Chapter 4: Settling

Everything followed the plan he had laid out. Solomon's prepared suitcase was waiting for him inside the hovercraft, and he changed into the irksome civilian clothes on board. The craft took him to Sherman, then a hover-limo took him into the city, and then a taxi driven by a G3 agent in disguise took him into the suburbs, where he waited for half an hour parked just two blocks away from the Lunis household.

At 10:00 AM sharp, he ordered the agent to take him in. He had considered coming in late or early, just to not seem so precise or obsessive, before deciding that he was leader of G3, protector of the earth, and the Lunises knew that. He wasobsessive and wouldn't be anything else with his job.

He had no doubt the aliens were prepared well before his arrival, and was not disappointed. Ilana opened the front door and came out to greet him right as he stepped out of the taxi. He gave the agent inside a nod, who nodded back and drove away without a word.

"Solomon, good morning!" Ilana called as she approached him. She was dressed in purple today, with a lavender shirt, violet pants, and a loose white sweater. The gentle combination of both light and dark shades gave a calming impression, as if she were about to go to a spa.

Lance and the robot (in its 'Mr. Lunis' disguise) stood by the door skeptically. But as Solomon refocused his attention on Ilana, he was taken by surprise when she took his free hand in both of hers.

"I'm glad you're here," she said, smiling at him. "Come in, come in. Is that your only bag?"

She began gently pulling him towards the door and Solomon slowly followed, suddenly very aware that this was really happening. He mentally shook himself, trying to be grounded in the moment.

"Yes, it is," he answered her, glancing down at it.

The suitcase had been meticulously designed for his needs. It contained his spare clothes, hygiene material, some money and cards (he actually wasn't sure where the Lunises got their funds, cash just seemed to appearfor them, but better safe than sorry), and a laptop. Solomon normally did his duties on holo-screens, yet that would not fit in with civilian life, so the laptop would have to suffice. It had the best security G3 could muster, advanced hard drives, instant connection to G3 HQ, and all while appearing as a regular computer.

There were no weapons, as he doubted the Lunises would tolerate that, nor any other forms of G3 technology besides the laptop.

"Light packer, huh?" Ilana asked. Lance and the robot stepped aside as Ilana pulled him through the door. He felt a slight buzz in his chest as he crossed the threshold, and dimly wondered if the Lunises had something there or if it was just him. Ilana began leading him up the stairs. "Come, let me show you your new room."

Solomon examined her for signs that she was forcing this cheerfulness, but he only saw real excitement in her. He understood better when she opened one of the doors in the hall, and Solomon saw it was fully furnished.

Some G3 agents had glimpsed the Lunises' rooms, and given small reports. Ilana's was filled with pillows, comforts, and decorations, while Lance's and the robot's were more sparse. Solomon had expected as much for his own, and indeed, didn't need anything more, either.

But this room was designed. The first thing he noticed when he walked in was that the majority was colored in white, grey, and black. There was a carpet of a striped pattern of the three shades on the floor, covering most of the wooden floorboards. The window had ash-grey curtains, the bed underneath it had a black comforter with a white stripe. There was a grey bedside table set with an alarm, black lamp, and even lotions. On the other end of the room was a dresser that matched the bedside table, and above it was a large framed picture that showed a multicolored nebula, with bursting swirls of indigo and milky azure. There was also a desk with its own lamp, sheets of paper ready, and a matching chair.

There were just a few spots of red speckled about the room that immediately drew the eye. One was a candle that rested on the dresser, another was a coaster that was on the bedside table, a third was a decorative pillow on the bed, and the last were the red pencils and sharpener on the desk.

To most other people it would have seemed drab with the lack of real color, but Solomon was a bit overwhelmed by the sight of it.

"Ta-da!" Ilana called, waving her arms to the room. "I figured this fit your style."

Actually, it fit him perfectly. It reminded him of his uniform, down to the bits of red of his vest, scarf, and hat.

"Quite," he said softly in the doorway, still scanning the room and picking up more details. A hot water bottle at the foot of the bed, some spare towels on the dresser, an extra power outlet attached to the lamp on the desk.

"If there's anything you'd like to add to it, or shift around, we can do that," Ilana went on, starting to walk about the room and making gestures with both arms. "I, personally, don't like my bed in the corner. I like mine in the center of the room, but I'm told this is how most people prefer it. You also might not like it to be by the window, so we could move it if you want."

She turned to him, still with that smile that seemed unconquerable. "Of course, there's not much I could do for personal items, but I figured that picture of the stars suited you fine. We can do more later, though."

Solomon blinked at her. He didn't have any'personal' items. He wasn't a very sentimental person. Yet she offered them easily.

Solomon realized that Lance and the robot had come up behind him, and with a small swallow, he stepped into the room, looking around. Part of him didn't want to disturb it, a bit shocked that someone had taken the time to design something for him.Ilana had considered his personality and reflected that into how she arranged his room.

She had clearly put a lot of thought into it. And, he had to admit, he liked it better than anything he would have designed himself. She evidently had him down.

Of course, he would, eventually, be poking around for any cameras or recording devices in here. Yet for now, he appreciated the gesture.

"…This is very generous of you," Solomon managed. He didn't have an eye for prices, having rarely considered money on the smaller scale since he handled the enomormus funds of G3. Besides what was obvious, he didn't very well know the value of an item on sight. But he knew that these couldn't have been inexpensive.

He decided not to comment on money, however. The Lunises didn't seem to have a problem with it; they had bought a comfortable home mere weeks after crashing to earth, and though they weren't frivolous, they didn't struggle financially either. Perhaps Solomon could figure out where their funds came from in his time here.

Solomon brought his thoughts back to the present. "Thank you," he said to Ilana. He wasn't very practiced with that phrase, but he knew he'd have to master it during his stay here. Now, however…it felt inadequate.

Lance, who was leaning against the doorjamb, snorted. "She should be thanking you. She had a lot of fun arranging all this."

Solomon glanced in at the male alien and the robot, and realized that Ilana probably dragged one of them, or both, to the mall with her when she picked all this out. The data gathered by G3 spies suggested that when the aliens went out, they usually kept together. In part he thought it was because of the unfamiliar culture, but it also might be so they could form Titan when necessary.

"Lance!" Ilana's tone was scolding, but her expression held nothing but fondness and amusement. She smiled sheepishly at Solomon. "Alright, it's true, I did have a fun time picking out things."

She waved her hand and spoke conversationally. "When we first moved here, I had a blastchoosing all our furniture. I arranged all of our rooms, except for Lance's…which I still could,"she added, with a sly glance to the boy.

"No," Lance said easily. "I like mine as it is."

"There's nothing there but your bed, desk, and some exercise equipment!" Ilana laughed.

"That's all I need."

She rolled her eyes and returned her attention to Solomon. "Fun as it was, I promise I won't be insulted if you change it. I did it all to make youcomfortable, Solomon."

And that was a small marvel of its own.

"It is very nice," Solomon answered. "I can't think of any way to make it better."

Ilana beamed at him, and then shrugged her shoulders. "Well, if you think of anything, we'd be happy to help you shift things around. Sorry nothing comes out of the walls, though."

She gave him a little wink and Solomon's mouth twitched in a smile. Though he had provided Lance and Ilana with advanced, state-of-the-art quarters on G3 that would satisfy anything they might have needed, somehow this room they'd created for him seemed to outshine it.

Ilana folded her hands together in front of her. "So, do you want to unpack now, or would you care for a tour?"

Solomon already knew the layout of the house, even if he hadn't seen all of it himself, but this was clearly an opportunity to spend time with the Lunises. He would take it.

"A tour would be welcome," he said, setting his suitcase down on the bed.

Ilana led the way, Solomon, Lance, and the robot trailing behind her. She started with the second floor, since they were there already, pointing to the doors in the hall.

"That's my room on the end, and that's Lance's, and there's Octus's, and that one's the bathroom," she said. "The laundry basket's in there, of course."

She didn't open any to show, but Solomon carefully noted how Lance's room was directly across from his own. Clearly, the male alien was the most protective of the home, closely followed by the robot. He glanced at the robot's door, knowing that some form of advanced alien technology rested behind there, but he had been instructed to stay away, so he tried to push the temptation to explore from his mind.

Ilana descended down the stairs and pointed to the room on the left. "That way leads to the garage—we don't actually use the room between it for much, besides storing our coats or backpacks and such. Of course, you know the living room—"

She turned right into the living room, and they followed her through a door on the end. "Here's the kitchen!" She spun around to face Solomon. Solomon glanced it over; it had white cupboards and black counters, and a skylight that illuminated it quite well. There was a table on one end with four chairs, with flowers in the center. "We try to eat together when we can. Octus makes all our meals, and handles the dishes most of the time. I guess we'll have lunch in about two hours, right, Octus?"

"Yes, that is the plan," the robot answered.

So the robot handled most of their chores and served them. Solomon wasn't too surprised, but he still found it curious. The robot was clearly designed to serve, but it was odd to think of how powerful and advanced the machine was, defending the home and joining as Titan, doing the daily tasks of a parent. Solomon wondered how well Lance and Ilana had gotten along without it in that aspect. They were children,after all.

It was only at that moment that Solomon realized that the robot would be serving himnow as well. The thought did not sit well with him, being taken care of,yet he wasn't exactly a master of home upkeeping himself. He firmly decided to not overthink it.

"How kind of it to handle such things," Solomon said with all the genuineness he could muster.

Something crossed both Lance's and Ilana's faces, something displeased, and Solomon pretended not to notice while his mind scrambled to think of what he had done.

"Yes, he is," Lance said lowly, leaning against the kitchen wall.

He.

Ah. So that was it. Solomon would have to change how he thought of the robot, or Lance and Ilana might be offended. He didn't mind altering little things so much, yet he'd have to be careful.

Well, this was as good a time as any to pose this particular question.

"I meant to ask," Solomon began, glancing at the robot. "What should I call your robot? He has multiple disguises, and in this form," Solomon gestured to it, "he is known as 'Mr. Lunis.' Yet I saw on records that its first name is Isaac."

"Hisname is Octus,"Lance spat with no small amount of spite. "That is what we call him."

Solomon berated himself for slipping already. Even Ilana looked unsure.

The robot was silent, and its—his—expression revealed nothing.

"In the presence of others, we call Octus the name of whatever disguise he is taking at the time," Ilana answered him slowly. "That would be 'Newton' for his teenage disguise. As for this one…" she trailed off, looking at the robot unsurely. "Well, you're pretending to be his brother, so I guess you should call him Isaac."

Lance snorted. "I doubt Barb will change to that."

Solomon gave the male alien a look, trying to figure out what that meant, as Ilana turned and headed through another door. "And here's the garage, back around."

Ilana opened the door briefly to show and Solomon got a glimpse of the car Lance and the robot—Octus, he corrected himself fiercely—had designed. Solomon and a few agents in disguise had slipped into an impound lot when the car had been confiscated for street racing shortly after its creation (a story Solomon still wished he had all the details of), and he knew there was more to it than met the eye. There was some integration of alien technology within it, but of course, there was no way for G3 to truly dig deep enough to find out without the Lunises' knowing.

"So that's our home," Ilana said, turning back to him. "I hope you can be comfortable here. I had a few ideas for the day, but I thought—well—are you tired?" She tilted her head. "Did you have to travel long?"

Solomon blinked, not expecting such a question. "G3 vehicles can travel at high speeds," he answered truthfully, but vaguely. He had no desire to reveal G3 HQ's location to the Lunises—if only for the reason that his superior would kill him.Between arriving early and switching from vehicle to vehicle and waiting down the block to get here, the trip had taken him roughly two hours, but now that he was here, he was quite invigorated.

Ilana sensed he was dodging around the subject, so she let it drop. "Alright, then. I was reading about some earth board games and have been meaning to try some. If you're up for that, we can do that together, or I can come up with something else. Or would you like some time to unpack?"

Board games.The aliens wanted him to play board games.

Solomon knew when he'd agreed that he would have to act as a civilian. The point of this mission was to follow the Lunises and watch them, so he was quite willing to trail along wherever they went and participate in whatever they did.

But—board games.

He smiled, amused. "I can wait to unpack. Games would be fine."

And so, they all went to the living room and took their seats. This time, Solomon waited until they were all seated until he chose his spot; the robot moved to the couch with Ilana, so Solomon and Lance took the individual chairs. Solomon was grateful for being able to see out the window this time, and thought maybe that was why Lance had chosen his place as well.

Ilana had apparently bought several 'earthen board games' on her last shopping trip. She hadn't opened any of them, so they were all wrapped in plastic, but she brought them all out and tore them all open. She had chosen the most generic and well-known games; Monopoly, Scrabble, Clue, Risk, Uno, and Chinese Checkers. But she knew nothing about any of them.

Lance wasn't much help. "That one looks good," he said, pointing to Risk's cover of a battle.

"Risk is known for taking several hours to play. It's often very hard to finish in one sitting," Octus offered.

"Let's not start with that one, then," Ilana said, and Lance looked disappointed. She gave him a kind look. "Later, Lance, I'm sure it'll be fun."

She turned conversationally to Solomon. "The only earthen board game we've played before is checkers and chess. Games have never quite suited us before—because Octus always wins and Lance isn't much of a player. But many of our classmates seem to have grown up on these games, so it would be useful to know more about them. And plus, it's fun."

"I see," Solomon commented, noting how, again, the Lunises did what they could to learn more about common earth culture and fit in.

Ilana crossed off Monopoly for the same reasons as Risk, and narrowed it down between Clue and Chinese Checkers. At one point she asked Solomon for advice, but he deflected by saying he hadn't played any of these games in a very long time.

Finally she settled on Clue, and opened the box, unfolded the board, and placed the pieces across the table. Octus picked out Professor Plum—no surprise there. Ilana debated between the three female characters before selecting Mrs. White. Lance, when he heard one character was a Colonel, picked out the yellow piece, leaving Solomon with Mr. Green. He tried not to think of his uniform as Kane, but he'd rather not play Mrs. Peacock or Miss Scarlet.

The robot, having apparently already downloaded the instructions, began to sort out cards while Ilana took out the directions.

She started to read them aloud for the group. "'Mr. Boddy,'"she began, "'—apparently the victim of foul play—is found in one of the rooms of his mansion. To win, you must determine the answers to these three questions: 1) "Who done it?" 2) Where? And 3) How?' Wait, we haven't even begun and someone's already been murdered? These directions say ages eight and up!"

"Why would we have to guess where he was killed if we found his body? Wouldn't we know?" Lance asked.

Solomon tilted his head as the robot answered. "The story isn't important—the focus is the gameplay. Keep reading."

Ilana did as instructed, reading the rest of the directions aloud, the words slowly bringing up memories to Solomon of when he'dplayed the game, long, long ago. The robot swiftly arranged the cards in the 'Classified'envelope and then dealt them out to the group. Solomon examined his briefly, and then Ilana asked him to go first. He tried to refuse, but she claimed he was the guest, so he went, though was unable to reach a room in his first nor second turn from his low roll of the dice.

Lance, however, reached the dining room when his second turn came, and so the suspicions began.

"How could Mrs. White murder anyone?" Lance asked at one point. "She's just an old lady."

Ilana looked somewhat offended. "Don't tell me youdon't know any tough old people, Lance."

"Not on this planet," he shot back.

Strong elders,Solomon noted.

"Clearly, many of these weapons do not require physical strength to use, like the revolver," the robot commented.

"Alright, that I get—but the lasso?"

"It's more about the gameplay, Lance," Ilana sighed. "The cards are random—you saw Octus put them in."

"It's not the most sensible design, though," Lance continued. "I mean, there are so many other ways to look for clues. And we shouldn't be wandering alone with a murderer on the loose."

"Lance, just take your turn."

Low and behold, Mrs. White didprove to be the murderer, with the rope, in the hall, as determined unsurprisingly by Octus.

"See, that doesn't make any sense," Lance said.

Ilana rolled her eyes and they played again, yet they were only just started when both Solomon and Lance noticed something outside.

"Oh, no," muttered Lance.

"What?" Ilana asked, turning around. "Oh, it's Barb."

The red-haired neighbor had left her home and was swiftly crossing the street, heading right for the Lunis home. She had a cheery smile and confidence in her step. Solomon knew plenty of facts about the woman, but little about her personality besides she was an active member of the neighborhood. He suddenly felt he was in for something.

"Ah. She undoubtedly saw Solomon's arrival," the robot said.

"And she stayed away for this long? I'm impressed," Lance muttered.

Ilana shot him a displeased look. "Don't be rude."

"You know her well?" Solomon asked neutrally. The neighbor was right on the walkway now, entering the Lunis yard.

The three aliens exchanged glances. "Barb is very…friendly."

Solomon wasn't sure how to interpret that, but then there was a swift knock on the door before it swung open. Solomon was somewhat taken by surprise—didn't the Lunises have a lock?

"Hellooooo?Mind if I come in?" Ms. Jackson peeked in and beamed at them from the door. "Awwww, playing a game? I can crush anyone at Scrabble!"

Ilana and the robot stood swiftly to welcome their guest, Lance rising with clear annoyance. Solomon stood but kept back as the neighbor approached.

"Good morning, Barb," Ilana greeted eloquently to the new arrival. "Always a pleasure to have you visit." Solomon watched Ilana for any traces of untruth, any signs that she too was annoyed by this woman like her companions. But still, he saw none.

"You're just the sweetest, Ilana," Ms. Jackson responded with an equal smile.

But once compliments were traded, Ms. Jackson's focus zipped right onto Solomon. As those aggressively curious eyes locked onto him, Solomon somehow knew at once that she would burrow through just about anything to find his secrets.

Well. She wouldn't get any.

"Now who might this be?" Ms. Jackson practically chasséd closer to him, and without moving a single muscle, he commanded his ring of personal space. Even so, she stopped right on the line. "You three don't normally have friends over."

"This," Ilana said, fast coming up from behind Ms. Jackson to regain a handle on the situation, "is actually the newest member of the neighborhood, Barb. I'd like you to meet our uncle; Solomon."

And just like that, he was officially in the public domain.

"Uncle?" Ms. Jackson repeated, blinking in surprise. She looked between Solomon and the robot. "Your brother?"

"Yes," the robot answered simply.

"My, my,"she looked him up and down with more expression than Solomon was used to seeing on other human beings. "I see some traits are quite common in your family."

…He wasn't exactly sure what that was supposed to mean, but he knew he didn't like it. Beside him, Lance huffed.

"Welcome to the neighborhood—Solomon, right?" Solomon had to resist the urge to twist away as she reached forward and took his hand, instead doing his best to remain loose and relaxed. "It's a lovely area here, I'm sure you'll love it—where are you from?"

G3 already had a story prepared for that question. "I travel around, though I am most familiar with the West Coast."

"Oh, how exciting! Does that mean you're just visiting, or here to stay?"

"I hope to be here for some time, but my line of work can be…unpredictable." That statement was totally true. His time here resided entirely on the whims of the three aliens.

"And what's your line of work?"

"Financial advisor."

"Oooo." Ms. Jackson slathered her tone in a way that set off distinct warning bells in Solomon's mind. "Well, I'm sure everyone will be delighted to meet such a—" she glanced him up and down yet again, tone suddenly taking a dip, "—refinedman. You all are planning to come to the barbeque this weekend, right?"

Ms. Jackson turned to Ilana and the robot expectantly. Lance, on her other side and out of view, looked supremely annoyed.

Ilana nodded eagerly. "Wouldn't miss it, Barb."

Ms. Jackson shot another sly look towards Solomon. "I'll make some extra guacamole dip for you. You won't want to miss out on that."

Ilana seemed to be the only one here who didn't seem bothered by Ms. Jackson. Even the robot looked unsure of himself. Solomon was trying to avoid attention and observe the situation, but Ms. Jackson kept shooting him sparkling smiles. Solomon was grateful Ilana was making such attempts to draw the woman's focus away. "Very kind of you, Barb. Care to join us? We were just about to start a new game."

"Oh, you are too kind, Ilana," Ms. Jackson cooed, before settling herself onto the couch. "Of course I will!"

And just like that, the whole dynamic Solomon had been attentively studying completely changed. Ms. Jackson dominated the conversation, jabbering away, further quieting the already-few-worded Lance and Octus. She spent a good five minutes debating to play as Mrs. Peacock or Miss Scarlet—because apparently the identical-in-every-way-except-for-color pieces had some form of personality—before settling on Miss Scarlet. Ilana played a gracious host, retrieving drinks and listening eagerly to Ms. Jackson's rambles. For a while, Ms. Jackson seemed content to trade news on the weather and the state of her garden with Ilana, but it wasn't long before the intruder narrowed in her focus back on Solomon.

"So, Solomon," Ms. Jackson said as she rolled the dice and knocked Lance's piece from his spot. Lance didn't look like he cared, but Octus replaced it to its square. "Your brother here is always so secretive." She raised an eyebrow suggestively. "Perhaps you can fill me in on the dirt."

Doubt that.

"Do you two have any other siblings?"

A bit of relief entered the tension of his shoulders, but he did not let his guard down. "No. Just the two of us."

"And on your sister-in-law's side?"

"She was an only child," Solomon said, glancing at the robot. This could rapidly spiral out of control in the most ignorant of ways. Solomon knew every bit of the Lunises' fabricated life, but that could be entirely different from the lies they had spun for Ms. Jackson.

Luckily, Ilana came to the rescue. "Barb, why don't you tell Uncle Solomon about the community?"

And thus spurted a rant about everyone who lived on the block, yearly parties and celebrations, the most adorable and sweetest and perfect children on the street (all of them), community practices, and other everyday drivel. Solomon balanced between being polite but quiet, but in truth he was annoyed. The Lunises, of course, guarded their secrets more carefully with an ignorant human in the room than if it were just him and them. He knew he could not dominate their entire time while he stayed with them, but he had hoped for longer at the beginning.

Solomon listened resignedly to Ms. Jackson's tirade, knowing that being familiar with the neighborhood could potentially prove useful in the future. Information was never something to pass up, especially if it had anything to do with the Lunises.

"…And Mr. and Mrs. Acre, who are a delightful couple with two little children—they just had their ten-year anniversary last week," Ms. Jackson's rambles went. "So, tell me, Solomon, is there anyone special in your life?"

Solomon paused mid-sip of the coffee Ilana had fetched for all of them. Ms. Jackson was certainly digging around in personal areas he did not care to engage in. But being rude to a neighbor wouldn't endear him to the Lunises. So he set the mug down and softly said, "I consider myself married to my work." He hoped that would make her clear on the matter.

She deflated like a flat tire. "Workaholic, huh?" Ms. Jackson said, now disappointed, which boded well. "Well, hopefully you'll find some other things of interest around town. Sherman is such a wonderful place, with so many attractions and amazing things. And you must spend time with your brother, niece, and nephew, huh?"

"I intend to," he responded calmly.

Thus bloomed another long conversation about all the museums, parks, restaurants, sports centers, shops, and other notable locations around the city worth a visit. Solomon silently counted the minutes, almost two hours, before Ms. Jackson finally began to bid her goodbyes.

"Look at the time! I've kept you all too long." She set aside her cup and stood from the couch.

"Nonsense, Barb, I'm glad you could join our game," Ilana assured. "The more the merrier."

They had only gotten through about three more games of Clue, as Ms. Jackson was sidetracked easier than a moth in a cathedral full of candles. She kept stopping her turn, or other people's, to tell a story, which delayed suspicions and made them forget whose turn it was. Even Ilana lost track of who was supposed to go when (and Lance didn't care), but the robot always remembered and reminded them. Solomon didn't particularly mind; just one less thing to focus on.

"It's been a pleasure to meet you, Solomon," Ms. Jackson went on, reaching forward and taking his hand. He repressed a grimace.

"It has been nice to make your acquaintance as well, Ms. Jackson," Solomon replied, gently removing his hand from hers.

"Now, now, none of that 'Ms. Jackson' business," Barb shook her head. "Don't sound like such a stranger! We're neighbors now." She then tilted her head, her face warping with confusion. "But hold on—how do you know my last name? I didn't mention it."

An abrupt silence descended on them as everyone realized Solomon's mistake. Internally, Solomon cursed himself furiously. How could he have been so foolish?! He was the leader of G3, a secret agent, and he had just made a reckless blunder.

Ilana covered for him easily. "Oh, we've mentioned you to him once or twice before, Barb," she lied smoothly.

"Oh," Ms. Jackson said. She relaxed a bit, but didn't look entirely convinced. "I see. You know, I'm a little disappointed you guys didn't mention you had an uncle."

Solomon, who, despite his recent slipup, did have training in cover stories and deception, answered himself. "I've often been too preoccupied with my work to visit much."

"I see," Ms. Jackson said skeptically. "I am sorry to hear about your mother, by the way."

Ah yes, the cover story for the Lunises' disappearance. Ms. Jackson was watching him closely now. "Thank you," he murmured.

Ilana escorted Barb to the door, being reminded yet again about the barbeque, and finally, finally, the nosy woman left.

"Well," Lance said, watching out the window as Ms. Jackson crossed the street back to her home, "You made it through the first Barb visit."

"Lance," Ilana berated.

"Does she visit you often?" Solomon asked curiously. His agents had a few weeks of close observance to get an idea of the Lunises' routines, to know that usually they set themselves away from others. But because of his superior's orders, his spies' information was limited.

"Yes," Lance answered.

"He's exaggerating," Ilana said to Solomon. "Lance just doesn't like people coming over. Barb does probably visit us the most, but she only comes about once or twice a week."

"Too much," Lance commented.

"She's a very nice person!" Ilana defended.

Solomon, however, was calculating this into his cover. 'Once or twice a week' was something he should plan for. It seemed Ms. Jackson was going to be a usual occurrence in this mission.

"Well," Ilana said, after shooting Lance a final disapproving glare, "It's past noon now. Hungry?"

Ilana had said that the robot prepared many of their meals, but that apparently didn't mean that she didn't help. They all went to the kitchen as a group, Lance setting himself aside at the bar to watch, and, after a moment's consideration, Solomon joined him. Much as he knew to be cautious with the suspicious male alien, it would probably be best to keep out of the path of the kitchen. At least Lance didn't seem to mind when Solomon sat beside him.

Solomon listened to the robot and Ilana discuss what to make, what foods they had, what they needed to buy their next grocery trip, and so on, as they worked together. They mixed, boiled, stirred, for about half an hour before they presented their dish. It was not recognizable by usual earth standards, but Solomon knew it from the Sherman High School menu. Some months ago, Ilana had organized new food options for her classmates. G3 had gathered samples, tested it, and replicated it, suspecting it could be for some nefarious, poisonous plot at the time. But it had all been proven safe and healthy. Solomon himself had tried a bit. He tried to differentiate if this meal was something he'd sampled before or something new as he took his place at the table.

"Do you like to cook?" Solomon asked as Ilana set a plate before him.

She shrugged. "It's a fun thing to do with other people." She began to pass out forks. "This recipe is actually a version of something we cook from—" she paused, searching for a proper word, "—from home. Of course, we don't have the same ingredients here, but Octus has figured out ways to substitute."

Solomon had suspected as much, but to hear anyinformationabout their home planet made him lean forward with rapt fascination. "Really."

Lance eyed him as Ilana went on. "Of course, we also try earth recipes, but it's nice to have something similar to our own once in a while."

"I'm sure," Solomon agreed, filing away that Ilana liked to have things that reminded her of home, and he should look out for them. He wondered—what parts of the house were just normal decorations, and what parts had extraterrestrial inspiration?

Solomon ate with them, remembering how less than a year ago, he would have neveraccepted food or drink from these aliens, at least not without testing it first. But now, he doubted they would have it in them to even poison an enemy. He wasn't exactly sure how the Lunises saw him right now—intruder? Spy? Ally? Certainly not part of their family—but not an enemy, he was confident of that.

After lunch, they played Risk, as Lance requested. Solomon quickly discovered how cutthroat the game could be, and Lance swiftly got invested. The robot, though level-headed as always, still played to win. Solomon subtlety allied himself with Ilana, as she was the only one of which he was sure wouldn't stab him in the back. Her nonaggressive and compassionate tendencies quickly had her retreating, and soon she and Solomon were back-to-back (thankfully agreeing not to fight each other), as Lance and Octus snipped their forces away. Soon, the two of them were out of the game, and observed the robot and the boy go head-to-head. Solomon watched closely as the 'battle' dragged on, and to his surprise, Lance ended up triumphing.

"You didn't let me win, did you?" Lance asked the robot skeptically.

"No, I know you would not appreciate that," the robot responded, though Solomon wasn't entirely convinced he was lying.

The game had taken several hours, and Ilana suggested a walk before dinner. They ventured around the neighborhood, Ilana pointing out the houses of the people Ms. Jackson had told him about, and waving to people they passed. The Lunises talked about coming back to their home after being gone for so long with Octus's absence—the wonder of the neighbors, the explanations to the school, and some angry rant they alluded to from a girl named 'Kimmy' (they became uncomfortable when mentioning that, so Solomon didn't push)—before they all headed home.

Ilana and Octus prepared a 'special' dinner to welcome Solomon, which he found a kind gesture. The 'foo-foo' (a strange term) was very good, and at the end of the meal, they had a surprise for him.

"Here," Ilana said, drawing a small, wrapped box from her pocket and sliding it across the table to him. He blinked at it in confusion. It was only a few inches long and wide, easily able to fit in one of his hands. It was wrapped in yellow paper and tied with a red bow. "We wanted to give this to you."

"You got me something?" Solomon said disbelievingly. It had been a very, very long time since he had been given any form of gift. And out of all people to give him something, the Lunises were the last ones he would expect…well, save Steel.

He looked at Lance, who only seemed bored, not angry or annoyed about the prospect of said gift. Tentatively, Solomon drew the present closer, tracing its edges and the ribbon. Part of him was filled with wonder on the box alone.

"It seemed appropriate," Ilana said with a shrug. "It's…well, you should just open it."

Solomon had no idea what it could be. He carefully untied the ribbon and then unfolded the wrapping paper. When he lifted the box lid to reveal what was inside, he went completely still.

"Surprise!" Ilana said.

Solomon didn't take his eyes off it. Surely it couldn't be…?

A watch. A watch settled amongst bits of torn paper in the box. But it wasn't just any watch. He knew the curve of the strap, the twist of the lug, the twin crowns on both sides, the odd symbols that might be alien lettering or simply decorative designs that marked the bezel. At first glance, this item looked just like a version of a watch, the time-telling device found everywhere on earth. On second glance, it looked like a fancy one, with extra technological modifications. But to someone who really studied it, as Solomon had, it was clearly not from earth. G3 scientists had poured over Lance and Ilana's watches during their capture. After Solomon had returned the devices to the teens and realized what they were for—their armor,and furthermore, Titan itself—G3's fascination had only intensified. Of course, by then they were only left with scans to study. And everyone knew it would be incredibly difficult to swipe the watches from Lance and Ilana again.

Solomon had memorized the scans of the watches just as every other G3 agent had. He knew every detail about them he could. Ilana and Lance's were different from each other just as their armors were different. But this one in front of him was like neither. It was black and yellow, for one, the yellow bits only appearing in the face of the watch. It did not have the narrow, slim strap that Ilana's did, but was closer to Lance's straight band. There were a few visible wires between the lug and the band, woven into its edge, but the alien symbols and blinking letters were similar to Lance's.

He looked up at Ilana. "This isn't…?"

"It's not armor," she said immediately. "No, not like mine and Lance's. But it is a communicator. With that, you can contact me, Lance, and Octus on our own frequency." She gave him a teasing smile. "We don't really use cell phones."

His mind whirled at all this could mean. Could they track him through this? Most likely, but not much of an issue while he was living here. Was this his to keep,or only so long as he was in their care? What were the differences between the Lunises' communications and just a regular cell phone's? G3 had always struggled to tap into their calls. Did this have particular ties to the robot? Would it monitor his vitals?

"It can do a few other things, too," Ilana explained, and Solomon listened fixatedly. "Like instantly put you in a spacewalk suit. Or spacesuit, as you earthlings often refer to it. That wasn't difficult to add, and we figured it might come in handy for you. The suit has unlimited power and oxygen, so you won't have to worry about running out again." She gave him that teasing smile again, and he remembered how he had blacked out on the Saturn station. Certainly not an experience he'd want to go through again.

"Like the suits you wore?" he questioned, remembering their slim, blue, bubble-headed frames. Lance and Ilana had displayed far more flexible and free movement in their suits than Solomon had in his bulkier G3 unit. Which was a tad ironic, as G3 spacesuits were the slimmest and most comfortable that earth had to offer.

She nodded. "Yes, exactly."

Unlimited power and oxygen. If Solomon were to tell his scientists that, they might have feinted.

"Unlimited power?" Solomon forced himself to say.

"Oh, whoops, my bad," Ilana said, lifting a hand to her mouth apologetically. "It's not like that little thing could power a city."

The robot spoke up. "It can generate enough power to perform all of its required functions without any need for rechange. You could wear the spacewalk suit as long as you wanted, and it would not short out."

Solomon reminded himself of when Ilana had been forced out of her armor, after Steel had fired that blasted nuclear laser at her. Neither of their armors seemed to need recharged, nor did the robot, but when they took too much damage, they overheated and shut down. Despite these alien's strength, they weren't invincible.

"Other things it can do are similar to cell phones," Ilana continued. "It can tell you the atmosphere conditions around you, calculate math if you wish, and Octus has made it perfectly compatible with other earthen communicators. You can call whoever you want on it. We also decided to add a little something special…if I may?"

She held out her hand, and Solomon slid the box back to her. He still hadn't taken the watch out of it, and Ilana removed it and then fastened it around her own wrist, just above her own golden one. She then pushed out her chair, got up from her seat, and walked to the center of the kitchen. Solomon had to turn in his chair to see her as she lifted her arm and pressed the crown on both ends of the watch.

Solomon tensed, recognizing the movement as what they did to activate their armors, but rather than a flash of light and appearance of a weaponized robotic suit, an energized dome appeared around Ilana. It was just like that generated by her golden armor. It was a bit too big for the kitchen, and part of it bent around the island, but it was clearly a protective shield.

Solomon's instinctual observations shorted out in his mind as he realized they were giving this to him.

"You wish me to have this?" Solomon said aloud, aghast. He glanced back at Lance, expecting to see hatred and unconcealed loathing, but the male alien just looked tired, even resigned.

Ilana removed her hand from the watch and the shield dissipated. She slipped it off her wrist and fiddled with it a bit. "Well…" she glanced away. "You see, we're not exactly the—" she pursed her lips, "safest people to be around." Solomon's mind flashed over the carefully catalogued destruction that was attracted to the Lunises like flies to open meat. "And if you're going to be living close to us, we realized that there might be situations that would put you in danger. You're a capable fighter, but it only seemed fair to offer you some extra protection." She looked at him, absolute sincerity in her wide, trusting eyes. "It wouldn't be fair if you got hurt while you were with us."

That made sense, but still. Again, Solomon looked back at Lance. He debated the risks, and then decided to be straightforward. "Are you all in agreement about this?"

"We debated it for a while, but yes," the robot answered.

Ilana approached Solomon and held out the watch to him. He stared at it, but didn't take it, not yet convinced.

"Aren't you worried that I might copy the technology?" he asked.

"It's not like our armors," Ilana said again. "And if you try to hack our communications, Octus will know. But we figured this technology wouldn't do any more harm than the knowledge G3 already has. At least, not much."

Solomon tried to wrap his mind around that. G3 did have energy-shield technology—in their prison cells, around their power grids, and a few other vital locations. But those shields required a tremendous amount of energy and weren't nearly as durable, transportable, or instantaneous as the Lunises'. Or was she referring to how G3 had already inspected the remains of the robot? If so, she was overestimating them. G3 scientists hadn't understood a single wire of the thing. Well, except for his superior.

"We also don't want your agency being ticked off at us if you get hurt," Lance added.

"Lance!"

"What?" he shot back to Ilana. "That's the main thing you said that convinced me."

Solomon found himself allowing a small smile. "Wise of you, actually." He wasn't sure what his agents would do if he were hurt in the Lunises' care. They had all insisted he was 'too valuable,' but he hadn't really considered it in-depth. He supposed it would depend on the circumstances surrounding his injury or demise. Frankly, he wasn't too concerned. He was a skilled fighter, practiced in stealth and evasion, and the Lunises had proven their strength time and again. Though, he supposed he should give it some thought in the future, as to prepare for a worst-case scenario.

Now better understanding their reasons behind this gift, Solomon gingerly accepted the watch from Ilana. He held it gently in both of his hands, as if it were stained glass.

"If I may ask…" he began unsurely, "Did you make this?" Were the skilled enough to construct more armors, or at least more shield-generators like this? Or had they had this particular watch stored somewhere until now?

"Octus did," Ilana said. "It took him about three days."

"It was blue at first," Lance cut in. "Then Ilana said we should change the color."

Ilana rolled her eyes. "I didn't want it to clash and stand out. Our communicators need to blend in with our appearance as earthlings."

Communicators. Yes, the Lunises had always referred to them as communicators rather than watches. Solomon should start thinking of them that way as well.

But interesting to know that the robot could, theoretically, make more of these. Possibly even more armors.

"And am I to return this should our…arrangement not work out?" he asked.

"Well if you plan to betray us, then definitely," Lance growled.

"Lance!" The teen just rolled his eyes. "No, Solomon. Should we decide that your stay isn't what's best for us, then you will still keep that communicator. Even if this doesn't work out, you should have the ability to contact us." She reached over and tapped it. "There is a tracker in this, but we will turn it off if you want us to. We also won't tap into any of your outside calls at any point. This is a gift, and it's fully yours."

It was a sign of trust. The relationship between G3 and the Lunises was a strange one, circling around several lies of omission. G3 trusted the aliens to protect the earth, live amongst the populace, hide their secrets. In return, the Lunises were allowing Solomon to dwell this close to them…and now, they were giving him this.

He watched the way the light reflected off the communicator's smooth surface. He was certain that the Lunises could monitor his calls and location without his knowledge. It was, after all, their technology. But Solomon trusted that if they said they wouldn't, then they wouldn't.

"Come on," Ilana gestured for him to follow. "Let's go into the living room, and I'll show you how it works."

For the next hour or so, Ilana explained to him the little nobs and dials, how to interpret the twisting symbols. Once he understood it, it was fairly straightforward. With its capabilities, Solomon could easily use it for all the functions of his own wrist G3 receiver…he'd have to consider that carefully, though.

"And we can teach you more about the shield later," Ilana finished. "Obviously we have to go somewhere pretty private to let you practice it." She glanced at the windows around the home. "But it can wait."

Solomon was eager to learn everything he could about this device they'd given him, but he understood her point.

For the evening, the Lunises were rather tired of board games, so they gathered in the living room to do their own activities. Ilana offered for him to try any one of their books, and Solomon eagerly observed their shelf, curious as to what sort of earth novels might attract alien attention. But he was somewhat disappointed to see that most of their collection was academically required literature. To Kill a Mocking Bird, The Giver, and several Shakespeare plays, among other things. Solomon still wanted to be part of their downtime, though, so he picked out a play, sat on the couch, and read for the evening.

Thus they all enjoyed a comfortable, peaceful silence. Solomon considered splitting off to make his first report or something else useful, but actually rather enjoyed the quiet. He didn't usually spend time without some form of important activity, but he supposed he would have to get used to this in civilian life.

An hour or two later, Ilana left to take a shower, and thus they each began to take turns to prepare for the night. Ilana mentioned doing something tomorrow, perhaps visiting one of Ms. Jackson's suggested locations, before she bid them good night and turned in.

Solomon took a hint and also retired to his own room. He set the watch, still resting in the box it had been given to him in, on the bedside table, and began to unpack his clothes and other items. He checked over the room for some kind of bug, not because he didn't trust the Lunises, but out of the security practices drilled into him. He spent an hour typing up his report, considering what to insert and what to leave out. It would, at first, only be available to his superior and the three new commanders, but eventually released to all agents. So he had to consider it carefully. For now, he kept it vague, and debated back and forth on mentioning the communicator. In the end, he decided not to. He was still processing it himself, and would make a decision tomorrow. Once he sent the message off, he lay back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling.

He'd made it through the first day. Such mundane activities, but his mind whirled to sort them all out, to add bits and pieces to the puzzle of the Lunises. He tried to imagine all the directions this could go, all that could happen. He turned to his bedside table, the watch resting there innocently. He picked it up and inspected it again. He still couldn't believe they had given this to him. But what to do with it? Wear it right beside his G3 communicator? Or…let it replace his current device?

He couldn't decide now. His mind was too overloaded with what this watch represented. So he put it back down, turned off his lamp, and went to bed.