Remnants
By Didi
Disclaimer: Every time I have to write this, I have this insane urge to laugh like a maniac. Who in their right minds would ever think that I would, or even could, own Roswell?
Timeline: Roswell redone, my way. Take it back to the beginning and turn just about everything upside down and inside out. For background... read the preceding chapters first, or at least read the three chapters before this to make some sense of this next part. And this chapter will take place after the shooting.
Ratings: R for restricted.
Author's Note: I don't suppose anyone knows if Roswell will ever come around to be on DVD or not. I can't remember the series too well. And writing the story has become somewhat a task when I've got to go and find out information all the time. Rather watch the series over again to refresh my memories.
Summary: Kyle stumbles onto something he shouldn't. Valenti experiences a slight problem. Liz has a little conversation with the new teacher.
*Thoughts* "Spoken"
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Chapter 26 – New Players
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"Brody!" Tess called as she struggled to get her book into her backpack. The daffodil yellow backpack was becoming so worn that even repairs wasn't doing any good anymore. She'll have to pour in a little money to get another one soon. *Damn it, I was so hoping to buy nice presents this year for Mom and Maria.* Shaking her head, "Brody!" she called again.
There was a crash and several non-comprehensive curses from the back. And since this was a normal occurrence, Tess paid little attention to it.
"BRODY!!!" she hollered after several more moments of silence.
"Yes? Did you call?" Brody asked as he stumbled and trailed wires, cables and other tangle-able objections around him. He resembled a science experiment gone awry yet there was something very endearing about the way he was looking wide eyed at her inquisitively… then promptly tripped over more cables attached to his simulator suit. "Darn that machine."
"Simulator?" she asked, picking up several pens she knew wasn't hers.
"VR," came the cheerful reply. "I think I've been able to recreate the last time those blasted aliens took me."
Tess held her tongue on what she thought of these theories of Brody's to explain the unaccounted times that the man claims. Personally, she thought they were blackouts that Brody was unwilling to admit to. But she did she know. "So how would you know if the VR is recreating things accurately if you can't remember what happened? Who's going to verify it?"
Brody nodded his head, delighted that she understood. "Oh don't you worry. I'll know it when I see it. It's like having a fuzzy memory of something. When it all comes together, it will be as clear as day. Positive."
Nodding her head, "Okay, as long as you're sure. I've gotta go early today. Test tomorrow. Try not to blow anything up while I'm away."
"Will do," he replied with a happy grin as he looked around the office. "Hey, you got the Galileo charts done."
"The pictures are logged by the star maps, western hemisphere to the east. Suggestion?"
"Always."
"I like scan and input the pictures into one big project-able sky view." She picked up a few of the pictures still on the worktable that she hadn't been able to identify. Max would know which ones they are. The guy was even better at star reorganization that she was, if that came be believed. "Can you imagine it? Three hundred and sixty degree angle view of the stars from the Galileo project? Think of all the advertisements we could do on it? We could maybe even work out something with the school board about having the schools take field trips here to learn about astronomy."
"But this is an alien exhibits," he replied staring at her owlishly.
"Yes but we do a lot of stuff about stars and astronomy and…" she was still getting that blank look. "Tell me something, Brody. We don't usually get many people around here, only the tourists and some whack jobs every now and then. How is this business financed?"
He looked startled by her concerns. "Tess, don't worry. You'll get paid at the end of the week? Are things difficult at home right now?"
Sometimes talking to Brody was like falling into the rabbit hole. "No, everything is fine. And I'm not worried about the paycheck, Brody. I know you won't stiff me. I'm just worried about how this place will continue to exist."
"Oh that," he laughed and waved her concerns away. "I make plenty on the computer market to offset this place. Plus I like it here."
"You're a…"
"Computer whiz is what they like to call guys like me," he shrugged and made a face. "Hated being called that."
Tess nodded to herself. "No calling Brody computer anything. Got it."
He laughed, an innocent child like sound that was a joy to behold. "You're such an adorable child. There should be more like you around."
"Thank you," she replied cheerfully. "I think there should be more eccentric guys like you around too. Want anything done before I have to leave?"
"No, go, enjoy your studies."
"That's supposed to be a friendly send-off? Enjoy my studies?"
"I always enjoyed my studies," he informed her rather bewildered by her teasing.
Giggling because he was one of the few wonderful things she was enjoying in this strange little town. "Yes, but you are hardly what they call an average person. Bet you even liked school when you were my age."
"Don't make me sound so ancient," he said with a smile. "And yes, I did enjoy school. Only time I was allowed out of the confines of my home. My mother was a rather overly protective parent. She didn't like her have her little chicks wonder off too far from her when no necessary."
"Hum… sounds just like my mother," Tess mused. "I'll see you in two days."
"Aren't you coming tomorrow?"
"No, it's Max's shift tomorrow."
Brody frowned thoughtfully. "You and Max haven't been crossing paths much lately, have you?"
Tess paused. "No. Not much. I see him occasionally in school and that's about it."
"Hum…" he scratched his head, wondering what's going on between his two assistants. It was obviously that Max held an attraction for Tess; heck the boy asks about her every time he comes in here. Where Tess stands was another matter; but then again she seems to be a rather private person. Brody have never seen two people work so well together yet be so… well; he was a romantic at heart. "I was hoping that if Max agrees, you and him can work on this projection thing you are talking about. Sounds like a lovely idea."
"Really?" Delighted that he liked her idea and trying to quash the sudden leap of her heart at the thought of see Max more. *Friends. We are friends… kind of.* Latching on to the business end of the conversation, "You really like the idea?"
"Why not?" he asked cheerfully, enjoying the absolute brilliance of her eyes as she jumped for joy. She really was such a pretty thing.
"Can we afford it?"
"Sure," waving the finances away in his own mind. "I just rented the database you and Max completed last week on the solar flares to a major research office. Plenty of money coming in."
Tess stared. "Oh, so that's how this place is run."
"Yes," he answered with a frown. "Didn't I tell you that?"
She stared at him and reframed from answering. "Well, if you can get Max to agree, just call me tomorrow and I can be here. I could use the extra money."
"Sounds like a plan then."
"See you tomorrow… maybe," then skipped out feeling considerably cheered. Shielding her eyes from the blinding sun, Tess paused to enjoy the warmth of the outdoors.
Hot wind in her face, she began a slow tread toward home. She hoped that Maria would bring back something from the diner instead of having her cook, which isn't a problem since it was so quick, but she didn't really have the energy to do so today. Her body may be healed but her spirits still need some time to reconsider its place in life. The amount of tension and pressure in the last week was enough to drive her up the wall. And that's just the part concerning the possibilities of Liz and Alex blabbing their mouth off. Added to that was Isabel's icy looks, Michael's pitying ones and Max's complete avoidance of her. It was just enough to send a normal person over the edge. *Of course, no one can call me normal.*
Absentmindedly, she rubbed her side. The silvery handprint, after two weeks, was finally beginning to fade. The fingers were now gone from the imprint but the palm was still recognizable as what it is. She had been living fearfully over the fact that she wasn't going to be able to hide it forever. She considered the option of getting a permanent tattoo over it to cover up the evidence of her 'miracle.' Maria had been fortunate that Max's healing hadn't made direct contact with her skin, which was the only explanation either one of them can come up with to explain why she had the marking and Maria didn't.
The car rolled up slowly so as not to startle her and followed alongside for a good two minutes before the driver finally gave up being politely subtle. "Hey Tess!"
She froze in the middle of the sidewalk and turned slowly. She was just beginning to learn not to make sudden moves until she had to. She blinked at the black two-door that had pulled up alongside of her. "Kyle?"
"Hey Tess," he waved through the window. "Want a ride?"
A doubtful look bloomed on her face.
Kyle made a face. "Oh come on. I'm not a stranger… well, not completely anyways. You know me, you know my name, hell, you know where I live and you know who I am. I'm not going to molest you. So get in the car!"
"For someone who is insisting on doing me a favor, you're really crabby about it, you know that?" Tess asked as she got into the car, tossing her heavy backpack in first.
"What have you got in this thing?" Kyle asked as he shifted the backpack to the floorboard to give her room to sit. "Feels like a ton of bricks."
"Just some light reading," she answered breezily, not wanting to mention that among those light readings were several books on astro-projection and every article she could dig up on the 1947 'alien' crash in Roswell.
"Light is hardly the appropriate word," Kyle commented as he shifted gears.
"Off my back on the weight of my stuff, Mom and Maria make enough comments about it," she warned with a wiggling finger before leaning back. "So, why don't you tell me what you want and we can cut through the awkward moments that are more than likely to be coming up as you attempt to sound casual while trying to question me."
Chuckling, Kyle glanced over briefly while driving one handedly and shook his head. "You don't exactly beat around the bush, do you?"
"A trait that Maria has taught me and one that I employ occasionally when the mood suits me," she replied. "Now talk."
"I need help with my French essay. Seeing as you are one of the best in the school, I came to you. I'd go to Isabel but with the recent break up and all…" he made a light shrug. "You know how it is."
She looked at him. "And what makes you think I will agree to this?"
"Because you have a generous heart and I'll feed you?"
Wondering if food has become a universal bargaining tool, "What will you feed me?"
Giving her his brightest dimpled smile because she didn't say no, "Pizza and soda is all I can afford. I'll spring for extra cheese if you insist."
Contemplating what motivation this could stem from, she decided the direct route would be the most effective. "Why?"
"Why would I spring for cheese? Or why would I want help on French?"
"The second one."
"Cause I need to keep my grade point average up."
"I've seen your grades, they're not bad."
"Their not great either," he replied resignedly. "And the only reason my grades are even reasonably good is because I work damn hard at them. This stuff does not come easy to me. I am not the brainiac that Isabel or Max or you are. Hell, Michael may not show it but I've seen what he can do, he could be a straight A student if he wanted to be."
"He is," Tess replied nonchalantly.
"What?"
"I said he is. Michael, he's a straight A student believe it or not."
"He is?"
"Yeah," nodding her head. "I've seen his name on the honor list."
"He's on the honor list? We have an honor's list?" Kyle asked in disbelief. "Where is this list at?"
"In the Dean's office if you happen to stop by. Or all the honor students get mailed a copy. It came out last week."
Sighing, "Great, just what I needed to know." He rolled his eyes and sighed, determined not to allow his spirits to get dragged down with that piece of news. "Look, I could make the C average to play ball. But I don't want to play ball for the rest of my life, not that I think even for a moment that I could. I need the grades and the ball to get scholarships so I can go to college and make something more of myself. And to do that, I need you."
Definitely able to respect that, Tess nodded her head. "I guess it's probably in my best interest to help you seeing as my mother and your father seemed to be… becoming friend."
"Nice PC way of saying it."
"I'm not about to label it anything else at the moment."
"Fine by me."
"Okay then."
"So you want to come over tonight?"
"No, I've got six chapters to review in American Lit. Essay test tomorrow. But if you like to come over after dinner, I'll review your French for you."
"What time?"
"Seven thirty?"
"I'll be there…uh… here," as he stopped the car in front of her house. "Thanks a lot."
"Not a prob," she replied getting out of the car. "Oh, and bring soda."
"Sure."
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Rubbing his forehead, Jim Valenti studied the report once more. "And we're sure this is human blood?"
"Blood yes, human…" Here was a doubt in his tone. Joe Roberts has yet to comfort himself with any of the hard facts in this case. "That blood, we have it thoroughly analyzed. There bonding of the…. The chromosomes… It's like nothing I've ever seen before."
"Okay, there was no complete idea anywhere in there so you're going to have to expand on the answers." Jim frowned and sighed. "What are you talking about?"
Joe licked his lip, not enjoying going into this at all. He was a man of science. He didn't exactly like things that are not completely explainable. "I don't know what's going on, completely anyways. We ran the DNA tests, all of them that we can get our hands on. We… the closest the lab could get is… its like the DNA pulled from the diner was engineered."
Valenti closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Engineered? What do you mean engineered? No body engineers DNA."
"I know that," Joe answered with less than complete comfort. "But the complexity of the work up on the blood… it's unnatural. Out of this world even."
Jim couldn't get his jaw closed fast enough. Taking a deep breath, he wish to hell the CSI hadn't just those particular words. "Can we get some lab prints on this? I want everything you can get your hands on and then go search for more." He needed hard proof. He needed something more than theories and ideas to by on. This time, he'd have everything. Then he needed to know how Teresa Harding, Michael Guerin and Maxwell Evans is connected to all this. And what he intended to do about it.
"Sheriff, there's something else." Uncomfortable was a mild word to describe how Joe was feeling at the moment.
"What?"
"I…"
"What?"
"I think may have made a mistake."
"Mistake?" that wasn't good. He didn't want to hear about mistakes.
"Not a technical one, sir," seeing that it isn't wanted the sheriff wanted to hear.
"Then what?" he asked impatiently.
"I mentioned this case to someone."
Jim stared. "You openly talked about an active case?"
"Not to just anyone, sir."
"Joe, you and I have known each other for a long time. Whatever it is just spit it out!"
"Remember my brother?"
"With the FBI?"
"Yeah."
"You told an FBI agent what was happening here?"
"It was just mentioned in the casual passing. We were comparing bizarre cases." And the more he had thought about it, the more he wanted to kick himself for doing so. One does not talk about active cases… ever. It was like asking for a media leak.
This was not good. The last thing Valenti wanted was the federals looking into something happening in *his* town. There were enough people's reputation that were damaged by these *little* incidents that he didn't want a repeat of history. "Did your brother talk to anyone?"
"I doubt it, sir," Joe prayed that that was true. "He keeps pretty much to himself. And his job requires that he be discreet about cases. He won't just go babbling it."
"Let's hope not," Jim replied sharply.
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"Thanks for staying after, Liz. I appreciate it."
"Not at all Ms. Toplski," Liz replied cheerfully as she finished with the papers. "Believe it or not, business has been good at the diner. My dad hired on two more waitresses. Keeps us from burning out and living outside that place."
"Business still doing well after the shooting?"
Liz's head jerked over. "How did you know about the shooting?" the teacher hadn't arrived until must later.
"How could I not?" Toplski answered easily. "It was in all the newspaper and some of the students still talk about it. Not exactly a most exciting town, this one, people can't help but talk about the most excited things that happen." Her training was good. She knew how to keep things at bay.
"I suppose," Liz shrugged with understanding. "I think the shooting actually helped business, if you can believe it. There is a lot of curious folks that just wants to see what the scene of the crime looks like, found our food to their liking and just kept coming back."
"That's good, right?"
"Yeah, Dad says that I'm going to get that laptop I've always wanted if this keeps up."
"Congrats," showing a roll of perfect sparkling white teeth. "Every girl's dream next to true love and winning the lottery."
Liz laughed her stands relaxed and easy as she stacked the completed papers in front of her. "I'll settle for the laptop and lottery. Love can wait."
"Why?" Toplski asked with mild concern infused into her soothing voice. The little personal information she's collected over the past week had been less than useful until now. According to the gossip columns and facility grape vines, until recently Liz Parker had been the girlfriend of Michael Guerin's best friend. Surely the girl must have seen or heard something about Mr. Guerin through her association with the friend. "Wait, wait! Let me guess. You were burned."
Shaking her head slowly, "Not exactly. I actually did the breaking up."
"Oh?" that had not been clear in the gossips. "Cheater?"
"No, Max is nothing if not loyal to a fault," Liz murmured softly, remembering that though she chose not to association with his crowd, Max had always been good about including her in things and understanding when she didn't choose to join him and the others, just as he had been respectful of the distance she's needed in the past week. "He is probably once of the best guys I've ever had the pleasure of knowing," and had probably completely spoiled her for anyone to come. Max had been the perfect boyfriend… except for the part of being alien and all.
Tilting her head in curiosity, "So why did you break up with him if he was so wonderful?"
She's been asking herself that over and over again on nights when she was lonely. And then she remembered what he had done, what he can do, what she saw Michael do. Shrugging her shoulders wistfully, "There are things about him that he can't… won't share with me. And I … I can't do the half thing. I'm either in his life or I'm not and… It just got too complicated for me."
She assisted the new information with interest. "Rebel without a cause?"
Forcing a smile on a face, Liz grabbed her book bag. "Rebel he is not. Max has ways walked the straight and narrow," and how she had to wonder if that's because he didn't want to draw more attention than his natural ability seem to. "Now Michael Guerin on the other hand…"
"Hum…" here was the heart of what she was after. "The school bad boy from what I hear."
"Yep," she shuddered to think what kind of trouble Michael really can do if he set his mind to it. The possibilities were endless. "That's Michael. I don't know how Max puts up with him sometimes," of course it may have something to do with loyalties.
"He gets into quite a bit of trouble, doesn't he?" Toplski had already snuck a few peeks at Michael Guerin's school file. Other than being an inch thicker than everyone else's filled with demerits and school suspensions due to violence and a bad temper, nothing more could be gleamed from it. "I wonder why that is?"
"Lousy childhood?" Liz suggested with a sigh. "Michael's dad could have been up for the 'Worst Father of the Year' award for the last seventeen years running." She couldn't quite get the picture of what happened to Tess out of her head when she thought of Michael. It was all just too confusing by half. "Anyways, I've got to. I'm supposed to cover the dinner shift today."
"All right," trying not to sound disappointed that she didn't get anything more on Michael Guerin. "Good night, Liz. And thanks again."
"Not a problem," and skipped away happy to know that she's got a new friend in the new teacher.
Julia Toplski waited a few moments, listening to the fading footsteps in the hallway. Getting up, she closed the door to her classroom and retrieved the cell phone from her personal bag in the locked drawer at her desk. Speed dial one got her to the task force. "It's Toplski. I need everything you can get me on Michael Guerin's father." She hesitated for a second, feeling a nagging sense of unease at this particular situation. "Look into social services, there might have been abuse involved. Get back me quickly."
Hanging up the phone she looked out the window. The sun was beginning to set and the street just outside her window was washed with a warm orange glow. The flag in the distance parked city hall, the power house of this little town. Authority resided there.
She was a patriot. She worked ten years in the government to repay her country for everything it's given her. She supported all governmental agencies for what they were, a branch of the government that protected its own…. Except social services. She hated social service. She hated it for the simple fact that he represented something in this country she despised. An American raising their hands against a fellow American, a child, an innocent, a helpless being that needed *her* to protect them.
Over the course of the week, she's seen Michael Guerin on campus. A tall, lanky boy in his late teen, arrogant, smart with just enough danger in his eyes to make the others wary of him. Had this been in any other circumstance than what it is, he would have been exactly the kind of candidate that the FBI, CIA or NSA been eager to recruit. But he was a potential danger to her and the rest of the people she protected.
And now this new information about a bad father….
She didn't want Michael Guerin to be a victim. She didn't want him to be a helpless child. She needed him to be the enemy.
It's better that way.
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"You really suck at this, don't you?" Tess laughed as she marked yet another strange grammatical mistake she's found. So far, the first page of the French essay that Kyle had brought over looked like it had been generously dipped in red ink. "How ever did you get thought first quarter?"
"I had Isabel," Kyle admitted, not the least bit offended by her critique. He was use to it, Isabel use to make fun of his lack of secondary language skills too. "She use to tell me to go to Spanish, like that would be any easier."
"They're basically the same, but you don't have a lot of the silent pronunciations you have in French. The Spanish were a lot more literal than the French."
"Now they tell me," he muttered as he dipped another chip into the salsa that Tess had provided him. "This is good, who made it?"
"I did," she replied, pen going to paper again.
"Where's your mom?"
"Work," Tess answer, chewing on her pen as she considered the sentence again. "They're transporting a kid over county lines tonight."
"Hum… so that's what Dad meant."
"Police escort?"
"Yeah."
"Okay, nothing new there," shrugging her shoulders. She frowned and made another correction.
"Where's Maria?"
"Alex Whitman's. They're doing Spanish together."
"Hum…" he ate more salsa. There was nothing like studying to get the appetite going. And there was nothing that keeps the appetite going like freshly made food by someone that knew more than preparations of them than he ever could learn. "This is good."
"I'm glad you approve," she muttered dryly. "I won't want you bored while I'm doing all the work here."
He chuckled, taking sip from the tomato juice on the table, she had apologetically explained that there was nothing else in the house. He had a feeling from the looks of things that she often was lacking in things that Kyle took for granted. "Sorry about the soda," he made a mental note to bring some over at the earliest time… and then choked.
She looked over as he sputtered and coughed, making a real mess. "What's the matter?"
Kyle didn't answer, he couldn't. His entire body felt as if it had been set on fire and then someone had come along to add oil to it instead of trying to douse it with water. He gasped for what little air he could get without feeling the fire that was consuming his nasal passages.
"Oh my god," she yanked the glass out of his hand. "You grabbed the wrong cup, you idiot!" She had dumped nearly half a bottle of hot sauce into her juice, needing something strong to keep herself alert and awake.
Rushing to the sink, she poured a glass of water and came running back with it. "Here, here, here," tilting his head back so she could get some water down his obviously tortured throat.
He got about half a mouthful down before everything came sputtering out again. Pushing the glass away, Kyle coughed and spit out more water before he calmed down enough to try again. "Okay," he managed to gasp out as he took the glass from. Two small sips helped the burning sensation somewhat. He took two more sips.
Tess watched carefully, making sure he wasn't going to keel over at any point. After the color receded from his face to a simple tomato red rather than the ten bell fire engine red color he had been, she couldn't quite keep the smile from her face as she wiped drops of tomato juice from the essay she had been reading.
"I'm glad that this is amusing you," Kyle whispered hoarsely.
"Sorry," she chuckled. "I couldn't help it."
He shook his head and drank more water. The burning had been turned down to a full simmer now that the initial bon fire was out. "What did you put in there?"
"You don't want to know," she replied cheerfully, reaching across him to get more paper towels. He had created quite a mess not only on himself, but also on the kitchen table they were working on. As she leaned over and stretched across to reach the little wicker basket filled with little squares of napkins that Maria had been stealing from the diner, the fitted tee she was wearing lifted slightly.
Kyle's eyes, closed until that point, zeroed in on the patch of discoloring. "What the hell?"
"What?" she asked, turning her head. Her eyes followed his to the fading mark on her side. Retreating quickly, she pulled the shirt down over the silvery patch.
Eyes still on where the marking had been Kyle frowned. "What was that?"
"What was what?" feeling like a complete idiot.
"That… that thing on you side," he asked, hand reaching out to see again.
She slapped his hand sharply. "Don't get fresh."
Kyle's eyes came up to meet hers. "Tess, what was that?"
Her mind churned quickly. "It's… it's…."
"Was that a tattoo?" he suggested suspiciously.
"Kind of," she replied in a mutter. Her mind was still coming up with something that might be plausible. "We…"
"We?"
"Um…" she swallowed, her head spinning with ideas… none of them good. "Maria and me. We… we've been… experimenting. Yeah. We've been experimenting with… different kinds of body paint. We're… going to do a… a…. open an online shop. Body paint was one of the kinds of things that we wanted to… to sell."
"Really?" doubt heavily tainting his voice.
"Yeah," she nodded enthusiastically. "We've been making jewelry and stuff. Really girly stuff, you know. Body paint and makeup seems like the logical next step to take." She was proud of the fact that made semi sense in her head.
"Right," nodding his head slowly, his eyes careful on her. He didn't believe a damn word she said. "You and Maria are going to start a business."
"Yeah," bobbing her head again. "In case you haven't notice, we're not too well off right now. Seems like a very good idea." She made a gesture with her hand. "A little extra money would certainly do this home a little good, don't you think?"
"Ah um," he kept looking at her. It certainly made sense, but why didn't it jive right. "Body paint," he repeated, his eyes going to the spot again.
"Yeah," she said breathily. "Body paint."
"What did you paint on?"
"We're not sure," she replied taking a huge breath. "Maria isn't the best artist and we're still playing with the paint."
"What do you mean?"
"It's not coming off."
"The paint?"
"Yeah."
"The paint won't come off."
"It's come off… slightly."
"Is it supposed to come off?"
"Yes."
"And it's not."
"No."
Kyle shook his head. The girl was nervous as hell for no reason he could possibly think of if her story was true. "So you've got a blob of… silver paint on your body that resembles nothing because you and your sister had been… experimenting."
Tess winced. "Why does it sound so terrible when you say it?"
"I don't know," he replied seriously. "You tell me."
"You're awfully nosy."
"Just curious."
"Can you be curious about something else, then?"
"Why?"
"Cause…. Cause… Because I don't want to jinx the idea of opening the shop. Like I said, Maria and I are working on it."
"Right," he said slowly. He may not be the smartest guy in the world but he knew when he was being lied to. And Teresa Harding was lying through her teeth at him. Now the question is: why?
To be continued….
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Sorry this one took so long. I was having other issues.
By Didi
Disclaimer: Every time I have to write this, I have this insane urge to laugh like a maniac. Who in their right minds would ever think that I would, or even could, own Roswell?
Timeline: Roswell redone, my way. Take it back to the beginning and turn just about everything upside down and inside out. For background... read the preceding chapters first, or at least read the three chapters before this to make some sense of this next part. And this chapter will take place after the shooting.
Ratings: R for restricted.
Author's Note: I don't suppose anyone knows if Roswell will ever come around to be on DVD or not. I can't remember the series too well. And writing the story has become somewhat a task when I've got to go and find out information all the time. Rather watch the series over again to refresh my memories.
Summary: Kyle stumbles onto something he shouldn't. Valenti experiences a slight problem. Liz has a little conversation with the new teacher.
*Thoughts* "Spoken"
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Chapter 26 – New Players
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"Brody!" Tess called as she struggled to get her book into her backpack. The daffodil yellow backpack was becoming so worn that even repairs wasn't doing any good anymore. She'll have to pour in a little money to get another one soon. *Damn it, I was so hoping to buy nice presents this year for Mom and Maria.* Shaking her head, "Brody!" she called again.
There was a crash and several non-comprehensive curses from the back. And since this was a normal occurrence, Tess paid little attention to it.
"BRODY!!!" she hollered after several more moments of silence.
"Yes? Did you call?" Brody asked as he stumbled and trailed wires, cables and other tangle-able objections around him. He resembled a science experiment gone awry yet there was something very endearing about the way he was looking wide eyed at her inquisitively… then promptly tripped over more cables attached to his simulator suit. "Darn that machine."
"Simulator?" she asked, picking up several pens she knew wasn't hers.
"VR," came the cheerful reply. "I think I've been able to recreate the last time those blasted aliens took me."
Tess held her tongue on what she thought of these theories of Brody's to explain the unaccounted times that the man claims. Personally, she thought they were blackouts that Brody was unwilling to admit to. But she did she know. "So how would you know if the VR is recreating things accurately if you can't remember what happened? Who's going to verify it?"
Brody nodded his head, delighted that she understood. "Oh don't you worry. I'll know it when I see it. It's like having a fuzzy memory of something. When it all comes together, it will be as clear as day. Positive."
Nodding her head, "Okay, as long as you're sure. I've gotta go early today. Test tomorrow. Try not to blow anything up while I'm away."
"Will do," he replied with a happy grin as he looked around the office. "Hey, you got the Galileo charts done."
"The pictures are logged by the star maps, western hemisphere to the east. Suggestion?"
"Always."
"I like scan and input the pictures into one big project-able sky view." She picked up a few of the pictures still on the worktable that she hadn't been able to identify. Max would know which ones they are. The guy was even better at star reorganization that she was, if that came be believed. "Can you imagine it? Three hundred and sixty degree angle view of the stars from the Galileo project? Think of all the advertisements we could do on it? We could maybe even work out something with the school board about having the schools take field trips here to learn about astronomy."
"But this is an alien exhibits," he replied staring at her owlishly.
"Yes but we do a lot of stuff about stars and astronomy and…" she was still getting that blank look. "Tell me something, Brody. We don't usually get many people around here, only the tourists and some whack jobs every now and then. How is this business financed?"
He looked startled by her concerns. "Tess, don't worry. You'll get paid at the end of the week? Are things difficult at home right now?"
Sometimes talking to Brody was like falling into the rabbit hole. "No, everything is fine. And I'm not worried about the paycheck, Brody. I know you won't stiff me. I'm just worried about how this place will continue to exist."
"Oh that," he laughed and waved her concerns away. "I make plenty on the computer market to offset this place. Plus I like it here."
"You're a…"
"Computer whiz is what they like to call guys like me," he shrugged and made a face. "Hated being called that."
Tess nodded to herself. "No calling Brody computer anything. Got it."
He laughed, an innocent child like sound that was a joy to behold. "You're such an adorable child. There should be more like you around."
"Thank you," she replied cheerfully. "I think there should be more eccentric guys like you around too. Want anything done before I have to leave?"
"No, go, enjoy your studies."
"That's supposed to be a friendly send-off? Enjoy my studies?"
"I always enjoyed my studies," he informed her rather bewildered by her teasing.
Giggling because he was one of the few wonderful things she was enjoying in this strange little town. "Yes, but you are hardly what they call an average person. Bet you even liked school when you were my age."
"Don't make me sound so ancient," he said with a smile. "And yes, I did enjoy school. Only time I was allowed out of the confines of my home. My mother was a rather overly protective parent. She didn't like her have her little chicks wonder off too far from her when no necessary."
"Hum… sounds just like my mother," Tess mused. "I'll see you in two days."
"Aren't you coming tomorrow?"
"No, it's Max's shift tomorrow."
Brody frowned thoughtfully. "You and Max haven't been crossing paths much lately, have you?"
Tess paused. "No. Not much. I see him occasionally in school and that's about it."
"Hum…" he scratched his head, wondering what's going on between his two assistants. It was obviously that Max held an attraction for Tess; heck the boy asks about her every time he comes in here. Where Tess stands was another matter; but then again she seems to be a rather private person. Brody have never seen two people work so well together yet be so… well; he was a romantic at heart. "I was hoping that if Max agrees, you and him can work on this projection thing you are talking about. Sounds like a lovely idea."
"Really?" Delighted that he liked her idea and trying to quash the sudden leap of her heart at the thought of see Max more. *Friends. We are friends… kind of.* Latching on to the business end of the conversation, "You really like the idea?"
"Why not?" he asked cheerfully, enjoying the absolute brilliance of her eyes as she jumped for joy. She really was such a pretty thing.
"Can we afford it?"
"Sure," waving the finances away in his own mind. "I just rented the database you and Max completed last week on the solar flares to a major research office. Plenty of money coming in."
Tess stared. "Oh, so that's how this place is run."
"Yes," he answered with a frown. "Didn't I tell you that?"
She stared at him and reframed from answering. "Well, if you can get Max to agree, just call me tomorrow and I can be here. I could use the extra money."
"Sounds like a plan then."
"See you tomorrow… maybe," then skipped out feeling considerably cheered. Shielding her eyes from the blinding sun, Tess paused to enjoy the warmth of the outdoors.
Hot wind in her face, she began a slow tread toward home. She hoped that Maria would bring back something from the diner instead of having her cook, which isn't a problem since it was so quick, but she didn't really have the energy to do so today. Her body may be healed but her spirits still need some time to reconsider its place in life. The amount of tension and pressure in the last week was enough to drive her up the wall. And that's just the part concerning the possibilities of Liz and Alex blabbing their mouth off. Added to that was Isabel's icy looks, Michael's pitying ones and Max's complete avoidance of her. It was just enough to send a normal person over the edge. *Of course, no one can call me normal.*
Absentmindedly, she rubbed her side. The silvery handprint, after two weeks, was finally beginning to fade. The fingers were now gone from the imprint but the palm was still recognizable as what it is. She had been living fearfully over the fact that she wasn't going to be able to hide it forever. She considered the option of getting a permanent tattoo over it to cover up the evidence of her 'miracle.' Maria had been fortunate that Max's healing hadn't made direct contact with her skin, which was the only explanation either one of them can come up with to explain why she had the marking and Maria didn't.
The car rolled up slowly so as not to startle her and followed alongside for a good two minutes before the driver finally gave up being politely subtle. "Hey Tess!"
She froze in the middle of the sidewalk and turned slowly. She was just beginning to learn not to make sudden moves until she had to. She blinked at the black two-door that had pulled up alongside of her. "Kyle?"
"Hey Tess," he waved through the window. "Want a ride?"
A doubtful look bloomed on her face.
Kyle made a face. "Oh come on. I'm not a stranger… well, not completely anyways. You know me, you know my name, hell, you know where I live and you know who I am. I'm not going to molest you. So get in the car!"
"For someone who is insisting on doing me a favor, you're really crabby about it, you know that?" Tess asked as she got into the car, tossing her heavy backpack in first.
"What have you got in this thing?" Kyle asked as he shifted the backpack to the floorboard to give her room to sit. "Feels like a ton of bricks."
"Just some light reading," she answered breezily, not wanting to mention that among those light readings were several books on astro-projection and every article she could dig up on the 1947 'alien' crash in Roswell.
"Light is hardly the appropriate word," Kyle commented as he shifted gears.
"Off my back on the weight of my stuff, Mom and Maria make enough comments about it," she warned with a wiggling finger before leaning back. "So, why don't you tell me what you want and we can cut through the awkward moments that are more than likely to be coming up as you attempt to sound casual while trying to question me."
Chuckling, Kyle glanced over briefly while driving one handedly and shook his head. "You don't exactly beat around the bush, do you?"
"A trait that Maria has taught me and one that I employ occasionally when the mood suits me," she replied. "Now talk."
"I need help with my French essay. Seeing as you are one of the best in the school, I came to you. I'd go to Isabel but with the recent break up and all…" he made a light shrug. "You know how it is."
She looked at him. "And what makes you think I will agree to this?"
"Because you have a generous heart and I'll feed you?"
Wondering if food has become a universal bargaining tool, "What will you feed me?"
Giving her his brightest dimpled smile because she didn't say no, "Pizza and soda is all I can afford. I'll spring for extra cheese if you insist."
Contemplating what motivation this could stem from, she decided the direct route would be the most effective. "Why?"
"Why would I spring for cheese? Or why would I want help on French?"
"The second one."
"Cause I need to keep my grade point average up."
"I've seen your grades, they're not bad."
"Their not great either," he replied resignedly. "And the only reason my grades are even reasonably good is because I work damn hard at them. This stuff does not come easy to me. I am not the brainiac that Isabel or Max or you are. Hell, Michael may not show it but I've seen what he can do, he could be a straight A student if he wanted to be."
"He is," Tess replied nonchalantly.
"What?"
"I said he is. Michael, he's a straight A student believe it or not."
"He is?"
"Yeah," nodding her head. "I've seen his name on the honor list."
"He's on the honor list? We have an honor's list?" Kyle asked in disbelief. "Where is this list at?"
"In the Dean's office if you happen to stop by. Or all the honor students get mailed a copy. It came out last week."
Sighing, "Great, just what I needed to know." He rolled his eyes and sighed, determined not to allow his spirits to get dragged down with that piece of news. "Look, I could make the C average to play ball. But I don't want to play ball for the rest of my life, not that I think even for a moment that I could. I need the grades and the ball to get scholarships so I can go to college and make something more of myself. And to do that, I need you."
Definitely able to respect that, Tess nodded her head. "I guess it's probably in my best interest to help you seeing as my mother and your father seemed to be… becoming friend."
"Nice PC way of saying it."
"I'm not about to label it anything else at the moment."
"Fine by me."
"Okay then."
"So you want to come over tonight?"
"No, I've got six chapters to review in American Lit. Essay test tomorrow. But if you like to come over after dinner, I'll review your French for you."
"What time?"
"Seven thirty?"
"I'll be there…uh… here," as he stopped the car in front of her house. "Thanks a lot."
"Not a prob," she replied getting out of the car. "Oh, and bring soda."
"Sure."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Rubbing his forehead, Jim Valenti studied the report once more. "And we're sure this is human blood?"
"Blood yes, human…" Here was a doubt in his tone. Joe Roberts has yet to comfort himself with any of the hard facts in this case. "That blood, we have it thoroughly analyzed. There bonding of the…. The chromosomes… It's like nothing I've ever seen before."
"Okay, there was no complete idea anywhere in there so you're going to have to expand on the answers." Jim frowned and sighed. "What are you talking about?"
Joe licked his lip, not enjoying going into this at all. He was a man of science. He didn't exactly like things that are not completely explainable. "I don't know what's going on, completely anyways. We ran the DNA tests, all of them that we can get our hands on. We… the closest the lab could get is… its like the DNA pulled from the diner was engineered."
Valenti closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Engineered? What do you mean engineered? No body engineers DNA."
"I know that," Joe answered with less than complete comfort. "But the complexity of the work up on the blood… it's unnatural. Out of this world even."
Jim couldn't get his jaw closed fast enough. Taking a deep breath, he wish to hell the CSI hadn't just those particular words. "Can we get some lab prints on this? I want everything you can get your hands on and then go search for more." He needed hard proof. He needed something more than theories and ideas to by on. This time, he'd have everything. Then he needed to know how Teresa Harding, Michael Guerin and Maxwell Evans is connected to all this. And what he intended to do about it.
"Sheriff, there's something else." Uncomfortable was a mild word to describe how Joe was feeling at the moment.
"What?"
"I…"
"What?"
"I think may have made a mistake."
"Mistake?" that wasn't good. He didn't want to hear about mistakes.
"Not a technical one, sir," seeing that it isn't wanted the sheriff wanted to hear.
"Then what?" he asked impatiently.
"I mentioned this case to someone."
Jim stared. "You openly talked about an active case?"
"Not to just anyone, sir."
"Joe, you and I have known each other for a long time. Whatever it is just spit it out!"
"Remember my brother?"
"With the FBI?"
"Yeah."
"You told an FBI agent what was happening here?"
"It was just mentioned in the casual passing. We were comparing bizarre cases." And the more he had thought about it, the more he wanted to kick himself for doing so. One does not talk about active cases… ever. It was like asking for a media leak.
This was not good. The last thing Valenti wanted was the federals looking into something happening in *his* town. There were enough people's reputation that were damaged by these *little* incidents that he didn't want a repeat of history. "Did your brother talk to anyone?"
"I doubt it, sir," Joe prayed that that was true. "He keeps pretty much to himself. And his job requires that he be discreet about cases. He won't just go babbling it."
"Let's hope not," Jim replied sharply.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Thanks for staying after, Liz. I appreciate it."
"Not at all Ms. Toplski," Liz replied cheerfully as she finished with the papers. "Believe it or not, business has been good at the diner. My dad hired on two more waitresses. Keeps us from burning out and living outside that place."
"Business still doing well after the shooting?"
Liz's head jerked over. "How did you know about the shooting?" the teacher hadn't arrived until must later.
"How could I not?" Toplski answered easily. "It was in all the newspaper and some of the students still talk about it. Not exactly a most exciting town, this one, people can't help but talk about the most excited things that happen." Her training was good. She knew how to keep things at bay.
"I suppose," Liz shrugged with understanding. "I think the shooting actually helped business, if you can believe it. There is a lot of curious folks that just wants to see what the scene of the crime looks like, found our food to their liking and just kept coming back."
"That's good, right?"
"Yeah, Dad says that I'm going to get that laptop I've always wanted if this keeps up."
"Congrats," showing a roll of perfect sparkling white teeth. "Every girl's dream next to true love and winning the lottery."
Liz laughed her stands relaxed and easy as she stacked the completed papers in front of her. "I'll settle for the laptop and lottery. Love can wait."
"Why?" Toplski asked with mild concern infused into her soothing voice. The little personal information she's collected over the past week had been less than useful until now. According to the gossip columns and facility grape vines, until recently Liz Parker had been the girlfriend of Michael Guerin's best friend. Surely the girl must have seen or heard something about Mr. Guerin through her association with the friend. "Wait, wait! Let me guess. You were burned."
Shaking her head slowly, "Not exactly. I actually did the breaking up."
"Oh?" that had not been clear in the gossips. "Cheater?"
"No, Max is nothing if not loyal to a fault," Liz murmured softly, remembering that though she chose not to association with his crowd, Max had always been good about including her in things and understanding when she didn't choose to join him and the others, just as he had been respectful of the distance she's needed in the past week. "He is probably once of the best guys I've ever had the pleasure of knowing," and had probably completely spoiled her for anyone to come. Max had been the perfect boyfriend… except for the part of being alien and all.
Tilting her head in curiosity, "So why did you break up with him if he was so wonderful?"
She's been asking herself that over and over again on nights when she was lonely. And then she remembered what he had done, what he can do, what she saw Michael do. Shrugging her shoulders wistfully, "There are things about him that he can't… won't share with me. And I … I can't do the half thing. I'm either in his life or I'm not and… It just got too complicated for me."
She assisted the new information with interest. "Rebel without a cause?"
Forcing a smile on a face, Liz grabbed her book bag. "Rebel he is not. Max has ways walked the straight and narrow," and how she had to wonder if that's because he didn't want to draw more attention than his natural ability seem to. "Now Michael Guerin on the other hand…"
"Hum…" here was the heart of what she was after. "The school bad boy from what I hear."
"Yep," she shuddered to think what kind of trouble Michael really can do if he set his mind to it. The possibilities were endless. "That's Michael. I don't know how Max puts up with him sometimes," of course it may have something to do with loyalties.
"He gets into quite a bit of trouble, doesn't he?" Toplski had already snuck a few peeks at Michael Guerin's school file. Other than being an inch thicker than everyone else's filled with demerits and school suspensions due to violence and a bad temper, nothing more could be gleamed from it. "I wonder why that is?"
"Lousy childhood?" Liz suggested with a sigh. "Michael's dad could have been up for the 'Worst Father of the Year' award for the last seventeen years running." She couldn't quite get the picture of what happened to Tess out of her head when she thought of Michael. It was all just too confusing by half. "Anyways, I've got to. I'm supposed to cover the dinner shift today."
"All right," trying not to sound disappointed that she didn't get anything more on Michael Guerin. "Good night, Liz. And thanks again."
"Not a problem," and skipped away happy to know that she's got a new friend in the new teacher.
Julia Toplski waited a few moments, listening to the fading footsteps in the hallway. Getting up, she closed the door to her classroom and retrieved the cell phone from her personal bag in the locked drawer at her desk. Speed dial one got her to the task force. "It's Toplski. I need everything you can get me on Michael Guerin's father." She hesitated for a second, feeling a nagging sense of unease at this particular situation. "Look into social services, there might have been abuse involved. Get back me quickly."
Hanging up the phone she looked out the window. The sun was beginning to set and the street just outside her window was washed with a warm orange glow. The flag in the distance parked city hall, the power house of this little town. Authority resided there.
She was a patriot. She worked ten years in the government to repay her country for everything it's given her. She supported all governmental agencies for what they were, a branch of the government that protected its own…. Except social services. She hated social service. She hated it for the simple fact that he represented something in this country she despised. An American raising their hands against a fellow American, a child, an innocent, a helpless being that needed *her* to protect them.
Over the course of the week, she's seen Michael Guerin on campus. A tall, lanky boy in his late teen, arrogant, smart with just enough danger in his eyes to make the others wary of him. Had this been in any other circumstance than what it is, he would have been exactly the kind of candidate that the FBI, CIA or NSA been eager to recruit. But he was a potential danger to her and the rest of the people she protected.
And now this new information about a bad father….
She didn't want Michael Guerin to be a victim. She didn't want him to be a helpless child. She needed him to be the enemy.
It's better that way.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"You really suck at this, don't you?" Tess laughed as she marked yet another strange grammatical mistake she's found. So far, the first page of the French essay that Kyle had brought over looked like it had been generously dipped in red ink. "How ever did you get thought first quarter?"
"I had Isabel," Kyle admitted, not the least bit offended by her critique. He was use to it, Isabel use to make fun of his lack of secondary language skills too. "She use to tell me to go to Spanish, like that would be any easier."
"They're basically the same, but you don't have a lot of the silent pronunciations you have in French. The Spanish were a lot more literal than the French."
"Now they tell me," he muttered as he dipped another chip into the salsa that Tess had provided him. "This is good, who made it?"
"I did," she replied, pen going to paper again.
"Where's your mom?"
"Work," Tess answer, chewing on her pen as she considered the sentence again. "They're transporting a kid over county lines tonight."
"Hum… so that's what Dad meant."
"Police escort?"
"Yeah."
"Okay, nothing new there," shrugging her shoulders. She frowned and made another correction.
"Where's Maria?"
"Alex Whitman's. They're doing Spanish together."
"Hum…" he ate more salsa. There was nothing like studying to get the appetite going. And there was nothing that keeps the appetite going like freshly made food by someone that knew more than preparations of them than he ever could learn. "This is good."
"I'm glad you approve," she muttered dryly. "I won't want you bored while I'm doing all the work here."
He chuckled, taking sip from the tomato juice on the table, she had apologetically explained that there was nothing else in the house. He had a feeling from the looks of things that she often was lacking in things that Kyle took for granted. "Sorry about the soda," he made a mental note to bring some over at the earliest time… and then choked.
She looked over as he sputtered and coughed, making a real mess. "What's the matter?"
Kyle didn't answer, he couldn't. His entire body felt as if it had been set on fire and then someone had come along to add oil to it instead of trying to douse it with water. He gasped for what little air he could get without feeling the fire that was consuming his nasal passages.
"Oh my god," she yanked the glass out of his hand. "You grabbed the wrong cup, you idiot!" She had dumped nearly half a bottle of hot sauce into her juice, needing something strong to keep herself alert and awake.
Rushing to the sink, she poured a glass of water and came running back with it. "Here, here, here," tilting his head back so she could get some water down his obviously tortured throat.
He got about half a mouthful down before everything came sputtering out again. Pushing the glass away, Kyle coughed and spit out more water before he calmed down enough to try again. "Okay," he managed to gasp out as he took the glass from. Two small sips helped the burning sensation somewhat. He took two more sips.
Tess watched carefully, making sure he wasn't going to keel over at any point. After the color receded from his face to a simple tomato red rather than the ten bell fire engine red color he had been, she couldn't quite keep the smile from her face as she wiped drops of tomato juice from the essay she had been reading.
"I'm glad that this is amusing you," Kyle whispered hoarsely.
"Sorry," she chuckled. "I couldn't help it."
He shook his head and drank more water. The burning had been turned down to a full simmer now that the initial bon fire was out. "What did you put in there?"
"You don't want to know," she replied cheerfully, reaching across him to get more paper towels. He had created quite a mess not only on himself, but also on the kitchen table they were working on. As she leaned over and stretched across to reach the little wicker basket filled with little squares of napkins that Maria had been stealing from the diner, the fitted tee she was wearing lifted slightly.
Kyle's eyes, closed until that point, zeroed in on the patch of discoloring. "What the hell?"
"What?" she asked, turning her head. Her eyes followed his to the fading mark on her side. Retreating quickly, she pulled the shirt down over the silvery patch.
Eyes still on where the marking had been Kyle frowned. "What was that?"
"What was what?" feeling like a complete idiot.
"That… that thing on you side," he asked, hand reaching out to see again.
She slapped his hand sharply. "Don't get fresh."
Kyle's eyes came up to meet hers. "Tess, what was that?"
Her mind churned quickly. "It's… it's…."
"Was that a tattoo?" he suggested suspiciously.
"Kind of," she replied in a mutter. Her mind was still coming up with something that might be plausible. "We…"
"We?"
"Um…" she swallowed, her head spinning with ideas… none of them good. "Maria and me. We… we've been… experimenting. Yeah. We've been experimenting with… different kinds of body paint. We're… going to do a… a…. open an online shop. Body paint was one of the kinds of things that we wanted to… to sell."
"Really?" doubt heavily tainting his voice.
"Yeah," she nodded enthusiastically. "We've been making jewelry and stuff. Really girly stuff, you know. Body paint and makeup seems like the logical next step to take." She was proud of the fact that made semi sense in her head.
"Right," nodding his head slowly, his eyes careful on her. He didn't believe a damn word she said. "You and Maria are going to start a business."
"Yeah," bobbing her head again. "In case you haven't notice, we're not too well off right now. Seems like a very good idea." She made a gesture with her hand. "A little extra money would certainly do this home a little good, don't you think?"
"Ah um," he kept looking at her. It certainly made sense, but why didn't it jive right. "Body paint," he repeated, his eyes going to the spot again.
"Yeah," she said breathily. "Body paint."
"What did you paint on?"
"We're not sure," she replied taking a huge breath. "Maria isn't the best artist and we're still playing with the paint."
"What do you mean?"
"It's not coming off."
"The paint?"
"Yeah."
"The paint won't come off."
"It's come off… slightly."
"Is it supposed to come off?"
"Yes."
"And it's not."
"No."
Kyle shook his head. The girl was nervous as hell for no reason he could possibly think of if her story was true. "So you've got a blob of… silver paint on your body that resembles nothing because you and your sister had been… experimenting."
Tess winced. "Why does it sound so terrible when you say it?"
"I don't know," he replied seriously. "You tell me."
"You're awfully nosy."
"Just curious."
"Can you be curious about something else, then?"
"Why?"
"Cause…. Cause… Because I don't want to jinx the idea of opening the shop. Like I said, Maria and I are working on it."
"Right," he said slowly. He may not be the smartest guy in the world but he knew when he was being lied to. And Teresa Harding was lying through her teeth at him. Now the question is: why?
To be continued….
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sorry this one took so long. I was having other issues.