eyes.

Dakura reacted first with surprise and then acknowledgement. She dropped to one knee and bowed and stuttered in disbelief, "Priestess Amíle… how?"

Amíle moved close and hugged her old friend. She turned to Hera and took Hera's hand to inspect the child. "So this is our Heraetta… all grown up," she smiled.

Amíle looked to Dakura and nodded her approval. "She is beautiful like her mother, and she has her father's eyes."

Dakura looked uncomfortable with the reference, and immediately changed the subject. "What… what are you doing here?" Dakura asked.

"You did not see Khivar's treachery that night, but I did. Nicholas and his men flooded the palace and overwhelmed the guards. They chased Rathmé across the grounds and captured him as he found the slain Vilandra. The sight of her lifeless, blood stained body seem to drain away all his fight. Nicholas ordered Rathmé held while he rammed his sword through the General's side so he would die a slow, painful death."

"Antarvé captured the Queen," Amíle continued. "He slaughtered Avan'ya in her own bedroom. And Zan…," she tried to not to sob, "Khivar dispatched the young King himself."

Hera suddenly recalled Zan, the young king. With his blonde tassels and bold blue eyes the boy that looked exactly like her Zeke. She shook her head. "No! Not father!" She could not imagine the sweet and affectionate father she had grown to love having anything to do with Zan's death. "Maybe one of his misguided henchmen, but not my father!"

"Your father?" Amíle looked startled and turned from Hera to Dakura with a questioning stare. "She does not know?" Amíle whispered.

But Hera's world was crashing around her, and she did not see the knowing looks that passed between Dakura and the Priestess.

"Show me," Hera screamed. "I will never believe it if I don't see it with my own eyes!"

"I knew it had to happen," Amíle explained. "I knew why and when, and still it was the most painful night of my life. I cannot bear to witness it again, but if you must, go to the king's chamber."

Hera spun to run to the palace, but the Priestess stopped her and drew Hera close. She whispered, so softly that Dakura could not hear, "Before you go, you must promise me to keep my son Ezekiel safe. His destiny is to return to the stars and rejoin Maximillian. I have seen his future…"

"The prophecy?" Hera asked, as her mind flashing to her exchange with Ultra: Zan shall wed the daughters of Larek and rule the Five Planets.

"Yes," Amíle nodded. "The details are not clear, they may still be changing and not yet set. But, I can tell you the safety and happiness of the Taurian worlds rest on his shoulders."

She hugged Hera tight and then released her. "Promise me you'll help him fulfill his destiny." Amíle could feel Hera shudder in her arms. She gently pushed her back, and wiped the tears from Hera's face. "Hurry to the palace, it is about to happen…" she explained as her shimmering blue glow faded and Amíle disappeared.

Hera and Dakura hurried past the troops now rampaging into the palace. Rough leather-clad warriors were terrorizing the women. All the Antarian men in sight lay either dead or dying. The two ran past them, down a red and gray marble hallway and approach two large 10-foot high doors of gold set in what appeared to be a single rough-hewed block of Nei granite. They saw a black disk recessed into the center of the two doors with the whirlwind symbol etched with hundreds of small white diamonds. Hera and Dakura's glowing bodies rushed forward, through the door, and into the room.

Khivar held his blood stained sword out as he and Zan circled each other. Khivar advanced, but the King easily parried the thrust with his own sword, and looked back unafraid.

"The great King of Antar sacrificed by his own sister," Khivar taunted. "But, she is no more. I hated to have to kill her, she was superb in bed," he laughed and extended his blade so the blood stain was clear. "But, all you worthless royals must die."

Khivar dropped his sword, trying to seduce the young King into an incaution advance. Zan lashed out and the tip of his sword sliced Khivar's neck. But the wound was superficial and Khivar whirled in time to block Zan's follow-up blow.

Zan struck out again, but this time Khivar blocked the blow and used his arm to knock Zan back. Khivar struck out again and Zan parried the blow.

Suddenly Hera screamed as she saw the flash of a long dagger in her father's left hand. Khivar struck out with the sword in his right, and delivered the fatal blow with the dagger in his left.

Zan looked down in what appeared to be a look of satisfaction as he felt the blood seep out between his fingers. The King dropped his sword and slowly fell to his knees as the flow of blood increased. He looked up in peace as Khivar struck again stabbing the dagger deep into Zan's heart. Hera screamed and rushed to the body of the King who looked so like her Zeke. She tried to wrap her arms around the dying teen, but her form was insubstantial and contact was impossible. So, she dropped to her knees and cried.

Khivar dropped to one knee, now only inches from the glowing image of Hera, and pulled Zan's head up by the hair. "You think you fooled me," he laughed harshly. "You think you lured me into your trap, but…"

Suddenly there was the roaring sound of a ship blasting off. Khivar tossed Zan's dead body to the floor and ran to the window and watched with disgust. "So, you and your followers have made your escape. Your essence spirited away to Earth, to live again, and return one day to take my throne," he cried as he shook his head in anger, stepped back, and kneeled down beside the fallen king.

"But, you are wrong. You may have escaped with your soul, but I will not stop until I have hunted you down and wiped your ugly face from the face of Earth."

"I will never forget that you treated us like scrum, lower than dirt. We starved on the surface while you were lavished with the fruits of our labor. You disdained to even acknowledge the plight of the lowly Antarvéians, too high and mighty to offer a hand when thousands of our people died with the plague," he screamed.

Khivar recalled as he watched his mother and father die, helpless to stop the progression of that terrible disease. Then he and his friends fell sick too. Over the next year, they plotted the Antarians' overthrow as one by one they succumbed. When the three, Khivar, Nicholas, and Antarvé, survived they recognized it as a sign from Taur. They knew it was their destiny to rise to power and extract revenge for their family and for their race.

Khivar stood and savagely kicked Zan in the side. He smiled as he withdrew his blood-stained boot. "I vow to Taur and the stars above," he announced as he walked to the window and looked up to the planets and moon glowing overhead. "No force shall deter my resolve," he whispered. "No person, no army of Protectors, and no sorceress, no matter how powerful, can prevent your fate Zan: a slow hideous death exacted by my own hands for you and your progeny."

Nicholas and Antarvé rushed in. They took in the sight and smiled broadly. "Sire, the General and the Princess are dead," Nicholas reported.

"And the Queen too," Antarvé smiled as he looked down at his hands, still red with her blood.

"All Antarians will remember this day," Khivar announced. "The day when the true masters of this planet, the Antarvéians, took what should have always been theirs… their place on the throne in the palace in the sky."

"Let them tremble as we approach," Antarvé proclaimed.

"Resist our absolute authority and their race will be reduced to ashes," Nicholas threatened.

"Zeke is in danger!" Hera screamed as her form rematerialized in her bedroom beside her shaking mother.

"I had no idea," Dakura whispered, still in shock with the revealed truth of how all the royals perished.

"We must stop father," Hera declared.

"Let me worry about Khivar," she declared, now angry at the deception that the evil lord had perpetrated. "You concentrate on the here and now."

Hera shot up, her eyes open wide. "I've barely spoken to Zeke in weeks. I've taken him for granted… so caught up in father's world, I've lost track of what is really important. We must flee. We must find Max and the others before father slays them!" she declared.

"No, not yet. Let me see what Khivar knows first. A sudden departure will tell him we're on to him," she reasoned. "And a blind search will not be fruitful. Even if we find out where they are not, that will narrow the search. Get ready and go to the Crashdown. Pretend that nothing has changed."

Zeke heard a ringing buzz and surfaced from the bottom of the hot tub. The phone by the redwood deck was ringing. He waited for Blanca or one of the Twins to pick it up. Soon it stopped.

Immediately it began to ring again. Sensing it might be important he reached over and plucked it from its holder.

"Hello," Zeke answered.

"Zeke, it's me!" Hera exclaimed. "We need to talk. Come to the Crashdown. You can get some breakfast, and then we can spend the day together."

Zeke felt numb and excited, lonely and loved, overjoyed and cautious.

Numb in the pain again I always back track forward
Cuz all in all I'm disconnected
Broken off again
And I'm only not lonely when I'm lonely by myself
Cuz all in all I'm disconnected

"Don't you have to work all day?" he asked.

"I was supposed to, but I told Jeff that it was really important for me to talk with his grandson. He called Xiomara and she is going to sub for me."

Zeke, his hopes rising with the sudden, unexpected call, felt dashed.

Broken off again
And I'm only not lonely when I'm lonely by myself

"What's so important? Is there something wrong? Are you going to break up with me?" he spurted.

Numb in the pain again I always back track forward
Cuz all in all I'm disconnected

"What's so important?!" she repeated. "I've not spent any time with the boy I love! That's what's important?"

Zeke, his feeling and emotions raw, struggled to understand the change in her voice, the happiness and excitement she now exuded. "You don't have to run off to daddy's?"

"No!" she shuddered at the thought. "I'm reserving all my time for the most important person in my world: you," she whispered. "Now, get over here," she commanded. "Please! I love you and I miss you."

Zeke smiled, his spirits buoyed. "You know that is all I ever wanted. To be with you, to love you, and make you happy," he replied.

"Then get over here. I'm only truly happy when were together."

Zeke could not resist asking, "Has something happened?"

"Yes, mother showed me who I am and what is really important. I'll never be a princess; I'll never be a wealthy debutante, or a famous celebrity. But, I am rich, because I know you love me."

Antarvé looked on concerned as he watched Khivar pace back and forth in the center of the cavernous dome erected in their hidden New Mexico command center. Neither the stone façade meant to represent the ramparts of the desert estate, nor the video screen tuned to look like the Antarian sky and the steel blue waters of the Heligan Sea, seemed to ease his Sire's troubled mind.

Khivar stopped and stared out over the rampart's stone balustrade, then turned, glanced angrily at the husk book in his hand, and yelled at his advisor. "I told you to get rid of the tourists and reporters. But, it is worse rather than better. The streets are so thronged with tourist cars it's a perpetual traffic jam."

"Well, I eliminated the green circle as you commanded. Then I transferred it to the blast-off site. The tourists flocked there," he explained.

"But instead of helping it only ignited a greater alien frenzy: every government agency on the face of the Earth, all the TV networks, and of course the crazy tourists have descended on Roswell like a pack of hyenas searching for the Roswell Aliens."

"I…" Antarvé tried to defend his actions.

"And, what about adding the black marks in the grass," he asked with disdain. "Was that supposed to be cute? What were you thinking?"

"But, Sire… I did not add the four squares! I thought… I thought you had intervened… sending a beacon to the Four."

But before Khivar could respond, the image of a nerdy-looking scientist in a white lab coat screen appeared in a black rimed box projected on the room's domed ceiling.

Khivar stared up at the image of the scientist. "I want an explanation," Khivar bellowed. "Surely, the lack of a simple mark alone is meaningless."

Antarvé could see the anguish is his master's eyes. He almost wished he had not pointed out the inconsistency in Hera's husk: an inconsistency that indicated that Hera might not be Antarvéian, and therefore, could not be the king's daughter.

The scientist looked scared, but stammered out an explanation. "Of course, Sire. I'm sure it is nothing. But…" he stated, reluctant to continue.

Khivar stared menacingly at the man. "Continue," he commanded.

"Well, there is a way to make sure. Out records indicate there are variations, and I'm sure the point on her shoulder, where the husk is normally joined, is just that… a meaningless variation in the husk fitting process..."

"But, you said there was a method… to verify her origin…" Khivar pursued.

"All the records show that the husk is always bound to the wearer's true form at a union at the base on the spine. It should be simple. Just inspect the seal compartment. If she has one, then we can be assured that she is Antarvéian, and I'm sure that will be the case, and you will have the proof that she is your daughter. But, if it is not there…"

"Then she is an imposter…." Khivar slowly interjected. With one dismissive wave, the scientist's image was wiped from the video-screen walls. He turned to his advisor.

"And that would make Dakura a liar and a spy," Khivar continued.

"But, how to confirm her identity without alerting Dakura and the girl?" Antarvé mused as he walked boldly to the king's side and stared out over the image of the water crashing against the rocks below.

"I'll just command her to submit to an inspection!" Khivar declared angrily.

"Yes… yes, of course… that would…work too, but, if I may suggest an alternative? Contact Dakura first. Explore her loyalties. Question her about the whereabouts of Max and the rest of the Royal Four. We can learn much without alerting them to our suspicions."

"Yes, if you think that is best," Khivar mumbled.

Antarvé thought: of course, as always, it will fall to me to save his royal ass. I tried it his way, he thought. But I cannot rely on the King any longer. My spies are already in place. I must execute my plan.

The King's advisor turned to his sulking ruler and proposed a plan. "I'll fix dinner, five courses with wine between each… you can get her drunk again. That will loosen her tongue," Antarvé advised.

But Khivar only nodded, as he was again lost in his thoughts as he stared morosely over the railing at the cold blue sea, already subconsciously mourning the loss of his precious daughter.

As Antarvé reached for the phone, it rang, and he picked it up. His eyes sprung open in surprise, and he moved quickly to Khivar's side. Cupping his hand over the receiver, he whispered, "It's Dakura."

The king nodded and Antarvé placed the instrument into his outstretched hand.

"Yes, my dear. I was just thinking of you," Khivar purred, exuding charm. "I have not seen you in days. Come to my place tonight and my chef will make us a home cooked meal."

"I've been missing you too!" she lied. "Dinner sounds like fun. But, let me whip up something. Come to my house, say at 1900 hours?"

"It must… I mean… it could be a family affair. Can Hera join us?" he asked.

"We'll see. But, I think I want you all to myself," she forced a strained giggle.

"Okay," he laughed, "But, let me bring the wine."

© 2007 Roswell the Next Chapter. Unauthorized reproduction prohibited. Any similarities to events, real or imaginary, are strictly coincidental. Roswell The Next Chapter is in no way affiliated with UPN, the WB, Regency Television, 20th Century Fox, or Jason Katims Productions.

The author wishes to give credit to RTFC for some ideas, characters, and words used in this episode, as well as:

EDUCATIO/Mid%20-%

.

.

and

.

Chapter 11: Dreams

by

NickMax

Edited by Candy Cane, faillow, and sdcheesehead

Original Air Date: February 25, 2007

Zeke pulled the Explorer into the mountains and down a deserted dirt road. He moved around to open the door for Hera, but she popped out and moved to him with a flirtatious smile. She ran her hands around his neck, stood on her tiptoes and kissed him sweetly. Before he could speak, she pulled him into the forest. They walked hand-in-hand along the path that weaved between and under the tall Piñon pines. Hera saw a depression in a rocky outcrop that looked like a shelf. She ran ahead and then beckoned him to join her.

"Okay, tell me, what happened," Zeke requested as he moved in beside her. She turned and took his hand in hers. She moved close and stared deep into his glowing blue eyes. "It'd take too long to tell you. Let me show you," she responded as she raised her hands to his temples.

At her touch there was a flash and Zeke saw Dakura and Hera in a glowing silver outline. He understood that Hera was pulling him into her dream – she was showing him her vision of Antar. First he saw Dakura standing beside a stunning statuesque redhead, who he instinctively knew was Princess Vilandra. He saw Dakura, a young Dakura, in the royal box at the League of Planets. He sucked in his breathe in shock as he recognized a very Zeke-like King Zan, a beautiful young blonde, curly-haired Queen Avan'ya that reminded him vaguely of his mother, and the strong, no-nonsense General Pavé.

In a new flash he was transported to the edge of the palace grounds. He saw the gate in the Sense-Field being open by Vilandra and her embracing a young, green-eyed man – Khivar, Hera's father! Then Lord Khivar was speaking tenderly to Vilandra. With a look of regret on his broad face, and a final whisper, there was a flash of steel as Zeke saw him run the Princess through.

Zeke could tell that Hera was skipping an important scene and dug deep into her mind. He glimpsed the Priestess Amíle holding Hera as she whispered in her ear. "Keep my son Ezekiel safe." The Priestess then turned to Zeke and stared into his eyes. "Your destiny is to wed the daughters of Larek and rule the Five Planets."

Zeke stared back into the Priestess's eyes. "Why are you showing me this?"

"It is awaken you, to show us how it's meant to be," she silently mouthed.

Hera was unaware of Zeke's probe into her memory or his question, and she rushed on to show Khivar battling Zan. He watched with horror as Khivar admitted killing Vilandra; then watched in fascination at the sword battle between his look alike, then Khivar's treachery, and ultimately Zan's death.

Zeke was shaken and she could tell he wanted to break the trance, but she shook her head no. There was more he must see. They turned and watched as Nicholas and Antarvé entered and announced the slaughter of the Queen and the General. Zeke and Hera witnessed in terror as Khivar vowed to the heavens to destroy the Royal Four and their progeny – to revenge the death of his parents. Slowly Hera withdrew her hands and the dream-like memory faded.

"Khivar… your father… he is a killer!" Zeke concluded, as he drew Hera to him and hugged her tight. "He's here, on Earth, to eliminate Max and the rest of the Royal Four."

"And his progeny… that means you and the Twins too!"

"But Max, the Max of that timeline is gone. Departed in the Granolith from Pigeon Point years ago," Zeke shook his head in confusion.

"No, Khivar would not be here if the Four had departed. They're still here," she concluded.

"If Max could reverse the time shift, set the clocks back, then the Khivar of this new timeline would return to the dead," Zeke stated, now understanding the force driving Khivar.

"Of course! That's why father must find the Four. His need for revenge is just icing on the cake. Their elimination is a matter of life and death."

"When Ultra blasted off with her ship we lost our only means to reverse the timeline."

"Father must have seen or heard of the ascension, he must know the starship is gone."

Zeke took Hera in his arms and held her. All this information flooding his system was overwhelming. As he held her, warm and tight, his tense muscles began to relax and a new vision formed in his own head. He saw Ultra's angelic face beaming up at him. She was in a long white wedding dress. She lifted the veil and smiled as she extended her hand, beckoning him to her. He shivered as he drunk in her vision and thought: she has returned – she is on Earth – and waiting for me. Amíle's prophetic words revealed the secret that had been trapped in his subconscious mind. It was his destiny to return to Antar with Ultra at his side. "No," he croaked. He would never abandon Hera.

Hera, still in his arms, could feel the shift in his stance and the sharp drawing in of breath, and hear his muted shout. She looked up and could see him trying to hide the look of panic that was creasing his face. "What is it? Did you have a flash?" she asked. "Did you see a way out?"

Zeke was dragged back from his vision of Ultra. He felt Hera in his arms, could sense her looking up at him, and felt a mixture of guilt, fear, and yes, he had to admit, excited anticipation. He searched for something to say. "No… I guess I'm just tired."

He could see Hera was not convinced; she looked suspiciously at Zeke. He rushed ahead: "Khivar's been using you and your mom to weasel out information. We've got to find the Four first. But how?" Zeke asked as he averted his eyes fearing Hera would attempt to make mental contact see into his mind and soul. "There's been no sign of them since they left Roswell all those years ago."

Hera shrugged off her momentary unease and informed Zeke of her plans. "Mother thinks father knows more than he's telling. She's going to try to find out tonight."

"No! It's too dangerous. Khivar is a killer. You've seen what he's capable of. You don't know what he might do to her."

Hera shook her head. "You didn't see the look in mom's face when she found out how he had deceived her. No, if anyone is in danger, it's Khivar," she chuckled.

"Regardless, we should get back there. We could provide help if she needs it."

"I'm a step ahead of you. Mom's worked at the base for years and picked up some tricks along the way. We stopped at Radio Shack and picked up some equipment. Mother arranged mini-cameras with microphones throughout the house. We'll be able to see and hear everything that goes on. Mom plans to get him drunk over dinner, and see if she can get him to spill the beans… give up what he knows so we can move first."

Agent Burns sat in a wicker chair at a pool-side table at the Los Angeles Sheraton. The late February sky was a beautiful blue and there was a soft warm breeze. It should have been a welcome escape from the cold and snow of DC, but he was too irritated to enjoy the mild California weather. Secretary Gonzales had called again that morning demanding action. He wanted the four suspected aliens back in the country, and he wanted them back now.

Burns picked up his cell phone as an attention-grabbing waitress withdrew two long-neck beers from an overflowing tray and sat them before him. She smiled back as she moved on to the next set of tourists.

He waited until she moved on and then smiled into the hazel eyes of the petite woman in short white shorts and red spandex jogging top sitting opposite him at the table. She plugged in an infrared, wireless headset and then nodded. He hit the 'redial' button as he sipped his cold Bud Lite. The 12-digit international call beeped at him. Burns listened impatiently as it rang, and was about to hang up when the receiver at the other end was picked up.

"Da."

"Where are they Boris?" Burns demanded. "Our Visitors were supposed to be here long ago."

The Russian director of the Directorate for Special Projects sat back in his chair at the breakfast table of a sleek new dacha. A hawk-like, heavy-breasted young woman placed a bagel slathered with cream cheese and lox on a plate before him. He ignored Agent Burns' voice blaring from his phone as he watched her glide behind him, give him a kiss on the cheek, and then move out of the kitchen.

"Is this a shakedown, Boris? We met the airplane; there was no one from the dance company. We're not paying another dime."

"Are you sure they are the ones?" Boris asked in slow broken English. "My person's been with dem the entire time they've been in Vladivostok. I can assure you da'er not slipped off to Roswell," he laughed. "The papers here say all da action is in your country."

"Boris…"

"Visas," the director broke in. "There is a problem with da Visas."

"I paid you enough to bribe every official in Moscow," Burns argued.

"No. You do not understand. The Visa papers for da Visitors are all in order. It's da dancer's papers that have been placed on hold. DHS won't let Lysander and Hermia enter. Some snafu at you end."

Boris took a bite of his bagel and sipped his tea. "I'm afraid da whole show's going to have to bea scrapped. They've already missed da rehearsals and if they dona leave dis evening, da'll miss LA performance."

Burns took a long irritated swallow of the rest of his beer, glanced at the woman beside him, and slammed the bottle down on the table before yelling into his phone. "Just get them to the plane!"

"But, what about DHS?"

"I am the DHS!" he shouted. "The Visas will be waiting. Don't screw with me Boris. Things can become pretty uncomfortable for a Russian entrepreneur without official sanctions selling information to the Americans."

"Are you threatening me?" Boris asked angrily.

"No," he replied in a slow intimidating growl: "Just making you a promise." He hit the 'End' button on the phone terminating the call. Burns turned and Lexus placed a comforting hand over his. "What do you think, Lexie? Is he just pulling our chain?"

"I think he'll come through, Robert," she answered. "In the meantime," the Major announced with her most tempting smile, "we've got 24 hours to kill. Let's take a drive down the coast. I found this cute little bed and breakfast where we can spend the night."

Alex sat on Rachel's couch, his arms around her, his lips locked to hers in a passionate kiss. His hands slid up her neck and cupped her head. Their minds were now joined. He felt guilty using her in this manner, but he had caught another glimpse of their future the night before as they kissed. It was only a flash, lasting just a second, but the image was terrible. He saw a large silver ship hovering in front of a tan-brick building, and then a blinding flash as a death ray annihilated West Roswell High killing everyone inside.

He had to know more; their very lives could depend on this vision. He pulled her tight and deepened the kiss. Again the ship appeared releasing its destructive ray. But, this time he saw more, and he began to smile.

Suddenly, he was jerked from his vision as someone knocked at Rachael's door. He shook his head no, needing to return to the vision, but the pounding continued. Rachael reluctantly uncurled herself from his arms and dragged him to the door with her. She looked out the peephole and saw Sara.

Rachael opened the door for her friend to enter and then Sara hauled Alan in with her. Rachael started to close the door, but then stopped in surprise as she saw Zeke and Hera and Blanca and Cede standing there too.

"Can we come in?" Zeke asked. "We need to use your house for a few minutes."

"Sure," Rachael agreed and opened the door wide. "Dad's still at work. Let's go down to the rec room." Alex started to close the door, but paused as he caught a glimpse of what looked like Johnny lurking in the dark by the bushes. He closed the door and joined Rachael as she led the group to the basement door and down the carpeted steps to a semi-furnished recreational room. Alan surveyed the room where he had learned, through his constant psychic connection to his brother, how to dance… and how to kiss. He elbowed Alex with a smirk. Rachael saw the kidding and, as her face burned a bright, embarrassed red, recalled that night.

Zeke nudged Alan, and they withdrew their laptop computers. The two sat them along the top of the ping-pong table and hit their power buttons. The screens showed the familiar 'Windows' logo, and then progressed through their startup routines. The girls crowded around as the boys clicked on the icons of a video camera at the bottom on the screen, and then they entered a series of commands. The laptop screens jumped into life showing different shots of the interior of the Montanan house. Zeke turned to Rachael's new, high-definition TV and with a flick on his wrist it sprang into life. He studied the pictures on the laptops and touched one. Immediately that image was displayed on the new 50-inch TV that had been delivered to Rachael's house and installed earlier that morning.

The picture he had selected showed Dakura working away at the cutting board in the small kitchen. Steam was rising from a large, silver pot. Zeke selected another camera shot and a close-up of the kitchen, a pan of simmering sauce and the pot of boiling spaghetti were displayed. The cameras picked up sound too, and they could hear Dakura humming an unfamiliar tune.

Rachael looked confused, unsure why they had come over, and why she and the others should be interested in spying in on Hera's mom fixing dinner. Her questioning stare was directed to Alex who looked blank and then to Alan.

Alan could see her confusion. He drew Rachael and Alex near and whispered their plan. He smiled and nodded his head – all would become clear soon.

The sight of a long black limousine pulling up outside the house was picked up by one of Dakura's cameras. Antarvé opened the rear door and Khivar exited. He stared up into the sky; a sliver of the Earth's single white moon shown down on him. The king considered it. He found it beautiful in its stark way, but he longed for Hades' comforting red glow and the other moons. He had enjoyed his vacation on Earth, but knew it was time he finished his business and got back to Antar.

Khivar hoped Dakura was not a spy and Hera was, in fact, his daughter. He had rekindled his love for Dakura, or more accurately Paglia as she was called on Antar. His hard heart had softened, and he had found a happiness unequalled when he discovered his daughter. He desperately wanted Paglia and Hera by his side when he returned to his palace.

"Who's that with Khivar?" Alex asked.

"It's Antarvé, dad's chef and advisor. Mr. A's his body guard and butler, too," Hera informed them. She stole a glance at Zeke and knew he was thinking of the Antarvé in her dream – the Colonel rushing into the King's Chamber his hands still red with the blood of the Queen.

Alex stared at the tall balding man, he was sure he had seen him before. He watched as Antarvé opened the limousines' trunk and picked up a wine carrier with bottles of red and white wine and a large carafe of m'alwe. He handed it to the king, who turned and strode purposely towards the front door.

Khivar was deep in thought. He had to find out. He had to know – was the dazzling young woman who had so captured his fatherly heart really the Princess Heraetta, or a fraud.

The group watched as Khivar approached the house. Zeke selected a new camera angle and Alex caught sight of Johnny talking conspiratorially with Antarvé. Before he could comment, Zeke shifted the camera to show an image of Dakura setting salads on the small kitchen table. Next he selected a shot with Khivar at the door. They could hear the sound of the doorbell ringing.

Dakura opened the door. Her expression was captured by another camera, one planted in the jacaranda bush surrounding the porch. There was a moment of revulsion as she hesitantly moved forward, then she plastered on a happy face and an excited smile. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him passionately as the two fumbled through the door. Dakura took his jacket and led him to the table.

The kids sat down on the couch and watched with a mixture of curiosity and embarrassment. Blanca and Cede stayed by the laptops in order to select the best views to display. So far the cameras were picking up all the action with excellent picture and sound quality.

"Pour us some wine, Khirvy," she purred seductively as her eyes twinkled with excitement.

He saw the offered cork puller, but shook his head as he used his powers to expertly remove the stopper. Khivar poured the blood-red wine into two large wine glasses that sat on the table. She moved to the table with the salad dressing and he stood behind her and scooted in her chair. The king smiled as he breathed in her perfume and kissed her neck and then her cheek.

"To us," she toasted Khivar as she raised her wine glass. In one long swallow, she drained the large crystal glass. Khivar smiled and followed. He poured more, and they began to eat. The two ate companionably in silence and then she drained her second glass.

Dakura stood, and wobbled as they both giggled. She moved to the refrigerator and withdrew two small glass desert cups. Making sure to put the one with the small chip on the edge in her right hand, she moved back to the table. She sat the dark blue sorbet in her left hand in front of the king.

"It's a sorbet, like forbetto," she answered the question in his eyes. "It cleanses the palate before the next course." He took a small spoonful of the cool sherbet-like dessert and tasted it and then smiled. They both spooned in more. She emptied the rest of the red wine into their glasses and smiled broadly to Khivar. "Why don't you open the white while I get the soup?"

The kids studied the king. He looked slightly gassed and spilled some of the wine as he withdrew the stopper. But, as Cede zoomed in, they could see it was all an act. They could see his calculating glare in his eyes before he quickly hid it behind his mask of fake inebriation.

"What's your mom doing?" Sara asked.

"She's getting bombed," Alan laughed.

"She'll give everything away," Rachael complained.

They all turned to Zeke and Hera who did not seem concerned.

"There's Razenberry juice in mom's sorbet," Hera explained.

The kids looked on confused.

"It counteracts the alcohol," Zeke clarified. "She's as sober as any of us, but she's letting ol' Khivar think she's getting looped."

"So," Alex nodded as he began to understand. "He'll feel overconfident, and maybe let something slip."

"Quiet," Blanca yelled. They all turned back to the TV.

"… you disappeared." Khivar took a spoonful of soup, nodded appreciatively, and buttered a slice of thick dark bread. "It was quite a shock to learn you were alive. Where did you go?'

"Khivar's pumping her," Alex noted with concern.

"Oh, here and there," Dakura answered with an evasive smile.

"What did you and Hera do?' he asked, trying to make the inquiry seem innocent.

Dakura scrunched her shoulder, finished her glass of white wine, and poured herself another. She waited until Khivar had finished his glass, and then she filled his to the rim.

"You must have seen a lot of changes around here," Khivar continued. "Antarvé has been checking the history books; he says the Southwest and Roswell have changed mightily since 1947."

"Oh, I wouldn't know about that," Dakura answered with a slight hiccup. "We've only been on Earth a few years."

"That's very interesting," he replied. But, before he could ask another question, Dakura took another spoonful of the sorbet, sprang up and grabbed the m'alwe with her left and Khivar's hand with her right. She pulled him to the small couch where two large crystal goblets were sitting. She poured each a full glass of the amber liqueur and then sat down on his lap.

"Wow," Zeke exclaimed. "Your mom's got some moves."

"You've got to watch out for us Montanan women," Hera laughed. "We know what we want, and don't take no for an answer."

They watched as Dakura kissed him and started to unbutton the buttons on his tunic.

"I think she's coming on a little too strong," Alex noted.

"Not every woman wants to wait," Rachael whispered to Alex.

"Khivar looks flustered," Alan noted.

"She knows what she's doing," Hera replied with more conviction than she felt. Hera inwardly cringed at the site of her mother aggressively kissing the monster who murdered Zan.

Khivar sat her on the couch, and put an arm around her shoulder, slowing the action. Dakura snuggled in. "Where's Hera?" he asked. "I thought this was going to be a family affair."

"Oh, out with her beau; you've met him: Prince Ezekiel D'tharthé."

"Yes, I met him. Outstanding young man: formed from the union of Max and Tess."

"You are exceptionally well informed."

"It is my business to be informed," he commented.

"He carries the essence of Zan and Priestess Amíle," she volunteered. "He shall someday succeed King Maximillian and he too shall take your throne on Atlata," she taunted, hoping to get some reaction.

"So, Zeke is the son of the king, and not the son of Max… the hybrid who presides in this timeline?" He turned to her, and slipped in what he hoped was an innocent sounding question. "Does he maintain contact with this Max?"

"That would be impossible," she lured him on. "The Max of this time, the head of this Royal Four, departed Earth years ago. They blasted off using the Granolith."

"That is not possible," Khivar stated a little too forcefully. He calmed himself and proceeded. "The Four are still here, they cannot return until…" he stopped almost letting too much slip out.

Suddenly Zeke jumped up; this had been what he had been waited for. Putting one hand to Khivar's image on the screen, he bored in, making a connection that allowed them to hear Khivar's thoughts.

The Max of this world is destined to merge with the Max of the original timeline, but that can happen only after the timeline has been restored. I must prevent that at all costs: for, if it is restored, I will die.

Khivar looked right and then left as he felt the mental contact. He smiled, sensing they were trying to break in and his trap would work. Now, to set the stage, he thought. Opening his mind so the others could see, see what he wanted them to see, he proceeded.

"I have searched for the Four," he continued rapidly, "to beg for their forgiveness, for that unpleasantness at the palace, but so far my agents on Earth have been unsuccessful."

Dakura was stung with the polite euphemism he had used instead of the more accurate description of treachery and savage revenge she had recently witnessed. But, she did not have time to linger and now was not the time to confront Khivar. "You have no idea where they are? No clues on how to find them?" she asked, trying to hide her mixture of relief and desperation.

"No," he stated. "I want to end this squabble with Max and the rest of the Four… are you sure Zeke is not in communication with the Max of this Earth?"

She shook her head no.

Seeing now was the time, he let slip the secret. He hoped they would bite at his bait, or that by keeping Dakura talking she would slip and provide the clue that could lead his death squad to the Four. "But just this morning, my agents learned that their Royal Protector, Nasedo, is still on Earth."

"Where is he?!" Dakura demanded, and then softened her question. "I mean, do you know where he is?"

"No, only that he is in the United States: on the East Coast they believe," he lied.

Zeke burrowed in past the king's mental defenses. Together they heard clearly his inner thoughts: my men have been scouring southern California for months. We are sure he is there, but, so far, nothing.

"Tomorrow I plan to join the hunt. I must find out what he knows."

Dakura knew that Zeke must get there first, and she must warn the Prince while stalling the king. "Leaving?" she asked in a slurred voice before she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. "You just got here," she purred as she slipped off her heels and ran her hand seductively down his chest.

"We have to get there first!" Zeke exclaimed.

"You're right. We should leave tonight," Hera urged. "We have to contact Nasedo. The shapeshifter might be the only one who knows where they are."

"So where do we start?" Alan asked.

"LA," Zeke replied.

"Right, LA. Let's go," Hera nodded.

"No, it's too dangerous. And at least I've been to LA," Zeke cautioned.

"I'm not sure Disneyland counts," Hera retorted, trying not to recall Zeke, alone and in love with Ultra, in that other timeline apperating from one amusement park to another.

"Look, this could be dangerous. I think it would be better if the Twins and I went alone," Zeke replied.

"No! I'm never going to leave you again. I'm going."

"Neither of you can go," Alan exclaimed. "Khivar would know immediately."

"That's right," Alex agreed.

"We know Nasedo is out there, and may have crucial information on the whereabouts of Max II, and you think we should just sit here?" Zeke asked incredulously as he shook his head.

"You can't be out there and here too, so I think you're stuck," Sara argued as she possessively laced her arm around Alan's.

"Well," Rachael stated as she looked back at Blanca and Cede. "That is normally the case. But, when you have shapeshifters, new possibilities exist."

"Of course," Alex exclaimed. "Cede and Gael could shape shift into the likenesses of Zeke and Hera."

Rachael looked at Alex. "Two men trying to fool everyone that they are infatuated teenagers? They'd never pull it off… unless… there is something you haven't shared with me about your two Royal Protectors."

Everyone's gaze swung to Cede.

"No, Gael and I are just servants of his Majesty… we're straight… what you would call heterosexuals," he assured them. "I agree with Sara. It would be difficult to portray a female, and even harder to play Zeke and respond appropriately to Gael, even if he did look like the Princess."

"Another dead end," Alex complained.

"No," Rachael considered and smiled at Hera. "Not if Cede was impersonating Zeke, and…"

"And Blanca would pretend to be me," Hera continued.

All eyes now slung to the two by the computers. The boys may have been oblivious, but all the girls had noticed the way the two Protectors always stood close to each other, their eyes darting to the other, and then shifting away.

"I don't think such a plan is wise," Cede stuttered.

"Why?" Blanca yelled. "You don't think you could force yourself to hold me, or stare lovingly down into my eyes?" she asked with sudden irritation.

"No," he gulped. "That would be the easiest thing in the world," he smiled shyly, his face reddening. "No, such a plan might put you in danger, and I'd never forgive myself if anything happened to you."

He moved close to her. They looked like they might embrace until they remembered where they were.

"It's our duty," Blanca blurted out. "Regardless of the danger, we must accept our roles to protect the Royals," she said as she took his hand.

"No, that still won't work. We can't expect Zeke and Hera to go alone, unprotected," Alan observed. Alex and I are the Knights of Antar; we must go too, in order to protect the Prince.

"No!" Sara screamed, suddenly panicking at the thought of her young love leaving and maybe never seeing him alive again. "Your absence would alert Khivar and his henchmen that we are on to them."

"I think Hera and I can take care of ourselves for a few days to check out Nasedo," Zeke added. Alan and Alex began to argue, but desisted when they saw Zeke's adamant stare.

"Okay," Blanca interjected. "Cede and I can shift into your form for a few days. The Twins can help us from making too many errors… such as not knowing who people are, our teachers, etc. The two of you can drive to California..."

"No," Alex objected. "They can't drive. We have to have the car to perpetuate the illusion of normalcy."

"And flying is not an option either, the scanners would pick them up instantly," Alan argued, still trying to dissuade the Prince of his reckless decision.

"Khivar is a powerful, wealthy man; by now he's wormed his way into the DHS. He'd be alerted if you left town," Alex agreed.

"We'll apperate," Hera declared.

"You can't just materialize on the sidewalk. People would notice," Blanca cautioned.

"Okay, here's what you should do," Rachael advised. "Disapperate and then re-apperate into one of the deserted remote parking lots at LAX. It'll be dark, no one should see. Take the shuttle into the concourse, buy some clothes, and couple of suitcases. Then rent a car at the airport before you go on to the hotel."

"It would give you a base of operations and avoid suspicion," Cede conceded.

Everyone nodded, agreeing it was a workable plan.

Cede took Blanca's hand and kissed it. Then with two flashes of glowing white light, they shifted their bodies, their clothing, and hair styles to exactly match those of Zeke and Hera.

The two identical Zekes and Heras stared at each other. Rachael and Sara who had heard of shape shifting, but had never seen it actually happen, were amazed. They rushed forward to hug their friend, but were unsure who to approach. Finally, one of the Heras turned to them, and the three girls embraced her in a long hug for several seconds until they broke out in amazed giggles.

"Good job, Blanca," Hera replied as Rachael and Sara jumped back from the arms of the imposter in surprise.

The real Hera faced the two Zekes sure she could tell the difference. She moved forward tentatively and stared each in the eyes. They both looked back with hopeful smiles. Finally, she selected the one on the right and wrapped her arm around his waist and leaned up to kiss him.

"Oh, Zekey," she signed as their lips were about to touch.

Suddenly the arm of the other interceded. "I think that is enough of a demonstration, Cede. I'll take it from here," the real Zeke stated as he intervened.

"I knew it!" Hera exploded in a big smile. "I just wanted to see if you'd let me kiss him," she tried to explain to the unconvinced audience.

Zeke smiled mischievously as he walked to Hera. "Excellent conversion, Cede and Blanca. But, we still look the same: no one is going to give us a room, or rent a car to a couple of 16-year olds. He placed a hand on Hera's shoulders. Her short, tight fitting clothes, eye color, makeup and hair style changed. In seconds she was wearing a red, button-up top with a knee-length tan skirt. Her lipstick was red and her eyes dark brown with lined lids. Her long glossy dark hair was pulled away from her face and allowed to hang down over her shoulders. Tiny lines appeared around the edges of her mouth and eyes and she looked 10 years older. Blanca, Sara, and Rachel pulled her to the rec room's mirror and they all giggled at the transformation.

Hera smiled as she strode back to Zeke. She studied him for a moment and then extended her hand. His t-shirt, jeans, and tennis shoes were converted to a dark green Ralph Lauren polo shirt, khaki pants and penny loafers. A subtle hint of a 5-o'clock shadow appeared along his lean face and a series of small lines crossed his forehead and others appeared at the edges of his eyes. Rachael whispered into her friend's ear. Hera nodded, and then concentrated again. Whiskers sprung from Zeke's upper lip and chin forming a dark goatee. His curly blonde hair also shifted to a dark, straight style, cut short. Next the color of his glowing, unnaturally-blue eyes shifted to a dark soulful amber.

Blanca flicked her wrist and two pairs of dark wrap-around sunglasses appear in her hand. Hera took one and slipped it on while handing the other pair to Zeke.

The two 'strangers' looked back at their friends; all were amazed at the dramatic transformations effected by such minor alternations of their basic appearance.

Hera scribbled a note to her mother, handed it to Blanca, hugged her friends and then moved to Zeke.

"Any suggestion for a hotel?" Zeke asked.

"Any place other than the Sheraton where Tess was killed," Blanca stated.

"Yes, any other place; there are too many painful memories there," Cede conceded.

Rachael and Sara turned to their friends, their eyes wide with talk of someone killing Zeke's mother.

"Little Zeke battled General Nicholas there… in the previous timeline," Blanca explained. "Khivar's General, transformed into the form of a 12-year old misfit, had been sent to Earth to search and destroy the Royal Four. He was very powerful, seemingly too powerful for Max. He threw Zeke's mom, Tess, through the window of their suite on the 37th floor. Zeke battled Nicholas as the General attacked Max and Liz."

"He defeated the little twerp, and brought his father back from the edge of death," Hera pronounced with pride.

"Zeke helped Max… resurrected Liz… brought her back from the dead… after she died," Cede announced, still in awe of the powers of the young Prince.

Zeke shuddered with the pain of the memory of that night at the hotel in California. So overwhelmed with the memories coursing through his mind, he did not realize he had projected the scene as a holographic image, of the penthouse, and that fatal evening, into the rec room. Before the startled eyes of the Twins, the Protectors, and the girls, they watched his memories of the battle.

They could see that Max had been hurt and the young Nicholas was toying with him. Defeat appeared imminent, as Max grew weaker and weaker. They could tell by the way Max looked at Liz he was sure she was dead.

"Life without Liz is not worth living," Max cried.

"That's right," Nicholas declared, reveling in Max's distress. "She's dead, and I killed her. And now, I'm going to kill you."

Little Zeke struggled as he heard his father and Nicholas. "No!" he screamed as he turned to his father. "You can still save her."

"She has been dead too long," Max moaned. "I can't save her. I have nothing to live for."

"You have me! You have Michael and Isabel," Zeke pleaded. He turned to Nicholas with a stare of unbridled hatred.

"Look, I don't want to hurt you," Nicholas cautioned. "Killing Max and collecting you are the reasons Khivar came to Earth, Prince Ezekiel. But, if it's my skin," he laughed, "or yours, you're going down."

"You are the one going down," the little Zeke declared.

The hologram showed the little boy as he extended his hands and concentrated. The kids watched in fascination as Nicholas grabbed his head in pain. His hand began to move to the husk seal. Fighting it, using his second hand to pull back the first, he looked back at the little Zeke in fear. His hand continued; it pulled up the flap, and with a final terrifying scream he ruptured the seal. Nicholas exploded and his lower torso was reduced to a cloud of dust.

"You must heal Mother Liz," Zeke begged his father.

Max began to cry as he scooped the lifeless body of Liz up into his arms. "I can't… it's too late," he moaned as his image began to flicker and fade in and out as he fell unconscious to the floor.

Zeke pulled his father back and positioned Max's hands so that one was on Liz's stomach, over the fatal stab wound, and the other on her back. He stood behind his father and concentrated with all his might. A blue glow emanated from his fingers and passed into Max but it did no good; he feared he could help his father heal her.

But, as if inspired by another, an image of Liz, but strangely, with blue eyes and a streak of gray in her long glossy hair, he mind warped his father – making Max believing he had felt Liz move. Max began to stir and then regained consciousness. He looked back into the eyes of his son and then to the lifeless body of his wife. Her face was as white as a sheet, and her skin was growing cold. Max began to shake his head, knowing there was no chance.

Zeke again mind warped his father. This time he projected the image of Liz groaning. The illusion was small, but the hope that it inspired in Max was overwhelming. Max turned and his entire body glowed as he poured every last ounce of his healing powers into the love of his live. All his attention was directed to restoring her life-critical functions. Her eyes flickered and she looks up into Max's glowing eyes. Little Zeke in the hologram collapsed from the effort of saving his Mother Liz, while the Zeke in the rec room crumbled to the floor.

As Hera watched, her mind drifted back to the original timeline when Zeke saved Princess Ultra's life after the bombing at the Embassy. Zeke saved the woman he loved, she thought. Did I have the right to deliver 'The Kiss,' the 'Posesión,' to claim him as mine? Have I disrupted fate? Was he destined, like Ultra told me, to marry her?

The room was hushed. The shocking battle, and the sudden conclusion, shook everyone. Blanca could see a pall had descended over the room, and tried to lighten the mood.

"How about staying at the Beverly Hills Hilton," she offered. "Max and Liz stayed there under the name of Mr. and Mrs. Swift."

Hera helped Zeke to the couch and cradled him to her chest. He opened his eyes knowing that nightmare was over and he was desperate to proclaim that she, not Ultra, was the love of his life.

He nodded as he recalled his father's trip to LA. It had been when his father had sought out the help of Kal Langley.

"Yes, that sounds good," Zeke announced in a low hoarse voice, desperate to move the discussion away from that terrible night at the Sheraton.

"We'll need new identification documents and…," but stopped in mid-sentence as Cede handed one packet to Zeke and one to Hera. Zeke opened his and withdrew a large bundle of cash, identification cards, credit cards, and a small RFID chip in a small plastic capsule. He briefly checked the cards and saw they were all in the name of Tom Swift. Looking over Hera's shoulder, he saw her cards were in the name of Katie Swift.

"Allow me," Cede announced. He popped out Zeke's chip, inserted it in his own neck socket, and popped in the new chip in Zeke's 25-year old appearing neck. He repeated the process with Hera and Blanca.

The two versions of Zeke and Hera hugged for a moment and the real Zeke pulled the real Hera away. They moved to the center of the room and appeared ready to apperate. Suddenly Hera had a thought. She rushed to Blanca and inspected her smooth skin near her spine. Hera whispered to Blanca who nodded. There was a brief flash located near Blanca's lower back. Hera ran her fingers along the Protector's skin and then pried open a new flap created in the flash. She inspected the rectangular cavity exposing a small cylindrical knob. Rachael and Sara stared open mouthed in silent wonder as they also inspected the cavity.

Hera saw their concern. "Mother and father… all full-blooded Antarvéians… members of our race must wear a protective outer skin. Like the one you saw on Nicholas, the husk was designed to protect them from Earth's toxic gases and harmful rays. I was converted… transformed… soon after birth… I have no husk. Father does not know. If he would discover this difference, the game would be up. If possible, Blanca, let him discover the cavity where the husk appears to be bonded to your spine. But be subtle. Father is very clever… and is… a dangerous man. If he detects any deception, if could endanger mother."

"We must go now," Zeke explained. "Alan and Alex, and you girls, explain how 'we' acted together. Blanca practice until you know the school routine, how to waitress, and…," he turned and looked at Cede with a smile, "how we kiss."

Cede bowed low. "It will be a difficult and onerous duty, Sire," he responded, trying not to laugh. "But, it is my duty, and I will try…"

Suddenly Blanca elbowed him playfully in the ribs and pulled him close in a long passionate kiss. "I think we will need a lot of practice," she giggled with Hera's girlish lilt.

The kids joined in laughing. "A lot of practice," Cede agreed with a nod as he pulled Blanca to him.

Rachael pulled Alex close and Sara wrapped an arm around Alan's waist. They turned back to the older versions of Zeke and Hera, but they were gone.

The Aeroflot charter airplane docked at the gate and the pilot turned off the 'seat-belt' light. Immediately everyone jumped up from the long flight. Max withdrew a small carryon bag from the luggage rack in the third-class section. He handed it to Liz and pulled out his own. Max could see Michael and Maria pressing up against the column of departing passengers.

Ava stood on her tiptoes and tried to catch a glimpse of Katharina and Viktor. In times of stress like tonight she always played with the silver ring with the black onyx inlay that she wore on her first finger – the ring given to Tess by her protector, Nasedo, and subsequently given to Ava. Isabel and Alex moved up behind her as the passengers exited the long aircraft.

The dancers, musicians, stagehands, roadies, and organizers spilled out into the demarcation area. They tried to hide their excitement and anxiousness about clearing customs. All had waited a lifetime to explore America, and they wanted to start immediately. Ava pushed her way to the front and finally spotted Viktor speaking to a tall thin American in a tweed jacket. They completed their discussion and turned back to the group.

"Welcome, welcome," the man in the tweed jacket bellowed. He was thin, but his strong voice carried well to the gathered throng of Russians. "My name is Haedon Maclir D'Layon, but everyone calls me Hanley. I was recently hired as the coordinator of international guests for the National Ballet. We welcome you to America and look forward to seeing your performance."

He pulled a dazzling late 20s woman up beside him. She was surrounded by a half dozen young men and women in dark slacks and burgundy blazers. "This is my sister, Raeve and her assistants. If you cannot reach me or Raeve, they will be happy to help you."

Next he motioned Viktor forward. "I will be working closely with the Tunguska government's representative, Mr. Viktor Xaedonovich, to make this a successful tour." He gave Viktor a long hug, more like a long lost family member than a stranger, but then he broke the embrace and applauded. The others gathered in, with Raeve and Ava leading the clapping.

"Now, if you will follow me, we will gather your bags and go through customs. Some of you have visited our fair country before. You may recall 'customs' was a slow, cumbersome process. But now, because of the RFID chips, and the new electronic scanners, you and your luggage can be reviewed in a matter of minutes. Please stay together. My assistants will direct you to one of the two motor coaches we have secured for your transport from the airport to the hotel, and to and from the ballet house."

"Unfortunately, because of your delayed arrival you will only have one day for practice before the dress rehearsal and then opening night. But, Viktor Xaedonovich assures me you are all professionals, and could open tonight if necessary." He smiled and led the pack down the international concourse to a set of escalators going down to baggage claim.

Zeke and Hera rematerialized in a corner of the darkened 'Green Lot' below a burned out light pole. They moved casually to the pickup spot and boarded a half-empty bus that took them to the airport. At its first stop, the international terminal, they departed hand-in-hand, and slipped in through the double doors and maneuvered through the teeming throngs where peoples of all sizes and shapes happily waited for loved ones. The sounds of a dozen different languages rang out as they took the escalator up to the main concourse. The two teenagers, transformed to look older, spotted a luggage store and selected sleek, matching, black-leather roller bags. Zeke and Hera waited and tried to hide their nervousness as the sales girl ran their platinum Master Card through. But, the girl hardly noticed, handed them their receipt, as she moved to the next customer in line.

Spotting an upscale clothing boutique, they scurried across the wide aisle, just missing a massive tour group. They did not notice the newcomers were all wearing heavy bulky coats better suited for the travel in the artic. Zeke and Hera were too occupied as they selected clothing, shoes, and toiletries to fill their new bags to notice the tramping boots mixed with the feather-light footsteps of the dancers of the Tunguska Ballet.

Zeke pulled the new Dodge Charger rental into the Beverly Hills Hilton. The valet sprang forward and took the keys from Zeke while handing him a claim ticket. He motioned to a bellboy. "This is Charles; he'll take care of you."

A young black man in dark pants and white shirt and tie with a strange pillbox-shaped circular hat stepped forward and lifted the two bags out of the trunk and onto a small trolley. He waited and then followed as Zeke and Hera walked into the elaborate hotel lobby and on to the registration desk.

The hour was getting late, but there was still a long line of guests checking in. The manager looked up from the VIP check-in station, which was deserted, and stared at the peons waiting. The line crept along, and finally he waved the next guest over. Zeke and Hera moved to him and Zeke placed his Master Card on the polished mahogany surface. Hera handed the manager their national identification cards.

The RFID scanner before his desk popped up 'Tom and Katie Swift.' The manager looked bored as he took the cards from the 'nobodies.' The scanner had already entered their names and identification information into the computer. Suddenly an embarrassed smile spread across his face. "Mr. and Mrs. Swift!" he exclaimed. "You didn't need to stand in the commoner line; you should have come to me immediately. We have a separate system for our première guests. I'm very sorry for the delay."

The young man and woman seemed to be waiting patiently, but something about the way they held themselves, the presence of the dark shades even close to midnight, made him uneasy. He knew they were celebrities. He checked his computer; a note on the reservation screen indicated they should be upgraded to the best suite available, and a call should be made to Kal Langley immediately. Kal Langley was one of Hollywood's top producers. The new guests had to be actors – and important. Suddenly it struck him and he looked again at the names, 'Tom and Katie Swift.'

He moved close and lowered his voice. "Mr. Cruise… It is our pleasure to serve you at the Beverly Hills Hilton. Anything you need, just mention my name. I want to tell you, I loved you in the Mission Impossible movies. And Katie, you are even lovelier than on TV. I grew up watching Dawson Creek, and you were just wonderful."

Zeke and Hera stepped back in confusion. "There must be some mistake," Zeke commented. "We're the Swift's… I'm not sure who you have us confused with…"

"Of course you are," he winked. "Excellent job on the fake IDs. You even have the RFID system fooled." Then he turned to the bellboy and jerked his head for him to come quickly. "Charles will show you to your room." He turned to the short, young man with the pillbox hat. "Show the… the Swift's," he smiled, "to the Presidential Suite."

The boy's head swung around and studied Zeke and Hera. He knew nobody was assigned to the top suite unless they were somebody. The manager took in the look and stepped out from behind the desk and turned to Zeke and Hera. "I'll show you personally. It's not every day that we get double-plus status guests." He led them to the elevators as Charles followed.

The two women behind the check-in desk were smiling with excitement. One had overheard the manager and was now whispering the identity of the new guests to the other, "It's Tom Cruise." Hotel guests mingling in the lobby and others in line were now starting to whisper too; their eyes were darting to the elevators, trying to figure out who was with the manager. Suddenly, one of the women in line overhead the check-in girls gossiping, and made the connection; she yelled out, " 'TOMCAT!' It's Tom Cruise… and Katie Holmes!"

There was a pause as the elevator doors opened, and then a mad scramble as the guests rushed forward pulling out pens and anything available to write an autograph on. Others pulled out their picture phones and snapped photos as Zeke and Hera shrank back from the advancing hoard as the polished brass doors closed.

The manager finally left, and Hera slipped into the massive marble bathroom. She had pulled out her toothbrush and paste. She also carried in a dressing gown, a pair of long cotton pajamas as well as another outfit. She couldn't stop smiling, and stood humming as she stared back at her image in the gold rimmed mirror.

They didn't have you where I come from
Never knew the best was yet to come
Life began when I saw your face
And I hear your laugh like a serenade

How long do you want to be loved
Is forever enough, is forever enough
How long do you want to be loved
Is forever enough
Cause I'm never, never giving you up

This was almost like her honeymoon, she thought. She fanaticized that she really was Mrs. Swift. Hera picked up the decorative lace doily that adorned the space between the double sinks. She placed it behind her head and wrapped it around like a wedding veil.

"I, Hera Montanan, take Ezekiel D'tharthé…" she whispered, and then began to giggle again as she turned off the light.

Zeke had said he was going to wait for her in the bed. She was nervous as she exited the bathroom, excited, and unsure what would come next. Hera looked out the huge glass windows that provided a panorama view of one of the richest neighborhoods in the world as she walked slowly towards the bed.

She laughed quietly thinking that someone could confuse Zeke with Tom Cruise and her with Katie Holmes. Zeke, she knew, was much better looking.

How long do you want to be loved
Is forever enough, is forever enough
How long do you want to be loved
Is forever enough
Cause I'm never, never giving you up

Hera, aka Katie Swift bent down by the large king-size bed and looked at Zeke. She was amazed and immediately angry. He was sleeping! She knew the night had been stressful, but still, what 16-year old boy, alone in a hotel room with his girl falls asleep. Maybe the transformation or the thousand-mile apperation had affected him in unexpected ways.

He looked so perfect, so handsome, and so peaceful it was difficult to stay mad. He tossed and kicked back the top sheet as he rolled towards her and then, still asleep, he hugged the pillow. She pealed back the silk sheet a few inches and stared for a moment; not sure if she was relieved or disappointed that he wore his red boxer shorts.

She took off her gown. The pajamas had long ago been rejected, replaced with a short silk teddy. Aware that she was nearly naked, she slipped self-consciously under the sheets and backed in next to Zeke. With a flick of her wrist the lights were turned off. She lifted Zeke's long muscular arm, and wrapped it protectively around her.

I slip in bed when you're asleep
To hold you close and feel your breath on me
Tomorrow there'll be so much to do
So tonight I'll drift in a dream with you

She knew she was too excited for sleep, but longed for Zeke's touch. Even if he was asleep, she felt warm and safe in his arms. Hera began to review the day, then, to her surprise, her eyes began to feel heavy. She snuggled into Zeke, and his hug tightened for a moment. She smiled with contentment as she was pulled away, as Zeke had been only moments before, into another world – into a dream of the future.

As you wander through these troubled worlds
In search of all the ones you love
You can close your eyes and you're miles away
And hear my voice like a serenade

How long do you want to be loved
Is forever enough, is forever enough
How long do you want to be loved
Is forever enough
Cause I'm never, never giving you up.

Hera awoke with a start. She knew she was in LA, in a luxurious bed snuggled in tight with Zeke, not here trapped in this dream. But, she could not convince her mind that was being flooded with new sights and sounds. She could feel the muscles of a gigantic Canoian eagle moving under her as she hung onto its back.

The wind rushed at her as the great bird flared its massive white wings and they slowed as the bird began to descend through the sky towards the floating city of Atlata. Hera noticed she was 16 again and, as she struggled to hold onto the reins, that she was no longer in her tiny silk night dress, but rather in a long white wedding gown. Long slits were cut up the sides, and this allowed her legs to grasp the sides of the massive eagle.

She stared out and could see it was early in the morning and Taur was rising in the East into a beautiful blue, cloudless sky. The eagle moved downwards and they passed over the large circular structure near the center of the floating island city or Atlata. Large flags, one from each of the Five Planets, were visible around the edges of the League of Planets building. The royal green Antarian flag with the whirlwind symbol and the purple Canoian flag with the eagle and its outstretched talons waved lazily in a light morning breeze. Hera looked south and could see the golden palace. Then her gaze moved to the north where she could see the large X-shaped basilica; without instructions from her, the eagle banked and glided down towards it.

She became fearful as the eagle dropped its nose and rushed down. Hera braced for the impact as the great bird failed to slow. She scrunched down and opened her left eye and saw that they had not crashed into the golden building, but somehow had passed unharmed through one of the Basilica's thousand skylight windows, and floated down towards the Priestess Taur who was at the altar.

Hera stared down and could see the tall beautiful Priestess. She was dressed in simple white robes with golden sandals. Her hair was an amazing green, and then she recalled it was not hair but mass of iridescent-green snakes. Hera saw that the Priestess and her aides were busy preparing for a royal ceremony, and had taken one entire wing of the Basilica.

The eagle flew to a stage high above the altar, and then, with a great fluffing of wings, it landed. It dropped to his knees and dipped its head in respect. She hugged the great feathered beast, that somehow she knew would one day be her friend, and slid down its side and onto the stage floor. She moved to the edge of the stage and could now see that the attendees had completely filled the other three wings of the high cathedral of Taur.

She stared in amazement. In the wing to her left, in the front row, sat her mother in a gown of gold. Her long brown hair styled and adorned with jewels. Next to her was the High Priestess Amíle in a gown of teal. Both beamed with pride. Behind them sat her friends from Roswell: Xiomara, Jeremy and Becky, Benny and Chevette, Johnny, and Crabson all dressed in their Sunday best. Even Principal Chavez in a suit and Ms. Kostova in a pretty spring dress had joined the celebration. Hera looked out farther and could see that half of the West Roswell sophomore class was also in attendance.

In the center wing sat King Max and Queen Liz in royal regalia, along with a stunning young woman. Zeke's mother Tess was there too, she looked beautiful and beamed at the man at her side. In the row just behind them sat General Michael Pavé and Lady Maria, King Kolin and Queen Isabel, and Ava with Xaedon. Prince Kyle and Serena completed the second row. Mr. and Mrs. Parker, Mrs. Evans, Brody, Blanca, Cede, Gael, Tion, and Bédos sat and talked quietly in the next row. Next to them Hanley was chatting with Avere while Raeve was whispering to Kal and the head of the palace guard. Verde and Roja flirted with the Protectors. Directly behind them sat King Sero from Onkur and minor royals from some of the other planets. Royal Protectors and other friends of the king filled out the wing.

To her right sat another group, equally proud and excited. It included Queen Mariela in a sleek silver gown. Her face, as usual, was decorated in an elaborate design, with silver, black and dark purple lines radiating out from her eyes. Beside her sat Duke Sargon and Madam Téso in their finest along with Queen Kathana from Zyst. Friends of the Canoian royal family filled the next few rows. Farther behind in each of the three wings sat members of the Senate, friends, bureaucrats, and military officers. The rest of the military forces and Protectors from the different planets were spread out behind their leaders.

A side door opened and Zeke, Alan, and Alex emerged. Each was dressed elegantly in royal green robes with white tunics. Zeke stood slightly forward and the beams from the Taurlight that floated in from the skylights caught the glint of his crown. Hera thought he never looked more handsome. Doors to her left now opened and Rachael and Sara in light purple bridesmaid's dresses stepped forward. Their hair was curled and sat high on their heads. Hera smiled, finally understanding – this was her wedding day. She was going to marry Zeke.

Next, a door to the right opened and she staggered back. Walking across the dark carpeted floor, and up onto the altar strode Meta and Gital also dressed in purple gowns. Hera thought: What were they doing here? Why were Princess Ultra's best friends wearing bridesmaid's outfits at her wedding?

She nearly jumped out of her skin as trumpets suddenly blared from the back of the Basilica. Dakura and Queen Mariela rose simultaneously, each nodding while poorly hiding their looks of exasperation and the unspoken wish that the other would leave. The attendees rose as the brides' mothers rose, and turned back to see the brides as the trumpets sounded again. An orchestra began a slow musical song that Hera recognized as a Taurian version of the wedding march. Hera searched desperately for a way down from her elevated stage. The ceremony was about to begin without her and she was trapped up there.

Now her gaze was jerked to the back of the Basilica. King Larek emerged with Princess Ultra on his arm. No! She could not allow it. She was getting ready to jump, when her perch seem to plot against her. It began to lift up from the floor – 10 feet, now 20 feet, finally slowing as it approached 50 feet. She stared in desperation: a leap now could be fatal.

Another door opened and her heart nearly stopped. Princess Heraetta stepped forward and placed her arm around Larek's! She stared in disbelief. The Hera on his arm smiled broadly to Larek as he kissed her cheek. Hera, still trapped on the stage, caught the glint of the glow of the Princess's tiara in her dark styled hair that sat high on her elegant head. She studied the two long white gowns, their bejeweled bodices and sleeves, their white veils, and the 20-foot trains that trailed behind them.

She closed her eyes and shook her head in mixture of frustration and confusion, but when she opened them she found herself walking down the white carpeted aisle with her arm held lovingly by her father. She jumped in surprise, 'her father'!

She swung her head back and stared into the crowd. Amíle smiled and silently mouthed, "You have your father's eyes."

Suddenly, it all started to fall in place. Things her mother had said, and more importantly what she had not said.

But, before she could say anything, she was caught up in the moment, marching side by side, towards the same altar; she and Princess Ultra strode purposely towards Zeke. Each tried to ignore the other. But she noticed the smile of recognition in Larek's green eyes.

Princess Ultra seemed to sense something was wrong and at her urging Larek quickened his pace. Larek's eyes, now wide, were jerked forward as Ultra passed slightly ahead of Hera.

Hera lagged behind Larek, because her long tight dress, the slits having disappeared, made movement beyond tiny steps impossible. Hera stared with a mixture of irritation and fear as Ultra reached the altar first. Zeke extended his right hand out to Ultra, and stared down at her with such a look of love and adoration Hera thought she might throw up. The taller Meta and Gital moved up to surround the couple and block Rachael and Sara, but the Priestess Taur restrained them as she beckoned Hera forward. Zeke, still holding Ultra's hand, smiled fondly down at Hera and extended his left hand.

What was going on, Hera screamed in her mind. Did Zeke plan to marry us both? It was like him! The bastard was unable to make a choice, so he decided to not decide! Hera turned to the guests, and saw that everyone was staring up at Zeke nodding and smiling. Larek moved to Dakura and kissed her cheek, then moved to sit beside Mariela. Even her mother and Queen Mariela seemed in agreement with the dual marriage. Only King Larek shook his head in a slight sign of opposition.

Zeke lifted her hand and gently kissed it; he stared deeply into her glowing green eyes and smiled. She wavered, her resistance melting, as he she felt weak – locked in his gaze.

Next he swung his gaze to Ultra. Hera caught the look of adoration that shone from Ultra eyes and smiling face as she looked up into Zeke's eyes. But, as he bent to kiss her cheek, the dream was shattered by a terrified scream.

Ultra was jerked awake in the small trailer in the woods. She had been entranced in the most amazing dream of her life when she suddenly felt a cold, wet hand sliding up under her nightshirt groping her breast. The touch was rough and she screamed out in terror and pain. Black Crow, soaked from the storm raging outside her window, began tugging at her top; she slapped his hands away, but he continued.

"BC, go sleep it off!" she shouted, now more irritated than fearful.

"Look, Bonnie, a man's got needs," he growled. "I've been patient, waiting for you to come around. I'm tired of waiting. A wife's got a duty, and whether you're ready or not, I'm exercising my rights," he bellowed as he took the last swallow of the long-neck Bud and threw it to the floor.

She tried to push him away, but with one jerk he ripped her top, pulling it roughly up popping all the buttons. He crouched over her, holding her down with his left hand, while unbuckling his pants with the right. Suddenly the door to the small bedroom banged open and Blue Owl jumped on his father's back.

"Keep your hands off of mommy!" the little boy screamed.

Black Crow twisted back and backhanded the boy across the face: the blow lifted him off the bed and crashed his younger son into the trailer wall. The ex-BIA officer tried to kiss Ultra. She fought back – but he was big and strong, and excited by the liquor. Bonnie began to cry, her irritation turning to fear, knowing she could not stop him.

Suddenly there was the flash of movement in the candle light. Sam grabbed a handful of his father's hair and jerked his head back. At the same time he pulled an eight-inch hunting knife from its sheaf on his father's belt. He immediately slid the long silver blade under his father's throat.

"Get off of Bonnie!" Sam hissed in anger.

"Get out of here," Black Crow yelled. "This is between me and your mom."

Sam's nerve began to falter when his father taunted the boy. "You're no warrior, just a little boy. Now get out of here before I get up and give you a good thrashing!" he bellowed as he reached back trying to grab his older son.

Blue Owl ran into the room and stuck the tip of a small knife in his father side. "Get off mommy."

Sam was enraged by the taunt and shamed by his lack of courage. He pressed the blade tight to his father's throat as he increased the tension on his father's hair. Black Crow, his head now angled painfully back, could feel the edge slice into him and a trickle of blood run down his throat.

"Never again!" Sam screamed as tears flowed down his cheek. "That's why our real mother left us! Now get off of her – now! And get out of here. Don't come back until you've sobered up," he hissed as he jerked his father's head back, the knife still pressing dangerously close to his throat. He dragged Black Crow off of Ultra and forced his father out to the trailer door. Black Crow twisted the handle open, and Sam pushed his father out the door into the blazing storm with his foot. He locked the door and ran back to the bedroom.

Blue Owl had pulled off his spider-man PJ top and offered it to cover Ultra's naked chest. He sat on the bed hugging the shaking woman he had grown to love.

As Sam reentered, she slowly whispered: "your… real… mother." She hugged the two boys to her as all her memories came rushing back: the ship, the blast off as she had searched for Zeke, Meta's jumping from the rising ship. She knew the dream was real, too. She was Princess Ultra of Cano. She had returned to Earth to find her true love, Prince Ezekiel of Antar. It was her destiny to return to the Five Planets with him and rule the Taurian system. She was not the boy's mother; Black Crow had tricked her. She must leave and find Zeke. But, she could not abandon the boys she had grown to love. She must return the boys to their real mother before she could resume her search.

© 2007 Roswell the Next Chapter. Unauthorized reproduction prohibited. Any similarities to events, real or imaginary, are strictly coincidental. Roswell The Next Chapter is in no way affiliated with UPN, the WB, Regency Television, 20th Century Fox, or Jason Katims Productions.

The author wishes to give credit to RTFC for some ideas, characters, and words used in this episode, as well as:

. - modified.

Chapter 12: New Alignments

by

NickMax

Edited by Candy Cane, faillow, and sdcheesehead

Original Air Date: March 11, 2007

Zeke awoke in the early dawn. He ran a hand down his chest to his red boxer shorts as he kicked back the sheets. As he raised his arms up to stretch, one brushed his cheek. He could feel the bristles of a day old beard and recalled where, and who, he was. He turned but the bed was empty and called out, "Hera?" He listened, but there was no answer.

He threw back the silk sheets and moved across the thickly carpeted suite. The bathroom was empty, but the daybed in the couch that faced the small gas fire had been pulled out. He began to breathe again as he saw two pillows and tangled sheets that showed evidence of recent use. He called again, but then noticed the drapes leading to the balcony were pulled back and the sliding-glass door was ajar.

Zeke ran to the balcony door and slid it open. Hera sat rocking on an oak swing by the hot tub, wrapped in a blanket and sipping a drink from a steaming cup. The distinctive burnt orange smell told him it was eiffel, and the look on her face told him he was in trouble.

"What are you doing out here, babe?" he asked with concern. "It's freezing."

Hera stared out at the sun breaking over Beverly Hills, but did not turn his way. "I used to watch the sunrise with my mom every morning. She would tell me about Antar and why we had to come to Earth. I find the sunrise soothing, when I'm upset."

"Look… about last night…" Zeke began knowing he had screwed up big time. "I don't know what happened. I was waiting for you in the bed, excited and everything, but then… it was like a pixy sprinkled sleeping dust in my eyes; I just slid down and was out," he laughed. "I'm sorry. It's still early… we could… you know… go back to bed," he offered with a hopeful smile.

"Did you dream?" she asked, her voice strained.

Zeke started to answer, but caught the tone, the frown, and irritated glare in her eyes, as she looked his way. "Well… I might have."

"You don't know? Either you dreamed or you didn't," she asked with irritation.

"Well… sometimes I dream, but I can't recall any details. I think I dreamed last night, but it was confusing…and now, like I said, it's gone."

"Do you ever dream of your first love?" she asked.

"Ultra?" he replied in surprise, then immediately realized that was the wrong response.

"Yes, Princess Ultra," she bristled. "Do you ever dream of her, you and her, on the throne on Antar?" She could see his indecision. "Just be honest. I won't be mad."

Zeke, still uneducated in the ways of the women, did not hear the trap in her words and unwisely plunged forward. "Well… maybe… once or twice. Her and I… and father and Mother Liz in the palace with Alan and Alex… exploring the surface, the mountains, the Sea and the Talus Vortex and the…" he drifted off, seeing the look in her eyes.

"I thought you couldn't recall your dreams," she asked in a tone that barely concealed her growing anger.

"Well, something… they were just musings… thoughts… you know."

"So, you're saying you've been daydreaming about her."

"I've thought about you and me too," he offered, quickly, seeing the conversation was veering off, out of control. "Us together and…"

"And, in these daydreams that you see Ultra and you see me, are we together?" she asked.

Zeke was feeling attacked and didn't know what to say.

"I mean, do you intend to marry us?" she asked. "Both of us?"

"No, I never really… I mean, that wouldn't work… would it?" he fumbled as a glimmer of hope entered his eyes.

"So, am I supposed to get one wing of the palace and Ultra the other? Are we to pine for you all day, hoping to get a glimpse of the great King Zeke."

"No, I…"

"No? We are to live together? Both of us sharing your bed: every man's fantasy, two on one," she shouted as she rose and strode to him. "Well you can forget it!" she hissed with anger as she moved closer to him and stared into his eyes. "I'm not sharing you! You have to prove to me that I am the one, and the only one in your heart."

Hera dropped her blanket and Zeke's eyes bulged as he saw the tiny silk nightdress that barely covered her long slim curvy frame. In spite of himself, he smiled as she stepped back into the suite. She took three steps, saw the bed, and spun around. "And you can forget about getting me into that bed. I was ready to give you everything last night to locate Nasedo and save the Four," she declared as she began to cry. "But now I'm staying a virgin until our wedding night. We'll just have to find another way of contacting him," she declared.

She moved close and looked up into Zeke's eyes, tears of frustration, anger, and fear slipped down her pretty face. Her trembling hand reached out and clamped over his bare arm. "And you better be a virgin too, buster, or… or…" she broke off, and ran towards the bathroom. Hera slowed, took one last look, and then slammed the door closed.

Zeke stared at the door, the image of her beautiful, tear-stained face tugging at his heart. Then he noticed the red welt glowing on his arm where Hera had grabbed him. As he touched it, he was jolted as the forgotten dream of the night before sprung up before his eyes. He saw himself at the wedding, standing beside Alan and Alex, watching the dual wedding procession move slowly down the aisle towards him. He was stunned, seeing himself at the wedding altar, and confused that both Hera and Ultra each held one of Larek's arms, but before he could consider the meaning of the image, he was jolted again. He saw himself extending his hand down to Ultra with a look of love, and her glowing angelic purple eyes staring up at him with love and adoration. Zeke could see Hera in her long white wedding dress and the shocked expression on her face: now he understood why she was so upset.

Zeke marched to the bathroom door and banged with his fits. "Hera, it was just a dream. I love you," he proclaimed. But, he paused; he was unable to utter what he knew she wanted to hear, that he loved her, and only her.

Blanca, in the shifted disguise of Hera, sat in AP Chemistry madly taking notes. She looked over at Rachael with an overwhelmed expression.

The teacher noticed, and rather than cutting Blanca some slack asked her to come to the blackboard to balance the equation of a simple oxidation-reduction reaction. Blanca looked panicked, but was saved by the ringing bell.

Rachael tried to comfort her, but Blanca grabbed up her books and took off in a panic. She was clearly upset and unable to cope with the onslaught of homework assignments, pop quizzes, and the unending series of stares: lecherous ones from the boys and envious ones from the girls.

Johnny approached Rachael as the room began to clear. "You're looking foxy this morning, Miss Tempus. You know, I think you and I should catch a movie sometime," he flirted. "Somewhere dark, and private, where we could get to know each other a little better."

Rachael smiled and replied coyly, "You never paid me a moment's notice before, why the sudden attention?"

"No, I've had my eye on you for years," he lied. "You cheered at my basketball games at Ridgeview, and…"

"As I recall, your eyes were only on Hera."

"You ran track your freshman year," he continued as he smiled. "Why did you think Jeremy and I went out? We loved to jog along behind you and admire your legs and pretty butt in those short little racing pants. And there is something else…"

"What?" she replied, unsure if she should feel flattered, or angered that she had been inspected like a piece of meat.

"This will sound stupid, but… do you believe in reincarnation… in past lives…"

"No."

"Well, I had this dream last night… and… it's like I was connected to a former life: a life where… we were together, and…"

"Well I don't recall that life, and I'm with Alex now. We're in love."

"Yes, Alex Pavé. He is safe… isn't he?"

"He's a gentleman, and he loves me," she insisted, a little defensively.

"Maybe, too much of a gentlemen?" he stated and then moved close and whispered in her ear. "I know what you really want," he announced.

She stared back, her face burning.

"And, if he did give you what you want, what you fantasize about, his brother would be standing there, gawking."

Rachael stood there speechless, angry, and embarrassed. But, more disturbing, she was shaken that he could see so easily into her mind.

"What you want is a bad boy," he told her in a soft whisper as he moved to take her in his arms. "Alex is nice, but nice is boring. I won't be faithful, I'm totally irresponsible, and my friends come first. But, I can love you better than he can."

She started to struggle away, but then allow him to take her in his arms. He moved closer and kissed her. The very danger of it, kissing in school, cheating on Alex when he might step in any minute looking for her, was both disturbing and thrilling.

"Can he kiss you like that?" Johnny asked as he ran his lips tantalizing across hers again. "Can he satisfy all your desires? Can he set your body on fire?" he asked as he released her.

"I… I can't… I…" she stuttered, her face flushed and her heart beating fast.

"Meet me after school, we'll get to know each other," he whispered into her ear.

"I can't… how would I explain to Alex, how would I…"

"There's a Spanish Club meeting right after school. Tell him you've got to stay. Your grades are dropping and your teacher insisted," he advised. "We'll blow it off and check out the new Starbucks across from the UFO Center, then, maybe, we can take a ride out into the desert. I got my license, and dad got me a car. It's an old beat-up black minivan, not too glamorous, but I tore out the back seats and put in a mattress."

"No, no way. I love Alex, and I could never do anything to hurt him," she protested, but her eyes betrayed her.

"He need never know," Johnny tempted her.

"I don't know why I'm even talking to you. Alex is special. What we have is special, and… and just get away from me," she declared and picked up her books to leave.

"I'll be waiting, lover," he called after her. "After school, today," he reminded her as he watched her scurry down the hallway, her hips swinging back and forth in a most tantalizing way.

She looked back at Johnny as she moved down the deserted corridor. I have to tell Alex, she thought. I've never kept anything from him. He'd understand, wouldn't he? I mean… it was just one kiss.

Max and Liz awoke to pounding at their door. Liz looked up, upset that they had overslept. "That must be the road manager. We're late for practice," she exclaimed with excitement.

Max was still half asleep as he watched his wife pull on a gown over her T-shirt and panties, and rush to the door. He was surprised as Viktor entered.

"I've got great news!" Viktor exclaimed.

"Come in," Liz offered as she closed the door.

Viktor turned to Liz and took her hand. "We were able to arrange a replacement, now you won't have to perform," he announced. But, he was surprised when he saw the crestfallen expression on the young hybrid's eyes.

"I thought this is what you wanted," he stated, confused. "It is true, is it not, that if you were tied to the rehearsals and the daily performances you would have no time to search for the others," he asked.

Liz sat down on the bed, her ballet shoes and tiny dress on the floor; she had practiced the former evening, too excited to sleep. Liz nodded her head. "Yes, of course… I couldn't perform… and search," she agreed without enthusiasm.

Max moved to her side, pulled her into a hug, and then turned to Viktor. "But, Liz was great. How will they find another dancer that could fill her role with such short notice?" he asked. "Maybe Liz should dance the opening performance, and the new girl could watch and then, when she's ready, could fill in," Max offered, knowing how much the dancing had meant to his wife.

Viktor noted the expression in Liz's face, could sense her loss. "The choreographer has already signed a contract with this Tunguska ex-patriot who's been living in LA for a few years. They've been working all morning. It's really only a small part… but…" he reconsidered, seeing the barely hidden tears of disappointment in her eyes. "I'm sure I can convince them of your plan," he said with a smile. "However, after the first show or two, they'll want the new girl to take your place permanently… I think the troupe will feel better with an all-Russian cast," he explained.

"No, it's okay." Liz announced, a smile breaking out as she wiped away a tear. "I knew the role was only temporary. Our goal is to find out what's going on in Roswell, and being stuck in the ballet would only delay our plans," she explained bravery.

"You, Max, and Michael will be needed for rehearsals, and the others for the performance nights, but this will ultimately free up your days," Viktor stated.

Max and Liz walked Viktor to the door, thanked him for all his help and then Max closed the door. Liz nodded as if everything was okay, but as Max swept her up in his arms, the tears, held back in front of the Tunguskian official, flooded out as she hugged him with a mixture of loss and happiness.

Ultra woke early and hopped down the trailer's stairs with more energy than she had felt in months. Even the horror of the night before seemed less scary now that she had her powers back and was no longer defenseless.

Blue Owl, still concerned about his 'mother,' opened the door and trailed after her. He took her hand and they walked to the fire pit. Not only was the fire out, but the wood was soaked from the rainstorm. "I've got some kindling in the trailer, mom. We'll can get the fire started and try to dry out some on the logs," he suggested.

"Yes, that might work, but let me try something else first." She crisscrossed the fire pit with four large logs.

Silver Eagle joined them shaking his head. "That will never work, Bonnie," he observed from years of making fires.

Ultra smiled at Blue and Sam as she extended her hands and stared at the logs. Suddenly, they burst into flame, causing the boys to jump back in surprise. She turned to them smiling. "And, by the way, it's not Bonnie; my name is Ultra, Princess Ultra D'Brano de Larek of the planet Cano." She extended her hand, and a gold bracelet materialized from nowhere and formed itself around her wrist, and a gold ruby-encrusted ring appeared on her first finger.

The boys looked at her as if they were seeing things. She laughed and extended her hand again. Instantly the boys ragged PJ were transformed into to clean T-shirts, jeans, and warm dry boots. She nodded her approval, and then changed her flannel nightshirt into a similar set of jeans and boots.

"Let's go into town and get some breakfast," she suggested. "And then, we've got to find your mother," Ultra declared.

Sam and Blue stared at her with goofy grins, imagining the possibilities of having a princess – a princess with super powers – as their mom. "She's probably at grandma's house," Blue stated.

"Yaya's Mesaliko and lives down on the reservation out by the Alamogordo Mountains," Sam explained. "But, we've got no way to get there."

"Why not take the truck?" Ultra asked.

"Because dad drove it over a tree stump and trashed the transmission last week," Blue Owl stated with disgust.

"He had a friend from the BIA tow it here," Sam informed her. "But it'll never run again. It's a piece of junk, just like our sorry old trailer."

Ultra strode to the old Chevy half-ton pickup truck, opened the door, and slipped in. The boys initially shook their heads, but recalling what she had done with the fire, and their clothes, they hopped in too. She placed her hand by the ignition switch and the truck jumped to life. Ultra lowered the automatic transmission level to drive. The boys covered their ears, waiting for the grinding of gears, but instead, it smoothly shifted into drive, and she slowly edged the truck forward and onto the road.

She had never driven, but had watched Black Crow several times. The car wandered back and forth across the dirt road until she figured out the controls.

She headed down the mountain road slowly and turned right onto the highway. She was growing more confident in her driving skills when she approached her first intersection. Ignoring the stop sign she blazed across, and was barely missed by an oncoming semi. The truck driver slammed on his brakes, and jackknifed as he blew his horn.

"Well, how rude," she declared as the semi skidded to a halt and its load of logs tumbled out blocking the road.

"Why didn't you stop?!" Sam screamed, feeling his heart nearly beating out of his chest. When he could get his breath back, he asked: "Didn't you see the stop sign?!"

"What's a stop sign?" she asked as she turned on the Clovis Highway and headed south. Smiling at Sam, she asked: "By the way, how do we get to these mountains again?"

Black Crow, who had crawled under the trailer to escape the rain, staggered out. He had been hiding, watching the display in wonder. He had seen Bonnie, or Ultra, or whatever her name really was, playing tricks with the fire. He knew he was still hung over, and knew he could have imagined it all, but he was sure the truck was busted. He stared at the red transmission fluid that still stained the ground where the truck had sat. He shook his head, and then remembered Congressman Cinnati's reward: $100,000 to anyone with information on the whereabouts of a real, honest-to-goodness alien. He smiled, already planning how he would spend the money.

The Royal Four and their mates met for a quickly arranged breakfast in the hotel restaurant. Max explained the change in the dancing plans, and Maria, sitting next to her best friend, wrapped a comforting arm around Liz.

"So, what do we do now, Max?" Alex asked. "We can't head to Roswell; you guys have rehearsals today and tomorrow."

"And then, weeks of performances before the dance troupe heads for Phoenix," Isabel added.

"So, we're stuck here with nothing to do?" asked Alex.

Max scrunched his shoulders, unsure what else to say.

"We could find Nasedo," Ava offered.

"What! You want to find the man who set us up to crash and burn?" Michael asked in wonder.

"We don't know he had anything to do with it," she argued angrily.

"We know he wasn't there when the Granolith blasted off, and minutes later the ship burrowed into a snow pile in Russia," Maria retorted.

"Killing Lonny and the others," Isabel added.

"Wait, you can't blame that on Nasedo," Ava argued. "Rath convinced them to stay in the Granolith to save their butts. If they'd jettison with us in the escape pod they would have survived too."

"Okay, that's true," acknowledged Max. "But, even if we wanted to find him, where would we look? It's been years, and he's probably moved on, maybe searching for us. What makes you think we could find him now?"

"I don't know," she stated as she fidgeted with her black ring. Tess had let her wear the ring that fateful morning and it was the only thing left of her duplicate. She wore it constantly now. "Tess told me how he raised her, how they had grown close… as close as a first-generation Antarian Protector and a hybrid could. I just feel he is here… in LA. He was her protector; I can't believe he would have purposely left her behind, or had anything to do with the Granolith crashing."

Kyle moved up and put a comforting arm around his sister. "Look, what would it hurt? The rest of us have some time to kill. I suggest we rent a car and drive around. Maybe we'll pick up a 'vibe' or something. It can't be worse than being cooped up in the hotel all week," he argued.

Ava smiled broadly and hugged Kyle. "Can we invite Viktor, too?" she asked. Ava felt her face flush as the others stared at her, "I mean… he must want to get out of the hotel and explore a little bit too," she argued innocently.

Days passed and Zeke and Hera adjusted to life, together as a couple, falsely assumed to be two celebrities, living an uneasy life cooped up in their hotel room.

Zeke ordered his car, and when it arrived helped Hera in. Immediately they were mobbed by autograph hounds and drenched in a flood of flashing strobes from the paparazzi's cameras. Reporters converged around the car and yelled out questions. Even Entertainment Tonight and CNN sent teams with TV cameras and tried to force an impromptu interview.

Hotel staff held the reporters and the growing crowd back as Zeke tore out of the hotel. But the reporters anticipated this move and soon a pack was on his heels. Hera looked exasperated, and used her power to alter the traffic light patterns to allow their escape. But, before they could rest, a news vans approached from another direction and the chased was on again. Zeke pulled down a side road, and as they were momentarily alone, driving down a tree lined, high-end suburban neighborhood, he altered the color of the Dodge Charger. Never slowing, Hera slipped over Zeke and took the wheel and changed her hair to a short blonde style as Zeke crouched out of view on the floor. She pulled a U-turn and headed back up the hill, driving a sedate 35, as the two reporter's cars passed them and a TV van rushed in the other direction.

Hera took the first left and weaved up through a deserted road. She indicted it was safe for Zeke to get up, and he smiled and took his place on the passenger side of the zooming dark blue car. Both laughed with the excitement of their successful escape.

As Hera rounded the next corner she realized she was on the road to the gigantic Hollywood sign that was one of the most famous landmarks in southern California. She shifted her hair back to its shoulder-length brunette form and returned the car's paint color to white as she pulled into the small lot.

As Zeke moved to get out Hera grabbed his hand and pulled him back. "I'm sorry," she told him as she pulled Zeke into a long, tight hug. "I've been a bitch the last couple of days and I'm sorry," she stated with a small smile. "That dream threw me. I could see the look of love in your eyes when you reached out for Ultra, and I just panicked. You mean so much to me… I couldn't stand the thought of losing you."

"I..." Zeke started. But she cut him off.

"So, how do I act?" Hera asked. "How do I show the man I love that you are the most important person in my life? By holing up in the bathroom and ignoring you," she shook her head in regret.

"I…"

"And, there's more. I was shocked and hurt, but… I was also grieving. I saw Larek there, holding my hand, looking at me with love…," she sighed. "I gained a father I do not know, and lost a father… Khivar… a man that, despite his history, despite what he did to Zan and his wife, and the others, a man I had grown to love."

Zeke pulled her into a hug, and felt her shaking in his embrace. He whispered into her ear, "I look at you, and I know you're the person I'm supposed to be with," he declared as he tried to push his duty away. He placed his hand on her cheek and lowered his head to look her directly in the eyes. "I've always known it. What we've shared, our life in that other time, our transformation to find the Four, our battle to reverse the shift and stop Khivar, it's brought us together. You're the one, Hera... the only one," he declared. Willing the image of Ultra from his mind, determined to bury the feelings he secretly harbored for his first love, the destiny he so desperately wanted to avoid, he continued. "I could never be with anyone else," he whispered and then drew her into a long kiss.

She pulled back and smiled, wanting desperately to believe. He wiped away a tear from her cheek and smiled back. They kissed again, and then Hera indicated they should check out the landmark.

"Maybe we'll get a vibe, or something, about Nasedo," Hera commented. Hand in hand they ran to the edge of cliff, and looked out over the valley.

"I sense Khivar was right, Nasedo is here in Southern California," Zeke stated as they continued to stare out over the ravine at the houses, swimming pools, malls, and clogged freeways below. "I sense he is close, maybe in the South or down by the ocean."

They had decided to check it out when the reporter's cars and the news van pulled in. Reporters and photographers poured out and Zeke and Hera dashed for their car. Hera slide across the seat and Zeke jumped behind the wheel, and then pulled out onto to the single-lane road. The pack started to follow, but for some reason, they all had mechanical problems, and none of their vehicles would start. Zeke laughed as he drove swiftly down the access road, smiling with yet another escape, when he was met with another contingent. He veered right and left, but in the end pulled back into the Beverly Hills Hilton garage as he and Hera ran smiling for their room.

"I believe I saw a hot tub on the balcony, Mr. Swift," she laughed.

"I believe you are right, Mrs. Swift," he chuckled as he lifted her up, gave her a big hug and a kiss, and then smoothly sat her feet back on the sidewalk as the continued to run.

Amíle stepped back from the shallow silver well and shook her head. The image of Zeke and Hera, happily skipping along in the Hilton parking lot, was displayed in red-tinged waters. Beside her, a slim woman in a long, purple cloak turned away as the image in the fantômium faded.

"Your son does not see," the woman observed with despair as she pulled the hood back to reveal her stunning profile of pale white skin, dark brows and hair, and sensuous deep-purple lips.

"No," the High Priestess noted as she addressed her friend, "My Ezekiel sees. But, he is headstrong and refuses to heed our call."

The real Dakura, the true Sorceress of Nei, looked upset. As she ran her hand through her dark curls, she stepped close to Amíle and stared into her glowing blue eyes. "Our message was clear. He must marry the Princess. Our future, the very future of the Five Planets rests in their hands. How can he ignore his duty?" she demanded in an irritated croak.

"Maybe our future is not as dire as you believe. Maybe Hera is the one?"

"No!" the Sorceress declared sharply. "I have foreseen the future. Do you believe I would forsake my only child and send Paglia to the desert to live as a mortal if it was not the only way?" she asked and returned her haggard gaze to the fantômium. Its former clear surface was now cloudy, no longer showing her what was and what was to come. "Paglia had to mate with the King, and carry my granddaughter to Earth. Hera's future is clear." She spun and took Amíle by the shoulders, "You did make it clear to Paglia, right? She understands her duty, and that her future lies on Earth?"

"Yes. Your granddaughter was not supposed to fall in love with the Prince: only to guide him. Deep down, she knows this. In the end, she will see and help Ezekiel fulfill his duty," the High Priestess replied with more confidence than she felt.

"Paglia knows…?" the Sorceress started uneasily.

"Yes," Amíle interrupted. "She knows that she and Hera must pass over… and that only her daughter can save our small blue neighbor."

"Right," the Sorceress nodded solemnly. "And about Ezekiel…?"

"Yes," Amíle nodded. "That the Prince must be united with Princess Ultra."

The Priestess considered the Sorceress and recalled when she had been recruited, all those years before. Dakura had seen the attack in her fantômium and devised a desperate plan to save Antar. Amíle had agreed to befriend the young Paglia and her baby and had arranged for their escape and transport to Earth.

"I have tried to intervene, to make him see, but another disrupts my call."

"Exactly!" the Sorceress shouted angrily as her eyes strayed to the shallow well. Seeing that her friend was still unconvinced, she pulled Amíle to the shallow well knowing it was time for the High Priestess to see it all. The surface of the murky water cleared and both women swayed as the images of death and destruction unleashed from the huge spherical ships swirled before them. There was another blinding explosion and they could see the jagged edge of the hemispheric Sense Field over the palace. The dome glowed red where the dome had been severed, and below it the left wing of the palace lay in smoldering ruins.

"Even now Topol… The Empress… she blocks your entreaties…"

Amíle grimly nodded, seeing it was the truth. "She must be stopped… or all of Antar shall soon lie in ruins."

As the week progressed, Blanca and Cede spent every waking minute together, mostly in the Learning Temple or 'practicing' to act like Zeke and Hera. Soon their knowledge base far exceeded what could be expected of even the most advanced students at West Roswell.

Across town, another pair of teenagers broke their kiss. Rachael was unsure how to broach the subject, but after a long steamy evening on the couch, she confessed her dalliance with Johnny and the stolen kiss. It did not trouble Alex like she expected. It was almost like he had been waiting for it.

The three couples attended school and Rachael tried, as much as possible, to never be alone, and when she could to be with Alex. As they entered school that day, he was, as always, the perfect boyfriend, attentive and loving. He met her in the hallway and gave her hand a confident squeeze and a special smile as she left for class.

She was too excited to concentrate on class, and it seemed to drag on forever. As the bell rang, Blanca picked up her book bag and scurried to the door and the waiting Cede. Rachael began to follow, but catching Johnny in her peripheral vision, she sucked in her breath and knew she could delay it no longer. She allowed her folder to slip from her fingers and all her papers spilled out and flew across the floor. As the classroom emptied for lunch period, she bent to her knees to pick them up when a masculine hand slid up her arm.

She looked up and was staring directly into Johnny's remarkable brown eyes. "I've waited for you each day after school," he stated as he moved close and slid his other hand along her other arm.

Rachael did not have to pretend to be moved; she knew he could feel the goose bumps forming under his fingers and feel her tremble at his touch. "Well, you'll wait an eternity, I'm not coming."

Johnny pulled her close and started to kiss her. "No," she whispered. She pretended to resist, but after only a second succumbed and fell into his arms and a long passionate kiss. She felt she was falling down a long tunnel, swirling as she fell deeper and deeper into his embrace. Rachael knew she must break the kiss, if she was ever to escape. She loved Alex and she knew what she was doing, but could not allow him to see her kissing Johnny; it would break his heart. She struggled and finally pulled back. She felt the skin on her face burning and her heart racing as she got quickly to her feet and ran to the door. Rachael looked back at Johnny, still on his knees smiling up at her, as she ran from the room.

Rachael sat in World History, her final class of the day. She had not been able to concentrate all afternoon. The thrill of Johnny's touch and his forbidden kiss lingered blocking out the droning voice of the teacher. Everything he had said about Alex was true. He was safe, kind, loving, and always a gentleman. Sometimes, too much of gentleman, she sighed as she stared absentmindedly out the window at the trees budding with spring leaves. Suddenly the bell rang and the class erupted, the kids rushed out of the room for their lockers, the buses, or their cars.

She stood and looked up from her personal trance. The classroom was empty. Then she noticed her book bag; it was sitting innocently on the teacher's desk. She had not seen Johnny, but knew he was the only one who could have dropped it off. She approached the bag as if it was a sack of dynamite. As she expected it, protruding from the front pocket was a slip of yellow school paper. Rachael withdrew the note and read it.

Don't fight it. You know you want this, too. I can feel it in your kiss. Reach out, you can remember us if you try. We were as one in our prior life, and it is our destiny to be joined in love, together again. Meet me by the Spanish Club door at 3. I will fulfill your every fantasy.

John

Rachael staggered. She was not sure if she could do this. She feared she had been brainwashed, but now she could sort of remember them together. They were in a theater, a special theater, and he was the attendant. He smiled at her and her heart leaped, and since then, they had been inseparable.

Alex walked down the hall, past a lingering Johnny, and poked his head into the history classroom. "Rae?" Alex called as he poked his head in the room. "You okay?" he asked with concern as he moved to her. "Come on, Cede, I mean Zeke, is waiting," he informed her and extended his hand. With a slight shake of his head, and shift of his eyes, he let her know that Johnny was eavesdropping just outside the door. He nodded for her to continue.

She looked at his hand, strong and sure. She stared up into his loving blue eyes and knew she could do it, and turned away to stuff the note in her hand down into the book bag.

"What's that," he asked loudly.

"Oh… just a note…"

"From a secret admirer," he joked. "Should I be jealous?" he asked with a smile.

"No… it's… from my Spanish teacher. She said my grades were dropping and suggested I join the club," she replied loudly.

"Oh, okay. I'll go with you."

"No!" she yelled, in a loud and insistent tone. "I mean… you're taking French. You know how territorial those two clubs are especially since French club is so small. And besides it would be boring," she hastily explained.

"Sure," he answered. He moved close and wrapped an arm around her waist and moved in to kiss her.

"No," she whispered. "Not, in school. We could get in trouble," she stated.

Alex sensed her draw back and shook his head in confusion. No meant 'no,' but sometimes 'no' meant 'yes.' Girls were confusing: they didn't know what they wanted, but he thought Rachael was different.

As if to prove his point, Rachael swung her arm around him, kissed him hard, as if she was saying goodbye, ready to do her part, and then ran off.

"Call me and tell me how it went," Alex called to her retreating figure.

She stopped halfway down the hallway, one hand holding the book bag, and the other drawn up to her chest in indecision, and looked back. He could see her eyes glistening with what look like tears, before she nodded and hurried away.

Alex walked down the deserted hallways, past the security screening equipment and out into the warm spring afternoon. The sun glowed hot in the clear blue sky, but surprisingly he felt a chill. Cede and Blanca had pulled the Explorer up to the door and he hopped into the rear seat beside Alan.

Cede pulled onto the exit road of the rapidly empting parking lot. "Where's Sara?" he asked Alan.

"She has to cheer for the JV basketball team; they're playing up in Portales," Alan replied. "Then she has to stay and root for the varsity."

"Rachael's staying for Spanish Club," Alex interjected before anyone could question her whereabouts.

"We better get home, I've got a ton of homework," Blanca complained.

"I think you're overdoing it, Blanca," Alan advised. "Teenagers hang out; they don't study all the time."

Cede put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. "And, we've got to practice being Zeke and Hera," he laughed as he stole a kiss. "If no one sees us out and together they could become suspicious."

"Sure. I'm just a little overwhelmed. How do you kids do it?" Blanca asked. "I've studied all the topics in the Learning Temple. I could write the books we study from and still I'm stuck with hours and hours of boring, repetitious homework, preparation for ridiculous midterms, extra credit assignments…," she shook her head. "I can't wait for Hera to come back," she exclaimed.

"What you need is a cool, soothing Alien Blast," Alex advised.

Blanca look confused as she turned to Cede as he pulled forward. They were suddenly thrown forward as he was forced to slam on his breaks to avoid hitting a black minivan. It had cut him off. The four watched as the jerk rushed down the parking lot, turned towards town, and tore down the road.

"It's a drink, at the Crashdown," he explained to Blanca, trying to ignore the idiot in the minivan.

Blanca smiled. "Oh, a drink," she laughed. "Okay; and I want to try the Saturn Rings I've heard so much about, too," she chuckled and snuggled in close beside Cede, as he pulled out of the parking lot on to the surface road into town.

Zeke sat on the balcony staring out over Beverly Hills. He could see the pool below glinting in the afternoon sun. Hera was trying; he was sure she was still upset, but no longer angry. He also knew she was still overwhelmed with the realization that Larek, and not Khivar, was her father.

He had tried to comfort her, explaining that the dual wedding was only a dream, but he knew she was still shaken. He saw in the way she had made up that she was trying to forgive him, but he still felt a little put out. After all, he hadn't done anything: he hadn't cheated, at least not since Ultra blasted off – unless you can consider having daydreams about another as cheating.

The phone rang and he answered it.

"Mr. Cruise…" the manager began.

"It's Swift. Tom Swift."

"Yes, of course. I'm afraid the lobby is full of the paparazzi. If you try to leave in your car you will be mobbed again."

"This is ridiculous, I'm not…"

"Yes, I understand. Here is what I propose. You remember Charles, the bell boy? He'll pick up your car and meet you a few blocks away. I've hired a couple of look-alike actors. We'll let the press see 'you' and Ms. Holmes getting into a dark limousine and pulling away. Then we can spirit you out in a delivery truck and you can pick up your car."

"Very clever," Zeke complemented the manager.

"This happens all the time. We've become accustomed to arranging escapes for our celebrities. It's why they stay at our Hilton," he commented with pride.

Charles got the call from the manager to head down to the garage and collect the hotel's double-plus guests' car. He entered the office and picked up the key; he was surprised a superstar would drive a common rental car. It was nice, he'd heard it had a hemi, and he was sure it was fast, but still Tom Cruise should drive a Porsche or a Lamborghini. As he walked out of the office and down to the garage, his cell phone rang.

"Hello," Charles answered.

"Charles, this is your lucky day," the male voice on the phone replied.

"Who is this?" the young black man questioned.

"I'm the man who's going to make you 5Gs richer," he voice answered.

"Look, if this is da cops, I'm clean now. You can't entrap me, I'm hanging up…"

"Wait; open the envelope you received with the key. In there are two VIP tickets to Disneyland, another set for Knotts Berry Farm, and a map. You'll also see fifty crisp, new one-hundred dollar bills. Just slip the tickets into the visor so they can't be missed, put the map in the glove compartment, and pocket the cash."

"That's it!?" Charles asked with guarded excitement. "Noth'n illegal?"

"That's it. That… and keeping your mouth shut."

"What's keep'n me from pocket'n the cash, and da tickets, and just boogeying it out of here?" he asked as he strutted down the garage passageway.

"No, I wouldn't advise that. I know who you are and where you are. Your grandmother in Compton would find it very disturbing if her grandson was mugged on the way home tonight. No, just do as you are told, keep your mouth shut, and enjoy the money. I am generous, but don't ever think you can cross me… and live to tell about it."

Charles gulped and his hands shook as he opened the envelope. He saw the tickets, the folded Hertz map, and the money. "Listen," he began, but then heard the dial tone as the connection was cut. He looked around and suddenly realized he was alone in the deserted parking garage below the hotel.

Kal nodded as he put down the phone. He returned to the patio by the pool and smiled at Raeve as he stepped to the table, gave her a kiss on the cheek and sat down. He nodded to his cook who moved his cart to the table and sat out the first course.

All the outside Crashdown tables were full, so Alex, Alan, Cede, and Blanca took a booth at the rear. Alan could see his brother was trying to join in on the conversation, but he was distracted, his eyes kept flicking to the front of the restaurant and out across the street. He laughed too hard, and at slightly the wrong time: Alan knew something was wrong, but his brother was blocking their psychic connection.

He had a thought, and said he'd be back in a minute. He left and walked out of the restaurant to the Ford Explorer to get the instructions to 'Doom.' Alex loved RPG games, and Alan knew his brother would get a kick out of the latest update.

Let me know that I've done wrong
When I've known this all along
I go around a time or two
Just to waste my time with you

Tell me all that you've thrown away
Find out games you don't wanna play
You are the only one that needs to know

As he rounded the corner he saw the cars lined up in the drive through at the new Starbucks Coffee that had sprung up across from the UFO Center. He placed his hand by the Explorer's door and could hear the soft satisfying click as the lock retracted. Then he noticed the black minivan that had cut them off in the parking lot was in line.

I'll keep you my dirty little secret
(Dirty little secret)
Don't tell anyone or you'll be just another regret
(Just another regret, hope that you can keep it)
My dirty little secret

Who has to know
When we live such fragile lives
It's the best way we survive
I go around a time or two
Just to waste my time with you

Alan started across the road to say something to the jerk. But, when he was almost to the van, his eyes shot open and he staggered back as if hit in the face with a board. Sitting in the passenger seat, snuggled in close to one of the football jocks was a girl that looked like Rachael. Alan studied the boy and recognized him: it was Johnny. He had his arm around the girl's shoulders and they were kissing while they waited for the line to move forward.

Tell me all that you've thrown away
Find out games you don't wanna play
You are the only one that needs to know

I'll keep you my dirty little secret
(Dirty little secret)
Don't tell anyone or you'll be just another regret
(Just another regret, hope that you can keep it)
My dirty little secret

Alan could not be sure it was Rachael until he stepped into the coffee shop and got a better angle. The van pulled forward and he could see it was his brother's girlfriend. She was sitting close. He watched in amazement as she unbuttoned the top two buttons of Johnny's shirt. Alan staggered back, trying to blot out the image of Rachael kissing the jock's neck and whispering in Johnny's ear.

Who has to know
The way she feels inside (inside)
Those thoughts I can't deny (deny)
These sleeping dogs won't lie (won't lie)
And all I've tried to hide
It's eating me apart
Trace this life out

Alan stood in the shop, staring out the windows mesmerized as the van pulled to the curb, and then watched as it turned south, out of town, towards the desert. He plopped down on a stool and a pretty young classmate he vaguely recognized from West Roswell asked what he wanted. He fumbled for a moment and eventually ordered a large espresso; he knew he needed something strong before he could return to the Crashdown and face his brother.

I'll keep you my dirty little secret
(Dirty little secret)
Don't tell anyone or you'll be just another regret
(Just another regret)

I'll keep you my dirty little secret
(Dirty little secret)
Don't tell anyone or you'll be just another regret

(Just another regret, hope that you can keep it)
My dirty little secret
Dirty little secret
Dirty little secret

Who has to know
Who has to know.

The girl turned to make Alan's drink when her shift supervisor came over. "It's about time, Sandy," she barked in a heavy Liverpool brogue. "You're late again."

"I'm sorry Sophie… Ms. Hallen," she corrected, seeing the look in her pretty, pale-skinned 29-year old supervisor's face. "It's impossible to get here by 1500. School doesn't let out until 1445, and…"

"Never mind, make me two Mocha Lattes with whipped cream; make them grandes. I need you to watch the shop for a few minutes. I have to make a delivery."

"We make deliveries now," Sandy asked, with a knowing smile.

"For special customers, we make exceptions," Sophie smiled, trying to hold back a giggle.

The girl made the hot drinks, one straight, and one with three packets of sugar, then added the whipped cream, and slid on the see-through plastic caps before handing them to her boss. Sophie snapped them up.

"Is that for Mr. Brody?" Sandy asked.

"Yes," Sophie replied. "He's kinda cute, and… interesting," she laughed as she removed her Starbuck's smock and hurried across the street to the UFO Center.

Sandy followed Sophie with her eyes, seeing the wiggle in her supervisor's hips, the wild orange Oilily top with ruffles around the neck and the straps of her black
bra just peeking out from under her lacy-strapped chopped cami. Sophie turned and waved and Sandy could see the sun glinting off her boss's diamond studded belly button pin. "And," Sandy mumbled under her breath, "even more important, he's rich."

Sandy finished the espresso and turned back to the boy. He had his head down, and was obviously suffering in his own personal hell.

Alan sat stunned. "Taur, I hope I was able to block that!" he moaned to himself. "If not, Alex will have seen everything. How could Rachael," he whispered, but his musings were interrupted as the counter girl touched him on the shoulder and handed him the espresso.

"Trouble?" she asked.

He nodded sadly, and shook his head in despair.

The shop was nearly deserted and Sandy took his hand and led him to an open booth near the wall. She helped the handsome young man in and then slid in opposite him. He was beautiful, she thought. She immediately recognized him from school. Every girl knew the Pavé Twins. She sat in silence admiring his long lean frame, his strong jaw, flawless skin, and short blonde hair. Sandy knew it was Alan because of the dimple in his cheek, and she knew Alex wore his hair in a spiky style. She'd had a crush on Alan since she had been seated next to him in an assembly once. He was so kind and always ready to give her a big welcoming smile. She had selected a seat two rows back from him in Algebra II class; she was too shy to approach him directly, but she still wanted to be near him. Sandy nervously placed a comforting hand over his, and he turned and stared at her with those amazing blue eyes.

"Girl troubles?" she asked, knowing that was the only thing that could lay a teenage boy so low.

"How could she do it?" he whispered. He looked up and realized he recognized her from his Algebra class. He recalled her name was Sandy and her pretty heart-shaped face, thick brunette hair that fell to her shoulders and large, compassionate dark eyes. He appreciated her support and could feel the soft contours of her warm hand on his.

"I don't understand how she could do it? Kissing him, in public, like a harlot in heat. I was so sure she was in love," he stated lugubriously. "It shakes your faith in all women," he moaned with despair, as he took an extra-large swallow of the scalding, caffeine-supercharged drink.

Sandy smiled, and took his hand in her left as she stroked it with her right. She tried to apply just the right amount of compassion, with just a hint of seduction. "Some girls don't know how lucky they are," she stated as he looked up.

Sandy moved her hair away from her eyes in what she hoped was an alluring manner, and moved close. "I'd never treat you that way. I'd always be loyal," she cooed in a soft whisper. Feeling suddenly brave, she continued. "If I was your girl, I'd never let another stand between us," she promised, and then squeezed his hand as she smiled into his troubled eyes.

Sophie skipped across Main Street with a lightness in her step and heart that surprised even her. Since she had met the owner of the UFO Center, as he checked out the Starbucks, her life had changed. Suddenly fleeing the drab gray Liverpool streets for the sun of the Southwest seemed like the best idea she had ever had. She had sought the burning desert, the towering mountains, anything and everything to blank out the recurring dreams of her now departed husband. Five years after his death of terminal bone cancer, she still saw his image in the pubs and parks back home.

Since she crossed the Atlantic she'd never given another man a second look, but Brody was different. Maybe it was his familiar British accent that subtlety reminded her of home, his '70s style punk-rocker hair, or his blue eyes that she became lost in… or the fact that he had 300 million in the bank. Whatever the reason, she felt alive and ready for love again as she approached the Center.

Mr. Janis at the ticket booth recognized her. She held up the two large Starbuck coffee cups and nodded with her head. He smiled and hit the handicapped access button and the piston on the frame extended outwards to swing the new glass door open. Sophie smiled back and slipped in as the door automatically began to close after her.

She maneuvered through the small crowd in the lobby, waited until a couple opened the double doors, and then walked down the empty stairs as she moved down to the main exhibit floor. A few tourists studied the various posters, many devoted to the new sighting. A continuous loop of the starship's ascension and its disappearance into the black disk ran in one of the nearly empty theaters. A small new theater, half-filled she noticed, showed a live shot, on a 10-foot projection TV, of the green circle of grass that had sprung up at the departure site. The four black squares were constantly changing, continuing to show a live connection between Earth and the visitors.

She noticed Brody was not around and ran up the small metal staircase to his office and knocked. There was no answer, but she heard a buzz as he depressed the lock release. Balancing one of the cups of coffee on her chest, she turned the handle with her free hand and entered.

Brody turned to her with an absent-minded gaze and then suddenly realized who it was. He sprung from his chair and helped her in, taking one of the coffees.

He smiled faintly and turned back with a frown to the set of monitors suspended from the ceiling and blanketing his office. They showed various closed-circuit shots of the interior and exterior of the UFO Center, but the center and largest screen was devoted to a live shot of the black four square blocks on the green disk of grass.

Sophie moved to the desk as he returned to his chair. She sat on the edge of his desk, her tie-died boden mini skirt riding up mid-thigh to expose her shapely legs, black leggings and black suede pointy-toed slouch boots. She stared down at Brody who seemed lost in the image on the screen. "Why do you look so sad?" Sophie asked as she fiddled with her ribbon string necklace. "When I first met you at the shop a month ago, you were the most upbeat person in the world. You should be happy. The Center still is doing well. Sure attendance is down little…"

"It's not that… I've got troubles at home," he replied, in his strong British accent. Brody took a sip of his drink then set it aside. Then stood and stared at her.

She took his hand and brought it to her lips, then smiled. "Do you want to talk about it?" Sophie put down her drink, and rested her forehead on his. "Is this… our meetings… the cause of the problems?" she asked. "You said you were not married, and your relationship with… Blanca… was not going anywhere… your family backgrounds were just… too different."

"I have to tell her; I'm feeling like a cad… I know we've never done anything, but I've cheated just the same, I've cheating in my heart," he explained, his eyes closed with grief. "Things were deteriorating, little fights, disagreements, and then this week, I could see things had changed. And now… she's gone…"

"She left you?!" Sophie asked in surprise, thrilled for herself but saddened for the effect it was having on Brody.

"No, she's still at home, but… I've caught her eyes straying to Cede… You know the look when you see it; they're in love, and I've lost her."

"Maybe you're just overacting, it could be just a casual meaningless flirtation," she advised. "Wait, who's Cede?"

"One of the Royal Pro…," he stopped and rapidly rephrased his response, "one of the guards."

"Guards… plural?" she asked in surprise. "How many guards do you have?"

"Usually just two, but sometimes four: they live in the guesthouse out back behind the pool. They provide 24/7 protection for the…"

"I know you're rich," she interrupted, "everyone knows, but still… do you have it laying out in piles in the living room? I mean, I've never heard of anyone with personal guards."

She noticed he had raised his head, tuning her out as he gazed up at the TV. She stared up and saw the gathered crowd was moving, rushing to the circle, as three of the four squares began to mutate. The outside edges of the solid black blocks had become more oval like. Most of the center area had cleared, being replaced with green grass leaving only an elongated dot. Each of the two blocks on the top row, and one on the left, had changed.

Brody lost in his own mist of indecision did not see the transformation, or hear the yelling coming from his guests just down the stairs. He turned back to Sophie, "I saw them heading for the guesthouse late last night; they stopped and I could see them kiss in the moonlight. I feel so awkward now, living there, seeing them try to keep their hands off each other; I've decided to move back into my house."

Sophie was so thrilled to hear that Brody was leaving his girlfriend she did not notice the TV, as long thin lines began to extend from the edges of each of the three altered squares. The lines continued to grow until they joined mid-way forming three fourths of an 'X.'

Sophie took his face in her hands and stared deep in his eyes. "I'm here for you, Brody. You know I like you, and… I think you like me. I don't know what will develop, but let me fix dinner for you tonight, in your house, and we'll begin… to find out," she asked with a hopeful smile and then moved closer to him and for the first time kissed him.

Zeke and Hera followed the Hilton manager's suggestion and took the service elevator to the basement. There a cook met them and directed the two to a waiting bakery truck. They slipped in the back, and the thin Asian driver closed the van door.

They sat alone in the dark van, the only illumination coming from the light seeping in through the two small windows in the rear doors. Zeke put his arm around Hera as they bounded down the street smelling the aroma from the racks of bread, rolls, pastries, and fresh pies that surrounded them. But Zeke's senses were alerted and he began to become concerned.

"What if the manager was in collusion with Khivar? What if this was all a set up to capture us?" Zeke asked.

Hera searched the rear door for a latch with her hands. But in the semi darkness she found nothing. "Should we blast our way out?" she whispered. "We may only have a few seconds before we're gassed or…"

But she stopped as they both could feel the truck slowing and pulling to the side. They listened and could hear the truck door open. They could also feel the load in the truck shift as the driver got down and slammed his door.

"It's too late, they're coming," Hera exclaimed. "Shoot first and ask questions later. I'll take anyone on the right; you blast anyone on your left."

They watched in fear, ready to defend their lives as the locking mechanism on the rear door began to twist open. Suddenly Zeke pulled her behind him and threw up his left hand projecting a wavering green defense screen.

The truck driver opened the door and sprung back in surprise when he saw the force field. He was alone and mystified. "Hey! What's that?!" he yelled.

Zeke could see the driver was not surrounded by a group of black-clad Antarvéian storm troopers and quickly dropped the shield. "What's what?" Zeke innocently replied.

Zeke quickly hopped down, scanned the streets for danger and seeing none offered his hands up to Hera. She jumped into his arms, still tense, her heart beating madly. But, as she saw they were okay, she began to laugh in relief.

Zeke opened his wallet and pulled out two fifty dollar bills and gave them to the driver. The driver's dark eyes were wide with fright, still showing the effects of witnessing the green glow, but he took the tip and staggered uncertainly before he began to run to the cab door. He started the engine, looked back and pointed across the street and then rushed away.

Zeke picked Hera up and twirled her around. Both laughed as relief flooded their system. "That was pretty silly," Zeke said and he pulled her close and kissed her. "Khivar has no idea we're not still in Roswell," he chucked as he looked up to the blue sunny skies and closed his eyes with a mixture of relief and embarrassment.

The two were smiling and then noticed their car was waiting for them. They walked hand-in-hand across the street to the short black man standing beside their Dodge Charger. "Good morning Charles," Hera called.

"Morn'n ma'am," Charles replied. He had got on the hotel's Internet and looked up Tom Cruise. He could see some resemblances, but this young man was in his mid-20's not mid 30's. He was also taller, and his eyes were an amber shade of brown.

"Here ya go, Mr. Swift," he called as he handed the keys to the young man. "Otel dropped off some complimentary tickets for you and the misses. If ya never been to Disneyland, ya should check it out. Those are VIP tickets too. No wait'n in line.

Zeke tipped the boy and got in. "Sounds interesting. We're not from around here. Any idea how to get there?" he asked.

"Sure, dere's a map in dere too. I highlighted the route from ere ta Anaheim. Just follow the signs when ya get off the freeway, dere everywhere."

Zeke nodded and started the car. Hera opened the map and studied the yellow highlighted route. She pointed to the next street and indicated Zeke should turn. Soon they approached the I-5 freeway and he slid into the 75 MPH traffic heading south.

The two rode in silence, Zeke steering with his left hand while holding Hera's hand with his right. They were both still recovering from the fright and savoring their 'escape.' The traffic was surprisingly light, and they made good time. Hera indicated they should exit on South Harbor and Zeke moved right to the deceleration lane and exited the freeway. He turned onto Harbor Blvd, and as they rounded a bend they saw Disneyland straight ahead.

Hera could see the fairytale castle in the distance, but she could not enjoy the sight. It reminded her of Zeke and Ultra when they had explored, alone and in love, the amusement park. She was about to insist they go to the other park when she received a strong psychic 'ping.' Before she could say a word, however, she felt the car sway as Zeke turned sharply into the parking lot of a three-story glass medical building.

She looked into his eyes, and knew he felt it too. "He's here!" Zeke exclaimed. Hera nodded. Zeke parked the car and they walked across the lot and entered an expensively decorated reception room. They had no idea what to do next. This was obviously an upscale establishment, and they could not just barge in and search all the rooms.

Both saw the stares from the reception staff. One older woman, staring at them and what looked like two hand-drawn sketches, picked up a phone. Zeke was about to suggest they leave and sneak in later when they were approached by a pretty, dark-skinned Latino nurse with large brown eyes. She did not seem angry, did not demand to know why they were there, but simply indicated that they should follow her. She silently led them back to a doctor's office. The nurse opened the door to a large office and a doctor in a lab coat with a stethoscope around his neck rose as they entered. He stared at a separate set of drawings, compared Zeke and Hera to the sketches, and then smiled.

"Good morning, I'm Dr. Shaal," the short, middle-aged man, with a weak chin and prominent double chin announced. "We've been waiting for you."

"What?!" Zeke exclaimed.

"Your uncle… Mr. Nasedo… he said one day he would have visitors. He described you Max," he smiled. "And I assume this beautiful young woman must be your wife, Liz?"

Zeke looked at Hera, initially confused, but realizing that with their transformed appearances, they must look like his father and Mother Liz. Unsure how to proceed, he took Hera's hand and nodded. "Yes, we have been searching for 'Uncle Nasedo' for such a long time. He's here then?"

"Yes, he is. But, I'm afraid he is not well. He came to us several years ago with a failing mind and a crippled body. Our services are not cheap, but your uncle seems to have an inexhaustible supply of money," he chuckled. "We have provided him the best treatment available, but I am afraid his condition has not improved. He will be so happy you have finally come. Let me take you to him."

The doctor showed them to a distant room in the private hospital. He opened a stainless steel door, and inside they saw a clean, but starkly impersonal apartment. The room was furnished only with a hospital bed, a single wooden chair, and a TV. The floor was a flat, gray linoleum, and the walls were an institutional beige except for a shire in one corner. There they saw pictures of the starship's ascent and newspaper clippings of the blackened blastoff ring. A photo of the green circle was thumb tacked to the wall in the center of the clippings.

There was an old man lying in the bed and he did not look up as the three entered. His face was pale and his expression was blank, as if in an Alzheimer fog. Nasedo was covered with a white sheet, and one of his hands fumbled with the edge.

Dr. Shaal shook Nasedo's shoulder and the old man stirred and sat up. He was dressed in a tattered green oriental robe, which hung unbelted exposing his bone-thin legs. His eyes stared unseeing as the doctor turned to him. Nasedo's whiskers stuck out like white weeds and his head was totally bald except for a few strands around his ears. The doctor helped him to the chair and Nasedo appearing dazed except for his hands, which he wrung nervously.

The short doctor turned to Zeke and Hera. "He said his name was Nasedo and he was a protector. At first he spoke, and explained that you would appear soon. But his confidence seemed to wane as no one came to rescue him. He withdrew into himself, and for the last year he has been silent. Unless you can break through the constant mist he lives in, you may get very little from him."

Dr. Shaal approached the man cautiously, as if he thought Nasedo might bite, and looked into his face. He attempted an introduction, but soon withdrew. Then Nasedo spoke, and the words, while only an indistinguishable garble, were clearly harsh and yet fearful too.

"What did he say?" Hera asked in a low voice.

"I'm not really sure," Dr. Shall replied. "I've recorded his rambling. One of the nurses took them to the University, to get a translation, or to even identify the language. They said it was like nothing they had ever heard. When he first arrived he spoke clearly. But with time he returned more and more to this strange language. At one time there were words of English mixed in too, and I recognized this pattern. I think what he just uttered, was something about the Grand Litch. It appears, as best we can guess, to be holy relic from his homeland."

"It's the Granolith," Zeke corrected. "Can you try asking him a question? Tell him we are…"

But now Nasedo swung his large bald head in their direction. His dazed eyes seemed to come to life and bore into Zeke, as if the sound of the young man's voice had awoken something in the man. He turned towards Zeke. "You are not Max," he stated flatly. Nasedo studied Hera and began to turn away, to move back to his bed, when he stopped and turned back. "No, you are Prince Ezekiel," he exclaimed as a smiled began to wash over his savaged face. "And you," he said as he turned to Hera and looked at her with surprise. "You must be the daughter of Dakura, the Sorceress of Nei!"

Both Zeke and Hera were amazed at this declaration. Zeke knelt in front of the old man and took his hand as Hera watched with unease. Zeke took Nasedo's hand in his. It was limp, white, and cold; the nails yellow and unclipped. "Where are the Royal Four?" Zeke pleaded. "Where are Max and the others from this timeline?"

Nasedo lips pulled back in a grimace that made Zeke and Hera back away. His teeth were black and his gums were red and infected. The breath that issued from his mouth would have killed a Delpac. Nasedo turned to the doctor. "Leave us, I have much to discuss with my young friends," he commanded in surprising strong, and forceful English.

Dr. Shall looked shocked, both from the old man's tone and the clarity of his directive, but also from the young man's strange reference to royalty and timelines. He looked uncertain, but backed to the door, and left them.

"Heal me Prince Ezekiel," he pleaded as he stood on shaky legs. "Khivar did this to me," he explained as he indicated his ravaged body. "Together, we shall defeat the evil Lord Khivar," he declared, as he leaned his head back, eyes closed, and spread his arms, his hands raised in supplication. Nasedo smiled upwards as if he expected to receive the healing touch of God.

Antarvé sat in the king's chair under the electronic dome in the command center. He had programmed the screens to show the night of the planetary alignments; he savored the night of his greatest victory. Khivar was off with Dakura again, and he was alone. He lit a long, thick sigar and drew in a lungful of nicotine.

Khivar will never discover who Hera is, he thought. He is too much in love, too drawn in by Dakura and the imposter. He cannot see what is obvious to everyone else – I guess love really is blind. Khivar should have heeded Nicholas's warnings: Dakura is not to be trusted. Ever since Nicholas retrieved her from the desert floor, I suspected her. She pretended to be a simple girl from the caves, but like the sorceress she so resembled, Dakura had power over all the men in her life – all the royals and high breed men, that is. She laughed in my face when I approached her. Well, she shall see who laughs last.

As always, it is left to me to engineer our future, he mused. If I had left it to Khivar, we would still be begging for our share of power on Antar. Khivar can be a man of action, he noted, but he has no vision, no ability to plan, or to do what must be done to achieve his goals. Even now, with our very lives on the line, he has not tortured the girl to get what I'm sure she, her mother, or the young Prince must know. It is left to me to find them. My life is on the line too. If necessary, I will kill the Four myself.

He took a long swallow of m'alwe, puffed on the sigar, and stared at the sky, recalling that night. The thrill of cornering the Queen in her quarters, taunting her, telling her exactly what he was going to do, and then running her through with his sword. He could see it all in his mind so clearly: see her body shaking with fear, smell her fear, and feel her hot blood on his hands.

His cell phone rang, and he was drawn back to the present. "Yes," he barked in irritation.

"Mr. A," a young, uncertain male voice sprang from the phone. "I did like I was told…"

"Johnny, does Lipton know you're calling?" he barked. "You are to never contact me directly."

"No, I couldn't reach Julie, but I thought you'd want to know… but if you'd prefer to wait…"

"No. Report."

"There's nothing unusual about her back: a little pale, but just soft smooth skin."

"I see," Antarvé replied as he considered. He never thought Rachael was Antarvéian, but it paid to make sure. "Did she say anything about Zeke or the other boys?" he asked.

"Well, Mr. A, I know it's been a long time since you were my age, but when I'm with a girl, the last thing she's going to do is to think, or talk, about other guys," he smirked.

"Yes, I see… First things first. You have made contact and gained her confidence, you have done well."

"Now, next… you must find out if anything unusual has been going on," Antarvé stated. "Any long distance phone calls, sudden meetings, suspicious activities, anything out of the ordinary: anything to indicate they are in communication with or plotting with…"

"Mr. A," he broke in. "I don't want to interrupt, but before you go on… what about the money?" the boy asked.

Yes my Judas, your money, Antarvé thought as he smiled. "Check under the mattress in your van tomorrow, after school. There will be a packet of used 10s and 20s: $5,000 as was promised. And that is just the beginning. Bring me what I really want: find out when their ship is returning and the new red Mustang convertible you so covet will be yours."

© 2007 Roswell the Next Chapter. Unauthorized reproduction prohibited. Any similarities to events, real or imaginary, are strictly coincidental. Roswell The Next Chapter is in no way affiliated with UPN, the WB, Regency Television, 20th Century Fox, or Jason Katims Productions.

The author wishes to give credit to RTFC and the 'Old White Lion' for some ideas, characters, and words used in this episode, as well as:

The Historian, a Novel by Elisabeth Kostrova, Little, Brown, and Company, 2005.

and

.

Chapter 13: Conspiracy

by

NickMax

Edited by Candy Cane, faillow, and sdcheesehead

Original Air Date: March 25, 2007

Agent Burns sat at a small round table in the Sheraton self-service breakfast lounge. He opened a packet of creamer and added it to his coffee and sipped the hot steaming brew. He smiled, grudgingly, surprised with the excellent java. The DHS agent surveyed the sparsely populated room, realizing it was too early for most of the hotel guests.

A good-looking brunette in her late 20s wearing dress pants and a silver-colored blouse and a short stocky man in his 40s wearing an Armani suit came in. The appearance and the gait of the man shouted importance. They took the table below the TV set suspended from the ceiling. Burns noticed that the man glanced his way as he opened the USA Today, and the woman moved to the food counter directly behind him. The man, his bald head gleaming in the sunlight that poured in from the windows stood and turned up the sound on the TV. Burns could see that the large, flat panel TV was tuned to CNN.

A well-known light-skinned black woman was bantering with another woman about the miraculous recovery of two young children mauled by lions at the San Diego zoo. Next the anchorwoman turned to a young Latino man and he summarized the latest entertainment news. The image of a long line at the opening of a new movie and a short video of the appearance of Tom Cruise and his wife at an exclusive hotel in LA was projected on a screen behind her.

Burns watched and sipped his coffee as the news anchor turned back to the camera, smiled, and shifted to the day's top story. The projected image now showed the blastoff site and then zoomed in on the green grass circle that had so excited the world. The picture of the circle and the four squares filled the screen. The camera zoomed in to show the three transformed blocks. The top two and left-most square had transformed into hollow O's filled with green grass except for a dab of black. Thin connecting lines extended from the three converted blocks. Most interestingly, the bottom right block had not changed. It still appeared as a solid black square. The sudden and rapid transformation that had been captured live and broadcast, and rebroadcast, had prompted unending speculation.

Only a few in the military and the DHS knew what that unchanged block really represented: death. The chemical agents embedded in the black markings could, with the proper stimulus, release a toxin so powerful it could render anyone nearby, and potentially, with the hundreds of copy-cat circles spreading across the globe, the entire Earth population dead within seconds. The coffee now tasted sour in his mouth. The sight of the black markings angered Agent Burns as he looked up at the TV.

The anchorwoman was back and conversing with a journalist whose video image was posted on the screen behind her.

"We take you to Roswell, New Mexico, and the center of this amazing, evolving story," she announced. "Chuck Crash, the reporter who broke the story is with us now. Chuck, what's new at 'The Circle' this morning?" she asked.

"Good morning, Veronica," he intoned. "This morning I have Deacon Roberts with me. It was at his church, St Vincent's, where the green circle first appeared."

"Deacon Tim Roberts, good morning," Chuck said as he stared into the camera.

"This is a glorious day, Chuck," Roberts replied as he beamed with excitement.

"I understand you have a new interpretation on the three blocks," Chuck reported.

The cameraman swung his camera on the Deacon as he answered: "Yes, I believed the original message, the circle of green, was a sign from God."

"That was widely reported in the news. Not everyone seemed to agree with your assessment," Chuck stated, "it is not even the official interpretation of your church."

"The Bible is filled with strange and unexplainable events that might very well be evidence of prior extraterrestrial contact," Deacon Roberts reported. "A few examples include Abraham and the flaming torch that appeared in the sky, the pillar of fire that led Moses and the Israelites, and Elijah being carried up to heaven in a chariot of fire. Because some refuse to see the light, does not mean the message was not sent from God," he declared. "The new images from The Circle are even more definitive. I am more convinced than ever, that the Roswell aliens are carrying a message from our savior."

"And what do our alien friends have to say?" he asked as Chuck chuckled into the camera.

The Deacon withdrew a small poster of the green circle and the transformed blocks. He rotated it 90 degrees so that it formed a diamond, with the three converted blocks on the top, and the square black block on the bottom. "If you view the four squares in this manner you can see they form the Trinity," he proudly proclaimed. Pointing to the topmost converted block, he continued: "These blocks represent the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost."

Chuck look surprised with the unexpected conclusion. He struggled to comment, and finally found his voice. "I see, Tim. Very interesting interpretation," he offered. "What does the square block represent?"

"We cannot be sure. Some church leaders are convinced it represents the Devil. And the top blocks represent the overwhelming forces of Good opposing those of Evil. But, I do not agree. I believe this unconverted block is something else," he smiled with hope. "The final block represents…"

Suddenly Burns's cell phone rang and he gladly turned away from the TV. He snapped the tiny phone off its holder on his belt. He checked the readout and it showed 'Pierce.' Burns nodded to himself before he answered. "Yes," he greeted his subordinate in a low guarded growl.

"I'm ready for the morning briefing, sir."

"Okay, I'll be right over," Burns barked as he finished his coffee and stood. The woman and the man had also arisen and moved with him to the exit. As the man reached over and opened the door, Burns noticed the gold chain around the man's neck and the expensive gold pinky ring on his right hand.

The three strode across the parking lot, and the couple walked to a new Audi sedan. As the man began to unlock the door, as if on cue, the woman turned to the man. "Kal, I forgot my purse on the table in the breakfast room. We'll have to go back."

"That's okay, Raeve," he stated as they returned to the hotel. "We're in no hurry."

Agent Burns breathed a sigh of relief as the two moved out of sight. He knew he had become upset with the mention of the four-square story on the TV, but something about the two seemed 'off' to the agent's fine-tuned instincts.

Burns walked across the deserted elevated parking lot to a long, silver motor coach parked along the edge of the lot. He looked both ways, ensuring himself he was alone, and then placed his thumb on a one-inch plastic square. His print being recognized, the cover to a panel retracted exposing a glowing one-foot plastic square. Burns placed his hand on the X-ray screen. After a second the red light switched to green and the locking bolt to the trailer door slid back with a loud click. Burns looked around again and then slipped in.

At the hotel exit, the door creaked open and Kal poked his head out in time to see the security setup. He and Raeve watched as a woman approached the motor coach. She looked right and left and then placed her hand on the screen.

Raeve stood rock still, her mouth open in shock. "That… that is the Empress. But Isabel killed her… she can't be here!"

Kal took her hand and pulled her to him. "That was in the former timeline. Here she again lives to spread her evil trail of death and destruction."

"We have to warn Max. Taur, where is he?" she asked in frustration.

"Max will return when the time is right. Right now our job is to protect the Prince and the Princesses," he reminded her. "And, we must keep a close eye on the Topolian empress. She represents more of a threat to the Four than the imposter king, Khivar."

Burns walked down the trailer to Agent Pierce who was sitting before a bank of monitors. He studied the three-dimensional display and could see many small dots. Most were stationary but a few were moving around. Burns inspected the three letter identifiers that were displayed on the monitor beside each dot. He picked up a stylist and touched it to the dot labeled Max. The image on a different monitor changed showing a visual from a mini camera hidden in Max's bedroom.

"Proceed," Burns ordered crossly.

Agent Pierce pushed his thick, wavy hair back with his right hand before he reported. "The suspects have been under constant observation, sir. We've not seen anything unusual."

"What have they been doing?"

"Just tourist stuff," Pierce said as he checked a clipboard. "Disneyland, Knots Berry Farm, Universal studios, the beach, the zoo, and a hockey game," he reported and turned to Agent Burns. "The girl, Liz, has completed her dancing duties, and will not be on stage anymore. The entire troupe is moving to Phoenix for their next series of performances."

"There they will be less confined by their duties. We must keep an even closer eye on them and their contacts."

"I don't understand your concern, sir," Pierce stated. "We have them under round-the-clock coverage with the DHS satellite. We monitor their RFID signals 24/7. They can't go to the bathroom without us knowing it. So, why do you insist on visual observations, too? We've got a dozen agents assigned in three teams of four, and so far nothing."

"Are you questioning my judgment, Pierce," he asked with irritation edging his voice.

"No, it's just… I don't even know what they are supposed to have done? I would guess Russian mafia, but they seem too young, too lighthearted… they seem just like a bunch of kids enjoying themselves."

"Let me ask you, has anything unusual, out of the ordinary, spectacular and unexplained happened when they were around?"

"Well," Pierce started; embarrassed that he had been caught leaving a slipup by the observation team out of his report. "There was an incident at the San Diego Zoo. A lioness had just delivered a baby cub, and two kids, a boy and a girl, squeezed in between the bars and approached the cub. The male lion attacked and everyone thought they were dead, but some of the tourists jumped in and distracted the big cat, and others pulled the little tikes to safety. The suspects… Max and Liz… were in the vicinity…"

"And let me guess," Burns interrupted. "The kids' clothes were all torn up, and they were terrified but amazingly unharmed." He saw Pierce nod. "And our agents were somehow diverted and didn't see a thing?"

"Yes," Pierce replied, surprised. "That's why I didn't mention it. No one was hurt. The little kids claimed they were saved by an angel," he laughed.

"Our suspects are not smugglers, thieves, or terrorists… they appear to be just friendly, helpful people, but they are not," Burns announced lost in thought. He moved to the window and looked across the parking lot down to the nearby freeway that wound through the downtown area. "These are not your normal criminals, they are much worse."

Pierce stared in confusion as he turned his attention away from the bank of monitors to the Special Agent in Charge. "Worse?"

"Their objective is nothing less than genocide: mass murder on a global scale," he stated as he turned and stared back at Pierce. "They could lead to the elimination of the entire human race."

"Then, why aren't they under arrest?!" Pierce asked in amazement.

Burns laughed in a low mirthless chuckle. "You assume we could arrest them and live to tell about it," he stated as he shook his head.

"No," Lexus's voice rang out. "We must watch for when the moment is right."

Both agents swung around, startled with the stranger's voice as they reached for their side arms. "Lexie!" Burns exclaimed, surprise at the Major's unexpected appearance. Before he could ask how she penetrated their elaborate security system, she continued.

"We must corner them and then order in the bombers for a strategic air strike," Lexus stated in a strong confident voice.

"Bombers… air strike… but…" Pierce sputtered, "There could be thousands of civilian causalities."

Agent Burns looked into Major Topol's eyes and again felt that strange sense of calm that first drew him to her.

"There's always a price to pay for freedom," she concluded, unable to hide a small satisfied smile.

Blanca, dressed in a light cotton spring dress and sandals, finished fixing Cede and the Twins their breakfast and came looking for Brody. She stepped into their bedroom with a big smile. "Honey, breakfast's getting cold. I made you oatmeal and…" but her voice trailed off. Brody was standing before his dresser, his back to her, dumping the contents of his underwear drawer into one of two overflowing suitcases resting on the bed.

"Are you going somewhere," she asked, her voice beginning to tremble. It was obvious that he was not packing for a casual trip.

"I'm sorry, Blanca. It… it just didn't work out," Brody replied as he turned to her. "From the beginnings we knew the odds were against us: a human and… an alien." Brody scrunched his shoulders and raised his hands in a helpless motion, as if their connection was doomed from the beginning. He flipped the suitcase lids into place and zipped them closed. "I'm moving out, back to my house."

"But," Blanca started, "how… we love… I can't believe…" she sputtered.

"Tell me the truth: have you even noticed I've been miserable for weeks? All the tourist action is now down at 'The Circle,' and with this latest transformation, business at the Center is sure to drop even further. I'm spending nights and days designing new exhibits, installing new equipment, and upgrading the displays. But, would you know that? No, because you've not stepped in the UFO Center for… well it seems like forever."

"I've been busy… I've…"

"Don't give me that," he yelled. "Do you think I'm blind? Do you think I don't see the little flirting smiles you give to Cede when you don't think I'm watching? Do you think I haven't caught the sight of you touching and kissing him out by the pool?"

"No, you don't understand. That…"

"No!" Brody screamed as the Twins, Cede, and Gael came running in. "Just tell me one thing," he pleaded as his hand came up and he pointed to Cede. "Tell me you don't love him… and I'll unpack my bags right now."

Blanca looked to Brody; then her gaze swung to Cede whose eyes betrayed his keen interest in her response. "I… I…" she started but didn't know how to continue.

"That's what I thought," he nodded as sadness replaced his anger. "Boys, could you help me with my bags?" he asked as he snapped his briefcase closed.

Brody turned to face them. He moved gently to Blanca who had started to cry. "Please don't cry," he begged as he gave her a quick embrace. "Don't be so hard on yourself. Cede's a good looking guy. He's a catch."

His eyes began to mist as he strode out of the bedroom following the Twins who effortlessly carried his heavy bags down the hallway. "I don't think earthling-alien relationships were ever meant to be. But, remember the good times," Brody requested as he turned and started towards the door. "Goodbye, Blanca. Remember, I will always cherish the time we spent together."

Blanca looked stunned watching the departing image of Brody. She could hear the garage door retract and the rear door shut quietly behind him. Cede wasn't sure what to do. He moved to Blanca and tried to put an arm around her shoulders to offer comfort.

"No!" she threw his hand off. "You're the reason he's leaving. He caught you kissing me," she hissed and pushed him away.

With a blinding flash of white light she shape shifted into the image of Hera. "I'm going to mother's," she declared and ran to the garage.

Gael ran after her. "She's in no shape to drive. I'll take her to Dakura's." Cede followed the two to the three-car garage. There he and the Twins saw Gael pulling out in Blanca's VW Beatle and swinging the car sharply towards town.

The dazed Royal Protector stood by the boys. He turned to them, "Now she's mad I kissed her," he stated in wonder. "Last night she was ready, as you say, to jump my bones. She wanted me to…"

"Too much information!" Alan interrupted, as he jokingly covered his ears.

"Women are all unfaithful," Alex declared. "Never fall in love; it's the only way to avoid a broken heart," Alex declared, hoping his performance was convincing. "First Meta left me and now Rachael's cheating. It's best to just cut them entirely out of your life. That's what I'm doing," he stated, his face now painted with a stern expression. He turned, his shoulders rigid, as he turned to go back into the house.

"We better head off to school," he advised. "I'll be with you in a minute. I've still got to pack my book bag," he called as he ran for his room.

The young woman dressed carefully, she wanted to look perfect. This was her biggest role. If successful, it could mean the difference between the life of her love – or his death. She stared at the phone, hoping it would ring. As the phone rang, she jumped on it. "Yes," she excitedly answered.

She cradled the cordless phone to her ear, smiling broadly as she listened. "No… I can do this," she responded to the caller's plea.

"If I can't go through with it, you'll be the first to know. I'm different now that you've touched me. I'm stronger than you know," she stated as she fell back on the bed. "You said yourself that you're in danger… our future, the future of your entire race, might depend on our actions."

The girl listened, trying to be brave. She knew if he did not believe her, he would insist they abort the mission. "We… I… have to find their ship. I can do it. I can and will do… whatever it takes."

Gael drove along the deserted streets of Roswell. Blanca, in the form of Hera cried softly as she looked forlornly out of the window. Soon he pulled into the gravel driveway outside Dakura's house.

"I'm sorry you had to waste your time driving me over," she apologized. "I never mastered the skill of apperation. I'll get a ride home from school with Zeke, I mean… Cede," she said and then jumped out of the car and ran to 'her' front door. She waved as Gael headed back to Sunset Place.

Dakura met her at the door, and felt Hera throw her arms around her neck. The girl's tears, kept in check while in the car with Gael were now unleashed. "What's wrong?" Dakura pleaded as she helped her 'daughter' in, closed the front door, and moved her to the couch.

"I'm sorry. I'm not Hera, I'm Blanca. I can shift back."

"No, in this house, it's safer if you always maintain the disguise." Dakura wrapped a comforting arm around the protector. "Tell me what's wrong? Is it Hera, is she hurt?"

"No; I'm sorry for upsetting you. Brody and I had a fight. He moved out, and, my emotions are all screwed up shifting back and forth between myself and Hera. My first thought was that I wanted my mother. Do you mind? Right now, you are the closest I have on this planet."

"Not at all sweetheart, so tell me, what has upset you so? Was it Cede?" she asked angrily. "If he's tried to take advantage of you…"

"No, it's nothing like that! But… we've grown close pretending to be Zeke and Hera. We've had to hold hands, sit close together, and stare into each other's eyes with love to maintain the deception. And kiss… we've had to kiss… a lot," she giggled in spite of herself.

"And… that's a problem because?" Dakura asked.

"Brody saw some of our pretending. He got upset and moved out. What am I to do?"

Dakura looked confused. "Just tell him! Tell Brody it was all a game and you love him. You do love him, don't you?"

"I thought so… until… until I got close to Cede… and now..."

"Mixed relationships, Antarian and human are not unheard of," Dakura mused. "But they are difficult. Maybe it would be better if you kept to Antarians and let him find a nice human girl."

"I don't know what to do… mom," she laughed. "What should I do, I…

Suddenly they stopped, hearing a knock at the door. They ran to the windows and saw Khivar standing on the doorstep with bunch of flowers.

"Well," Dakura said, "it's time for school. Go. Take your little sports car. Khivar could become suspicious if he doesn't see you driving it."

"So, you're suggesting I can hide from my fears by driving around in a hundred-thousand dollar car and burying myself in school work?"

"Exactly," Dakura agreed and hugged her Hera-like 'daughter.'

Blanca composed herself and then opened the door and gave Khivar a kiss on the cheek. "Hi dad. Bye dad!" she laughed as she ran to her Mercedes. As she approached, she hit the remote and the top retracted into the trunk. Blanca jumped in and waved goodbye as she pulled out.

Blanca circled the block and pulled up in front of Rachael's house. Hera's best friend sat on the porch, and moved forward and got in the sports car. Blanca backed out and headed off for West Roswell High. She concentrated and was able, at least for a time, to subdue her own internal turmoil. Blanca stopped at the traffic light on Main and Katims and looked over at the Pizza Pan. She pointed out to Rachael a new, red 2007 Mustang convertible displayed on a metal stand. A poster announced a gigantic raffle with the new car as the grand prize. It was to be awarded on the night of the Spring Dance.

Rachael turned, inspected the sign and turned back uninterested. Blanca could tell something was wrong.

"What's up?" Blanca asked, hoping Rachael would open up about Johnny.

"I don't want to talk about it," Rachael replied.

Blanca drove on and soon pulled into the school lot and parked. "Something's wrong. I know I'm not Hera, not your best friend, but I can still listen."

Rachael shook her head no, her eyes closed as if trying to gather strength, and exited. "I can't talk about it," she replied and walked off alone towards the building.

In the school, in a closed alcove beside a long, narrow window, Julie Lipton wrapped her arms around Johnny Ford and kissed him. The two came up for a breath and they stared out the window again. Julie spotted Rachael approaching and pointed. "Antarvé says he's studied them all: Zeke, the Twins, and of course Hera. He's sure they have the information he needs: but, so far, nothing. That's why we're branching out to their friends. You were a natural choice with your history with Hera and Sara. Now he wants you to focus on Rachael."

"I know she's not one of your so-called aliens," Johnny laughed at the absurdity of Julie's claims. "I've known her since kindergarten. She and her whole family are whackos."

"Whackos: what do you mean?"

"Well, her grandmother claimed she was abducted: disappeared back in the '50s. Then her mom up and flew the coop."

"Her mom was abducted too?" Julie asked.

"Who knows? Have you caught a look at Rachael's father? More likely her mom got fed up with Mr. Tempus than any of this alien business," he commented to Julie as he noticed the look in her eyes. Johnny asked: "What? Did you guys take her? Do terrible experiments on…"

Julie interrupted, "No! Not me. I'm no alien. I'm just a girl lookin' to make a few bucks. But, it's a problem. If Antarvé took her grandmother or mother he would have told me."

"So," Johnny asked.

"So, maybe someone did take her… maybe someone else…"

"More little green men," he laughed. "Now, you're saying there are more of them… more than just the Antarvéians?"

"I just don't know," Julie replied. "It's probably nothing… but…"

"But…"

"Well, if her grandmother was abducted, she could have been changed. Meaning her daughter, Rachael's mom, and Rachael, could have a whole host of new capabilities… powers."

"Look, I checked the small of her back. Very nice, but no cavities, no husk… so we're okay."

"That only makes it worse."

"Worse?" he asked starting to get a bad feeling.

"If she had a husk, you could rupture the seal at any time and escape from her clutches." She began to shake her head. "This is too dangerous. I should never have gotten you involved," she whispered.

"She's just a girl," he stated, as he shook his head, not believing he was having this conversation. "You're overreacting."

"Haven't you been listening? Haven't you heard anything I've told you?" she asked. "She could be dangerous."

Johnny smiled and kissed her again, unconcerned.

"Maybe she wasn't abducted. Maybe… she is the one," Julie explained, her voice beginning to tremble.

"The one?" he asked in confusion.

"Antarvé is concerned. He said there is someone else. A woman; somehow he senses she is our real threat. He fears it could be Rachael." Johnny appeared dubious, and she continued. "Look, Hera wouldn't confide in a human. She's got to be another alien here on Earth. Maybe another royal, or a Protector, or a…" she continued becoming more and more upset.

He moved in and tried to kiss her again. Julie pushed him away, becoming frustrated that he was not taking the threat seriously.

"Rachael's no problem; I have her wrapped around my little finger," he smirked.

"Maybe," she sighed and hugged Johnny to her as her body shook. "But don't forget, if she's really the one… with one snap of her little finger, she could stop your heart cold or rip off your head."

Johnny could feel her tremble in his arms, and knew the strange girl with crazy stories about aliens and spaceships, and connections to men with piles of money, truly believed he was in danger. For the first time he began to become concerned.

Black Crow stood at the General Store in Mescalero, speaking into the pay phone, his cell phone now dead and worthless. "Hello," he intoned. "Is this Congressman Cinnati's office?" He waited and then continued as he recognized the voice of the Congressman's executive assistant. "Delores, this is agent Black Crow. We met when you visited the blast-off site; I was part of the BIA contingent," he explained, failing to mention he had been let go from the Bureau of Indian Affairs a month before for being drunk on the job. "Is Cinnati still offering the 100-grand award?"

He listened and a smile began to cover his face. "Well, you get the check ready, because I've got a living breathing human-like alien for you. I'll trade you the money for the Princess of Cano." He nodded his head, and smiled while he listened to Delores as she outlined the details of the transfer meeting.

As Rachael and Blanca entered the school and passed through security, Rachael saw Alex, Alan and Sara plus a crowd of her friends and kids just inside the door.

Alex looked at the students staring at him, and then at Rachael and felt he couldn't go on, couldn't do it.

Everybody's talking
But they don't say a thing
They look at me with sad eyes
But I don't want the sympathy
It's cool you didn't want me
Sometimes you can't go back
But why'd you have to go

And make a mess like that?

Alex tried to maintain a blank expression, as if Rachael was nothing, not even another student or worth a second of his time.

Well I just have to say
Before I let it go

Have you ever been low?
Have you ever had a friend that let you down so?
When the truth came out
Were you the last to know?
Were you left out in the cold?
What you did was low

He dismissed her with his eyes and turned coldly, becoming caught up in the emotions and the stinging images of her and Johnny floating across his mind. He could see Cede, Benny, and Goylzk waiting for him by his homeroom door, and he started to walk down the darkened hallway towards them.

Rachael was shocked by the ice in Alex's eyes, and despite her plan, began to move to him. He turned to her as if saying goodbye.

There's nothing left to say
Except I never thought it'd hurt so
My friends are down the hall waiting
I've gotta go

He shook his head as if in despair.

I walk out of this darkness
With no sense of regret
And I go with a clear conscience
We both know that you can't say that
Here's to show
For all the time I loved you so…

What you did was low.

She took one step forward before Blanca grabbed her shoulder. Alan moved to her side and he held Rachael back.

"Give him some space. He's had a shock," Blanca whispered to Rachael.

"What do you mean a shock?"

"Alan saw you with Johnny," Sara explained with disgust.

"He was connected… by the psychic link between him and his brother…" Blanca explained.

Alan lowered his eyes and shook his head in dismay recalling the scene. He closed his eyes in shame, disgusted with himself that he hadn't been fast enough to block the link. "I saw everything! You… Johnny… at Starbucks… kissing him… pulling away together, heading out for the desert…"

Rachael's eyes sprung open as it hit her. "But… that means… Alex saw everything too!"

"That's why you must give him time to cool down," Blanca advised.

"He was devastated," Alan explained.

"You broke his heart," Sara stated, her eyes showing her disappointment. "But, I know he still loves you. It won't be easy, but to get him back you'll have to give him some time."

Rachael sucked in her breath, closed her eyes, and composed herself before she walked forward stiffly towards her homeroom. At that moment, Johnny strolled into the hallway, moved to Rachael and with some reservation took her hand. As they walked down the hall, hand-in-hand around the mass of kids he bent and kissed her.

The kids were shocked. Sara and Alan looked disillusioned as they moved to their own homerooms.

A pretty brunette freshman poked her head out from room 207 and looked up the hallway. She saw Alan and gave him a quick embarrassed smile, and then ducked back so most of her blushing face was hidden by the homeroom door.

"Hey, I recognize her," Sara said. "That's Sandy; she works at the Starbucks."

Sara also recognized the coy look and who it was directed to. Her boy-trouble 'antenna' was vibrating. The hints from the calls from the west coast that there was a strain in Hera's relationship with Zeke, Rachael and Alex's troubles, and the disturbing news that Blanca and Brody were breaking up had her nerves on edge. And now, she was sure, this little vixen was tempting her Alan.

"You know, you never said why you were at the Starbucks in the first place," Sara stated angrily as she stared back and could see Sandy waiting for Alan by their homeroom door.

Alan turned to explain, but the morning bell rang and Sara moved off in a huff.

Zeke studied Nasedo sitting in a rocker by the window in their Beverly Hills Hilton suite. He recalled his healing of the strange man. Nasedo had lain on his back and Zeke had kneeled and placed his hands over the shapeshifter. Almost instantly, the body of the old man had alternatively glowed yellow and then returned to normal, the cycle repeating every few seconds. With each cycle the damage seemed to peel back like an onion revealing Nasedo in a different form: first a short red-skinned Mesaliko brave in traditional native garb, then a hospital intern in green, a Mexican farmhand in jeans, a bulky, bearded man with a stocking cap carrying a stuffed backpack, and finally a stocky black man in a dark suit.

Suddenly there was a long white glow. When it faded, they saw a tall, thin, late-30s man with a nearly bald, triangular-shaped head with a prominent double chin lying on the floor. Nasedo was totally naked and Hera turned away as Zeke pulled a sheet off the bed and covered him. Zeke searched the room's lockers, and eventually found shoes, underwear, socks, a pair of tan slacks and a long-sleeve cotton sport shirt.

Zeke explained the need for their disguise and their temporary base at the Beverly Hills Hilton as Nasedo dressed. At Nasedo's insistence, they took what the shapeshifter purported was his car, a black, four-door Mercedes with heavily tinted windows, and Zeke drove them back to the hotel.

Now Nasedo was ensconced in the easy chair, basking in the sunlight pouring in through the suite's open windows. He seemed happy and content to sit alone and rock. Hera walked to Zeke's side and wrapped her arm around his waist as they surveyed their new guest.

"Something's wrong," Zeke whispered, concern etching his features.

"You think it was wrong to heal him?" she asked in a low voice.

"I've thought about this for days. How did he know I am the Prince, and how did he recognize you as Dakura's daughter? The Max in this timeline did not have a son."

"And he referred to mom as the Sorceress of Nei; what was that about?!" Hera asked.

"And there's more. I can't heal alone," Zeke confided. "I've never done it on my own. I only amplified… focused… father's and the Twin's powers."

"You're older now; maybe it was a power that has matured as you aged."

"Yes, I've thought of that, and you may be right. But Nasedo's transformation from a dazed old man to a fully restored alien Protector seemed too fast and too complete."

"What are you saying?"

"He is a shapeshifter. He could have shifted back to a healthy body anytime he wanted. This may all have been an elaborate ruse."

Hera considered Nasedo. In the former timeline, the shapeshifter had been long gone, murdered by the Skins before her life became entwined with Zeke's. She knew nothing of the sometimes protector except what she had heard from the others. Hera recalled that the Nasedo of the original timeline had plotted with Tess to betray Max and the others. "But why?" she asked.

"To fool us. I think…"

Nasedo turned their way and interrupted. "Zeke, I need to buy some new clothes."

Zeke turned to the shapeshifter surprised. "Why not just shift into something. You can select anything you want?"

"I'd love too," Nasedo replied with a pained smile. "But that is part of what Khivar stole from me: my powers and my ability to shift. They may return, but for now I am like a helpless human. It is both scary, to be without any powers, and liberating, not having to sacrifice my needs to protect one of the selfish Royals." Nasedo stood and walked to the door, looking back expectantly.

"Oh… sure," Zeke replied as he grabbed the keys, his hat and sunglasses and then turned to Hera. "Do you want to go come along?"

"No, you boys go on," she said. "I haven't had any alone time in what seems like ages. I'm going to soak in the hot tub and order in room service."

Hera stood at the balcony rail and looked down on the hotel grounds. She watched until she saw the black Mercedes pull out and turn toward Rodeo Drive. She walked back to the hot tub, flipped off her sandals and slipped in, still wearing her gray running shorts and short cotton top. The nearly-scalding temperature of the steaming water caused her to suck in her breath. She stepped down, one foot at a time letting the soothing heat melt away her tensions. Finally she reached the bottom step and dropped down so her entire body was immersed. Hera came to the surface, pulled her wet hair back behind her and rested her head on a towel as her body floated.

Soon her mind began to drift. She was back on Antar on the night of the planetary alignment. She was with her mother, who was reliving her sixty year-old memories of that fateful evening. The two women surveyed the palace grounds and the dead and dying surrounding them. Suddenly Dakura swung her head to the side, and Hera's eyes followed her mother's seeing the image of a young woman who approached.

Hera recalled that night, and she remembered thinking the woman was Liz Evans, but she realized it was Priestess Amíle when she saw the distinctive white streak in the center of her long dark hair and piercing blue eyes.

Amíle moved close and hugged her old friend. She turned to Hera and took Hera's hand to inspect her. "So this is our Heraetta – all grown up," she smiled.

Amíle looked to Dakura and nodded her approval. "She is beautiful like her mother, and she has her father's eyes."

Dakura looked uncomfortable with the reference, and immediately changed the subject. "What… what are you doing here?" Dakura asked.

"You did not see Khivar's treachery that night, but I did. He slew my true love, the young King Zan himself."

"No! Not father!" Hera had declared that night.

She opened her eyes as she felt the hot water buoying her body. Even now she found it difficult to accept that the sweet and affectionate man who she had believed was her father had anything to do with Zan's death.

She closed her eyes and was back on Antar.

"Your father?" Amíle looked startled and turned from Hera to Dakura with a questioning stare. "She does not know?" Amíle whispered.

If I had only listened, Hera thought as she floated in the hot tub, I would have known then that Khivar was not my father. Hera closed her eyes and searched for more clues she had missed before.

The Priestess drew Hera close. She whispered, "You must promise me to keep my son Ezekiel safe. His destiny is to return to the stars and rejoin Maximillian. I have seen his future…"

"The prophecy!" Hera stated, as her mind flashed to her exchange with Ultra. She looked at Amíle and asked, "The prophecy that Zan would wed the daughters of Larek and rule the Five Planets?"

"The details are not clear," Amíle explained. "They are not yet set. But, I can tell you the safety and happiness of the Taurian worlds rest on his shoulders." She hugged Hera tightly and then released her. "Promise me you'll help him fulfill his destiny."

The final bell at West Roswell rang releasing the kids. Rachael collected her World History book and papers and placed them in her book bag. She closed her eyes gathering her strength, and then opened them to see Johnny standing with his shoulder resting cockily at the door. She rose from her chair in the nearly deserted classroom and walked to him.

"You ready, baby," he asked with a smile. She nodded and plastered on a smile. He moved close to kiss her, but she turned away.

"Not in school," she warned as she held him off. Johnny smiled as he took her hand. Together, they walked down the hallway in front of the other kids who whispered and pointed. The new couple continued out the door into the parking lot and walked to his black minivan.

Alex tried not to look, but his eyes were glued to their exit.

"She'll come to her senses," Alan advised.

"She'd be crazy to go with that low life when she could have you," Sara commented.

As Sara tried to comfort Alex she saw Sandy walk by. The spunky freshman turned as she passed, shook her head in a tempting manner, and gave Alan a big smile. Sara was immediately irritated and began to stomp off. But after only three steps, she retreated and snared Alan's arm. She gave Sandy a possessive 'he's mine' glare, and then pulled Alan across the student lot to her Saturn.

As they reached Sara's car, Alan stopped and pulled her to him. "I was in the Starbucks because I saw the van that cut us off in the parking lot. I went to give the jerk a piece of my mind when I saw Rachael. I was shocked and disappointed just like you, but doubly distressed because I knew I acted too slowly; I knew that Alex would see and feel everything I sensed," he explained.

Sara looked away still upset. "Sandy was there," he explained. "She saw I was hurting and was kind," he stated. But his words seemed to only upset Sara more. She began to bristle and was ready to lash out with a biting reply when he stopped her with a kiss.

"She is just a girl in my class. She means nothing to me. What you and I have is special. I would never do anything to jeopardize that," he told her and then wrapped her in his strong arms. "I'm disappointed that you have so little faith in our love… that you would suspect me without cause," he challenged her. Before he could say more, she wrapped her arms around his neck, kissed him hard, and then sighed with relief.

Ultra drove the truck slowly up the rutted dirt road leading to the Mesaliko Reservation. As she passed, two old, sun-wrinkled braves looked at the truck and the thin stream of transmission fluid that dripped from under the old Chevy half-ton pickup.

Sam rolled down the window and stuck his head out. He waved to his old friends and directed Ultra up a path and told her to stop. "We must walk from here, the path is too steep," he told her. As she opened her door Sam and Blue ran up the trail to a faded stone hut positioned precariously on the side of the hill under the broad branches of an old cottonwood tree.

Ultra followed and as she reached the peak of the path, she saw Sam and Blue speaking to an short middle-aged woman dressed in a long dark dress, her coal-black hair braided and pulled back. As Ultra approached, Blue ran to her, grabbed her hand with a big smile and pulled her to the woman.

"This is Grandma Gahaé," Blue introduced his grandmother. And this is…" he turned to Ultra, and struggled not knowing exactly how to describe her. "She is… this is… Princess Ultra. She is a great cook, smart, funny, and beautiful," he gushed. "She took care of us over the winter."

Ultra extended a hand to the woman and they shook. "It a pleasure to meet you Mrs. Gahaé," Ultra said. "We were looking for the boys' mother."

"No one has seen Running Spring for months. She showed up one night very upset. Stayed a couple of days and then took off with a bunch of city Indians."

"Maybe River Dog will know where she went, or when she will return," Ultra offered.

"Yeah, great grandpa should know," Sam exclaimed.

"No, father left with the new moon," Gahaé advise. "He has gone high into the mountains and will not return for many days. He was upset, with the… aliens," she paused and looked up into the sky.

"Because the Starship rose from your mountains?" Ultra asked.

"No, that did not bother him," Gahaé informed her. "He became upset only when he learned of the circle and the four squares. He said it was a sign, a message from the 'Evil One,' " she confided. "Since that day, River Dog has spoken only of disaster and the end of the world. He has gone to offer prayers to Yei, Changing Woman, and the rest of our Spirit World. Only they can save the Dinatah now."

"How about Uncle Eddie?" Blue asked.

"Yes, he might know," Sam agreed. Blue grabbed Ultra's hand and they followed Sam as he started down the trail.

Ultra turned back to the woman to say goodbye, but saw that Gahaé shook her head sadly from side to side. "Eddie has lost his way," she warned. "My son's heart has been stolen," she announced with a disgusted glare, "by a woman from beyond our mountains… she is not Mesaliko."

Ultra followed the boys as they ran along the dirt path up to a rusted one-bedroom trailer sitting on a ledge eroded from the side of the hill. Sam reached the trailer and ran up the three wooden steps to a small porch and banged on the trailer door. Soon Blue and Ultra joined him and stepped up too. Sam stared in through the screen door and stepped back a foot as a stranger approached.

Meta walked forward and stared out. She did not immediately recognize the two boys, but let out a squeal of joy when she saw Ultra standing behind them. "Ultra!" she yelled as she swung the door open and wrapped her arms around her friend. "You have returned for me!" she exclaimed. "I knew it! I knew you wouldn't leave me," she cried.

Ultra wrapped her arms around her friend and held Meta in a long embrace. Blue looked up and saw the tears of joy running from Ultra's eyes and wrapped his arms around the girls too. Sam was not sure what to do, but at a nod from Blue Owl's head, he moved forward and also half hugged the group.

"I was away," Ultra explained, "But, I never left."

"What?!" Meta exclaimed.

"I was kidnapped and my memory disrupted. I learned only yesterday of my true identity."

"But," Meta began, "I saw the ship rise and depart. If you did not leave… then maybe… then maybe the Twins didn't leave me." She started to cry again and hugged Ultra to her.

"No, Zeke and Twins did not come that night. They are, hopefully, still in Roswell," Ultra explained. "Come with me, we must find them."

"Wait. I have to say goodbye to someone," Meta requested. She stepped back into the trailer and with a wave of her hand changed her sandals and raw Indian dress into boots, jeans, and a dark purple blouse that complimented her ice blue eyes. Meta returned in seconds and stepped out. She looked at the two boys who, having witnessed yet another amazing alien transformation stood staring in disbelief. She stooped and then looked them in the eyes. "I'm Meta," she said with a smile. "You must be Silver Eagle and Blue Owl; your uncle has told me all about you." She gathered the two surprised boys to her, hugged them, and then kissed the top of their heads. She smiled up at Ultra who looked astonished with the shows of warmth her friend had offered to the two nearly unknown earthlings. Meta gave each boy another quick hug and ruffled their hair with affection.

"Did you marry Uncle Eddie?" Sam asked in surprise.

"Are, you… like our aunt, now?" Blue asked and then wrapped his arm around Meta.

"No," Meta laughed. "Eddie and I are just… we're…" she struggled, not knowing exactly what she had found with the young shaman. "We're friends," she concluded, and then hopped off the porch and ran up the trail to the mountains above.

Ultra headed down the trail. As she reached her truck she bent and picked Blue Owl up and hugged him for a long time and kissed his cheek. "I was a spoiled, selfish brat when I came to you. You accepted me and taught me how to survive on my own… and how to truly love. I will miss you more than you can ever know." She kissed him again, hugged him tight, and then put the boy down.

She slipped one of the gold rings off her finger and handed it to Blue Owl. "When you miss me, or Meta, just rub this ring," she instructed. Then she placed a hand along his temple and sent a mental jolt into the boy. His eyes popped open and he nodded, staring at the ring, and then turned away trying to conceal his tears. He ran his thumb along the scratched red-glass surface and looked close in amazement.

Ultra next looked at Sam, and offered the older boy her hand in farewell. Sam hesitated, and then moved forward to wrap his arms around her. Hiding his head, and his tear-stained eyes, in her side, he said, "We love you 'mom.' Don't go." Blue Owl slid the ring onto his thumb and wrapped his arms around her too, willing her not to leave.

Ultra could feel the tremble in the boys' bodies as they held her tight. She too began to cry, moved by the moment, and because Sam had never fully accepted her before.

Meta came down the trail to the truck holding Eddie's hand. She saw the boys hugging her friend farewell, and turned and hugged the young shaman goodbye. The look in her eyes showed that she was moved too. Her eyes darted to the boys and then to Ultra, silently asking if this was the right move, that maybe they had already found what they had been searching for. Meta pulled back and looked up into Eddie's dark eyes, unsure if she should stay or go.

He hugged her and then gently released her so he could look down into her eyes. "Danger is at hand. It is not your destiny to stay with me and do nothing to protect your friends," Eddie declared to Meta and Ultra. Then he looked to the boys. "We were granted a moment with you, and we shall all cherish that time," he added as he hugged Meta tight, and then disengaged and looked at the boys. They both gave Meta hugs and then took Eddie's outstretched hands and tried to look brave. "Go. Grandfather believes the end is near. You must defeat the Evil One and prevent her destruction of our planet… and yours."

Zeke and Nasedo parked the black Mercedes in the self-service section of the Hilton parking garage and walked to the elevator. Nasedo carried two Kohl's department store bags and they rode up alone and exited on the penthouse floor.

Zeke opened the door with his passkey and they stepped inside. Hera came in from the balcony carrying the latest People magazine. "Hi! Did you find everything you needed?" she asked as she walked to Zeke.

"Yes," Nasedo replied. "The Prince may someday become a great leader, but he is a poor navigator. Best leave that to the Twins," he said.

Immediately Zeke's gaze swung to Hera. The look in her eyes showed that she had also picked up Nasedo's words: how did he know about the Twins' extraordinary navigation abilities? Neither had discussed the boys or their unique talents.

"We started on Rodeo Drive, but nothing seemed suitable. We eventually got on the freeway and immediately became lost. I had to tell him to get off or we'd be half way to Mexico," he observed with a wry smile. "We finally found a mall in Redondo Beach." Nasedo explained as he started off towards the suite's second bedroom when Zeke called him back.

"Nasedo, I waited to ask you what happened until we returned. Tell Hera and me how it happened. Why did Khivar attack you? How did he steal away your powers?"

Nasedo looked pained. It was clear he didn't want to talk about.

"What happened to the others?" Hera asked. "Where are the Royal Four?"

"Khivar knew all about the cloning operation and the plan to send the essence of the Royal Four back to Earth," Nasedo stated. "He contacted me before the operation. I was to protect my four, the True Four, and keep him informed. But, the ship crashed and I was captured, held in captivity for a year. When I escaped, I returned to the pod chamber, but all the hybrids were gone: all but the one carrying the essence of the Queen," he explained.

"I looked in every town for 100 miles in every direction; but I uncovered no clues. Then, I obtained information from one of the ship's crew that the other three had been taken and hidden away in the Far East. I took the little girl, Tess, and we followed the trail. I would probably never have found them, but the General was searching for me as hard as I was searching for him. Michael sent out a signal, and our agents intercepted it. Tess and I returned to Roswell and made contact. The Four were reunited, and they and their hybrid friends were anxious to return to the Five Planets. Soon we secured the West Coast Granolith for the passage home," Nasedo explained, as he thought quickly how to weave the details to paint him in the most positive light.

"That doesn't explain Khivar's actions," Hera argued.

"True. Khivar wanted the heir, the child who would carry the essence of King Zan and Queen Avan'ya. When he learned that Max had not mated with Tess he became incensed and lashed out leaving me crippled and nearly blind. He did not kill me, preferring that I suffer as a powerless human-like cripple for failing him. I was devastated being sentenced to live out the rest of my life on this worthless rock while the others returned to Antar."

"That was terrible, but he was the king," Nasedo stated. "It was my duty to accept his punishment for my shortcomings," he explained. "But, I will never forgive the king for what he did next. I will do everything in my power to exact revenge… for him killing my Tessy."

"He killed Tess?!" Zeke exclaimed as he sunk down on the couch.

"Yes, he forced the Granolith to crash. All were killed, including my little girl."

Hera moved to Zeke's side to comfort him, "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Nasedo replied. "I gave her a ring just like mine," he noted as he raised his hand to expose a silver ring with a black onyx inlay. "She wore it at all time. It was our link. If she ever needed me, she just had to rub it and I would hear her call and come. Moments after the blast off, my ring stopped vibrating… and it has never shown any activity since. If she was alive, on Earth or on Antar, I would know it."

"Then, the Max of this timeline is dead too?" Zeke asked.

"The Granolith crashed, and no one could survive the resultant explosion," the shapeshifter explained.

"But, maybe…" Zeke started.

"The Granoliths were our most precious artifacts," Nasedo noted. "The two units were captured as the spoils of a war with a distant race, centuries ago. It was believed that he who possessed the Granolith had command of nearly magical powers. Its loss to our enemies would be catastrophic. So, our engineers modified the transport systems so they would self-destruct if crashed or if captured by a foreign race. I knew their loss… their theft by Zan, to transport the Four back from Earth when his time had come, would be devastating."

Clearly the retelling of his story, and his loss had taken a toll on the shapeshifter. Nasedo stood stiffly, collected his bags, and walked to his bedroom. He entered, and Zeke and Hera heard the door close with a soft click. Zeke took Hera in his arms and held her, mourning the loss of the Royals, and the only remaining means to reverse the timeline and defeat Khivar.

Rachael stared up into the brilliant blue sky. The sun was sinking into the west and would soon drop behind the mountains surrounding the entrance to the wormhole controls. But, for now the hot sun beat down mercilessly. She loosened another button on her blouse as she wiped the sweat from her brow. She smiled and lowered herself to the blanket and waited.

Her shirtless boyfriend returned from the cave with a broad smile. He turned so she would not see as he placed a small blue orb into his backpack, and then bent down to Rachael and kissed her passionately.

"I love you," she whispered as she kissed him again and then rolled on her back with a big smile.

The boy leaned over her, smiled down, and kisses her neck. Rachael giggled as she ran her hand through his short spiky blonde hair. "I love you too, Rachael."

"When I'm with you, I can forget everything else," Rachael noted. "I can forget about school, forget the alien conspiracy, and forget about Johnny."

Alex moved a strand of her red curly hair from her eyes and stares down at her pale, almost white skin and pale-blue eyes. He smiled as he stared into her beautiful face and ran his hand along her velvety-smooth skin and breathed in her perfume that smelled pleasantly of lilacs. Alex noted that her lips, when he kissed her were soft, warm, and inviting.

"Alex, I told you I was strong, but I don't know if I can keep this up. Kissing Johnny tears me apart. Every time I kiss him I think of you.

Before he could answer she hurried on. "Why can't you show me your vision?" Rachael asked. "Why can't I see what will happen in the future? If I knew how we defeated Khivar, and why we can't tell the others, it would be easier for me to play my role," she explained. "I don't know how much longer I can keep it up. If he wasn't so conceited, he'd see the revulsion in my eyes when he touches me."

"You do not need to pretend any longer. I want you to break up with Johnny. Make it spectacular."

"What, like I should slap him in the quad, and tell everyone he's a dork?" she asked with a laugh. "Wait," she stopped and turned to Alex. "What about finding out where Khivar's ship is located?"

"Johnny's just a fool that's been sucked into their plot. He's clueless. I've watched, every time he meets with you he runs back and reports to Julie."

"Julie Lipton? Is she the one working for Khivar?

"Yes, I think so," Alex replied.

"So, what are we going to do about her?"

"We're not going to do anything. It's time for me to go into action. It's time for me to find out what she knows."

Antarvé pulled the long stretch limousine around the corner and into Dakura's gravel driveway. He popped out from behind the wheel and opened the door for Khivar. He stepped back and the king helped Dakura out. The two walked hand-in-hand up the walkway around the now-blooming jacaranda bush. The king picked one of the soft purple-colored flowers and placed it behind Dakura's right ear. Then he moved in for a kiss. But she turned her head as if not seeing the advance and moved up to the porch and opened the door.

Khivar stood at the entranceway. "Well, I should get going," he stated.

"No, come in for a nightcap," she insisted. "I've got a flask of m'alwe chilling in the 'frig.' "

He smiled and moved in after her. Khivar closed the door and took her in his arms. Dakura could not put it off, and let him kiss her. He ran his hand seductively up from her waist towards her breasts. She could not stand that, and slipped out of his embrace.

"Hera, we're home," she called out in poorly hidden desperation.

"Mom! I'm in the bedroom," she called out in pain.

Dakura, followed closely by Khivar, ran into the bedroom. Hera lay on her stomach wearing only a pair of white swimsuit bottoms. A wet towel covered her back and shoulders. The exposed flesh along her legs, back and arms glowed red from severe sunburn.

"What did you do?!" Dakura asked as she moved to her daughter's side.

"I started working on my tan, and I guess I overdid it. The husk is normally fine once it's been conditioned to the Sun's strong spring rays, but I guess I soaked up too much sun too fast."

Dakura withdrew the warm towel and moved to the small bathroom to soak it in cool water. She noticed that Blanca had added a thin line of white skin simulating the coverage of a bikini top.

Khivar sat down on the side of the bed. "I've read about this in the husk book, but this is the first time I've actually seen a sunburn," he observed. "Is it very painful?" he asked sympathetically.

"I'll be fine," she assured him. "My skin just feels real tight, and it stings."

"We'll need to put some Aloe Vera lotion on it right away," Dakura advised as she returned.

"I know. It's in the refrigerator. But, it hurts to move. Dad, would you get it and put some on my back? It's the green bottle on the right side when you open the refrigerator door."

Khivar smiled; he had never been called into action for any fatherly duties before. He collected the bottle and poured some of the green liquid onto Blanca's back. She instinctively jerked up an inch off the bed when the cold fluid hit her enflamed skin. "You okay?" he asked.

"Yes, fine. It's just cold. Try to apply it very lightly. Don't rub: just glide it across the skin."

Khivar gently, kindly applied the fluid as a thin film across her shoulders, down her back to the small area just above her shorts. As his finger spread the aloe extract, he could make out the edges of the flap hiding the cavity where the husk was joined to her underlying body. It was not immediately visible, but as he spread the soothing ointment, he could make out the outline of the square. Khivar smiled with confirmation. She was Antarvéian, he thought. She was his daughter!

"Thanks Dad," Blanca replied as she turned and smiled up a Khivar. The look of love coming from his eyes made her feel ashamed of the deception she and Dakura had so carefully planned. Blanca had just wanted to let him discover the husk-cavity flap; she had not been prepared for the empathy and the love that flowed from the king's gentle touch and kind eyes.

Dakura moved to the bedside and bent to her knees before placing another cool, wet towel across Blanca's red shoulders and back.

"Thanks mom. That feels a lot better," Blanca replied.

Khivar and Dakura stood and looked down at their 'daughter.' He looked around the small room; it was the first time he had ever been in Hera's bedroom. Khivar observed the photos on the wall and moved up close to inspect them better. First he studied one of Hera and her mom at a fair. He could see that Hera was young, and one of her baby teeth was missing. The king smiled fondly and noticed another photo of his daughter and one of her friends standing in front of school; the girls looked very young and nothing like the striking young women they would grow into. He recognized the other girl as he inspected another photo; it showed Rachael and she was again with Hera; both girls were wearing similar outfits, urging on the crowd at a sporting event. Something about the photos rang a bell: something wasn't right.

Suddenly it dawned on him. Husks don't change; they don't evolve with time. An individual was cast permanently in the same never-changing form. He turned with alarm as the implications sank in. But before he could speak, before he could ask how this was possible, before he could be assured that his suspicious were unfounded, his cell phone rang. He pulled it out and looked at the small screen that indicated 'NASEDO.' He recognized the name, but was surprised with the call. "Hello," Khivar spoke softly into the receiver.

"Sire, I have great news," Prius replied. "It worked. They came just like you predicted."

Khivar turned and stepped discretely out of the bedroom. He turned away from Hera and Dakura as he whispered into the phone, "The Four? You have located the Royal Four?" he asked the shapeshifter known on Earth as Nasedo.

"No," Prius clarified. "It's Zeke and Hera. They found me a few days ago. I wasn't expecting them yet. You said you'd inform me before they came out to the West Coast," he said. "I followed your plan. They ate up the story about how your attack left me crippled and helpless," Prius explained. He felt no qualms informing on the teens. His loyalty had been reserved only for the child Queen – and she had been dead for years. He owed nothing to the young Prince or his sorceress girlfriend.

Khivar swung his gaze to the girl on the bed. "Zeke and Hera are there, in California? Now? With you?"

"Yes, Sire. They…"

"That's not possible," Khivar interrupted as he stepped into the bedroom, took a peak at his 'daughter' on her bed, and then moved back to the hallway. "I'm with her right now," he whispered.

"I don't know who you're with, but it's not Dakura's daughter Heraetta," Prius added.

"How can you be sure?" he asked and again turned away. "Maybe it's a shapeshifter pretending to be Hera."

"It takes one to know one, as they say on Earth. I can spot another shifter a mile away. Zeke and Hera told me who they are, and I'm convinced they're legitimate. The being with you that pretends to be Hera must be a fake."

"But…" the king moaned.

"From her smell, I'd say we have more than one fake. Hera has Canoian blood running through her veins."

The blood feeding the husk covering the king's face drained away leaving a pale white mask. He staggered back devastated as all his hopes for an heir were dashed in an instant. But, the king recovered quickly as an overwhelming feeling of anger and the sudden need for immediate revenge pushed aside his pain and his sense of loss.

"I knew that!" Khivar replied angrily in hoarse strained voice. "I was just testing you," he growled. "I knew she was an imposter," he lied. "I will take care of her," he announced in a deadly calm voice.

"In the meantime, I want you, Zeke and Hera back here," the king commanded.

"Of course, Sire. And about my powers… I've done everything you requested. I've lived as a helpless human ever since I followed your orders and sent the Granolith to its grave. I've waited patiently in case they somehow survived. You will restore my powers now that they have been fooled, right?"

Khivar ignored Prius's plea and continued on. "I sense the Four are alive… and close and here in America. Keep broadcasting your signal. The child-queen will detect the vibrations in her ring sooner or later, and follow it into our trap. We need to finish this once and for all and return home."

© 2007 Roswell the Next Chapter. Unauthorized reproduction prohibited. Any similarities to events, real or imaginary, are strictly coincidental. Roswell The Next Chapter is in no way affiliated with UPN, the WB, Regency Television, 20th Century Fox, or Jason Katims Productions.

The author wishes to give credit to RTFC for some ideas, characters, and words used in this episode, as well as:

.

.

and

.

23