By Allegra
(See Part One for disclaimers etc.) Please nourish the feedback monster.
CHAPTER THREE : AN ANGEL TO THE SKIES
"Max, we can't keep meeting like this." Liz smiled, coyly, as her boyfriend pulled her back into the eraser room for the third time that day. He ignored her feeble protest and continued nuzzling her neck. Liz succumbed for a moment before pushing him away from her. "Max!"
"What?"
"I've got an extra credit meeting thing with Mr. Kadinsky in two minutes."
Max all but ignored the remonstration, resuming his playful kissing along her neck. Liz giggled. She hadn't seen Max so open in his affection towards her for an age. There had always been some big, angry cloud hovering just beyond Max's grip, a constant distracting force between the two adolescent lovers. For the first time in months, Liz felt like any ordinary teenager making out with her boyfriend. It was strange, really, considering that the horizon was anything but clear right now. There were huge dust clouds hurtling towards Roswell in the form of this CEO group and it was only a matter of time before matters became too serious to avoid any longer.
Swiping aside the little voice of reason and pessimism, Liz gripped Max round the back of his neck and kissed him deeply. "There," she uttered as she pulled away. "That's a Parker super-smacker. It should last until at least last period. I'll see you later." Extricating her fingers from between Max's own, Liz stepped out into the corridor and straightened her clothes for the umpteenth time since she left home.
Isabel took a huge bite from the greasy burger in her hand, watching the repulsive oily fat dribble down her perfectly manicured fingers. She couldn't remember the last time she had eaten a real beef burger and not just picked at the fries. Ever since her attempted apology to Alex, she had just felt worse about herself than before she had seen him. Instead of feeling the satisfaction of extending the olive branch, she was starting to feel surges of self-loathing over what she had done. Now, Isabel had reached the epitome of hatred, turning against herself. She would eat this horrible, disgusting burger with all its fat and dead animal parts; she would turn herself into the fat, ugly, hideous witch she deserved to be for what Alex had suffered.
Since speaking to Maria the previous day, Isabel had found herself unable to shake an unsettling notion from her brain. Apart from the Tabasco sauce situation and the inevitable powers, she had never believed the whole 'aliens are cold and cruel' spiel which was so commonly wheeled out at the UFO Centre and on TV. It was true that both Liz and Maria had accused the threesome of being cold and aloof, but that had been a purposeful attempt to avoid drawing unnecessary attention to themselves. It had never come easily to Isabel to stay out of the limelight, to knock back opportunities to make friends or feel like she fitted in. If anything, she found it the hardest out of the three. Max was naturally quiet and introverted while Michael had never been given any reason to trust anyone outside the pod unit. There were thousand of foster kids just like him, defensive and even mean, a product of things they have or haven't seen - hurt, love.
Now, though, Isabel was confronted with new evidence. Both she and Michael had reacted in exactly the same way towards their respective partners. Perhaps the tales did hold some water after all. Maria was suffering just like Alex and yet neither one deserved that kind of cruelty. Okay, so everyone feels constricted and claustrophobic in any relationship at some point. It is inevitable when you spend so much time in one person's company. Lovers lash out at one another out of frustration, not hate. This argument could have happened between any couple in Roswell or anywhere else in the world for that matter. Isabel had even picked up the pieces with her cheerleader friends. Why should she feel like she and Michael were special somehow? Deep down, Isabel knew why. No matter how much she felt for Alex or how much he was there for her, she knew it would never amount to anything. What guy could put up with the pressure of living with an alien for the rest of his life? Who even knew how long Isabel's life would be in relation to his anyway?
The point was that she didn't need Alex, she never had. He was a distraction, a convention of teenage life. He was just another part of the real 'earth' life or a character in the puppet show Isabel, Max and Michael played their role in. But to Alex, it was all very different. He saw a girlfriend whom he loved, someone who was more than just an alien novelty. It had taken Isabel a long time to realise it, but she had grown to accept it. Alex truly cared for her, unconditionally. How could they ever be together, happily?
So, when all the chips were down, the public image of alien life was sort of true. People had just caught hold of the wrong end of the stick. It wasn't that aliens were cold and cruel; they just didn't know how to function on the level humans needed to see. It wasn't in them. It was asking the impossible.
"Liz, you're an A-grade student. Now, I don't want to knock a good thing but sometimes I wonder why extra credit is so important to you."
Liz served up her famous Parker-waitress 'Have a nice day' smile and shoved the borrowed textbook into her bag. "Well, I guess that's what keeps me in the top percentage, Mr. Kadinsky."
The teacher smiled, "Yeah, well don't give me too much work, Miss Parker. I don't want to spend my vacation coming up with extra projects for you. Good luck."
"Thank you." Liz was just getting up to leave when there was a sharp knock at the door.
Mr. Kadinsky glanced up at the wall clock, wondering if he had overrun. "Come in."
Mrs. Amos, the school secretary, poked her head round the door, a look of sheer relief crossing her round face. "Oh, thank goodness you are here, Liz. Sorry to interrupt you, Mr. Kadinsky. Could I borrow Liz for a moment?"
"Of course. We're done here, right, Liz?" Liz nodded, already suspicious. She had seen that look on people's faces before and it usually involved her providing some kind of explanation for events or her friends' whereabouts.
"Thank you, Mr. Kadinsky," she quickly said as she followed Mrs. Amos out of the office.
Mrs. Amos walked remarkably quickly for someone of her diminutive stature. She had thick legs with feet tucked neatly into high heels which always looked several sizes too small. Liz had to take an occasional skip just to keep up with her. Her heart was already beating nineteen to the dozen and she knew it had nothing to do with the pace. "What's going on, Mrs. Amos?"
"Mrs. DeLuca is on the telephone. Apparently her daughter, Maria, hasn't been home since yesterday. She told me to find you. Are you two good friends?"
Liz nodded, wishing she wasn't being forced into this situation yet another time. She would have Maria's guts for garters when she caught up with her.
Mrs. Amos misread the expression on the teenager's face and quickly added, "I'm sure everything's just fine, dear. I wouldn't fret yourself."
By the time they reached the office, Liz's mind was swimming with possible explanations she could offer Mrs. DeLuca to cover Maria's back at least until this evening. Chances are that one of the gang knew where she was and had just failed to pass the information onto Liz. Typical, she thought.
Mrs. Amos suddenly broke into a glorious smile as if the person at the other end of the phone could see her face. "Sorry to keep you waiting, Mrs. DeLuca. I've found Liz Parker for you. I'll just hand you over."
Liz took the phone confidently, hoping her body language might be reflected in the words she said, that they might ooze confidence and reassurance. "Hey, Mrs. DeLuca..." Her welcome was quickly overridden by a torrent of concerned abuse. "Mrs. DeLuca, I'm really sorry, I haven't seen Maria since last night. I thought maybe she was sick today."
"You mean you have no idea where my daughter is? Liz, you're her best friend but I'm her mother. Please don't cover for her. Just tell me if she's safe."
Liz turned away from the desk where Mrs. Amos was trying desperately hard to hide her curiosity from beneath her half-moon spectacles. Lowering her voice, Liz continued, "Mrs. DeLuca, if I knew where Maria was I'd come up with a better excuse than that I just don't know. You know, come to think of it, she and Michael had a row last night. Maybe she just needed some time to cool off or something. I could..."
"Time to cool off does not include school hours, Liz!"
"I know and I'll go look for her right after last period. I could try some of our usual hangouts. Michael or Isabel might know where she is."
"Fine, you do that. Sorry to be so snappy, Liz, but a mother worries about her only daughter."
Liz's face softened slightly at the tone of desperation and fear in the woman's voice. There were times when Maria's mother was like an extra nagging machine which she didn't need, but the tone of Mrs. DeLuca's voice was enough to soften her temper. "I know. I'll let you know as soon as I find her."
"Thank you, Liz. You're a good girl." There was a click and the phone went dead. Liz handed the receiver back to Mrs. Amos and ducked out of the office, narrowly avoiding the swell of questions she could sense barely contained in the gossipy secretary.
Liz avoided Max's lovelorn gaze throughout last period, her mind suddenly occupied with speculation about where Maria might have holed up for the entire day. It took a lot to knock a DeLuca down but the more Liz pondered the puzzle, the more her mind wandered back to one person with the power to really piss her off. Shrugging off her boyfriend's playful attempts at puppy love antics on the way out of class, Liz quickly made her way to the carpentry room down the hall.
"Michael." The owner of the scruffy hair lifted his goggles, wiping sweat and dust from his face.
"Hi, Liz." He gave her his traditional expression of wariness and faint disinterest. Liz felt herself prickle with annoyance. When times got rough, her loyalty would always lie with Maria and, where Mr. Guerin was involved, she had little patience with him. No matter what she told herself, if Max could make the effort to extend some kindness and sensitivity, Michael must be capable of it too, underneath his tough, indifferent veneer.
Crossing her arms tightly over her chest, Liz sharply asked, "Did you know Maria is missing?"
Michael shifted uncomfortably, his dark eyes roving anywhere but on Liz's face. She hated that. There were times when he was so transparent it made Liz want to hit him for being so mean. "No."
"Didn't you wonder why she wasn't in school?"
"I wasn't aware one day off school was a cause for concern." He all but mumbled the words as he fiddled distractedly with the piece of wood he had been working on, his fingers moving up and down the splintered edge with calm precision.
Liz fought against the urge to shout at him for being such a bastard. She didn't know what was troubling Maria exactly but, from the vibes she was getting off Michael, he did.
"Don't play innocent with me, Michael. I know you and Maria had a fight last night and it doesn't take a genius to put two and two together."
Michael's glare snapped back at her with guilty defiance. "So?"
"So, 'fess up. What did you say to her?"
Michael licked his lips and shrugged, "I didn't say anything. I don't know why you're so worried."
Liz's temper flared, unwittingly. "You don't know why I'm so worried?! Let me give you a clue. Maria and I have been friends since we were, like, tiny. She means more to me than nearly everyone else in my life. Her mother was on the phone to me earlier today worried sick about where her daughter is. If you cared about Maria half as much as either of us, then you'd be just as concerned." Liz registered the glimmer of regret as it tinged Michael's expression. She went in for the kill. "Maybe Maria was right though, maybe you don't care for her after all, maybe you are just the cold..."
"Fine, fine, we fought, okay?!"
Liz felt a surge of relief wash over her. She had figured as much but she couldn't be sure until she had Michael's word for it. There had been a part of her which was so frightened that there hadn't been any quarrel and Maria's disappearance was linked to something much more sinister.
"Did this have anything to do with what she said at the town meeting the other night?"
Michael scratched absently at the back of his head, feigning indifference. "Yeah, a little. We just... she said some things and I said some things..." Liz could see that the poor guy was squirming. She didn't need the details, just the motivation for doing a runner. "Was it enough to make her bolt?" She looked at Michael's face, expectantly. Was it too much to ask for him to have any idea how much he had hurt his girlfriend?
"Maybe. I don't know, Liz. You know what Maria's like. I never know what goes on in her head."
"Fine, thanks." Liz marched to the door. She had to find Maria and quickly, before Mrs. DeLuca threw an absolute fit and had the police out.
Maria rummaged through her backpack, searching frantically for the vial of soothing oil she was sure she had put somewhere. For the first time in ages, she really felt like she wouldn't be able to take another step forward without some kind of support. Maria cursed herself for being so reliant on the little routine fixes she constructed for herself throughout the day. If she ever managed to get herself inside that damned place, they might impose a ton of rules on her and she'd never see her aromatherapy oils again.
She had been two steps ahead of herself all the way but was starting to have second thoughts about how wise it was to leave her mom's car at home. The idea was for no one to find her until she had been given a chance to achieve what she had set out to do. The drawback of this was hitching a ride into the middle of the desert with some sleazy long-haul truck driver who spent the entire journey make lewd comments and trying to get an eyeful of the teenager's legs beneath her light summer skirt.
Finally, she had escaped his vile clutches and was left to confront the treacherous journey away from the highway. Her map told her she had been heading in the right direction but, as the midday heat strengthened its hold on the dry ground, Maria began to feel increasingly worried about what she was doing here. For all she knew, her map reading skills could be completely off kilter and she was walking mindlessly deeper into the dangerous, uninhabited territory of the desert region. Maria morbidly entertained the idea of what she might look like as a set of bleached bones slowly picked apart by scavenging birds and vultures. She wondered which part of her would be last to go - the leather shoes or her blonde hair? Who knew what the creatures out here would take a fancy to.
"Get a grip, Maria," she murmured to herself as she wiped beads of sweat from her forehead. Finally, she felt something small and glass hit her hand and she pulled the cedar oil from her bag with an exclamation of triumph. Maria closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, trying vainly to lose herself in the sweet scent of forests and peaceful tranquillity. Somehow, instead of envisaging natural beauty, the teenager found herself imagining her room at home. The cedar scent lingered in her bedroom, her clothes and even her locker at school. It conjured up images of all the home comforts which made her feel secure again. Yet, they were distant from her now and she had to keep going. Maria had made a promise to herself that she was going to do this, no matter what. Adjusting her hat and sunglasses against the glaring sun's rays, the small figure continued her trek into the unforgiving wilderness.
"Max, I can't find her." Liz gripped the phone tightly, her nerves bunching in a futile gesture of courage. She knew there was little hope in asking anyone else where her best friend might be but, right now, Liz really needed to hear a comforting voice.
"Do you want me to come over? We could take the jeep somewhere, see if we can track her down."
Liz suddenly felt an overwhelming desire to cry. She knew Maria hadn't been missing long but the simple question crushed her. The teenager was so used to being in control, to having a solution or possible way forward. Suddenly, Liz had no idea what she was supposed to say. Part of her wanted to go with Max but another part of her thought Maria might come to the Crashdown or something. Liz was so afraid of missing her that she couldn't think of a single thing to do. "I don't know, Max. What if she comes back and I'm not here?"
Hearing the flustered tone in his girlfriend's voice, Max calmly offered, "Well, you stay put and I'll get Isabel and Michael to help me look further afield."
Liz was torn between half relief and the desperate desire to see Max for herself, to feel his reassuring arms around her. No matter where she was or what the predicament, Max had a way of making everything seem all right again. Still, right now she needed to focus her energy on finding Maria and keeping Mrs. DeLuca from going out of her mind.
"Thanks, Max. Just...be careful."
Max felt the glimmer of a smile pass across his lips at the ever-present concern Liz showed for him. "I will. Bye."
Maria felt like she'd been walking forever and every step forward felt like a hundred. The sun had moved from centre stage but it's rays were no less vicious. The burning light fell on her pale skin, bathing her in fever. Stopping, Maria couldn't resist swallowing back the last of her water. She wasn't going to make it much further unless a knight in shining armour appeared at her side. Weakly dragging herself deeper and deeper into the desert, Maria knew she should have found this place hours ago. Even if she were a few miles out, the building would have shown up like a beacon on the flat, arid landscape.
Self-pity was gradually consumed by light-headedness and Maria found it increasingly difficult to concentrate on the scrubby path ahead of her. The scattered outcrops of hardy plants undulated before her eyes and the horizon became lost in waves of heat until the teenager couldn't be sure whether she was still following the same path or wandering in a haze further and further away from her goal.
Maria's feet mechanically stumbled on, occasionally betraying her, until finally she fell to the ground, swallowing a mouthful of filthy, desert sand. Coughing and spluttering, she pushed herself weakly to her knees. God, it felt like hours since she had first started walking. Looking at her watch, Maria could see nothing but a wavy clock face with drooping hands which moved first one way then another, never still. She wiped angrily at the tears and sweat gathering in her vision. Still, it did no good. Maria looked up to survey the surroundings and her shoulders heaved with sobs when she found nothing but the cracked, dry sand all the way to the horizon.
Dragging her backpack into place, Maria made one final effort to get to her feet. She had barely gone five paces before she fell once more. Like a rag doll, her limbs refused to obey her. Maria took a ragged gasp through fresh tears and her voice was barely a whisper, "God, what have I done? Stupid..." All will left her and the cruel glare of the day-star slowly glimmered before her eyes, first changing from warm yellow to bright white before being finally absorbed by the black dots in its midst. Maria saw and heard no more.
"What's up, Maxwell?" Michael enquired through a mouthful of banana. Max made no attempt to enter the apartment."Michael, Maria's still missing."
As if unable to pre-empt his feelings and keep them in check, Max saw a look of horror flood his friend's face before Michael composed himself again. "What about Liz? I thought she'd know where to look."
"She's tried everywhere Maria might normally go. Are you coming?"
Michael tossed the remainder of his banana on the counter and grabbed his jacket, following his friend out to the jeep where Isabel was already waiting. Max started the car and skidded from the kerb. No one spoke until they reached the mall and dropped Isabel off. She was going to search the more urban areas while the boys tried further afield.
Michael suggested, "We should try that CEO place outside town. Maybe she went there."
Max braced himself for impact, "Liz mentioned something about you two fighting. Do you really think she'd go there?"
Michael looked accusingly at his friend. "It was nothing, all right."
"Nothing enough for her to do a runner?"
Michael glared back at Max. "I don't know, all right! I don't know what would make Maria do a runner just like I don't know what she'd like for her birthday or why she has to spend an hour each morning on her hair! I don't know!"
Max scrutinised Michael's face for a moment. "Okay, sorry I asked. Let's head out to the CEO first then."
Neither said anything for the remainder of the journey. Without a car of his own, Michael rarely had the pleasure of feeling the gentle wind against his face, staring up at the sky from which he had come in 1947. Strange to think how he had been part of a crash, one of only a handful of accidents in the universe, the small end of the odds. Somehow Michael had drawn the short straw ever since he landed on this planet - a mistake from the beginning of his life. Did karma count all across the universe? Would he be as unhappy back home as he was here?
Even the small moments of pleasure and goodness in his world seemed to fall apart. He couldn't make anything work - family, friends, Maria. It all seemed to slip through his fingers through no one's fault but his own. Just when there was a chance at happiness, he had to play a wild card, back to playing solitaire. The more questions Max and Liz asked about his argument with Maria, the angrier Michael reactions became. To everyone else, it was just another way of shirking responsibility, but to Michael, it was a defence against the things he knew no one could alter except himself. He hadn't stopped thinking about Maria since the previous night and the more he thought, the stronger his self-loathing became. She had just been trying to help in a typical Maria kind of way but he had rebuffed her as if she meant nothing to him. He never even knew who he was trying to protect, himself, her, Max and Isabel. Instead of affection, he had poured hatred into every word and now nobody could undo it but him. Talking about just made him even more furious at himself for digging himself another hole from which he must clamber. No matter how his friends perceived him, Michael knew that he had to find Maria because he cared, more than he wanted to admit.
"We're here." Max's jeep drew to a halt outside a featureless white building resting somewhere a few miles off the dusty highway outside Roswell. He drew a deep breath. It sent a shiver up his spine seeing the clinical entrance, a flashing reminder of how he had suffered in a place like this. He flinched at the memory and the irony that what these freaks were looking for were about to come knocking on their front door.
Michael climbed out of the jeep, "Let's go." Oblivious to Max's discomfort in this place, he strode up to the main door and pressed the buzzer. A second later a tinny, distant voice queried over the intercom, "Yes?"
"Uh, hi, we're from Roswell. We were just out..."
An impatient voice interjected, "What do you want?"
Max took over. "A friend of ours has gone missing and we wanted to check the town vicinity before bringing the police in on the matter."
There was silence for a moment before the voice returned, "There'll be someone down in just a moment."
The two teenagers waited patiently; Max kicked the dirt absently, trying to keep his cool. The last thing they needed was for him to draw unnecessary attention to them. A moment later, a figure appeared at the glass door. He looked the complete opposite of what either boy had expected, smiling and unthreatening. "It's a hot day to be driving through the desert in a soft top. Come on inside for a moment."
Max hovered uncertainly on the threshold. He didn't want to be any closer to these people than he had to. It was as if he expected the building to be wired for extraterrestrial frequencies or something, ready to set off alarms the second he set foot inside. To his relief, his imagination did a better job than the CEO.
The man led them to one of the white leather sofas in the lobby and courteously provided each of his guests with a welcomed glass of cold water before extending a hand to shake. "Bob Silva."
Neither Max nor Michael had expected a long enough conversation to warrant exchanging names and Max floundered for a second to think of a name, any name which he could adopt. "Bill and this is David."
Bob eyed them closely as if measuring them up against some internal chart. Finally, he said, "I'm sorry if I was short with you over the intercom. Were you at our meeting the other day?"
Michael casually said, "I was working, but word gets around."
Bob smiled, "Well, you missed out on a treat, David." He placed deliberate emphasis on the name, his eyes twinkling as if he could see right through their disguise but was simply playing along. "Anyway, our spokesman, Theodore Preston, kindly offered to talk to anyone who cared to show up here and enlighten them." He rolled his eyes then laughed. "Don't get me wrong, Theodore's a great man, a fabulous speaker, but after the first twenty angry, accusing citizens of Roswell came banging on the door, you can understand us being less than enthusiastic about hearing that buzzer go off." He fluttered his hand nonchalantly in front of his face. "Anyway, what is it we can be of service for?"
Michael said nothing. He was staring intently at their host and Max couldn't be sure if he was just being rude or whether he truly had no idea what he was doing. Mr. Frank's curious gaze lingered on Michael for a moment before turning to Max when he stepped in to cover the uncomfortable silence. "A friend of ours has been missing since yesterday. She's still in school and her mother is worried to death, not to mention her friends. We were just wondering if anyone had been out this way in the past twenty-four hours."
"I'm afraid I can't help you, gentlemen. Perhaps if you had a picture I could look out at dinner tonight. We get people wandering into the CEO from all sorts of different backgrounds. We don't ask any questions. The past is not important to us. I don't believe any Roswell folk have joined our ranks yet but I can certainly look for your little friend. Do you have a picture of her?"
Max looked to Michael. He was Maria's boyfriend, after all. Michael was still lost, staring vacantly at the man's face as if he himself were some kind of extraterrestrial. "Michael?" Max enquired loudly.
Michael all but jumped out of his skin, "What?"
"Do you have a photo of Maria?"
"No. No, I don't."
The man looked a little disappointed and Max didn't like the vibes he was getting off him. It was as if he had been hoping for a little eye candy to keep in his bottom drawer rather than as a helpful resource for finding Maria. "Oh. Well, perhaps you could describe..." He waved his hands in the pair's direction as if waiting for a prompt as to the girl's name.
Max didn't like the idea of telling him anything but they needed to find Maria and the more people that knew it the better. "Maria DeLuca."
"...Maria for me," he concluded.
Max wasn't sure if it was just the paranoia feeding into him or whether the threat was actually there but suddenly he didn't feel like letting Mr. Frank in on anything else about their group. Michael was acting weirdly as well which never boded well for keeping cool. In the milliseconds which separated natural silence from something more ominous, Max contemplated how to deal with this situation. On the one hand, they really needed to find Maria, but deep inside his mind was telling him the CEO weren't the ones who would help. He tried to sound as vague as possible. "Well, she's about sixteen, but then I guess she looks a lot older than that, right Michael?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Uh, she's got kind of strawberry blonde hair and blue eyes...I can't think what else really."
Silva surveyed Max's face as if convinced that he was hiding information. Max's heart was beating nineteen to the dozen under the man's steely stare. He felt transparent. Finally, Silva's gaze shifted to the clock above their heads. "Well, I suppose I should be grateful we didn't pitch ourselves in California or every girl I pass would be a possible candidate. Still, I'll be sure to let you know if we find your friend. Would you care to leave a number where I could contact you?"
Max replied, almost too quickly, "Um, I guess the Roswell sheriff station would be best really."
"I thought you didn't want the police involved."
Max nodded, "Well, if she doesn't get back to Roswell by this evening, her mother will contact Sheriff Valenti anyway."
Mr. Silva looked from one teenager to the other. It was as if he was planning his next move, watching them for some sign of...Max couldn't guess what. Standing up uneasily, Max offered his hand to shake. "Thank you, Mr. Frank. Sorry to have bothered you."
Silva's eyes flitted over the extended hand and shook it quickly before looking to Michael and offering his hand to the reticent teenager. "It was nice to meet you, David."
Michael made no move to accept it and raised his eyebrows. "Yeah, ditto." Immune to the social niceties, he headed for the door without so much as a look back. For once, Max was grateful for his friend's interpersonal shortcomings and, managing another courteous smile, pushed the door open and stepped back out into the burning sunshine.
Isabel flicked absently through the racks of clothes, her eyes glazed with indifference. Usually, a trip to the mall was all she needed to get her energy juices pumping again but today her mind just couldn't make the leap from Alex Whitman to the latest fashion in sweaters. It was going to take a lot more than shopping to fix the way she was feeling and the worst part was that Isabel knew it was entirely out of her hands now. She had tried apologising to him and he had all but thrown it back in her face. For the first time in her life, she was going to have to sit back and wait for him to come to her. No matter which way she looked at it, Isabel knew that only time would tell if she had wounded Alex beyond redemption.
"Can I help you?" The singsong voice of the shop assistant lurched Isabel into the present with a jolt.
"Uh, yeah. Do you have this top in blue?"
"We sure do. What size?" Isabel mumbled the details and meekly followed the assistant to the changing rooms. It was unlike her to be pushed around by anyone where fashion was concerned, but today was different and before she knew it, Isabel was leaving the shop with her wallet $30 lighter and a sweater to wear in the 105 degree heat.
Making her way wearily to the food court, she heard a familiar laugh booming out behind her. She turned to the corner reigned by Dairy Queen and Isabel's heart lurched when she saw the owner of that laugh. Alex. The last person on earth she wanted to talk to but yet the only person she could think about. At first, he didn't seem to see her but a quick nudge in his ribs from one of his friends soon brought Isabel to his attention. The muscles in his face gradually loosened from a smile to something resembling indifference. But Isabel could still see deeper, she could see the hurt in his face and ducked her head, ashamed of what she had done.
She moved swiftly away from the group, towards the Coffee Bean situated a good distance from the Dairy Queen. Isabel quickly ordered herself a strong espresso and seated herself behind a huge plant, hoping the saying 'out of sight, out of mind' would prove itself to be true.
Maria felt like she was floating on a cloud. Her body seemed weightless, her nerves immune to all sensations, like running her hand through a powder puff. She knew there should be something there but her fingertips couldn't feel a thing. Her mind was a fog of indifferent, calm and at peace. A moment ago she hadn't even been thinking, so what did this mean? Was she dead? Maria's brain reached randomly for recent thoughts, trying to piece together an image of what she had been doing and find an explanation for this out-of-body experience. Like a bullet tearing through her, the memories came flooding back. She had been in the desert, desperately wandering on a path which only wended further and further into the desert. Maria couldn't remember finding sanctuary anywhere. Could it be possible that she had died there? Or that she was still lying in the heat of the afternoon sun?
A cool cloth draped over her forehead awakened her sluggish senses and Maria felt her breathing quicken with concern and invigoration. Hands gently adjusted bedclothes around her body and the teenager could hear the smooth sound of water being poured into a glass beside her. A moment later, she heard the door shut. Maria lay still for a moment then slowly slid her eyes open, quickly taking stock of the room and its lack of occupants. The walls were whitewashed and, apart from the bed, every other piece of furniture appeared to be made from glass - the side table, the cabinets on the walls. From the items inside, Maria guessed this must be some kind of medical wing, but it was unlike any facility she had ever seen. It lacked all the usual rudiments of the local hospital but was too well equipped to be anyone's home. She felt a prickling along her spine as she considered the possibility that she had been captured by some psycho who had spent years building the perfect torture chamber. Perhaps she had been found near his lair, far from civilisation where her screams would never be heard.
All but leaping from the bed, Maria began searching frantically for something to attack her guard with. It was only then that she realised someone had undressed her, leaving her with only her underwear and a short shift dress to preserve her modesty. "God," was all she could utter as she knelt to peer under the bed, hoping to find the rest of her garments.
It was in this position, with her rear end stuck in the air, that Maria met her 'gaolers'.
"Maria DeLuca?"
Maria lifted her head with shock and promptly bashed her head on the bed frame. Wincing, she backed out as graciously as the situation allowed her. Trying to calm her fiercely beating heart, Maria tried to keep her cool. Whoever this crazy person was, she was going to have to play along with them for a while. The feisty, stoic DeLuca began to rear her head once more. Not only did she have to get out of this dump, but she was also on a mission. Her boyfriend's future might rest on the discoveries Maria made at the CEO headquarters.
She was just about to answer her name in reflex reaction when the teen remembered everything she had preparing for. This trek into the desert hadn't exactly been unplanned. Sure, the passing out in the midday heat had been an added bonus but Maria had intended this to be an undercover mission. She had to keep her cool but come up with an alternative name pretty damn fast.
"What?" was the best she could muster as she whirled around.
The woman who faced her was a sinewy creature with thin blonde hair which hung lankly against her shoulders. She had a small nose which looked as if it would have a propensity for twitching. Her diluted blue eyes scanned Maria with birdlike interest, a vulnerable animal weighing up the strengths of its larger predator. Somehow, Maria found the woman intensely irritating without having exchanged more than a few words with her.
Gathering her wits, she feigned disorientation. "Uh, my name is Cathy, Cathy...Bateman."
The woman continued to stare, making Maria feel uncomfortable. She had only just made it inside the gates of the CEO and it felt as if her cover had already been blown. "Well...Cathy, how are you feeling?"
"I'm still feeling a little shaky. Actually, for a moment there, I almost forgot what had happened," Maria replied. She attempted a smile which was met frostily.
"Since you are well enough to get up, you can get dressed. Mr. Preston and Mr. Silva would like to speak to you."
Maria felt the nerves creeping back into her stomach. She was trapped here now and nobody knew where she had gone. They were a weird cult and might do anything to her. Now she was meeting with the chief freaks and she hadn't even had time to design her game plan.
Mustering up some composure, she calmly smiled, "Do I get some clothes for the occasion?"
"Here." Maria was handed some dubious looking lightweight material which unfolded to reveal a V-necked T-shirt and drawstring trousers which closely resembled hospital scrubs. The woman hovered for a moment as if planning on watching her undress, before catching Maria's reproachful eye. "I'll wait outside."
Just five more minutes, thought Liz as she pulled another order through the hatch. The time had passed like an age, as it always did when Liz was worrying. There was nothing worse than having to plaster a superficial smile across her face while her insides were turning over on themselves with worry about what was happening with Max. It was always something to do with Max. That was the only certainty in her life right now. If there were anything to be worried about, it would involve her boyfriend. Still, that was all part and parcel of getting involved with another species.
After the interminable five minutes had passed, she flung off her alien headband with disdain, announcing, "I'm off." Ignoring her father's comment that the next shift waitress hadn't turned up yet, Liz slipped into the backroom and headed upstairs to get changed before Max arrived. She could feel the grease on her skin and hair. Glancing at her watch, Liz figured she had enough time for a quick shower before meeting him outside the UFO Centre.
"Max!" The brooding young man turned to see Michael marching purposefully towards him. Max tried to contain his surprise, considering he had only just left his friend at his home and was looking forward to a quiet evening with Liz. As per usual, Michael was not too quick on the uptake. "You wanna come to the cinema with me?"
Max stared at him in disbelief. "Michael, I already told you I was meeting Liz."
"Yeah, but I figured she could tag along, too."
"How can you go to the movies when Maria is still missing? Aren't you even the slightest bit worried about what's happened to her?" Max couldn't hide his incredulity at Michael's reaction. Sometimes he knew Maria could overstate what an inattentive boyfriend he was at times but this was beyond Max's comprehension.
Michael snapped back, "What am I supposed to do, Maxwell? Am I supposed to sit around soulfully like you do when Liz isn't around? I can't do anything so I'm occupying myself. What's so wrong about that?"
Max softened a little. He knew Michael could be insensitive sometimes but often it was just a cover for how hurt he was really feeling. "Maybe you're right, but Liz and I wanted tonight to ourselves."
Michael nodded, bluntly. "Fine. I'll see you later."
As if in perfect synchronisation, just as Michael rounded the corner onto Mayberry Street, Max caught sight of Liz coming his way. She looked gorgeous and pristine, as always, and he could feel his own fingers itching to touch her. Max inwardly chastised himself. Liz was worried out of her mind about Maria and he knew he should be, too. Still, he couldn't resist a gentle kiss on her lips when she was in his grasp.
She responded for a moment before brushing him aside. "Did you find anything?"
"No. I'm sorry." The words came out a millisecond too quickly, somehow lacking in sincerity. Max could see that Liz was struggling with the news. Her eyes searched his face for a moment as if unable to digest what he said, still waiting for the answer to her question. "But we've still got plenty of places to try." It was small comfort to a girl who had lost her best friend in what was, considering their lifestyle, likely to be dangerous circumstances. Max drew her towards him and Liz didn't resist him.
She leaned her head wearily against his chest, her eyes roaming vacantly across the shadows on the other side of the street. "What are we going to do, Max?"
Max had been dreading that question just as much as Liz had been yearning to ask it. Ever since he had left the CEO with Michael, he had been racking his brains for some lead as to where Maria might have gone. He had come up empty handed. The only thought which repeatedly infiltrated his mind was the suspicious manner of Bob Silva. If Maria was inside, they were going to have to rescue her and that meant putting the whole group in danger. Max didn't like that prospect even a tiny bit.
"We'll think of something. We've got to."
Maria was escorted along scores of corridors, all made entirely of glass, mostly frosted so that adjacent rooms could not be seen. The whole complex seemed to be covered with random lines and numbers, as if someone had swiped a compass in huge arching curves along the floor and up half a wall, then further up written a calculation. It reminded Maria of her own maths book, full of scribblings and attempts at balancing an equation.
She was met at the door of one room by a face she recognised, that of the speaker from the town hall, Theodore Preston. His face showed none of the annoyance it had displayed that night under the rain of questions Maria had showered on him. She only hoped his memory of one face in a crowd was poor. Maria made no attempt to show any recognition on her part. This was an undercover mission, after all. Fortunately for her, either Mr. Preston's game plan was more complex than hers was or he had completely forgotten her already.
"Do come in." He gestured to his office with a sweeping hand and Maria stepped uncertainly into the large chamber. It was in keeping with the rest of building's interiors that she had seen. Huge windows lined the far side of the room with enviable views of the desert stretching into the distance. For a moment Maria was stunned by the beauty of the place but the sentiment quickly soured as she began to realise how isolated she had now become. She would be lucky to get a signal on her cell phone here and, while she was doing great on her own so far, it unsettled the teenager to think how far from home she had wandered without telling anyone. Suddenly, impressing Michael with her inside scoop didn't seem like the smartest idea she had ever cooked up.
"Can I offer you a drink?" Preston moved towards the drinks cabinet and opened a small refrigerator. "I'm afraid our new home has a few small details to be ironed out - in our case, it's the air conditioning."
"Just some water would do me fine." Maria was torn between the numbing thirst she had been feeling ever since she woke up and the desire to knock back a bottle of whiskey to calm her nerves.
Oblivious to the watchful stare of his companion, Theodore poured them both some drinks. "Yes, I should think you're mighty thirsty, young lady. Our resident doctor took the liberty of giving you a nutrient IV when you were brought in...otherwise I'd imagine you'd have a headache worth considering suicide over." Maria was a little taken aback by the analogy but chose to ignore it. Theodore handed her the water and moved towards a seat opposite her.
As he turned, Maria could smell the clean scent of fresh cotton and a slight aroma of sandalwood. His attire couldn't have been much more different to the hideous suit he had donned the other night. The combination of brown and mint had been replaced with light khaki trousers and a loose white shirt with bell sleeves. He wore a matching leather bracelet and pendant with green beads strung at intervals. His feet were bare and Maria couldn't help thinking this would have been a much better image to present to the folk of Roswell. An ageing hippie was infinitely preferable to the community than a raving lunatic who wore wool in the midday heat.
"How are you feeling now?"
Maria took a sip of water, "Much better. I should really thank whoever found me. They saved my life."
"Oh, I'll introduce you to your saviour later on if you'd like. Right now, would you mind answering a few questions for me?"
Maria hadn't really had time to gather her thoughts together and plan how she was going to deal with the situation. Her original plan had been to find the facility before knocking on their door. Her little accident in the desert had somewhat ruined that. "Of course not."
Mr. Preston gave a lopsided smile which Maria felt a little comforted by. She had run rings round this guy in the town hall. Who's to say she couldn't do it again? "I think we'd get off to a fine start if I knew your name."
"Cathy," Maria blurted out a little too quickly. "Cathy Bateman."
"Cathy." He repeated the word as if trying it on for size. "And what was a young woman like you doing roaming the desert alone and unequipped?"
Maria replied, indignantly, "I was well-equipped. I just got a bit lost, I suppose."
"Were you looking for our facility?"
"If you want the truth...yes, I was." Maria knew the best way to lie was to paint it over with a little truth. So far, Theodore Preston seemed to be biting. "I knew it was somewhere around here but I guess my bearings went a little out."
He nodded, sympathetically. "Might I ask why?"
Maria tried her hardest to provide an image of someone with nothing to hide - all open and chatty. "I missed you at Roswell town hall and I'm really interested in all this stuff."
At this, Preston's face fell into deep lines of concern and severity. "Excuse my bluntness, Miss Bateman, but the CEO is not a tourist centre full of artefacts and interactive displays. It is a private institute which is paid for primarily by its members. Now I don't know to what lengths your interests extend, but let me assure you, we do not take kindly to people who think they can just walk up to the door and expect a guided tour."
Maria steeled herself. Her heart was beating faster at this sudden bitterness which was more applicable to her than Preston realised. "Please, call me Cathy. I really do understand your concerns, Mr. Preston, but I promise you I am more than that. I've heard about your group on the internet but I'm just a small town girl who couldn't afford to visit any of your other branches. I'm really serious about finding out what you know, about being a part of what you are doing here. I'd give my full support to your cause...financial and otherwise. Please, just give me a chance to prove myself."
Preston seemed to soften with her growing pleads. "Money is not our prime objective, Cathy. Of course, it is a very useful means to achieving our full potential as a group. So, what can you tell me about your interests in this field?"
If anyone other than Maria, Liz or Alex had been sitting in that chair, this would have been the moment that their cover was blown. For Maria, however, a couple of years in the company of three aliens had prompted her to read every single book on UFOlogy she could get her hands on and plenty of that information at the forefront of her brain. She would have no trouble impressing Preston with the breadth and depth of her knowledge.
She launched into a discussion about the crash of 1947 and its implications, drawing parallels between obscure sets of data which Maria could tell impressed the pants off Theodore Preston. She rounded off with a few pieces of general information about Max's run-in with Agent Pierce, dropping a few federal names without mentioning her friends, just to make herself sound really up-to-date.
"Well, Cathy, you've certainly given this topic a lot of thought. What do you do for a living?"
"I've worked all over since I graduated high school, picking up casual work to feed my passion. I'm sure you've met a few like me. If I was more business-minded I probably would have tried to found an institution just like the CEO." Maria glanced around the room, adding, "But this place is much more impressive than even I could have envisaged. The papers said building had only begun a few weeks ago. They certainly threw this place up quickly."
Preston took a sip of his water, "Well, pre-packed glass walls reduce the building by a significant amount, but the press misquoted our representative. We've been working out here for a good few months."
"What do all the numbers and lines mean?" Maria regretted the question the instant it left her lips. She had overstepped a mark of curiosity which would set her back in the trust stakes with Preston. She could see the change come over his face as he looked at her, deciding what sort of person she was. "One thing at a time, Cathy. We can't give away all our secrets in the first meeting. Perhaps you'd like to have a tour of some of the more...public areas."
Maria felt a tremor of joy enter her brain. Now this was going somewhere. The quicker she discovered even a tiny piece of information about what the CEO were up to, the quicker she could get the hell out of there. "That would be wonderful, if it's not too intrusive."
Preston stood up and moved towards the door, "Don't worry. I won't let you get intrusive. Maybe you could tell me a bit more about yourself while we are going round."
By the end of her guided tour, Maria was starting to enjoy playing the role of nerdy conspiracy theorist as well as honing her detective skills. She had already managed to wean a significant amount of information out of her subject about the CEO's primary goals and they didn't always correlate with what he had said at the town hall.
Preston seemed convinced of his companion's legitimacy and was more than happy to show Maria around a few of the less public areas of the building. Finally, they entered the piece de resistance. "This is where it will all happen," he announced.
"Wow." Maria stammered, unsure of what exactly it was that would happen there, but not wanting to lose her cool. "This place is...quite something." She stared around the cavernous room. It contained absolutely nothing yet must have covered at least half the floor space of the entire building. The ceiling stretched up to the roof with what appeared to be hinges of a door opening out into the sky. The walls, as in the rest of the building, were adorned with lines and numbers, but something was different about the numbers and lines here. In this room, none of them seemed random anymore. They were closing in around the centre of the space in an erratic pattern of intercepting lines. The numbers began to fit in with one another, and while Maria's maths left something to be desired, she could tell that most of them formed some kind of sum.
"It is quite extraordinary, isn't it?" Preston looked proudly at her and he reminded Maria of a father showing off his newborn child. "Do you know what is in this room?"
"No." There was no point in lying and Maria needed to know this information. Ignorance didn't have to make her untrustworthy after all.
"This is the future, Cathy. This is where it all starts." He strolled around the room in a sort of marked path as if trying to avoid some unseen object in its centre. "We have been intercepting intergalactic messages for a while now and..." He stopped suddenly, flicking his hand nonchalantly in her direction. "I'm sorry, Cathy. I wish I could tell you all this, but I'm going to have to stop myself. I'm sure you understand. This is years of work brought to fruition here. I can't be the one to leak information to unverified sources."
Maria knew when to back down. "Oh, I understand perfectly. I mean, I'm not a journalist or anything but I can totally relate to your concerns. There have been so many times that I've had information I was just dying to tell someone but then it always backfires on you. You think you trust someone and then they are the first ones to stab you in the back."
Preston laughed, hollowly. He had clearly seen a lot of back stabbing in his time. "Let's go back to my office and I'll call someone to take you back into town."
Maria was about to assent. She had more information than Max or Michael could ever have discovered on their own, but somehow the game had got easier and she was ready for another round. Even just one night here would give her plenty of time to sneak around the building a little more or even get an insight into daily activity. "Oh, you mean you don't take on recruits?"
Preston looked at her with measured surprise, "Recruits? Is that why you are here, Miss Bateman?"
"Foolish as it sounds. I guess I just didn't imagine you'd hold interviews at the town hall, so here I am." She feigned stupidity. "I'm sorry. I've gone about this whole thing wrong, haven't I?"
Taken in by her act, Preston put a hand on her back and steered her into the corridor. "No, no. From the reception we got at the town hall the other night, I suppose I wasn't expecting Roswell to throw up any candidates. I suppose a town with a history like that doesn't always take kindly to people like us. Well, I think I've given you enough of a grilling for one day. If you'd like to stay the night, I'm sure we can find a space for you. No doubt, our fellow members will want to get to know you before you are invited to any of the sessions we hold here. You understand?"
"Yes, of course." Maria felt that sinking feeling kick in again. She had just submitted herself to a pretty intensive twenty-four hours of hell. If a single one of these people were anywhere near as suspicious of strangers as Michael, it was going to take more than one day and night to figure out exactly what was going on. Whatever it was, the CEO had enough money and equipment to carry out any cack-handed scheme that entered their deranged minds.
"I'll have someone show you to a room and act as a bit of a guide for a while. No matter how much you agree with our ideas, it is always an eye opener to be confronted by others of your own kind. Some of them have more extreme ideas than you would believe." Theodore gave Maria a kindly smile which she found oddly reassuring, considering that she was duping him and was, therefore, as close to an enemy as she was likely to get.
Isabel slumped back against the pillow propped up behind the bed head. She looked distastefully at today's sweater purchase. The circumstances of its arrival into her life made it all the more repulsive, totally the wrong colour for her and a style that would only emphasise all her worst features. Isabel turned away from it disgust, catching her reflection in the dresser mirror as she did so. Right now she was finding it difficult to see any redeeming features in herself. Every part of her was a superficial, cruel, heartless, human-less glob of girl. Hell, she probably wasn't even that. She was an alien and that was going to make the rest of her life a misery. She hated herself for it, hated Max and Michael, hated the place she came from - wherever it was.
Pulling herself to the edge of the bed, Isabel studied her face closely. She tried to imagine what that face must look like to someone who didn't know what she really was, what she was hiding. To the all-knowing eye, her secret stared back at her as plain as day. Who could ever misinterpret that hard stare for anything other than an alien creature? Alex never would, not anymore. He had made a mistake he wasn't prone to make again. Isabel had lost him and the pain of that was harder to bear than she ever could have imagined.
If her parents had been downstairs, she would have smashed that looking glass. Everything she owned, touched, looked at, was hideous to her. Isabel felt an eruption of resentment towards Max and Michael. If she had been alone in Roswell, she might never have realised her potential, the powers she had garnered. If it weren't for them, she could have continued being the Isabel she had wanted to be, high school ice queen with any guy scraping his nose to the dirt in front of her and getting manicures at the nail bar. All that was denied her now. She had to sneak around and lie just to hide who she was.
The anger coursed through Isabel's veins with rapid speed and she just wanted to lash out. Raising one hand, she viciously scraped her nails down her cheek, leaving satisfying red tracks in their wake and a burning sensation. The anger balled up, fusing with sadness and desperation, until it forced churning tears to her eyes.
It was in this state that Alex found her. He had thrown stones at her window, vainly, and had eventually knocked on the door where Mrs. Evans had let him in. Knocking lightly at the door, Alex waited for a response. He could hear the soft 'tush tush' sounds of music issuing from within so he knew Isabel was there. "Isabel?"
Isabel wiped the tears from her eyes in shock. She had been so engrossed in her own thoughts that she had failed to hear the stones, the doorbell or the knock on her door. It was Alex's voice which stopped her in her tracks. She took one look in her mirror and was horrified by the state of her face. She couldn't let him see her like this.
Alex was starting to think he should go but knew, behind that door, there was someone who really needed to hear what he had to say. "I'm coming in, okay?" There was still no answer and he took the silence as acquiescence. Pushing open the door, he was met with the shocked, teary face of his sometime girlfriend.
It came as somewhat of a fright to see Isabel brought so low. Despite all his time with the gang and the dangers it brought, he had rarely seen her so lost. Composure was Isabel's middle name and it was often the trait which made her so inaccessible. Now, the mask had disintegrated and he was confronted with the girl who struggled from day to day with the burden of what she was.
Instinctively, he went to her and put his arms around her. "Isabel." At first, she didn't respond, too shocked by his sudden turnaround to know how to react. Then, the tears welled up and she sobbed against his shoulder until all her sorrow was spent and dry heaves were all that remained.
The tears wrung out of her, Isabel pulled away, "I'm so sorry, Alex. I've behaved...I've been so awful to you. I don't know what to do to make it up to you."
Alex softened at hearing the desperate, apologetic tone in her voice. He had planned to talk to her straight, just say his bit and let her say hers. Yet, seeing her so vulnerable inspired different words. "Isabel, I've thought long and hard about this whole thing. I mean, you were really harsh and I meant it when I said how much those things hurt."
Isabel nodded, fresh tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. "I know. I know I did..."
Alex staid her with his hand. "Just let me get this out, Is. I ran those words through my head so many times I thought I was going crazy. Then, I started moving past that day and looking into what the future might be. Now I know you and I have had a pretty rocky time of it in the past but the funny thing is...I don't think I can quit it. After everything we've been through and the person I've grown into since I met you, I can't turn away from it. I really care about you, Isabel, and corny as it sounds, I want to stand by you until I see a happy ending in sight."
A flicker of a smile crossed Isabel's face, as fragile as sunlight refracted through crystal. "I want that, too. I really do...but those things I said..."
"It doesn't matter now. I'll never see things from your side of the fence, Isabel. I'm never going to truly get how scared these cults make you or how much of your family tree is posted on the display boards at the UFO Centre. I know that now. I just want to be here with you."
Isabel flung her arms around his neck, warmly. "God, what did I do to deserve someone as wonderful as you?!"
Alex shrugged, stroking her back. "Well, it'll probably cost you."
Maria DeLuca sat at the far end of what had to be the most colossal dining table she had ever seen. It stretched away from her until the people became nothing but a sea of flesh-coloured blobs, each crowned with different shades of brown and blonde. The chattering noise of so many people talking was deafening considering the acoustics of all the rooms in the building.
She had been trying not to lose her cool, but the prospect of ever seeing the outside of this place was starting to fade. Once the sun dipped its brow beneath the horizon and left night to do its thing, she felt more trapped than ever. It felt like years since she had last seen her friends and her reasons for coming here even more remote. Still, most people were pretty friendly towards her and Maria was starting to feel less like an outsider.
A young man sat down opposite her with some pasta and a glass of water. "Hi." His face was open and generous-looking, the kind of innocence which lent itself to questioning. Maria knew she shouldn't be too forceful and give herself away, but those big, brown eyes and spatter of freckles across his nose just begged to be talked to. Offering her warmest smile, she replied, "Hi. My name's Cathy."
"Ronald. I figured you must be the new girl. I'd been hoping to see you all day." His eyes glowed with excitement.
"Really? Wow, word sure does get around quickly."
"Well, in a place like this, there isn't much to talk about. New faces always create tension and that means gossip."
Maria glanced up and down the length of the table. Not a single eye met her gaze. They were playing a pretty good poker face if they were trying to cover up their interest in her. "Yeah, Preston kind of warned me about that."
"Folk are suspicious of outsiders." He eyed her curiously as if waiting to see what her reaction would be.
Maria was starting to feel a little annoyed. It was as if Ronald was only asking the questions because he wanted a rise out of her. Well, he wasn't going to get it from good old Cathy. "But every one of you was an outsider once. What's so special about me?"
Ronald shrugged, nonchalantly. "I guess it's because of this place. It's so new and it means so much to us all. We've invested hundreds of thousands between us into this project. This building, this moment in time...it's the culmination of what the CEO was designed for. I suppose that makes it a bad time for new arrivals."
Maria nodded, pretending she knew more than she did. "I'm from Roswell. Doesn't that make me one of the 'gang' already? I mean, not too many people live right in the hub of extraterrestrial activity like I've done."
"Yeah, but this is so much more than the 1947 crash. This is alien contact, real alien contact! We've been trying for so long, beaming out messages across the galaxy in thousands of frequencies. Now, finally, they've responded. We're so excited."
Maria's heart lurched. What did this mean for Max, Isabel and Michael? From what she had gathered, not every alien relation was benign. These could be hostile forces being given red carpet treatment before taking over the world. "How can you be sure that this time it's for real? There have been lots of cases where correspondence has occurred only to peter out."
Ronald looked at her as if she was completely mad. "After as many years as Theodore Preston and Bob Silva have been in this business, they know a good thing when they see it. That's what is so great about the CEO, don't you think? It brings together all the greatest and most informed minds on the subject so we can squeeze every piece of data out of messages received."
Maria felt unnerved by his sudden intensity, but she was finding out what she wanted to know. "Yeah, it's an amazing thing to be part of." She fought to think of subtle ways to find out what she wanted to know, but working undercover was proving to be more difficult than Maria had imagined.
She glanced down the length of the table again to see if some natural topic of conversation might arise from what she saw there. Instead, she only noticed Mr. Preston being approached by a businesslike fellow. The man whispered something in the leader's ear to which Preston nodded and took his leave from the table. Preston's eyes had flickered momentarily towards Maria and the teenager felt that stare in the pit of her stomach. Her heart was beating nineteen to the dozen and Maria quickly turned back to her food. Something told her that her cover had been blown and that she should head for the hills while she still stood a chance. Potential enemies surrounded her and none of her friends had a clue where she was. Maria prayed she was over-reacting.
"I think you'd better take a look at this, Theo."
Marcus Edelman inserted videotape into the VCR, turning the screen towards his boss, conspiratorially. Theodore Preston seemed disinclined to take his comrade seriously, thinking about the hearty meal he had left back in the hall to get cold on him. "Do we really have to do this now, Marcus?" he muttered, awaiting the usual paranoid lecture Marcus delivered.
Not only did the man insist on recording every speech Preston ever delivered but also he had recently taken to going through each recording with a fine toothcomb. Sometimes Theodore thought letting Marcus into the team was the worst decision he had ever made. Carefully considering his words, Preston ventured, "Listen, Marcus, maybe you should take a little...vacation from all this stuff. I mean, I appreciate everything you do and you're an invaluable member of our staff but...sometimes..."
Marcus cut him off, pausing the tape suddenly. "There! Look, Theo."
Theodore donned his glasses and squinted at the tape, trying to make out something extraordinary in the footage from his speech at the Roswell town hall. "All I see are a bunch of small town folk listening to me drone on for hours." Exasperation entered his voice. "Marcus, this is getting out of hand."
Marcus poked a finger towards the right edge of the screen, jabbing at one of the audience members. "That girl! That's the girl you let in today."
Preston leaned closer to scrutinise the fuzzy, pixelated image in front of him. "You're quite right." His voice was calm and assured, a stark contrast to the paranoid yammerings of his cohort.
Marcus laughed and clapped his hands in applause for his own cleverness. "I knew it! I just knew it! All this time, I knew I was doing the right thing. It was only a matter of time before people started coming out of the woodwork, but we'll be there to catch them. We've got to get rid of her. Nobody will miss her. What are you going to do, Theo? Are you going to kill her?"