Maria ran into the chamber that housed the Granolith, stumbling in her haste to reach it. Her heart was pounding from the exertion of climbing the side of the rocky incline and her emotions were swirling darkly within her, building into a fury that couldn't be contained.
Her breathing was rapid as she inhaled and exhaled loudly through her nose. She paced around the device, her eyes moving over it as she considered the best plan of attack. Her movements were stilted, edgy, and she wanted nothing more than to destroy the thing, but it was her only hope of getting Michael back.
"You think you're so damned powerful, so important, so worthy of being worshipped or revered, or whatever it is that your civilization uses you for, that you can just sit here and refuse to save someone who is essential to the survival of your own people!" she ranted. "You can travel through time, you can undo a goddamned alien invasion, and you've apparently had way too much time to sit here on your… your… your ass if you've got one, and let yourself begin to believe you're a hell of a lot more important than you are! If you're so important why are you here on earth and not on Antar, being worshipped by your public? You have the power to choose whether or not someone lives or dies and you do nothing, you worthless piece of shit!" She screamed in frustration and picked up a baseball-sized rock, preparing to throw it at the device when it began to glow.
"Yet you seek my assistance," the mechanical voice rumbled.
Maria shook her head, disbelief warring with a burning hatred when she heard the cold, detached voice once more. She was certain she had detected arrogance in its statement and that only fueled the flames of the fire that was raging inside of her. "You can alter time, prevent that accident from happening."
"It is within my abilities."
"I know it's within your abilities, you useless sonofabitch! You let Max travel back in time to change it. Is that because he's the king so it automatically means he's worthy of breaking the sacred rules?" She glanced down at the rock in her hand and hurled it at the Granolith, unsurprised when it merely bounced off of what she was sure was a force field of some sort. "You won't protect him but you'll protect yourself." Her voice dripped with disdain. "I'm waiting for an answer to my question."
"The choice to alter time to save a single being is not within my powers, it is strictly prohibited by the creators. Modifications were made at the time - "
"I don't give a damn about modifications!" she yelled, unable to reconcile how an entity such as this could possess such power and do nothing with it. "Do you know where your king is? He's on the verge of losing his sanity right at this very moment because his brother, his best friend, and his second in command is lying dead under six feet of sand!" She beat her fists against the device, uncaring that it wasn't registering the fact that it was being hit over and over.
She didn't notice the prickling sensation at first, the feeling that something was probing deep within her subconscious, but when it became more insistent she jerked back away from the Granolith. "What're you doing?"
"Your emotions are connected to the hybrid."
"What have I been saying since I got here?" she asked, frustrated by its lack of understanding.
"This hybrid is necessary to your existence?"
Relief flooded her system when it posed the question in its controlled, emotionless tone. "Yes!"
"You would go anywhere to be with him?" It chose its next words carefully. "There could be changes, possibly differences - "
"I don't care! Just get me back to Michael; I don't care about anything else!" Maria's breath froze in her throat for several seconds, wondering what the Granolith had in mind.
She would almost swear, as she stood there looking at it, that it was… thinking, considering all aspects of some problem before making a decision. It had turned a dark shade of blue, but the glow surrounding it showed that it was active, that whatever being was inside was somehow working towards a solution for Michael.
She had managed to awaken its conscience, its responsibility towards the hybrids. Or, at the very least, she had made it consider the possibilities. She wasn't sure what it intended to do but something monumental was going to take place and she was ready, she could feel it in her bones. She would do anything to save Michael; she would travel to the ends of the world, the universe, to get him back and give him a new chance at the life that he so deserved.
A red light shot out of the Granolith, startling her. She raised her head to look at it, fascinated by the beautiful burgundy color that it was displaying. A strange sensation began to take her over, leaving her powerless; she could feel her own body escaping her control and she was physically drawn to the device until she finally collided with it. Expecting to be hurt, she closed her eyes, unaware that she was being drawn through the Granoliths' shield, unharmed. She opened her eyes and her gaze darted around, realizing that she was inside the device.
Fear seized her and the feeling of truly being alone suddenly overcame her. She had a last thought for her mother, whom she regretted leaving the way she had, doing to her mother what her father had done to them so long ago. She thought about Liz and she hoped that she and Max were going to be truly happy. Kyle, Isabel, Alex, the sheriff, Laurie, Jeff Parker, Grandma Claudia, Brody, and Sydney… all people she had known and loved, and whose faces were swirling in her mind.
She tried desperately to focus on Michael, to tell herself that she was going back to him, when everything suddenly began to accelerate. Feeling dizzy and afraid she quickly recalled Max's tale of the Granolith taking Tess inside and sending her to Antar. It had done this before and it was going to do it again, for Michael. Relief settled over her as her eyes closed, her breathing began to slow down, and a welcoming black veil fell over her, ready for the Granolith to take her to whatever time and place it had chosen.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Kyle's gaze shot up to the entrance that led to the Granolith when he felt a rumbling beneath his feet.
"Oh, my God," Liz whispered, leaning away from Max so she could look towards the cave. A bright flash of light caused her to turn away and close her eyes to protect herself. Fear shot through her and she wondered what the Granolith had done as she rushed inside to get to Maria and remove her from the cave. Desperately, she shoved displaced rocks out of her path, clawing her way into the pod chamber, ignoring Kyle who was yelling at her to come back. She couldn't listen to him; she wasn't going to let another friend die or get hurt by an alien, whether that alien was alive or not. She reached the pods and crawled inside one of them, feeling Max's soothing presence for just a fleeting moment. She smiled slightly. She was inside Max's pod, no doubt about it. She continued on, her hands scraped and bruised, but her will to reach Maria strong enough to allow her to push past the pain.
She finally reached the inner chamber where the Granolith stood tall and her eyes scanned the small area, noting that there was no sign of Maria inside. She turned her eyes towards the device, almost afraid to ask it what had happened. She was trying to formulate a question when Kyle appeared behind her, followed by Max and Isabel. Liz's eyes immediately went to Max. He looked so devastated, so broken, and she couldn't stand to see him in so much pain. She went to him and took him into her arms.
"Max, whatever happened here, the Granolith is going to fix it. I don't know how, but Michael will be back."
His dark, pain-filled eyes turned towards her. She sounded so sure. Why wasn't she scared for Maria?She wasn't there any longer, that much was obvious, but they didn't know where she was… where the Granolith had sent her. He spoke then, his voice husky and unsure. "Liz, I know you think that, but if the Granolith had changed its mind, sent her back in time, don't you think the change should have been instantaneous for us? Shouldn't we be… somewhere else, with no recollection of…" Max stopped, unable to say the words. Michael's death was too fresh, too unbearable to possibly put into words.
Liz bit her bottom lip, worrying it with her teeth. She was thinking the same thing but she didn't want to worry Max or Isabel, who was looking at her with hope in her eyes. She wished she had all the answers, but she didn't. She turned towards the Granolith and asked the question they all wanted the answer to,
"Where is Maria?"
The Granolith glowed for a second before answering. "She is where she is meant to be."
"Where?" Liz questioned insistently. Her best friend was lost somewhere without her, without any of them, and she had to know what had happened. "Where? Or rather, when?"
The light in the cave seemed to get weaker and weaker until the alien device turned black. A soft, purring sound could be heard, as if the Granolith had fallen into a deep sleep and wasn't there any longer. Liz was on the verge of kicking it to get an answer to her questions when Kyle's voice reached her.
"We've gotta get outta here now," Kyle said as he reached out to grab Isabel's arm and pulled her to her feet. "There's no way that went unnoticed." He helped Liz get Max out of the cave and they all ran as fast as their legs could carry them.
Liz felt a twinge of guilt for leaving Maria behind but she was gone, somewhere out of reach. She sent a prayer to God above that wherever she was, Michael was with her.
Kyle motioned for her to get into the drivers' seat while he reached over to secure the seatbelt around Max. He was still unresponsive, his features ravaged by a devastation too great to comprehend. "Go back home," he instructed when Liz slid in behind the wheel and looked at him. "No phone calls. Matter of fact, give me your phone and I'll have Isabel dispose of yours and ours at the same time. Use the usual method to contact us in three days to let us know you're safe, and we'll do the same." He sighed as he patted Max's shoulder. "You guys be careful and stay off the interstate as much as possible."
Isabel watched them go before turning back to look at the path the Granolith had taken. "Good luck," she whispered.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Michael scanned the landscape as the wind whipped past him and he barely glanced at the large, colorful sign on the left side of the highway that proudly proclaimed the next town had the best food this side of the border. His stomach rumbled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten since lunchtime the day before and he sped up, cutting off another car to make the exit in time. He smirked at the sound of a horn, absently wondering if people really thought they were really making their displeasure known by honking their horns.
He drove through the town, eyes watching for a bar that would meet his requirements. He didn't want anything nice; he wanted something that catered to people who didn't ask questions, who weren't interested in talking. And, hey, if it just happened to have strippers that was just a bonus. The town was located relatively close to a military installation so he wanted a bar that catered to military types. He found the area that he was looking for after half an hour and he parked in front of the first bar and walked inside to check the place out.
The interior was dimly lit, the men gathered in groups around the pool tables or the catwalk where the strippers would soon be coming out to provide the entertainment. He settled at a table at one end of the bar and ordered a drink, debating which of the men would be most likely to ignore regulations and engage in a fight.
He was in the process of taking a drink from the bottle in his hand when a feeling of warmth and… what was that, excitement?Happiness?What the hell was going on? He looked around the bar, already knowing what he would find, and his irritation shifted up a notch when he verified that there wasn't a single woman in sight.
Excitement he could understand - if he had been in the presence of an attractive woman and sex was on the menu. Happiness, well, he wasn't sure he believed such a notion actually existed. He scanned the room once more, seeking a viable target, an opponent who could hold their own against him. He was barely conscious of the music getting louder, paying no attention to the women slinking around on the stage as he felt the aggression surging through his veins. First nightmares and now warm, fuzzy feelings; he didn't understand what was going on, but it was pissing him off.
He looked up when something soft slid against his neck and he turned his head to look at the stripper, already bare from the waist up, as she slid a silky scarf around his neck. He watched her as she moved around him, her body completely in sync with the music as she danced. He waited for the familiar feeling of arousal, anticipating it when she straddled him and started to grind her pelvis against him. He was ready for it… any second now…
He smirked in satisfaction when his body finally responded to the stimulation, but his expression quickly switched to impassive when her surprised gaze flew to his. She ground down harder against his erection and leaned in to whisper in his ear.
Michael's dark eyes skimmed over the sea of female flesh behind her, all in various stages of nudity and he frowned when he realized that there wasn't a single one there that he was interested in. His body was responding but not the way it normally did and it was pissing him off. What the fuck was up with that? he wondered, feeling anger pushing through the surface and he knew he had to do something, quick.
"Slow starter, hmm?" she growled throatily.
His eyes turned to ice in the space of a heartbeat. "Funny thing about the male body," he muttered coldly, "give it enough stimulation and it'll react predictably."
The woman's movements stilled and she frowned. "What?"
"Get lost, bitch; my dick doesn't go near anyone who's been ridden as much as you."
"Don't talk to the lady like that, man."
Michael looked up at the man who had spoken and felt adrenaline rush through his veins. This was what he had been looking for when he had chosen this particular bar; the man defending the lady's honor was big, military, and he would be able to hold his own in a fight. He shoved the woman off of him, ignoring her indignant shout as he stood and faced off against the man. He met the challenging gaze directed at him and his fists clenched at his sides in anticipation of the coming fight.
"You owe the lady an apology."
"Not gonna happen," Michael muttered as he swung hard. Satisfaction washed over him when his fist connected with the man's jaw, the sound of flesh and bone connecting giving him the release he had been waiting for.
People scattered to get out of the way when the man charged towards him, bending at the waist and ramming his shoulder into Michael's gut, lifting him up off of the floor. He brought his hands down sharply, the sides connecting with the Marine's neck. The man released him and he dropped back down to his feet.
The man quickly recovered and came after him again, this time with a quick uppercut that connected with Michael's jaw and he felt his head snap back from the force of the blow. He stumbled back several steps and hit the side of one of the pool tables, momentarily pausing to breathe. He wiped blood from the corner of his mouth and focused on getting his breathing back under control. He reached back and his right hand curled around the pool cue that had been abandoned by one of the players when the fight had started.
The Marine came after him again and he swung the pool cue into the man's ribs, rolling his shoulders back when the man grunted and backed off momentarily. It was only a matter of seconds before the big man advanced on him once more and Michael threw the pool cue on the floor before launching himself at the man.
He took a sharp hit to his ribs and he knew it was going to leave a bruise but he didn't care, he just wanted to do some damage. He got in several satisfying punches before someone hit him from behind and he automatically folded in on himself for a moment. Kidney shot, he thought, wincing. Great, now he was gonna be pissin' blood for the next couple of days. He straightened up, pushing the pain away, and whirled around to look at the man who had thrown the punch while his back was turned.
He looked at the young guy, maybe nineteen or twenty years old, probably a new recruit, and he saw red. He barreled into the younger man, shoving him back until the guys' back hit the edge of the bar. It took three well-placed punches before the guy slumped to the floor unconscious.
"Dumbass," he snorted as he turned back to the Marine and flexed his hands.
"I think you two have done enough damage for today," a new voice spoke up above the silence that had fallen over the crowd.
Michael glanced over his shoulder and frowned at the cops making their way through the sea of customers who had gathered to watch the fight. God, if this day got any worse he was gonna throw himself off of the tallest building he could find.
"We're gonna take you boys down to the jail," the first cop said. "Maybe a night in lockup will calm you down and make you think twice about getting into barroom brawls." He approached the two combatants without any concern, pulling out a pair of handcuffs and securing Michael's wrists behind his back while his partner did the same to the other guy.
"You're wastin' your time," Michael said. "I'll be out in an hour."
"Son, you'll be sittin' in a holdin' cell in an hour."
"I want my phone call."
"You'll get your call when we get to the station," the second cop spoke up as he herded the big Marine outside.
Michael shoved the cop back when he reached out to take his arm. "I can walk just fine on my own," he snarled.
He was demanding his phone call as soon as they walked through the front entrance and the cop finally removed the handcuff from his left wrist and attached the second cuff to a metal ring mounted to a desk. The man grabbed the phone from the other end of the desk and slammed it down on the scarred surface in front of Michael.
"Call who you wanna call, boy, but you're spendin' the night in a cell."
"Wanna bet?" Michael dragged the man's chair closer and took a seat, slouching down and staring at the man insolently as he punched a number in. He propped his feet up on the edge of the desk and leaned back, waiting for an answer. When the call was finally answered from the opposite end by a deep, gravelly voice he grinned; he had managed to drag the old man out of bed again. "Hey, Xavier, gotta problem," he said by way of greeting.
Xavier Coulson considered throwing the phone into the pool and ignoring the man on the other end. Even from thousands of miles away Michael Guerin was giving him a headache. "What've you gotten yourself into this time?"
He relayed his current situation to the man on the other end of the phone and waited for the explosion he knew was coming. "You called the emergency number for this?" the man shouted angrily. He had two beautiful, exotic, women in his bed and he had been forced to put a halt to their activities when the call had been patched through. This wasn't the first time he had been on the verge of fucking a beautiful woman and had to wait because of some problem that had come up, a problem that Guerin had most likely caused; it was like the bastard had some sort of radar that went off any time Xavier was about to indulge his wilder side. "You do know that if you weren't so goddamned good at your job I'd have you shot for all the trouble you cause me, right?" He sighed in resignation. "Put the arresting officer on the phone. And Michael? If you call me one more time for this kind of bullshit I will have you shot."
Michael handed the phone over to the cop and watched the man's face as Xavier explained a few things to him. The color slowly drained from his face and his eyes widened as he glanced at the man he had taken into custody.
Michael's expression was smug as he walked out of the police station, knowing there would be no record of the incident. He debated whether he wanted to eat or not and finally decided to wait until he reached Santa Fe. He pulled his keys out and tossed them back and forth from one hand to the other as he passed the bar and moved to his motorcycle.