Title: Whom among us Part seven

Author: Chris Kenworthy

Email: Chris_Kenworthy@yahoo.com

Rating: PG-13 for now

Disclaimer: No, I don't own any of the Roswell characters. I don't plan to steal them and lock them up in white rooms either. ;-) I just let them out to play from time to time and see what happens.

Distribution: Distribute anywhere you like, now based at http://www.fanfiction.net/~chriskenworthy

Author's notes: Future fic. Assumes that Liz has a lot more luck cutting Max out of her life after 'End of the world.' There's been a lot of furor over whether this qualifies as a dreamer fic, so watch out if you have no tolerance for rebel-ness.

Spoilers: End of the world. Scattered concepts after that.

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Michael watched the used car pick up speed as it left the parking lot behind, the gestured to Tess and Kenner that they head back. There had been no sign of any androids, and no-one was following the car.

"I don't like it," Tess opined. "Liz's boyfriend almost gets us all killed, so in return we have to watch his back as he leaves town."

"Well," Kenner observed gruffly. "It's not like he knew that he would be causing trouble simply by calling Michael's name."

"You would do well to be appreciative that Miss Parker has a beau," Michael announced pompously. "If that is indeed their relationship, which seems short of a firm conclusion."

Tess felt a wash of annoyance on two counts. Was Michael hinting that Tess couldn't hold on to her husband now that Liz Parker was back in the picture - unless Liz wasn't interested in Max? Another consideration took precedence to bickering over that, though.

"You know what?" Tess announced out loud. "I'm getting really tired of lawyer-boy."

"I would prefer to be free of this unnatural configuration myself," Michael told them, "but I regret I am unable. No maater in what fashion I attempt to express myself, my thoughts emerge in a most mature and convoluted manner."

Tess groaned - and stifled a gasp as a brainwave struck her.

"Michael, I'd like to take a small detour and examine the courtyard where Liz first saw that android. I may have a good idea. I'm not sure."

"A good idea... of what nature?" Michael asked her.

"I can't explain that yet," Tess told him.

"We're expected back at the apartment in just a few minutes," Kenner reminded them. "Max and Isabel will worry. Not to mention that the... that our enemy may also have returned to the scene of the altercation."

Tess was about to change her mind, but Michael beat her to speech out loud. "We should be able to observe the region visually from inside the building, at little or no risk."

"Okay, let's go," Tess repeated. "Carefully but quickly - this shouldn't take long."

And it didn't. They took a look out a window, which assured Kenner and Michael that nobody suspicious was hanging around the courtyard - in fact, no-one at all was there. Tess led the way out to the general area where Liz must have confronted the android.

"So... what is the next element of your secretive idea??" Michael asked wordily. Tess looked at him, judging the positions. Not quite right. She shusshed him, walking over towards the mouth of the yard, hoping that Michael would move in a similar direction.

He did. "Tess? I do not see the effaciousness in continued silence." Suddenly the right moment struck. Turning around quickly, Tess leapt towards Michael and shoved, tumbling him into the same pond that Liz had been thrown into earlier.

Kenner stared at Tess in shock. So did Michael, once most of the water had dripped out of his eyes again. "What the hell was that for?" he demanded loudly.

"To get you back to your slightly lovable self, Michael," Tess told him smugly.

"And just what on homeworld do you mean by..." Suddenly, Michael broke off in mid-rant as something occured to him.

"You're not talking soberly any more," Tess informed him unnecessarily. "I was getting tired of lawyer-boy."

"Thanks - I think." Michael clambered out of the pool, with Kenner's help. "What gave you the fool notion that dumping me in the pool would help with that?"

"Intuition." Tess shrugged. "It would be a startling break, and about the most un-sober thing that could happen to you." A short pause. "Don't look at me like that - it worked, didn't it??"

"Let's get back to base home," Michael grumped. "I hope Liz is out of the bathroom by the time we get back there."

* * * * *

Max paced through the 'living room area' and back impatiently. He had booted the laptop computer back up, and loaded all of Liz's programs back up, according to her instructions. But there was nothing else he could do to help out until Liz herself was ready to return to work, so Max was waiting for her to finish with her shower. A fact that's not conducive to relaxation in the slightest.

Isabel stepped through the door at the other end of the room and waved him over. Max shrugged and walked up to his sister. "Yes?"

"I've been thinking... we're soundproofed in here, by the way," Isabel started off. "With at least two Kaffarrans here on campus, maybe we should be making plans to go elsewhere. Find another base camp for Parker to work her mojo with the computer at."

She stopped talking here, waiting for a response from Max. Unfortunately, right then the water flow in the bathroom came to a conclusive stop, followed by the soft but unmistakeable sound of footfalls leaving the shower. Max struggled not to zone out again. "Umm... somewhere else??" he managed to repeat. "Are you thinking of anywhere in particular?"

Isabel shrugged with annoyance. "I dunno - get a hotel suite in Phoenix maybe. Be hard to find us amongst all those thousands of people even if they look."

Max evaluated this, finding it a welcome distraction from obsessing over the bathroom. "You forget, finding the needle in the haystack isn't exactly a big problem for these people. We don't know where else they have agents, but the big city seems entirely too obvious to me. *If* we run to ground, I suggest we find someplace deserted where not even androids would think of looking."

Isabel's eyes narrowed. "'If', Max?"

"I'd have to ask Liz," Max said absently. After a few seconds he realized that Isabel was glaring at him. "What?? We don't know if she can easily just pick up and work from some campsite in the countryside. She might need some other tools that can only be found here at the University."

Isabel's eyebrow arched in elegant doubt, but the discussion was brought to an end at that point. A squeaking signalled that the bathroom door was opened and then closed. Liz appeared a few seconds later in the small hall that joined the bathroom, the living room, and the kitchen together. "Hey, I'll be ready in a few minutes," she assured Max. "Can I borrow somebody's bedroom to finish putting myself together?"

Max didn't answer - he was lost in, well... amazement. If someone had asked him in 1999, he would have sworn in all sincerity that Liz Parker could not, possibly, in any way, be more beautiful than she was then.

But the truth was that Liz had blossomed in the years since high school, and looking at her right now left no possible doubt of the fact. No longer a girl, (though Liz as a teenage girl had been a wonderful, unutterably precious thing,) but a woman, an incredibly desirable young woman.

Liz's hair was still quite damp, almost wet, but that couldn't entirely stifle whatever she had done to make it curl. Most of it poured down to her back in hundred of wavy locks, but a few dark brown strands refused to yield to peer pressure and fell about her face and shoulders.

Her face had a fresh-scrubbed look that reminded Max painfully of the girl he had first 'connected' with that September day in Roswell, but also showed off ever-so-small touches of maturity that hadn't been there years ago. A greater elegance in her cheekbones, an understated confidence in the set of her jaw. And maybe... Max thought he could see a trace of a melancholy burden behind those gorgeous brown eyes. Did I have anything to do with that? Or was he imagining it? He had to admit Liz didn't seem to be struggling with any great sadness downstairs.

She was wearing a casual red sweater, a short dark green skirt, and sandals. Max had expected Liz to pick something a little... warmer looking, after her soaking. But he had to admit that home base was warm enough inside, and she probably figured that she'd actually dry off and warm up faster if some of her creamy skin was bare instead of being all bundled up. Like a good long stretch of her legs, three quarters of her arms, a small open space around her neck, and a teasing strip of midriff that her sweater flatly refused to hide from the world.

This ensemble, as convenient and practical as it was presumably picked to be, left absolutely no doubt as to the beauty of Liz's figure. Her legs and hips had grown sleeker and slightly curvier over the years, and Max couldn't help but speculate that Liz had been something of a late bloomer, umm... 'up top...'

Stop thinking about her breasts, Max. That can only lead to badness. Dragging his eyes and his brain back to the subject, Max cleared his throat. "A room? Yeah, take the first door on the left." He pointed. "If Tess comes back, I'll make sure that she doesn't barge in on you." Oh, wasn't that a mental picture...

"Thanks." Liz smiled brightly, apparently clueless about the saucy speculations that had been running through Max's mind, and headed off. Max forced himself not to look at her departing miniskirt and ended up looking straight into Isabel's eyes. She was not unaware of Max's thoughts. She couldn't be, after all her telepathic training.

"What should I say to Tess?" she whispered to him sardonically.

"Nothing," Max snapped. "This is my problem, I'll take care of it myself."

Isabel gave him a steady look, accompanied by about a third of a condescending sneer, and turned to walk into the small den. Max sighed, turned around, and settled down to wait for Liz near the computer.

In the meantime he focused on reining in his hormones - and the feelings that Liz Parker had been starting to rouse in him ever since he bumped into her the day before. Some of which feelings went far beyond the hormonal, Max suddenly had to admit.

Well, why not?? Max's relationship with Liz had been more than intense, way back then. They'd been soulmates, they said, with a bond that nothing could break. And then, something did. Tess arrived, with her strange convictions, born out by the message from Max's mother. Shaken by that, Liz had left for the whole summer, and things hadn't been the same between them the next fall.

As much as Max might try to persuade Liz that he sincerely meant to 'make his own Destiny' - to choose her instead of Tess, he never seemed able to get through. The one time he thought he was making progress, he ended up coming to Liz's window and finding her in bed with Kyle Valenti. And she never had anything to do with him for the rest of high school that she could help.

Max had railed at that for months, had raged and wept and done anything he could think of to get Liz to talk to him again, even as a friend. When failure had been impossible to ignore, he had blamed Tess for the whole affair. It had been April of 2001 before they settled things...

"Hey." Liz waved at Max before settling down in front of the laptop, cutting off the train of Max's thoughts.

He looked at Liz. She was still in the same enticing outfit as he had just seen her in, but this time Max suceeded in keeping his heartrate down. This was just a friend. Liz was involved with that Pete guy, and Max himself was with Tess. Liz was being an amazingly good friend and helping them all out with this whole Lightning Bolt situation, and Max could think of her as a friend and not as his amazingly beautiful ex-girlfriend. If he concentrated hard enough.

"Well," Liz sighed as she waited for the program to load up. "I believe the last time we were both here I told you I needed some information on the capabilities of your people's space flight vehicles and such, and you told me I would have to speak with..." she broke off, frowning slightly. "Oh, you told me the name but I forgot. One of your 'friends.'" She intoned the word significantly.

"Oh," Max replied with a smile. "Bentor. I can go get him for you."

"Sounds good," Liz confirmed with an amiable smile. Max got up and headed for the bedroom wing of the suite, trying not to feel like he was beating a quick retreat before his armor of friendly feelings for Liz was breached.

His route took Max past the front door just seconds after Kenner, Tess, and a thoroughly soaked Michael made their entrance. After receiving a kiss hello from his wife, he turned with more than a little concern to the two fighting men of the party. "What happened to you, Michael?? Another run-in with the androids?" If so, maybe Max *should* force the issue with Liz and get them all off campus.

"No, not at all," Michel spluttered as he tramped off toward the bathroom. "It was your dear bride who dropped me in the drink, Maxwell." With that, he closed the door, effectively assuring himself the last word in that conversation.

Max turned to stare at Tess, not a particularly easy feat since she had nestled herself comfortably against him with his right arm draped around her shoulders. Tess giggled, presumably at whatever expression she saw in Max's face, but no explanation was immediately forthcoming. Max maneuvered the pair of them down into the hall and to the door of Bentor and Ardra's room. "Hey! Lord sage," he called out, knocking on the door.

"Yes, my lord?" There was tolerant good humor in the scholar's voice.

"Your presence and expertise are hereby requested at the laptop computer," Max 'commanded.'

"I shall attend momentarily, sire," Bentor answered. Max considered a moment, shared a glance with Tess, and the two of them headed for their own bedroom. The effort to plot the course of a mysterious space capsule would probably be intensely boring, with only one redeeming point. And Max did *not* want to end up paying more attention to Liz than what she was saying. He'd spend some quiet time with Tess - if Liz needed him for anything, she would have him called for. He had no doubts about that.

* * * * *

Liz experimented with the parameters of the program. She had used it a lot for working out planetary and planetoidal orbits, but could it really do for space ships and space capsules. Well... what do you know. There was actually a space probe graphic in the list of available objects. Looked a little like the old Pioneer spacecraft, but oh well.

Let's see. Take our space probe, put it in a low earth orbit. That works of course. Now, how do we... hmm, what happens if we increase its velocity to earth escape levels? Liz made the change, took the simulation off 'pause,' and watched in satisfaction as her little probe spiraled outwards from planet earth, slingshot unexpectedly around the moon, and headed for Mars. "Good enough. Now apply a slow burn of acceleration, and we're on course for Saturn. I hope." Liz thought about that for a second. "Oh, cripes. I should have used the acceleration tool to build up to escape velocity rather than doing it all in an instant. No vessel could survive that kind of G force. My little space probe would be about a thousand shards of metal by now."

"This is true," a deep voice agreed out loud, surprising Liz. "However, nobody is perfect, as I have heard on this planet many times."

Liz couldn't resist a chuckle. Standing about six feet away from the computer table was the dignified thirtyish figure that she had heard referred to as 'Bentor.' His human form wasn't particularly remarkable - short dark hair with a fringe of brownish-gray around the edges, lean form, silvery-rimmed glasses - but Liz could somehow very well picture him as a royal court sage on a distant planet. More easily than she could imagine Max as a prince or a young king, to tell the truth.

"Ummm..." Liz fought hard to get her thoughts back on track. "Uh, hi Bentor. Max said that you might be able to answer my questions. About the kind of Space capsule your people might send through the rift." She trailed off awkwardly, wondering how the alien she was speaking to would react.

"A small part of the lore of our sector of the Galaxy has been entrusted to me in this life, for the good of the Royal Four," Bentor answered. "I am no longer expert in space technology, but ask your questions. I may well be of some help."

"Uh, thanks," Liz said. Bentor kept putting her off-balance with the things he said. "Well, let's start with the hyperspace business, or whatever it is that you think the Lightning bolt is? Not 'what are the principles upon which it functions' - I imagine that would take years to convey even if you were a trained professor of the science and I was fully prepared to begin learning it. But what are the circumstantial effects surrounding a trip between star systems?" Liz knew she was rambling on and not even giving Bentor a chance to reply, but she seemingly couldn't stop herself. "Is there another rift in space like that Lightning bolt in another quadrant of the galaxy, kiloparsecs away?? With the two of them connected to each other somehow?" Having a more or less concrete question, Liz found she could shut up and wait for Bentor to answer.

"There... is, or was," Bentor replied after several long seconds. The Kiyagengoran, or 'Sky tears,' as our people call them, are the terminus points where trans-space channels meet the real universe. But whether the other end of this particular channel..." he reached out and tapped one of the pictures of the Lightning bolt, "still connects to real space or if that end has been collapsed depends on how far the trip is, what level of energy it's being generated, and exactly what is travelling from here to there. Do you understand?"

Liz nodded with a smile. "Yeah, I think I do - that far. So, with what kind of relative velocity would an object emerge from the tear?" She had an idea of the answer to that question already, and liked the term Bentor had given her, the tear. Looking at pictures of the Lightning bolt Liz could definitely picture it as a rip in the fabric of space.

"With whatever velocity it entered the opening. Great amounts of distance are covered in trans-space, but the conservation of momentum in true space cannot be violated."

Liz nodded as that fact was confirmed, and tried to work it into her thought process. "So, to start with we can presumably take starting speed at the lightning bolt to be optimal for an earth approach course, since there's no way to know what conditions prevail on the other side. Now, what kind of an acceleration would you expect a space capsule to be capable of? Short term or long term."

"An inanimate cargo pod would be able to sustain thrust, if needed, for weeks at... approximately one and a half times the effect of gravity here," Bentor explained. "Similar for a royal warship or fast scout. A pleasure yacht would be capable of such accelerations over short periods, but would only be able to sustain three fifths as much thrust as that in the long term."

"One point five gee?" Liz repeated aloud. "That's a speed increase of almost fifteen meters p.s. every second." The very thought amazed her. "Okay, let's start by working this backward," she muttered, fingers already working over the keyboard. "I'm putting a space probe in low earth orbit with that kind of capabilities, and we can work out a near-optimal course to the Lightning bolt. Then we can reverse that route to get from the Bolt to earth."

Sure enough, suddenly the tiny orbiter screeched off into space at what seemed a totally reckless velocity. (Though considering how quickly the tiny earth was spinning, the simulation had to have accelerated the progress of time.)

It bolted for deep space, beelined in a wide spiral for the asteroid belt, (though the interplanetary spaces were vast enough that this still took some time,) and oriented on the slowly spinning Lightning Bolt. When the two of them intercepted, the probe crashed into the planetoid that Liz had been using to represent the bolt - with a truly impressive collision animation for an educational program. Little bits of wreckage floated off into space.

"Whoops," Liz giggled. "That wouldn't happen with the real Lightning bolt, would it?" Bentor shook his head in solemn negation. "Still, we have what we needed - the general heading and velocity of the probe at the time of the collision will serve for a direction and speed the probe may have come *out* of the rift, when reversed."

Bentor nodded. "I was wondering if an unassisted flight plan would be optimal. Perhaps a use of the 'slingshot' technique would save time - like around this planet here." Bentor tapped the red orb of Mars on the still-running simulation.

"Yeah, I thought of that too," Liz agreed. "The thing is, Mars is out of position for ideal slingshot conditions. Still, we can run that through the computer too. I want to have at least a dozen trajectories on paper by tonight, then we can try them all out. Speaking of which, do you have any notions for how to find this ship of yours? I mean, a way to verify a trajectory by looking at the right part of space where we think the ship should be? We'd be pushing it to depend on visual observation I think."

"There should be microwave signatures we can scan for," Bentor told her. "If you and the royal heirs can - um, 'liberate' a moderately powerful radio telescope..."

* * * * *

Alex Whitman looked around the unfamiliar campus. He had never been here - Liz and Alex had grown apart before going to university, and the one time they had met since Liz had gone to California. How on earth was he going to find Liz here, let alone Isabel??

"Help!! Oh my god, what *is* that?" The screamed words were coming from around the corner of the building, and they peaked Alex's curiosity instantly. He headed over to investigate, and quickly noticed a typical-looking college girl running around the corner. Alex reached out a hand to wave her down, and she practically ran him down, and his arm fell around the girl's shoulder as she slowed to a stop, moaning in fright.

That was when a second female poked her head out from around the corner - unmistakeably Isabel. She looked different than Alex had last seen her - more mature, leaner. And she seemed to be wearing a leather outfit seemingly straight out of Alex's most embarassing fantasies... "Hey, buddy!" she called. "Couldja get the girl out of h... Whitman??"

Alex put on the best smile he could manage. "Yeah, Is. It's me. How've y-"

"No time for small talk, I've got work to do," she told him. "Can you get Miss Hyper here well clear? I'll find you once I'm done."

As always, Alex agreed to what Isabel was asking him. Buddy, you're whipped and you haven't even been dating the girl for five years! With only the briefest nod of recognition to Isabel Evans (who was already turning around herself,) Alex swung his new charge around and headed directly away from the scene of whatever action was going on. "Hey, where should I drop you off?" he asked the co-ed.

Talking to her directly had been some sort of a cue. "What *were* those things? Who are you?! Do you know that girl??" College-gal's questions came out in a hurried rush.

"I have no idea, Alex Whitman, and yes, she's someone I used to know," Alex said. "What about you? What's your name??"

She smiled a little self-consciously. "Suzy. I'm Suzy Trancsinn; it's nice to meet you Alex. I'm sorry to ask so many questions - you didn't even see them, did you?"

"No I did not." Though by this point Alex felt he could be surprised by very little.

"I live in Clairmont Hall," Suzy told him, and must have read the blank expression from his face. "You don't go here, do you??"

"No, I don't," Alex admitted. "Just came to Arizona to meet up with some friends."

"That... that girl from b..." Suzy trailed off in wonder.

"No," Alex lied. "My friend's name is Liz Parker - do you know her?"

Suzy shook her head. "That way," she mentioned, pointing him over to a long residence building about three stories high. No more was said until they had almost come to the large double doors. "Well, thanks for all your help, Alex Whitman. Hope you find your friend."

"I do too." But after seeing Isabel, Alex didn't feel much like looking for Liz anymore. He waited while Suzy disappeared safely inside her dorm, then headed back to where he had gotten off the bus. There was a building nearby - some sort of student union or centre, with a food court and various restaurants, and Alex bought a cola and a plate of french fries with gravy.

He had only barely begun when a familiar yet strange voice sounded behind him. "Okay, Whitman, what the hell are you doing in Arizona??"

Alex turned around to smile at Isabel, or should he think or her as 'Isabel Croft?' "I heard a rumor that the infamous Isabel Evans was lurking around campus, and I thought I'd check it out," he admitted.

"In other words," Isabel re-interpreted, "You intentionally decided to poke your snoopy little nose into my life again?"

"Mm-hmm. French fry??" Alex held the paper plate out towards Is. Her only response was a glare almost frosty enough to freeze the gravy.

Alex took his food back without letting any disappointment show. "So, while I'm 'snooping,' just what are *you* doing here in Arizona, Isabel??"

Isabel didn't answer Alex directly, which he could have guessed. In fact, the young alien beauty didn't seem to have heard Alex's question, as she was focusing intently on something not easily guessable. "They're coming," she whispered, so quietly the words had to be meant for herself alone.

But Alex had always had good ears. (Despite all the jokes about them.) "Who's coming??"

"Not who, what," Is clarified quickly. "And they're no business of yours, Alex. Get out of here. Go back home to California."

"Are *they* dangerous?" Alex asked softly. He had felt something pull at his heart when Isabel called him 'Alex' for the first time today, instead of 'Whitman.'

"Deeply dangerous. That's why you've got to g-"

"Forget it," Alex replied. "I'm not going anywhere while you might be in danger."

"Alex, you don't get it. You can't help me he..."

"I don't care," Alex countered, softly and intently. "Where you go, I go."

Isabel looked at him narrowly for a few seconds. Then "okay," she conceded. "But you do what I say, and nothing but what I tell you too, or you'll get both of us killed, all right??"

Alex nodded his agreement, figuring that speaking would not make Isabel any happier about having him along.

"We have to get out of here," Is continued after a few seconds. "*They* probably have a lock on me. None of these other people..." and she waved at the throng of students, teachers, dropouts, and who-knew-how-many other classifications crowding the food court. "...Should be in danger - as long as I get out of here."

Alex got up, pointedly ignoring his snack and beverage sitting on the table, and tried to look as if he were scanning the premises with a critical eye. "Which way?"

Isabel silently led him through a small side door in the building, and to a wooded grove next to one of the residences, the trees somewhat shielding them from view. "All right, you damn little bastards," she called out softly once they were alone. "You want me? Come and get me!!"

The response was surprisingly quick. A small grayish-white blur streaked out of the branches of a Douglas fir ten feet away, and Isabel screamed as the thing latched onto her neck. Alex rushed forward, shock-stricken by the speed of the attack and not quite sure what to do about it.

As it turned out, Alex didn't need to come to Isabel's rescue just yet. Too bad. The blonde beauty's graceful hands clawed desperately at the pale alien clinging to her throat. With a sudden exertion and growl of discomfort from Is, the creature was pitched to the dirt in front of her. She concentrated visibly and extended a hand in the direction of the hissing grayish bundle. Bit by bit, it started to fly apart - a quarter of it was gone, then half.

Suddenly Isabel couldn't concentrate on disintegrating the first attacker, because two more were whizzing to the attack. Is hardly skipped a beat as she used her powers to whip them punishingly into tree trunks, then returned to the first.

Alex craned his neck to get a better look at these dangerous life-forms without getting too close to any of them. They looked almost like... "Dust bunnies?"

"Killer *alien* dust bunnies," Isabel clarified. "Stay where you are, Alex, and if you must talk, then try to call out any of them that might be behind me? Use degree notation."

"What?" Alex was confused for a second. "Umm... there's one! Uh... one hundred forty degrees to your left, next to that old tree trunk." Isabel spun around and flung the dust bunny up into the sky. "And another, sixty degrees further over, on the second branch of that tree." Isabel concentrated and started to disintegrate that one. "Back ninety degrees..." But the bunny Alex had sighted was starting to disintegrate as it flew through the air, even though Isabel was still finishing the last one off. "What the..."

"That one was the father, the King bunny," Isabel explained, gesturing at the tree. "It's the end... for now. And thanks." She smiled gratefully at him, and Alex's knees buckled.

"It was nothing," Alex told her softly, walking over to meet her. Before he knew what he was doing, Alex had spread his arms around the girl of his dreams and kissing her.

Much to Alex's surprise, Isabel... let him. In fact, she was kissing back, as if she li-

"Hey, Whitman!" another familiar voice called. Isabel wasn't kissing him anymore. Where had she gone? And "Kyle, what are you doing here?"

"Well, it's a funny story," the voice of Kyle Valenti replied. "See, I was waiting in the L.A. bus terminal..."

The bus!! Dimly at first, and then suddenly with crushing clarity, Alex realized he was on the bus again... no, not again. He was on the bus to Tempe *still*, he had fallen asleep, and everything about meeting Isabel at the campus had been a strange dream. (Killer dust bunnies?!) Kyle was sitting on the seat across the aisle, and talking at him.

"...On a layover between the young buddhists of California meeting and heading up to Roswell to see my Dad, trying to avoid the more unpleasant individuals when who did I see waiting for an Arizona bus but Alex Whitman? And I remembered that Liz Parker was in Arizona and I realized 'Hey, I could do with a dose of Liz.' So I exchanged my Roswell ticket for Tempe, and got on the bus. I dunno what was up with you man, because I looked right into your face and you didn't notice me. Y'were too busy staring out the window. So... when we left Phoenix I thought you wouldn't mind me waking you up. I'm *really* feeling bored."

Alex yawned and tried to blink himself further awake. "We've left Phoenix??"

"About ten minutes ago," Kyle reported. "We should be arriving at the Tempe campus before long."

"Fine," Alex groaned. "I'll see you when we get there." And he turned away from Kyle to sulk out the window about his lost dream.

"Oh very funny," Kyle told him, slipping his way past and sitting in the seat between Alex and the window. "Like that'd be any decent way to treat an old friend. So, is it gonna be a reunion of the old gang at Tempe? Is Maria coming out??"

Alex sighed again.

* * * * *

"''...Vengeance is immature, yet there is justice. I became a juvenile masquerading as adult, much as you masqueraded as male. Now all is resolved, and I am whole, and my metamorphosis is becoming complete--''" Max passed the book off to the girl lying next to him, to take her turn.

"''But then you will forget all that has happened here!' she protested,'" Tess read with feeling, and the trace of a tear in her eye.

Max resumed reading, not taking the book back from his wife, just kind of looking over her shoulder. "'A third, fading effort. 'I -- will forget. The rigors and complexes of the juvenile state are too strong to permit maturity; must be cast aside. But you must inform them--''"

The penultimate chapter of 'Thousandstar' was fading to a close. Max had suggested that they read it together, having enjoyed the cluster books himself, and Tess was loving the story of romance and high adventure among bizarre alien species. (Was there any wonder?) They traded through a couple more paragraphs, and then Tess took the book and moved over to the chair in the bedroom for her big dramatic moment as Jessica, as she often did.

"''Oh, Heem, I'll never see you again. Not as I have known you! You won't even remember me, and I can't remind you, because that might undo your maturity.' She paused, in the far and fading distance.'" Tess posed cutely. "''Yet, maybe that is best. Our love was hopeless from the beginning. We should never have allowed it to happen. This way you, at least, will not suffer, and I'm glad for that.''"

Tess raised her hand to her forehead in Jessica-woe, at the same time showing the book out for Max to read a description. "'Then she was gone from his awareness, except for one especially strong concluding needle that momentarily banished his opacity:'"

"''I love you, Heem of Highfalls,''" Tess declared without even needing to look at the text herself. "''Farewell!'' And that is..."

"*Chapter,*" Max called out in unison with her. "Thoughts??"

"Piers may be a hack, but he knows his hack," Tess decided. "This stuff is right up there with the best moments of daytime drama. I can't wait to see what he's got planned for the last chapter. He has to find some way to reverse the amnesia plot, doesn't he?"

"You told me..." Max started.

"Yes, I know what I told you, don't spoil anything," Tess confirmed. "Well, I guess that's that for now. I'm gonna take another little nap. Tricking that android was tough."

"You gonna be okay?"

"Sure. Why don't you check on the progress of the plan? It's been a while." Tess smiled and settled back down on the bed, waving teasingly at Max as he left the room.

Michael spotted him down the hall as soon as Max had closed the door on Tess. "Fearless leader!"

Max headed up to the living room of the apartment. "Where do we stand?"

"Liz and the professor have drawn up about route maps for our space pod," Michael told him briskly. "Apparently, we're gonna need to go and lift some radio dingus from the astro labs here so that we can confirm which pathway it's taking. Then it's out to the open desert for a night of stargazing."

Max thought about that for a second, smiled, and headed over to Liz, who was sitting on the sofa and looking very tired but pleased. She still looked amazing, but the lust Max had felt for her earlier wasn't there anymore, (or at least not nearly as strongly.) She was just one of his oldest and dearest friends, who was putting forth an astounding effort to help them. "Got anyplace in mind for a skywatching session?" he asked her.

"Yeah." Liz smiled over at him. "There's a little abandoned cottage on a hilltop a few miles out of campus, past a wooded grove and in the opposite direction from town. You get almost no disruption from artificial lights and a great field of view." She grinned at him teasingly. "But first you've got another raid to go on, Mister Evans."

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To be continued...