CHAPTER FOUR

AGENT J:

It was one of the most interesting experiences of my life. Seta didn't like to shop and assumed that Zuri would show herself around and leave her to pay for it. She was fine with that. The only problem was, Zuri didn't know how to shop. She'd never been to a mall, or anything like it. Watching the two of them was rather comical. We walked in and out of stores, looking at things but never touching. Then, finally, Seta realized we'd walked all the way around the mall. Zuri was thrilled at how much fun she'd just had and was ready to leave. She hadn't bought a thing. I hid my smile as Seta tried to explain the concept of buying things. Then we started over.

Zuri discovered that she liked trying things on, but she rarely liked what she saw. She modeled every fashion in the mall, jeans to formal dresses to casual business. She liked evening gowns, and didn't seem to understand that those were not meant to be worn during everyday activities. I wasn't sure if that was more her culture or her position in it. She was, after all, a princess.

She tried the jeans and T-shirts look, but she didn't like that, either. I think what it came down to was that she didn't want to feel like she was wearing clothes. She kept complaining that she didn't like the way the fabric fell around her. Then she discovered spandex.

Her look became pretty simple. It varied a little, but not a whole lot. Spandex pants, short skirt, tight tank top, and a looser shirt over that. It was kind of an eighties look. I never would've thought it by the combination, but she actually looked really good. She got a jean jacket to put over the shirts she didn't want to double on, and a few pairs of shorts and capris. She wasn't a particularly flashy dresser; she didn't like the bright green and yellow look. She liked black, gold, and silver, mostly. She ventured into red for a few shirts. Seta helped her to color coordinate. I stood by and watched, not entirely sure what I was doing here.

"I don't know how crazy K's going to be about this wardrobe," I mumbled as we waited for her to emerge from a dressing room.

"What do you mean?" Seta questioned.

"Well, nothing personal against her or anything, but she's kind of a slut."

Seta glared at me. "She's not a slut, J. She just doesn't understand how..."

"By our standards, she's a slut."

"That's an awfully derogatory term to use against someone who doesn't know that she's doing anything wrong."

"Well, isn't it your job to teach her?" I challenged. "I'll tell you one thing, when she goes jackin' off the entire football team at your school because she's so damn seductive in the way she dresses and..."

"You don't know that she'll do that," Seta defended, cutting me off.

I turned to face her. "She's looking to people here to figure out how to act," I whispered harshly. "And she's dressing in a way that's going to give guys the wrong impression. They're going to expect her to put out, and she'll think that's what she's supposed to do because she's looking to them to figure out how to act."

"You just deal with your own issues, J," she growled. "Let me take care of Zuri."

I wanted to shoot something back at her, but I didn't have a chance before Zuri stepped out of the dressing room. "How does this look?" she questioned, spinning around.

Seta and I glared at each other. Then, all of a sudden, the mirror next to Zuri shattered into a million pieces, spraying tiny shards of glass everywhere. I knelt down and hid my face inside my jacket instinctively. Zuri screamed as the glass tinkled to the floor. I looked up and saw her staring past me, horror written all over her face. I looked behind me and saw a man with a gun aiming at her. She was just standing, frozen in place. Damn it!

"Get down!" Seta screamed at her, jumping up and tackling her to the ground. The wooden door directly behind where she'd just been standing burst into a slivers no thicker than toothpicks.

"Call backup!" I yelled at Seta.

I turned my attention to the man. He was approaching quickly, the gun at his side. There were too many people here, all on the floor. I knew I wasn't supposed to draw attention to myself. Ever. Especially not with a gun in my hand. I was either going to answer to police or become a fugitive. Unless no one got a good look at me...

I reached into my pocket and pulled out my glasses, pressing them to my face. It wasn't much, but it would help a little bit. "J!" Seta whispered harshly. I turned and glanced at her and she tossed me a baseball cap. Smart. I could eliminate both hair and eye color from a description.

I put the cap on backwards, pulling it low. The man was only about ten feet away now. I pulled my gun and held it firmly, feeling it warm in my hand. Then I stood up and pointed it at the man. "Freeze," I ordered.

He stopped and glared at me, but said nothing. The gun remained at his side. I studied him carefully. He had long gray hair and wore glasses that distorted his eyes. He didn't have a beard, but hadn't shaved recently, either. He was wearing dirty jeans and a T-shirt with a jean-jacket over it. "Who are you?" he finally growled. His voice was more of a rumble than anything. Like a low growl in his throat.

I suddenly realized that I had no plan here. I knew better than to shoot him point blank. And I doubted that he was human. I didn't want to just hold him until the security guards got here. That would be messy. So what was I supposed to do with him now? "I'm a cop," I answered.

He laughed. "You gonna shoot me with your scary gun?" he chuckled.

I saw the muscles in his hand tighten. "Don't do it," I warned, every nerve standing on edge.

"You can't hurt me," he laughed.

He pulled the gun in front of him. With lightning quick reflexes, I shot at his hand, hoping to hit and shatter the gun. I wasn't sure if I'd succeeded. I hit the floor, knowing that he had already fired. His aim wasn't so good this time and he hit the tall shelf of jeans next to me. The support beam disintegrated and I knew what was happening, though I couldn't do anything to stop it. I saw the wall collapse on top of me and prayed that I had hit him as I felt pain surge through my body and darkness surround my mind.

SARA:

I stared at the food on my plate, listening to the sounds of my family. "I got to the last level on Sonic today."

"You did not. That wasn't the last level."

"Yes, it was."

"Noooo..."

"Because a friend of mine beat it before."

"You're stupid."

"Hey," my father's voice boomed. "I don't want to hear 'stupid'."

There was a brief moment of silence. "He just called me a buttkisser!" Justen cried.

"I did not," Kyle laughed.

"Yes, you did, Kyle, I heard you!" Magen chimed in.

"No I didn't," he chuckled.

"Something funny, Kyle?" my mother asked.

"No," he continued to laugh.

"Maybe you'd like to write some sentences for me," my dad suggested.

I closed my eyes and tried to block out the noise. The man had run after the display fell on J. K and a handful of other agents had shown up a few minutes later. They got Zuri out of there, and J. They both needed medical attention, her for the glass that had cut her legs to pieces (it was a good thing she was wearing a leather jacket and not facing the mirror when it broke). J was hurt in God-only-knew how many ways. They took him away, dressed as medical personnel and police officers, and I stayed behind to clean things up and get the surveillance tapes from the store. Then K drove me home, dropping me off a few doors down so that I wouldn't be seen getting out of his car. He said he thought J was fine, but I knew as well as he did that we had no idea what all was wrong with him. He was unconscious when they dragged him out of the store.

"So where were you all afternoon?" my mom questioned. I realized the question was directed at me.

"I told you I was going to the mall," I reminded her. "You said that was okay."

"You've never spent so long at the mall before."

"Well, there's a new girl at school who's trying to fit in and I was just trying to make her feel welcome."

It wasn't entirely a lie. I choked down my last few bites of food and stood up. "I think I'm going to go to bed," I mumbled.

"It's only 7:00," Mom commented.

"I know. But I'm not feeling all that hot. I'll see you tomorrow."

I put my dishes in the sink and wandered into my room, closing the door behind me. I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and stared at it for a minute before dialing K's number. It rang, but no one picked it up. Finally, I hung up and lay back on the bottom bunk of the beds I shared with my sister. Maybe he'd call me back. I closed my eyes and felt my body relax. The light was still on and I was still wearing my shoes, but I could feel my mind letting go. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

The next thing I knew, I opened my eyes to a dark room. I glanced at the clock and did a double take. It was 4:00 in the morning! I must have really been tired. I checked my phone for voice messages, but there were none. I stood up slowly. It was too early to go to school, but I wasn't tired. Maybe I could stop at headquarters. It was, after all, only about a half mile out of the way.

I took a quick shower and walked out into the cool morning air dressed in black slacks and a white dress shirt. I didn't wear the tie and jacket to school. My mother would kill me if she found out about that. She already had suspicions that I was attempting to cross-dress. I considered for a moment what she would think about my involvement in something she didn't believe existed or, for that matter, approve of my studying. I thought of what Maygan would say, and pushed the thought aside. Maygan would believe me, I knew.

I opened the back door with the key I'd been given, typed the numbers into the keypad to open the elevator, and pressed my thumb to the screen. A few moments later, I stepped into the bright white hallway. I made my way to K's office, not sure if he would be there or not. This place sounded just as alive now as it did in the middle of the day. I didn't know who was here and who wasn't.

K was at his desk, reading. I knocked on the open door and he looked up. "What are you doing here?" he questioned, glancing at his watch.

"How are Zuri and J?" I asked.

He set the book down. "Zuri's fine, just a little shaken. J's got a concussion and he's pretty beat up. But nothing's broken."

"Why did that happen?"

"Why did what happen?"

"Why was he after her? You can't tell me it's because she's one of a hundred different stray people sent out to all different places in the hopes of preserving a planet. Especially when that planet isn't yet destroyed. Why worry about her when there are so many others like her?"

He stared at me, saying nothing. "I know you know something we don't," I pressed. "Who was he and why does he want her so bad?"

He sighed and leaned back. "Zuri's planet has already been destroyed. But I don't want her to know that yet. She was one of two people who actually made it off the planet. The others were caught trying to escape and killed."

I stared at him. "Two people?" I questioned, trying to comprehend that. It was like considering that everyone in the world was suddenly gone except for me and him, and we were on opposite ends of the universe.

"The other person was one of her father's advisors. We don't know where he is, or have any proof that he's alive. Zuri may very well be the very last of her species."

The seriousness of his words struck me. "That being the case, they want her dead."

I thought for a moment. "Why?" I finally asked. "If she can't reproduce, what does it matter?"

"That's why Earth was chosen as her place to escape to. Chances are she can reproduce. Her species is enough like humans to where she could more than likely have a child with a human man. And for that matter, it wouldn't be difficult for us to breed a few test-tube babies from her seed. When she's old enough, of course."

"When will that be?" I mumbled.

"A few years at least. In that respect, they are different from us. She won't be capable of getting pregnant until she's at least 23 or 24. So it's rather important that we keep her alive until then."

I swallowed hard. "Does J know all this?"

"No. But I intend to tell him. I just found out not too long ago myself."

I ran my fingers through my hair. "Where is J?"

"Last door on the right in hall B. He's on a lot of pain meds, though. If he is conscious, he's probably not going to respond. Or remember that you were there."

"That's okay," I sighed. "I don't need him to. He'd probably just get pissed off at me anyways."

"For what?"

I shrugged. "Who knows. He'd find something."

"You really don't like him, do you?"

I looked away. "It's not that. He just… really frustrates me," I confessed. "It's like he hates me and I can't figure out if it's more because I'm younger than him and he feels he has to take responsibility for me or if it's just because I'm female. I kinda get the idea it's a little bit of both."

K said nothing. I sighed. "I'm gonna go," I mumbled.

He nodded. "Be careful out there."

I walked out of the office. The room was easy to find, and unlocked. I slipped inside quietly. It was dark, lit only by the light from an adjoining room. J was lying on a bed with white sheets.

"Hey," I called quietly. "Are you awake?"

He moaned in reply and I closed the door behind me. "How do you feel?" I asked gently.

"Dead," he answered. I smiled as I sat down on the edge of the bed. "How's Zuri?" he slurred.

"Better than you."

"That's not hard."

For once, his voice didn't have that harsh bite to it. "K says she's a little shaken up, but she's okay," I whispered.

"Why are you here?" he slurred. It wasn't a threat. He sounded curious.

"I wanted to see how you were doing."

"You didn't have to do that."

"I know, but I was worried."

I could tell he was drugged by the way he was talking. He was open to conversation, and he was being nice on top of that. "You know, you hit that guy's gun perfectly," I told him. "Don't know if anyone's told you that. But I figured that was what you were aiming at." I smiled as I remembered it. "You should've seen the look on his face. He was so shocked."

J opened his eyes and looked at me. The light reflected off of them and I felt them move over me, suddenly self-conscious. "I don't believe you that you're only 13," he informed me.

I smiled. "Well, believe it. Because it's true."

"You're too old to be 13."

I clasped my hands in my lap. "And here I thought you saw me as some annoying little sister," I reminded him.

"I thought you would be."

"But you don't now?"

He closed his eyes. "You think on your feet. I like that. You could learn things."

"So does that mean you're not going to be so mean to me anymore?" I joked.

"I'm not your friend," he repeated.

I sighed. He wasn't drugged enough to forget how mean he was. "Why do you hate me?" I questioned. "What is it that I did to make you hate me so much? It's not like I went running after this job, J. And I never meant to get in your way."

"You make me nervous," he confessed. I stared at him, shocked at his honesty, as he closed his eyes.

"What?"

"Not just you. All women do. And some men, too."

"Why?"

"Because I know how I'm supposed to act, and how they expect me to act, and I can't do it."

I thought about that for a moment. "You think I expect you to act a certain way?" I questioned.

"People expect normalcy. They don't expect me to not feel things that are normal to feel."

"Like attraction?" I questioned. "Is that what you mean?"

"Exactly."

"You don't feel attraction to women? Are you gay? Because that's just another..."

He laughed cynically. "No, I'm not gay."

I stared, confused. "You just don't feel anything?"

He sighed deeply. "I have this girlfriend. Lexi. She's Agent L, but she doesn't like being called that. I don't know what she did that got her in here but she's here. She's taught me a lot about the way women think."

"You can't stereotype women based on one experience," I defended.

"It isn't just one experience, it's a lot of them."

"You get hurt easily? In a relationship?" I realized what I'd said after I said it. I was pushing him. And I didn't want to pry. But at the same time, I knew he'd never be this honest with me again.

"I've never had a relationship," he whispered.

"You said you have a girlfriend."

"I don't sleep with her."

"So? That doesn't mean you don't have a relationship with her."

"She hates that I won't. Lots of mind games. Sometimes I think she's right."

"About what?"

"I don't love her because I won't give in."

"That's not necessarily true," I assured him.

"Not necessarily, but I think it is in this case," he slurred, tripping over his tongue. "I don't think I love her. I know I don't trust her."

"If she's only in it for the sex, I can't say I would trust her either."

He was quiet for a moment. "She doesn't know about me," he whispered. "And I don't want to tell her. She thinks it's me that she feels."

I tried to make sense of his words. "What do you mean?"

"When she kisses me. But it's not me. It's him. And so I hate it when she tells me it's so good."

I stared at him. "What do you mean it's not you?"

"Well, it is me," he corrected. "But it's not because of me. It's because of him. And I'm just doing what I'm supposed to. But she doesn't know that. And I can't tell her."

He wasn't making any sense. "You think she compares you to an old boyfriend?" I guessed. "That she doesn't realize you're not the same guy?"

He sighed. "No. Never mind. I don't want to talk about it."

I glanced at my watch. I had to get going or I was going to be late to class. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to pry." I stood up. "I've gotta get to school. I hope you feel better."

"Sara," he called as I approached the door.

I turned and looked at him, somewhat surprised by the name he'd chosen to use. "Yeah?"

"I don't hate you," he confessed. "I just don't know you. But I'm sorry if I've been a jackass these past few days."

I smiled. "You're forgiven."

I walked out of the room knowing he probably wouldn't remember a thing he'd just told me. But at the same time, it had given me new insight. I decided to try again, from the beginning, to be nice.