ead him by the hand. «Mel Gibson, Maria.» «Oh, be quiet.» Yes, things are getting back to normal, indeed, Liz thought as the side door finally shut, enclosing the seven of them in a cocoon of weary but companionable silence. She was looking forward to writing in her journal again, day by day, with no clue as to what might lie ahead. 19. Cedars-Sinai Hospital, Los Angeles From the clock on the wall, he knew what lay ahead. It was the same every day. «Please stand away from the door, Mr. Margolin," the voice would say. And after he had backed into the strangely yielding corner, the door would open. Someone dressed all in white white coat, white pants, white shoes, white goddamned teeth would enter and set down a soft white cardboard tray topped with a soft white paper plate filled with bland white food. Even the walls, floors, and ceilings were white. And soft. The people in the coats had told him that this was for his own protection. The softness, not so much the whiteness (truthfully, he wasn't at all certain what purpose the unrelenting whiteness served, if any). The softness suffused everything so that the room's walls and corners and edges couldn't hurt him. But he wasn't worried that any such right-angled thing might hurt him. He was far more concerned about the far more complex shapes that visited him after the lights went out. When the remorseless white receded and gave way to a comforting, stygian black. And in the crepuscular passage between the two, he could actually see them the small gray people with their long fingers and their bulbous heads and their gigantic, softball-size, oil-slick eyes, twin black holes from which nothing, not even light, could escape. Those eyes could suck the soul right out the top of your head if you let them. Margolin had a sheet of foil that he'd stolen from one of his early meal trays and kept hidden so that he could crumple it protectively about his skull during the night. Tonight, in the darkness, he smiled to himself as he adjusted his makeshift cap. As long as his silver shield was in place, the gray people didn't frighten him in the least. And during the interminable whiteness of the day, when he was forced to hide the foil cap so that the whitecoats wouldn't be tempted to take it away the way they had relieved him of his belt, pencils, and shoelaces the gray men almost never approached him. It was during the long, white daytime hours that he could reassure himself that the gray men hadn't won. That they hadn't beaten him, or broken him. That they never could beat him, or break him, or force him to bend. No matter what anyone said, he knew that the gray invaders hadn't bent his mind, though it certainly wasn't for lack of trying. Oh, how they'd tried. But he knew with bedrock certainty that they had never succeeded at least, not exactly. The men and women who came to see him each day, those who fed him and sponge-bathed him, even said as much. Mostly. Snapped was the word one of them had used, rather than bent. He hadn't much appreciated the insipidly smiling, white-clad man who had used that ugly word. So Margolin had taken one of the hard plastic cafeteria trays they now no longer permitted him to use, and had used its blunt edge to beat that man to within a bloody inch of his life. After that, nobody else ever tried to say that he'd snapped. At least, not to his face. Psychotic break following electroneural trauma, was a phrase he heard often as well. But it was too long and clinical to rouse his visceral anger the way the hated word snapped could. These last few days or maybe weeks… years? the whitecoats had taken to trying to assure him that the gray people weren't even actually here. But Margolin knew better. He knew that the small gray people were here. And not just here. They were everywhere. Sometimes, when they stalked him in the darkness, he wished they'd get it over with and simply kill him. After all, he knew they wanted to. And they could have done it, he often thought. Why didn't they? He knew that he certainly wouldn't have hesitated to wipe them out. So why didn't they kill him! What was holding them back? They were everywhere, after all. Whenever he mentioned any of these ruminations aloud, the whitecoats only smiled their most indulgent white smiles. The whitecoats thought they were so smart. But they never found Margolin's foil cap. 20. Roswell, New Mexico Ms she looked at Max, who was now truly and lawfully her husband, Liz couldn't recall having experienced a happier moment than now. He looked so handsome in his dark tuxedo, his hair finally cut short enough to hide his ever-present cowlick. Sitting beside her in the rear of the limousine, he turned toward her, caught her eye, and smiled. It was no longer the tentative, hesitant, scared smile she had first seen from him back in 1999 and earlier. His smile now was wide, confident, and full of love. He leaned toward her and they kissed. As their lips touched, Liz saw things as she had when she'd kissed Max before she had gained and lost her own powers: Stars and galaxies whirled in her mind, flashes of the journey Max and his «family» had made from Antar so many years ago. She saw herself in kindergarten, in the cupcake dress her mother had sewn for her. She saw flashes of them all in the desert, holding hands, feeling powerful. She saw herself as Max saw her: a brilliant emerald aura cascading around her, with her eyes shining like diamonds in sunlight. And then she saw herself, older, as she fussed over a little girl who sat on a stairway, her knee scraped and bleeding. A slightly older boy came over to them and passed his palm over the wound, healing it with a slight glow. Liz hugged the two children and kissed each of them on the forehead. Max pulled back and looked into Liz's eyes. «Did you see them?» he asked, his own eyes moist. «Yes," she said, feeling tears of happiness rising. «Alex and Maddie. Our children.» The opaque partition in the front of the limousine slid down, and the driver called back to them. «We've arrived, Mr. and Mrs. Evans.» Max dabbed at Liz's cheek to wipe away the tears. «Are you ready for this?» She smiled unsteadily. «I've faced evil aliens, evil congresswomen, evil government agents, and everything else that's been thrown at me since high school began. I think I can face this.» The door opened, and bright sunshine streamed in at them. Liz gathered the satin hem of her wedding dress and stepped out onto the street. Max joined her a moment later. In front of them, the small crowd erupted with cheers and whistles and applause. The front of the Crashdown Cafe had been transformed with silver and white streamers and balloons, and Sheriff Hanson had even granted the Parkers a permit to cordon off the street for one block for the wedding reception. Liz scanned the crowd and saw everyone there, still dressed in their finest from the wedding ceremony. Maria and Michael were arm in arm, as were Jesse and Isabel. Liz's father was beaming, and her mother was crying. Max's parents were nearby, similarly affected. Jim Valenti stood with Amy DeLuca, and they were discreetly holding hands. Kyle stood near Ava, who had changed her hair to a reddish color, and had lengthened it; now she looked even less like Tess than she had before. Several men with cameras busied themselves taking pictures, and Kal Langley presided over the small film crew he had hired to film the wedding and its aftermath. Suzanne Duff was also present with her life-partner, a feisty woman named Alycyn, and Brody and his daughter, Sydney, were in the company of Laurie Dupree. River Dog and his wife were there as well, as was Eddie, and the lawyer, Shelby Tremaine. Even Sean DeLuca had turned up, though he was keeping more in the background. Mr. Whitman stood in the back of the crowd near Sean, and Liz thought she saw someone else with them for a moment. But as she blinked, the young man who looked like her late friend Alex Whitman vanished from sight. Wishful thinking, Liz thought. Suddenly, Maria let out a sound that was a cross between a screech and a squeal, and rushed forward to hug Liz. Max began to laugh, and Liz did too. Jim Valenti left Amy in the company of Duff's partner, and pulled the FBI agent aside. «Glad you were able to make it, Suzanne," he said. «I know it means a lot to Liz.» Duff grinned. «Well, I feel like I really don't quite belong since I've only known her such a short time, but I was glad that she invited us.» She surveyed the crowd quickly. «It's funny that we're the only fierce black sisters here though," she said smiling. «Aw, I don't think it's tokenism," Valenti said. «But I do know that Liz appreciated everything you did for us. You put a lot on the line.» He paused for a moment, then asked, «How have things shaken down for you at the Bureau?» «No problems I couldn't handle," Duff said. «Since no one in the Special Unit quite knows what happened anymore, they can't implicate me in anything. As far as my superiors know, I had an emergency personal situation arise and I went off to take care of it. It helps to have friends in the Bureau as well.» She made air quotes with her fingers. «Langley got me in touch with a few 'special' agents.» Valenti nodded. He knew exactly what she meant. It had been a surprise to find out how many aliens actually did live amongst mankind, and where they had been «placed," even though he had spent so much of his life looking for proof that had been all around him. «So, what's the word on the Special Unit?» he asked Duff. «The Special Unit is being erased very quickly," Duff said. «The few files that weren't destroyed right after Langley's brain bomb went off are being classified or buried, and the agents associated with them are being questioned and debriefed as we speak. In a year or two, the stuff we gave Brody might be the only proof that the Unit even existed.» Valenti nodded. The news didn't come as a surprise to him, but it also didn't make him particularly happy. «So it's government cover-up time again?» «Such is the way of things in my line of work," Duff said, a hint of resignation in her voice. «I've got mixed feelings about it," Valenti said. «The purpose of the group needs to be erased, but it feels wrong covering up all the consequences of its existence. Just sweeping the Special Unit under the rug is sort of like forgetting about the Holocaust.» «Hey, you're preaching to the choir," Duff said, holding up a hand and grinning. «Member of two minority groups here, remember? There's been a lot of oppression of both African-Americans and gay people over the years that will never make the history books.» She pointed over toward Liz and the others. «But it's them we're protecting, Jim. Not the government agents who tried to destroy their lives.» Valenti liked Duff's no-nonsense view of things. He was about to agree with her, when Kal Langley ambled over, eating what appeared to be a jelly doughnut smothered in Tabasco sauce. «Speaking of protecting," Jim said, gesturing toward the producer. He was gratified to see that Langley had finally decided to take up his responsibilities in looking out for the Royal Four. He knew that Langley had initially aided them as a result of Max's commands; now he suspected that the trials of fighting the Special Unit had revived Langley's sense of duty toward his onetime charges. «What are you two plotting over here?» Langley asked with a smirk. «Nothing less than the deception of the government in exchange for a trauma-free future for these kids," Duff said. «Deception. I like that," Langley said. «I've been known to dabble in that myself from time to time.» «Speaking of which," Duff said. «I imagine that the word about our abortive 'alien expose' has reached some of your human media contacts. They must have been curious when the story didn't go anywhere. What did you tell them?» Langley pointed around the crowd toward some of the members of his photo and video crew. «Well, a few of them were already 'in the loop' and knew the score. Those who weren't… well, I am a big-shot Hollywood producer. It just so happens that I was also filming a strange combination between a science-fiction pilot and an improv reality show.» He raised an eyebrow, and added, «The real-time special effects were pretty intense, but I think we're gonna scrap the footage anyhow. Wasn't quite what I wanted.» Valenti laughed. «Guess my craggy mug isn't exactly close-up material.» «Au contraire, Deputy," Langley said. «I think your craggy features are quite handsome. And you know, I might have a role for you in this upcoming show I'm thinking of doing.» He held his hands out to either side with thumbs up, as if framing the vista in front of him. «I'm thinking of pitching a series about these alien kids who are stranded on Earth. They look normal, but because they're part alien, they feel different from all the other kids. It's kind of an alienation thing, so all the kids who feel different can identify. And there's this sheriff who at first is trying to chase them, and then becomes the protector that they should have had from the beginning. I figure either the WB or UPN would be a lock for the series. Whattaya think?» Valenti cocked an eyebrow. «So you'd want me for the part of the sheriff?» Langley patted him on the shoulder. «I don't even know if you can act, Deputy Valenti. I was more thinking of you as a technical advisor. Now I think Michael Guerin, on the other hand, has a real future as an actor. My people are already talking to his people, as they say.» Duff and Valenti laughed heartily, and moments later, Langley joined in. Maria brought a piece of wedding cake over to Sydney and Brody, then sat down in one of the plastic lawn chairs that had been set up on the sidewalk. It felt funny to be serving someone food in front of the Crashdown, rather than inside. And it seemed that an eternity had passed since she had spent her days there, waitressing in that awful limegreen dress with the silver alien apron and the bobblingalien-antennae headband. «Here you go, Sydney," Maria said, handing the girl the cake. «I got you a piece with the biggest pink rose I could find.» «Thank you, Auntie Maria," the little girl said, beaming, then sat down in the chair to consume the sweets. «Yes, thanks," Brody said, accepting his piece of cake from Maria. «I was getting a mite peckish myself. You wouldn't want to get me a Blue Moon Burger and some Orbit Rings, too, would you?» «Don't push it, Brody," Maria said with an evil grin. «Your charming British accent can charm a girl only so far.» Brody smiled at her and took a bite of cake, then surveyed the crowd. Maria watched his gaze, and saw the UFO Center was behind where Max and Liz and some of their friends were standing. «So, how are you feeling?» she asked, lowering her voice. «You know, about knowing the truth now?» Brody screwed his mouth around to one side, then the other, and finally shrugged. «It's funny. It's been inside me for so long, the knowledge that all this alien business is real, that the things I've pursued and been afraid of and dreamed about are all real. And now that I know it, I'm not scared of it anymore.» He paused for a moment, then added, «And I'm not even sure I want to pursue it any longer.» «What do you mean?» Maria asked. «Well, now that Max has blocked me off from being 'abducted' by Larek ever again, I can go back to wondering and exploring. The mysteries of the universe offer far more possibilities than the established truths. But even closer to home than that, the mysteries of this world offer many possibilities as well. And I think I want to go explore them.» Maria smiled, gesturing with her fork over toward Laurie Dupree. «With Laurie?» Brody seemed only a little surprised at the question. «Is it that obvious?» Maria shook her head. «Naw. But when you're one of the few people who's been dealing with this mess as much as I have, you learn to pick up on these things. The Czechoslovakians have changed all our lives," she said, using the pet code-name that she and Liz and Alex had always used for discreet reference to their half-alien friends. «It makes sense that you'd go for a smart woman who's not going to think you're crazy. And since I'm not available, you'll just have to go with Laurie.» «Auntie Maria, look at this!» Sydney was balancing the rose made of frosting on her fork, eyeing it as if trying to determine whether the whole thing would fit into her mouth. Brody reached over and squeezed Maria's hand. «Thank you," he said simply. Liz bent forward slightly and tensed her arm. She hadn't gotten to do this when they'd been «married» before, since the ceremony had been done so quickly, and because they'd had to fudge a few of the legal d