Part XIV

It's finally happened. Finally happening. I can go home to Max and Michael and Isabel, and I don't need to worry. I could dance. I could sing, I could laugh out loud with pure joy. The people on the bus have glanced strangely once or twice at me, and my beaming smiles. What does the short, skinny blond in tight jeans and a sweater have to smile about so? With me I have a backpack. That's it. I'm hoping that when I get there, Isabel and I can shop for a new wardrobe. It gets hot in the desert, and the clothes I own are clothes for the end of winter in New York. There, the canyons are steel and concrete instead of glowing rock. Thinking of rock canyons and climbing them with the family I know I will finally, finally have makes me want to dance and sing and laugh.

But I don't know how to dance, I have never sung, and I do not remember the last time I laughed out loud. So I settle for quick smiles. It seems wrong to be happy under these circumstances, but in another way it seems right.

I will start from the beginning—well, no, that would go back too far.

I'll start with what happened the last time I 'talked' to Max… No, that's too far too. That was, well, over a year ago. I think. Nasedo isn't real big on calendars, and when you're on the run, days tend to blur together.

Okay, why don't I just start and explain as I go along?

Nasedo is dead. He tried to make a deal with Nicholas, and Nicholas double-crossed him. At least I think that's what happened. I wasn't there, so it's hard to know for certain. Nasedo was giving Lonnie and Rath a 'test.' And I am not talking about spelling here.

Ava (she's me-but-not-me) thinks that Lonnie and Rath got cocky and tried to strike a deal with Nicholas. She believes that part of that deal was for Lonnie and Rath to get rid of Nasedo. She thinks they 'accidentally' made a mistake, then couldn't undo it and their own power ate them. Nicholas showed up not an hour after it happened, demanding we hand over the granalith to him. We did not even know what the 'granalith' was.

We had to do it. I swear, we didn't plan it, but he was going to kill us. Zan and Ava worked together and unleashed this—this-- ball of energy straight out of Star Trek. I didn't know they could do that, but I threw…something at them. It felt like pulling something straight out of my heart to protect everyone I've ever known, or let myself care about here. It felt like pulling something out of a heart that loves me. A heart that's far away.

It's true, in my time I have met some bad people. But there's good people too. That's the difference with Zan and Ava and me as compared to Rath and Lonnie. Zan and Ava and me believe that the good people some how out weigh the bad ones. Rath and Lonnie only saw the bad. And in the end, it really was their loss.

It seems a high price to pay—too high maybe—but now that Nicholas and Nasedo are gone, and the rest of the skins blew themselves up. (I don't know why, I don't have all the answers, as humans reckon it I'm only about 15 and a half) So anyway, we discovered, you got it, the granalith. Well, not the real one. A replica you might say. But a functional one. And with it a manual.

With all three of us, it didn't take so long to figure it out. To, in a manner of speaking, decode it. Ava and Zan are more alien than human—I am more human than alien. It's a very odd mix, but well, hey. We share genes. We found out that there's another replica of the granalith in Roswell, but the real granalith is hidden somewhere on our home planet.

Each replica can transport four of us home. There are only six total, instead of the original eight. I have talked with Zan and Ava. We agreed that Zan should rule our world. And Ava, will stand beside him, helping him at every step along the way.

They want me to come with them. They say that if the others are so human, and remember so little they will be happier here…but I will not be really happy anywhere without them. I also am thinking of Ava, and me. We've learned to live with each other, but it's really, really scary to see your own face on someone else. Half the time I know what she will say before she says it. And she knows what I will say too. But we are not exactly the same. We are different people, the way identical twins, who have the same genes, are different people.

There are little habits of Ava's—for example, she flips her hair when she feels like she's being backed into a corner. I've caught myself doing the same thing, completely unconsciously. And we both bite our nails. And when she's thinking really hard, she plays with her earrings.

Zan doesn't really understand why we get so freaked out by the fact that we both like to dunk croissants in Tabasco laced coffee. But we've never disagreed about Zan. He is part of Ava. And even though Ava and I seem interchangeable to outsiders (Nasedo and Nicholas), we are not. Ava and Zan have a bond, one deeper than mine to Max.

But I understand that. They've been together since the day they came out of the pods. Max and I are thousands of miles apart. They have grown up exactly the same. They RELY on each other for everything, from watching each other's backs, to getting decent food. They are more alien, so they have stronger memories etc. And they have figured out how to use each other's powers, how to use each other's strengths, and how to compensate for flaws.

Not that I don't have a bond to Max. I do, and it's deep. It let me pull power from him though we're a continent apart when we had that showdown. Oh God, now I sound like I'm talking about something out of a bad science fiction movie. Or maybe a western. Appropriate since I'm somewhere in Oklahoma. My life suddenly seems disturbingly similar to a really bad cross between a western and a sci fi movie.

Never mind. So I've spent the majority of my time since I left Roswell on the run with Nasedo, and the majority of the past year with Zan and Ava.

And I was never tempted. Max is not Zan. Zan is not Max. Zan is Ava's soul mate. They are two halves of a coin. We said our goodbyes, and I watched them go home. Ava and I have had some difficulties. It's because we all have little traits, little quirks that are entirely our own. Our sense of self is as much wrapped up in twirling the ends of one's hair as the hair is wrapped around the finger. Suddenly meeting a stranger who twists her hair the exact same way, a girl who is wearing your face…well it puts you on the defensive. It's like being robbed of individuality.

Say what you will about the isolation and loneliness that comes with being a future alien queen, you sure do feel unique. And then there was this person who was like me in so many ways…but different. But we were still both REALLY defensive. We got over it enough to be cautious friends within a few weeks. We both wanted to get out of the New York slum, and out from under the thumbs of Nicholas and Nasedo. And she wanted a life with Zan, and I wanted one with Max.

Rath's crude jokes aside, Zan never looked at me the way he looks at Ava. And I think that eased the tension between us. After all, we had to share a face, a voice, gestures…but we weren't competing over a man.

Ava promised to take care of herself, of Zan, and our people. She even said I would be welcome to join her. Imagine!

Zan invited me and Max and Michael and Isabel to come any time we wanted. 'I'm sure we can find some way to use you.' He said—and I don't know if he was joking. But Ava will keep the thread of humanity strong. She won't let it snap, won't let him become what Nasedo and Nicholas were. And he'll do the same for her. He'll appreciate her, and love her. He won't let her slip away from him. He won't let her doubt herself too much.

So all in all the people of Antar are very lucky. They're getting a king and a queen who will be just. Who have felt the crushing weight of injustice, intolerance, and ignorance. Only those who have experienced it know how to combat it.

I am on my way to Roswell. To home.

I will tell them of course, that they can go 'home.' But I will tell them that once there they can't come back. I will tell them that Mr. and Mrs. Evans can't come, that if they leave, it's forever. They won't ever eat dinner together again.

It might not bother Michael so much, but he will stay with Isabel. And Isabel, despite how much she's grown in the years since we stood face to face, is still very much the Daddy's girl and Mama's angel. If I had parents like them, I wouldn't go. It's strange—Max is closest to me, but I know the least what he'll decide. I just know that I'll go with him…if he'll let me. Honestly, my greatest fear is that he'll want nothing to do with me. He was so angry when I left…and I can only hope he isn't angry still.

But after years apart, I know I can live in his world. I can live in it, and flourish in it. And I know that if he chooses, he can survive, and probably even prosper in the world we might have a hand in ruling.

I hope the Sheriff and Kyle aren't too mad either. I'll explain it to them the best that I can, "The man who raised me in the beginning contacted me and said he would kill everyone I care about if I didn't come with him to help him find an alien king. He had a gun. I tried to contact you. Did you ever get my letter?"

I did send a letter. I hope they got it, but you never know. "I got away from him a year ago and I've been working my way back to you. I missed you."

The Sheriff might pout a bit. (all men pout, some just disguise it better) He might ask why I didn't trust him, a Sheriff, with information like that while I was still in Roswell. I've learned the trick to lying. It's to tell as much of the truth as possible, and let the truth stand on its own. If people hear the truth in your voice they'll make whatever connections they have to make to believe you in their own heads.

And Kyle… Kyle is friends with Michael and Max and Isabel now. Thank God. I think he'll accept me back without too much fuss.

I just can't wait to get there.

I must've fallen asleep, because we just got into town. The bus has stopped. I hold tight to my backpack. I know the way by heart. In the years I've been away, I have visualized this millions of times. I've planned every detail, from the quickest way to get to Max and Isabel's house to the way I'll knock on the door, to what I'll say to Mrs. Evans, to what I'll say when I see them, to what I'll say to the Sheriff.

But my plan's already going south. Because I see Max on the next street corner, holding hands with the girl that attacked me the night I slept in her bed. Liz Parker.