Part 20: Forward
May 2009 – The Compound

1 : Jake

"I haven't had any flash in more than six months now," Max quietly said while they walked through the compound's grounds. Max had seldom come to this place in the last year, and Jake had rarely left the compound. Liz was wrapping up the finish touches to her research, so here they were, talking.

It was always a small miracle for Jake to find himself openly talking with Max. Granted, he was the only one of the three half-aliens who confided in him, but one was all Jake thought he could handle, anyway.

"And you are relieved," Jake said after a moment went by. These flashes had been a love-hate affair for Max. They had become an unwanted reminder of his past, he'd told Jake about a year ago, but sometimes he'd gotten a flash that got Max thinking in unexpected ways. Keep him following Jake's initial advice that there was much to learn from Zan's life.

"I'm not sure how to feel about it, actually. I mean, I'm relieved that I won't have to keep hiding them from Liz," Max said, his eyes wandering to the lake. This was the part Max hated the most: the lying. The other main issue he had with these flashes was that he didn't have control over them. And for Max, not being in control was a death sentence.

"That's understandable. You'll still have to tell her about this sometime soon, or it'll eat you alive. Liz probably already knows something is going on. She knows you almost as well as you know yourself." Jake pointed out, making Max smiled.

"I know. I'm not sure how or when, but I know it'll be soon. I just want to make sure it's over for real."

"And if it's not? What other things are you hoping for? What other dangers could there be?"

"I thought—I thought that at some point, they would take over my life. That I would have a crystal-clear sense that I was Zan, not Max. That Max was a fantasy...a made-believe life that I had for a while. You know, like a vacation from being Zan."

"You've told me you feared that your life, Max's life as you put it, would be meaningless. Do you think if you regained Zan's sense of life, this life would seem meaningless to him?"

Max thought about it, the sounds of spring the background music for their talk. Finally, he shook his head twice. "He would be as conflicted as I am now, I think. But lately—I mean, if it hasn't happened, with all I already know, I don't think it will at all. Or it wouldn't really be like I thought in the beginning. As I see it now—" Max paused, turning in the direction of the compound, probably sensing something from Liz.

It never ceased to intrigue Jake, really, the way their bonds worked. All three of them had them with their significant others, and Liz, Maria, and Jesse seemed to think it was a sign of true love. Romance aside, Jake's mind was far more curious on how these bonds occurred biologically speaking, and what evolutionary purposes they could have. Or were they just a side effect of their powers, of their need to feel connected, normal?

"As I see it now," Max continued, "is as if Zan was a character in this incredibly descriptive book. I know him. I can tell you what exactly he thought about everything. But I'm not him. I don't care for the same things he does—did," he hastily corrected, sighing in frustration a moment later. "Did." He repeated, almost to ascertain that to himself more than to Jake. "He feels like a person that has so many things in common with me, but when I look in the mirror, I always see me. And that me doesn't really include Zan."

Jake nodded, their leisurely path going round and round. "So, you're ready to move on," Jake said with a small smile. Max had lived with this fear for years now, and that couldn't be healthy.

Max turned to look at Jake, thoughtful. "I'm not sure if that's what this is. I think I'm ready to accept that it used to be me, but that I'll never be that person again. That I feel no responsibility towards his life."

"Well, if my advice is of any use," Jake said with a hand on his shoulder, "I think that's the best thing you can do."

2 : Liz
September 2009 – Boston

For a long moment, Liz Parker stared at Harvard's iron entrance and imagined the perfect life her younger self had envisioned: a full scholarship, four years of hard study with like-minded people, and graduating on a sunny morning. Most certainly, hanging her Master's of Science diploma at her office as the head of the molecular biology department.

Maybe some guy named Bratt would have stolen her heart along the way. Maybe children? She could sure get used to living in a city like Boston.

"The road not taken, huh?" Maria said as she came back with two cups of coffee.

"It's odd, you know?" Liz said as they both contemplated the university of her dreams for one last minute. "I know for a fact I eloped and married in Vegas in another timeline. And even if I think my life would be better without Max in it, it would only mean that I'd have bled to death on the floor when I was sixteen. It's like I was never meant to be here."

"You do realize that the people coming here are going to be studying your research for decades, right?"

Liz blushed. "Well, yeah, most likely…" she said, trying not to smile too broadly at the thought.

"Are you sure you're okay with all your work not having your name on it?" Maria asked as they started to walk toward their hotel. Boston was a beautiful city, and they hadn't seen each other for months.

"It's the price I pay, I guess," Liz said, shrugging. "Elizabeth Parker cannot give interviews or lectures or have her work peer-reviewed."

"But your boss can," Maria pointed out.

"Alan doesn't like it, either. He always credits his team, and even offered to clarify the whole thing once my deal with Dave is over."

"Right."

"Exactly. Plus, once we disappear, I won't be near a lab with the kind of technology Dave has. I have to hurry with as much as I can discover before this window closes. So, I'm never going to publish under my own name, but the research on Max's cells is solid. This has the potential to help millions of people, Maria. That's what matters. Elizabeth Parker, M.S. is part of that life that isn't mine," she said, shrugging again. She'd made her peace with that a long time ago.

"I sometimes wonder where I'd be if I had sold my soul to Dominique and the music industry."

"You would have taken the world by storm."

"Yeah, for sure!" Maria said, grinning. "I wouldn't be here, though," she said in a more subdued tone. "I would have been in New York or LA, or somewhere not Roswell, and would have never known what happened to you and Michael after graduation. It would have haunted me for life."

"We would have reached out."

"Yeah, without the details."

Liz nodded, conceding the point.

"Do you think they think about their past lives?" Maria asked, frowning.

"Yeah. Maybe even more than that," Liz said, taking a sip.

"Oh, thank God! I'm not crazy, then."

"What? Why? What does Michael do?"

"What does Max do?" Maria fired back, not wanting to be the first to talk about something that sounded weird, even if they had both married aliens.

"Um…it's complicated," Liz said.

"It wouldn't be Czechoslovakians if it wasn't complicated."

"He—he sorts of does these things…like quirks?" she started, raising one eyebrow in search of a better explanation. "Like, um, like he walks straighter when he's entering a room full of people. Like he owns the place. Which is like the opposite of Max, you know? The hiding-in-plain-sight-I-hate-crowds Max. He never does it when it's you guys or just us, so it's hard to spot. I mean, assuming I'm not imagining it at all."

"He gets quiet," Maria said. "I mean, when Michael gets into a room full of people, he gets quiet. And we would walk through a buffet and by the time we sit down, he can tell you what half the people in the restaurant are doing, and who's sitting with whom. I thought it was just Ray's training, but there's something just beneath the surface that is…odd."

"And then he smiles or says something that's pure Max and I just dismiss it."

Maria nodded, sipping her coffee as they waited for a red light. "You think that's who they used to be, back on Antar?"

"I think—I think it's in their genes, you know? I mean, Antarians' expected them to remember who they were, so they had to be reasonably confident that they could encode memories in their genes. Even if they don't consciously recall who they were, those traits are bound to get expressed somehow."

"So you're saying Max gets Zan's confidence and Michael gets Rath's paranoia the same way you got brown eyes?"

"Something like that, yeah. I don't think they're aware of it—or maybe I just don't want to deal with the whole destiny thing, you know? I want to put Antar back in the past, where it belongs."

"Don't ask, don't tell," Maria said approvingly. "I don't know what I would do with a general from another planet. God, the whole thing would be so cliché."

"Saved by the alien king," Liz said, smiling. "You know, that's a road not taken I wouldn't mind revisiting."

"Well, Queen Elizabeth Parker has a nicer ring to it than Elizabeth Parker, M.S."

They both laughed. As long as her life included Max Evans in one form or another, she could deal with a few awkward moments where her husband seemed to be someone else. Things had to be strange from time to time, right? She had married an alien, after all.

An alien king who'd saved her life.

3 : Dave
October 2009 - Japan

"I don't think he's ready," Dave said, looking through the window to the unfamiliar Tokyo skyline. He'd seldom been here in the last few years, and it had certainly grown in unexpected ways.

"He's been six years under your roof, literally," Langley's voice came loud and clear on the phone even though they had an ocean in between.

"And he's learned a lot on matters he would have never even thought of. They all have. But he's not going to sit in a throne and rule an entire world. It just won't happen next week."

Silence. They both had known that going into this thing, there were no guarantees. That Max could very well remain Max for the rest of his life, and that no matter how many tantrums Van would throw, it wouldn't change the fact that their plan A had failed. Memories were a tricky thing, and it had been a surprise to discover that even such an advanced civilization had had so much trouble with "cloning" them. That Van believed as everybody else that memories were preserved intact for an entire life, was even more demoralizing.

"Even if Max were to remember everything right this moment, he has spent an entire lifetime here. It won't be what they want. He won't play Zan just because they want him to."

"He'll have to if he expects to survive," Langley quietly said on the other side of the world. "Khivar wants him dead now more than ever. He's become such a great symbol that even martyrdom seems preferable to the very real fact that Zan can and will take his throne back. Van might accept that his long-lost brother is very much lost, but he's not stupid. He'll use Zan's name to the Rebellion advantage, whether Max wants it or not."

Dave saw the tiny dots of people walking down the street, the cars moving in all directions. Did Antar look like this? With so many people unsuspecting that the fates of their lives were in a handful of alien hands?

"You know that, and I know that. But Max is no warrior. He can be a good leader, despite his constant self-doubt. He's already lost things dear to him as simple, old Max that he won't stand still looking at how he loses even more. But to deal with an entire planet coming out of civil war seems to ask too much."

"Are you listening to yourself, Dave?" Langley cautiously asked. "It's not your decision to see if Max is fit to rule. But it certainly is part of your deal to make sure his Majesty is going to be ready for the trial. One way or another, Van will meet him, and it's in everyone's best interest that Van approves. Even if Max doesn't cut it as Zan, Van cannot be disappointed."

Dave internally sighed. He'd worked hard on getting the six of them to know the world. To travel. To love this planet. He knew just as Langley had said that one day Van would sit down with Max and would pass judgment on Earth. If Max said the wrong thing—if he didn't want to go to Antar—Van could very well see it as if this planet had killed the only king he wanted. Politics were a very slippery slope when it came to negotiations. And Van was as much motivated by politics as he was to his sense of family and duty.

"You know Van better than I do. If Max doesn't pass, what would he do?"

"I know him better, but not by much," the shifter replied. "The last Unit Agent died last week, at least that's what Luke reported to me. They are leaving Earth for now, leaving only their bodyguards behind."

Dave swallowed that hard. Twenty-three people had died as the fallout of Max's capture back in May of 2000. All had been in the list Ray had given him six years ago. And all of them would have killed Max at first sight. That the twenty-three agents were already replaced was clear on Dave's mind, but at least, if they were smart and stayed out of Max's and Van's way, they would live.

"But if Max is a disappointment," Langley continued, "Van might do something rash, starting with my head and yours. Beyond that, I don't think he would bother. Earth is too far away for a planet like Antar with such a huge internal conflict to set their eyes on. And if the Earth is not a threat, then this planet is safe."

So, in the end, all this might have been for nothing but a convoluted way to get myself killed... Dave thought, placing a hand on the cold glass.

"Of course, if Max remembers—" Kal started.

"He doesn't," Dave quickly cut that line of thought. He'd been watching them, and none of them ever said anything Antar related. Jake had said nothing about it, and if anyone had known, that would have been Jake.

"But if he would—let's say, half remember, then Van would do everything in his power to bring the rightful king back. And that might be something as easy as kidnapping him, to something as harsh as to wipe out everything Max holds dear here to show Zan what's really important."

"Charming," Dave muttered.

"You don't know how Antar is, or how Antarians are, Dave," Langley warned him. "But our worst-case scenario might be the most unlikely as well. That Max actually fully remembers Zan and acts accordingly."

Dave frowned. "That doesn't make sense. I thought Zan had been a descent ruler until his death. That's why they want him back."

"He was, stubborn and idealistic, but he was giving it his best. No, the problem here is that Zan died over seventy years ago. Do you think the Zan in Van's head is the real Zan? You think the Rebellion's previous leaders didn't take it upon themselves to make Zan everything everyone wants him to be?"

"But Zan would know how to play this game," Dave argued back, "He is the king, after all."

"Zan was a king of peace times. He wouldn't know what to do with a Rebellion in his hands, people dying in his name, and sending even more people to their deaths. Zan was a pacifist to a T."

"Well, it doesn't really matter what you or I think, does it?" Dave said after a minute passed by. "Our part of the deal was to keep Max alive until the Rebellion could safely get him back. Whatever Max does, we'll have to keep pushing him forward. He might not care about Antar, but he sure cares about Earth."

"So says you," Langley pointed out, then sighed. "Max will make the right choice, no matter what you or I have been trying to do. He knows this day will come, or at least is smart enough to know there's a good chance it might happen. We just bought him a few years of freedom before he has to go back to reality."

With that, Kal hung up. Max was a good kid, a smart one. He would do whatever he had to do to ensure the safety of his family, even if it meant sacrificing himself or going to another planet. That much Dave knew and had planned for. Max just didn't have any other choice. Not with Van. Not with a Rebellion fighting in his name.

I'm sorry, he whispered. There had never been a choice, Dave knew, but it didn't mean he had to like it. It had never meant that Max had to like it, either.