l «uh-huh» and «yeah.» He wished he could hear the conversation's other side. «When did they leave? And you're sure they're going to Los Angeles? Okay, hold on.» She scrambled in her pocket for a pen, then jammed the phone between her cheek and shoulder as she quickly scribbled a set of numbers and names across the back of her left hand. «He promised you what? Uh-huh. Well, I'm sure the truth is going to be out soon enough. Look, Brody, I need to go, and I also need you to do a favor for me. When you talk to Valenti, I need you to give him this message. Tell him we're on our way to meet the second protector.» She paused. «I know it sounds weird. Just tell him that. He'll know who we're talking about, and how to reach us. We should be there by late tonight.» Michael turned to see Eddie exiting the bathroom. The Native American man approached him, then beckoned with his finger, apparently wanting to talk with him apart from Maria. «What do you need, Eddie?» Michael asked when he reached the other young man's side. «I hate to do this, but I wasn't thinking real clearly when I left Roswell," Eddie said, an apologetic look in his eyes. «I didn't grab too much money, and I've got to make it back there somehow. Is there any way you guys can help out with some gas money?» Michael smirked. «Sure. Give me all the money you've got. Bills and quarters.» Eddie looked confused, but handed him three onedollar bills, a five-dollar bill, and four quarters. «Wait here," Michael said. «And watch Maria. Tell her I went to the bathroom.» He made his way into the deserted bathroom and entered one of the stalls. He held the money in his hand and concentrated hard. A bright light shined out from his palm as he resequenced the elements of the bills, creating two twenty-dollar bills and one fifty. All of the chemical and physical elements of the bills were already in place; they merely had to be rearranged. Michael had learned the trick months ago, and it was one of the ways the group had kept themselves financially stable during their months on the run from the alien-hunters. Michael then gathered the coins in his fist and gave them a burst of power. With a grin, he remembered how a bit of residual alien energy had affected the dice at the casino when they had visited Vegas last year. He then turned and kicked the flush handle on the toilet, just in case anyone else had entered the bathroom and was wondering what he was doing in the stall. Outside, Maria was waiting with Eddie. Michael handed Eddie the new money and the quarters. «That should get you at least to Vegas, and a hotel. No need to drive through the night.» He grinned, and added, «And use the quarters in the slot machines with the biggest payout you can find. I have a feeling you'll be very lucky if you do.» «Thanks," Eddie said, smiling. The trio soon rejoined Max and Liz near the Microbus. Liz's tears had subsided, but her mood remained decidedly somber. Max kept his arm protectively around her shoulder. «So, what did Brody say?» Max asked. Eddie put up his hand. «Before you guys get into all this, I really ought to get going. At the risk of sounding like I'm running out on you, I think I've come as far as I should.» Smiling apologetically, he added, «There's only so much I'll do on the word of Chameleon.» Max held out his hand for Eddie to shake. «We understand, Eddie. This is our fight, and you've already done a lot for us. Thanks.» The rest of them thanked Eddie as well, and the young man clambered onto his motorcycle and roared off toward the gathering night. Afterward, Maria revealed everything Brody had told her, thereby confirming the information Eddie had relayed to them from Valenti. But Brody had also supplied additional news from Jesse in Boston; Isabel's husband was currently on his way to Los Angeles with a lawyer named Shelby Tremaine, aboard a private plane that Brody had paid for. «And Jesse's also carrying proof that a certain quartet has alien powers, documentation of the government's current harassment campaign, and some other stuff as well," Maria said. «So Jesse and Brody must be planning to 'out' you," Liz said. «I guess we're already 'out' to Brody," Michael said, feeling glum. «Maybe we should just take out full-page newspaper ads.» Liz shrugged. «Might not be the worst idea at this point, if Jesse and Brody think that going public is the only way to put a stop to what the government is doing.» «It's not like we haven't already considered doing that ourselves," Max said, nodding. «Sounds like we're on parallel tracks.» «I know how to reach Jesse and his friend once we get to L.A.," Maria said, displaying the hand onto which she'd transcribed the numbers and names. Michael considered all the years that he, Max, and Isabel had carefully concealed their alien natures from the world, including the adults who had taken them in and raised them. That ingrained caution wasn't easy to simply abandon. But what other choices did they have, other than running, or standing their ground to fight a final, hopeless battle? «I guess that's it, then," Michael said at length. «We've got Jesse and Brody's plan running while we continue on to Langley's estate to get his high-powered Antarian assistance. And we're also armed with more of our alien trinkets, as well as the knowledge that the Special Unit goons are finally really playing hardball with us.» «We already knew that," Max said, his eyes flashing anger. «We're just going to have to play harder.» They gathered the bag that Eddie had brought them, as well as their empty soft-drink cans, and began moving back toward the van. Liz held out her hands. «Wait a second. If Jesse and this other lawyer are on their way to California right now, who's going to meet Isabel and Kyle when they get there?» Michael looked around as everyone's faces went blank. Finally, he replied with the only answer that came to mind. «So they're left alone in Boston. At least they're not on their way to California. And Isabel won't have to face a Special Unit alien autopsy.» Michael noted that this answer seemed to satisfy everyone. Liz and Max ran to take a quick bathroom break, leaving Michael and Maria alone. Climbing into the van with her, Michael took out the alien «compass» and peered at it, trying to divine its workings. «What is it?» Maria asked, concern and curiosity both clearly audible in her voice. «I don't know. I just have a feeling this 'compass' thing that led Eddie to us might turn out to be a problem. What if more of these things are floating around out there?» «But if someone else out there had one of these Spideytracer doohickeys, wouldn't they have already used it to track us down?» Maria asked in return. Michael nodded, conceding that she was probably right. But inside, his growing sense of unease simply refused to abate. 8. Naperville, Illinois I sabel let loose a kick toward her attacker's midsection, but even as she connected, he grabbed her leg and yanked. Offbalance, she felt herself pitching toward the bed. The ruddy-complexioned man was on her in an instant, trying to pin her arms to the side with one hand. Isabel felt utterly vulnerable, but not defenseless. She brought her knee upward, connecting solidly between the attackers legs. He groaned and rolled to the side, the air escaping from his lungs in a great whoosh. Isabel heard a knocking on the door, and Kyle's voice. «Isabel! Are you all right?» The door's locked, Isabel had time to think as she tried to free herself and get over to the door. Far from incapacitated, the man grabbed at her, clutching the towel she had wound around her head, as well as some of her hair. Inches from reaching the lock, Isabel felt herself being yanked backward, off her feet once again. She crashed onto the floor, her head slamming hard enough to make her see stars. Woozy, she looked up to see the man twist something on the alien device he held in his hand. The gadget was pointed squarely at her, and she felt as if she were enveloped in glue, unable to move, barely able to breathe. «You're a feisty one, Vilandra. Kivar will no doubt be delighted to have you back," the man said, a triumphant grin spreading across his broad face. You may have stopped my body, but not my mind, Isabel thought. Concentrating hard, she pictured the lock on the train room door sliding open, then concentrated on a coffee cup she saw on the table. It shot through the air, knocking the device out of her attacker's hands. Still unable to move, Isabel saw Kyle rush into the room with a roar. He tackled the man, driving him back against the table. The top of it splintered, its metal support bent from the impact. The man wrestled Kyle off of him and threw several punches, connecting hard with Kyle's jaw. Kyle toppled over, but quickly regained his footing and charged at the bigger man again. Isabel couldn't turn her head, but she saw Kyle drive the man back, into the bathroom door. There was a sharp crack, and suddenly, the man disintegrated into a pile of gray dust. He's a Skin! she thought. And wherever there's one, there are others. Winded, Kyle slumped onto the floor and looked at her. «I didn't see any others. How did the Skins track us down?» You heard me? Isabel thought. Yeah, Kyle's voice answered in her head. She stared intently at his face, but didn't see his lips move. Get me free from this thing, then, Isabel thought. He used that device to trap me somehow. He fiddled with some dial or switch on it. Kyle retrieved the alien object from the floor and fiddled with it for a moment. Isabel felt the constricting paralysis leave her almost immediately, though she still felt a crackling energy under her skin, like the pins-and-needles sensation of a leg falling asleep from bad circulation. «Thanks," she said, gathering her robe around her modestly. «We've got to find out if there are any other Skins around.» «Oh, there are others, all right," a woman's voice said. Isabel turned to see a middle-aged woman dressed in blue polyester standing in the open doorway. She was holding a pistol with a silencer mounted on the end of its barrel. «Lucinda?» Kyle looked incredulous. «I decided to invite myself to your room, since you weren't about to do it," she sneered. «But I actually don't need you, cutey. I just need her.» The woman turned and fired the gun directly at Kyle. Isabel reacted completely by instinct, instantly erecting an energy force field in front of Kyle. The bullet smashed against the invisible shield and remained frozen in midair, suspended like a fly caught in a web. A second later, Isabel turned and glared at the woman. The bullet reversed its trajectory, piercing the shooter's shoulder at ballistic speed. Lucinda screamed and fell backward, dropping the gun. Using her telekinetic power, Isabel flicked the weapon aside, out of the woman's reach. Kyle was speechless, and stood stock-still, staring at Isabel, who gestured toward Lucinda. «Come on. We need to find out what she knows before more of them show up.» As Isabel and Kyle moved toward the woman, Isabel saw that she was moving one of her hands toward the small of her back. She's trying to dust herself, Isabel thought. Back in Roswell, a friendly Skin named Courtney had taught them about the pressure seal in the human husks that the Skins inhabited; when the seal at the base of the spine was broken, the bodies turned to dust. It seemed to be the only way to kill a Skin. «Not so fast, Lucinda," Kyle said, grabbing the woman's arm before she could complete the act of suicide. He pulled her off the floor and sat her down on a chair. Holding her still with one hand, he reached for his duffel bag with the other. A few moments later, he had her hands securely tied together behind the chair, using the cord from his electric razor. Isabel retrieved Lucinda's purse and opened it. Inside were many of the normal items a human woman would be expected to carry, as well as something unusual. It was another black pentagonal device, with a raised white area in the middle. The white central nodule was split into five parts, and the outer black casing area bore alien symbols that Isabel recognized as Antarian. «What is this?» Isabel asked the woman. «No," Lucinda said, shaking her head. «You can do whatever you want to me, but I won't give you any answers.» Isabel heard Kyle's voice in her head again. She's right. She was ready to kill herself. Why would she tell us anything? I have an idea, Isabel thought. But I'm going to need your help. Isabel faced the woman again. «Have you ever met Nicholas?» Lucinda smirked derisively. «N'Kolus? Your ex-lover on Antar? Of course.» Isabel tried to remain unfazed, though she knew that Kyle hadn't been aware of that shameful episode from her past. «Then you know that Nicholas has the power to remove memories from the minds of others. That's what we're going to do to you.» Glaring, Lucinda said, «You don't have that kind of power.» «Maybe not all by myself," Isabel said, nodding toward Kyle. «But in case you haven't noticed, I'm not all by myself.» Lucinda's eyes widened in something that looked very much like fear. Kyle felt Isabel's hand on his shoulder and heard her voice in his head. Go ahead, Kyle. I don't know what I'm doing, he thought, wondering if he'd ever get used to having conversations inside other people's heads. Still, he did his best to reach out with his thoughts just the same. In his mind, Isabel was there, and they walked together in darkness. Ahead of them were lights, flashing by. They walked closer to the moving lights and saw that it was as if they were looking through a train window, out at the world speeding by outside. Except that everything seemed to be moving backward. Then Kyle saw the events of the last several minutes quickly rewinding, and entirely from Lucinda's viewpoint. As though he had temporarily taken up residence in her body, he observed in silence as she walked backward from the sleeping car, unscrewed the silencer from the barrel of her gun and put both back into her purse, and watched as Kyle exited the lounge car. Suddenly, Kyle seemed to be back in his own body, standing beside Isabel in the darkness. «You met her in the lounge?» she asked, obviously having just witnessed everything he had just seen/experienced. «Didn't Liz tell you to stay away from the woman in blue polyester?» «She came over to me," Kyle protested, feeling slightly overwhelmed by this bizarre, almost out-of-body experience. He watched as Isabel or the mental representation of Isabel that stood beside him in this strange mindscape raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical about his protestations of innocence. She abruptly adopted a more serious demeanor. «Is there any way to go to a specific memory, or do we just scroll backward until we hit on it?» He shrugged, or his ectoplasm did. «Hey, I'm afraid this new superpower of mine didn't come with a user's manual. Until the last few days, my closest brush with the paranormal was a few dreamwalks courtesy of my own private Psychic Friends Network. Isabel Evans was the one who took me on those trips, if I remember her name right.» Isabel returned his shrug. «Fair enough.» Though he was still almost completely at sea about how his new abilities worked, Kyle decided it wouldn't hurt to try to use them to help her in any way he could; he might even impress her a little bit in the process. He felt his brow furrow as he concentrated. How did you find us? he thought, conscious that he was thinking within a psychic space that he had somehow constructed from his own thoughts, as well as from the memories of an alien woman. The background around them changed, and he was once again seeing/experiencing Lucinda holding the pentagonal device, which she pointed toward the second level of the train, where earlier Isabel and Kyle had been eating lunch. The white lights on the device were blinking in a fast, repeating sequence. The ruddy-faced man the Skin who had turned to dust after attacking Isabel was beside Lucinda. Then, the pair walked backward, exiting the train and the train station, entered a car, unparked it, and drove backward away from the train depots garage. Lucinda was holding the device the entire time, studying the changing patterns of lights in its center. «They caught up to us at the Fairfield station," Isabel said. «That thing must be some kind of tracking device.» She turned to Kyle. «Is that how they keep finding us? Where did these gadgets come from?» Kyle pushed his thoughts further toward Lucinda's memories, trying to cleave through them as quickly as possible. He felt her mind rebel against his intrusion, felt her memories rip like crepe paper bunting as he moved through them. He tread as carefully as he could, and felt horrible that he was using violence even violence on an abstract plane such as this was anathema to his Buddhist sensibilities but he knew that innocent lives might depend on his finding out the truth about the aliens who had dogged them just as much as the Special Unit had. And then he saw it, and heard Isabel gasp as she did as well. Lucinda was standing in a parking lot, looking at the pentagonal device, whose white lights were flashing quickly. It beeped as well, as though sounding an alarm. And then Lucinda was running backward, putting the device into her purse; next she was inside a store, closing her purse and putting her groceries back on the counter. She took her check back from the clerk and dated it: May 15, 2000. Isabel looked at Kyle in surprise. «That was the day we activated the communicators.» «And?» Kyle rolled his hands, mimicking a snowball rolling down a hill. «I wasn't there. What happened?» «I was in the cave in the desert, with Max, Michael, and Tess," Isabel said. «We activated the communicators after Nasedo left. We saw a message from Max's and my mother. She talked about our destiny as the Royal Four.» «Well, those communicators must have caused something else to happen too, considering all the close encounters we've all had over the past couple of years," Kyle said. «That must explain how some of the aliens who've attacked us have managed to find us," Isabel said, nodding. «These devices must be tuned in to our bodies somehow. Or our brain waves. Or something.» Kyle nodded. «Or maybe it's your Antarian genes they're tuned to.» Isabel considered that for a moment. «Wouldn't that mean that our New York duplicates would have been tracked too?» «Do we know that they haven't been?» Kyle said. «Good point. Why don't you ask this Skin woman about that.» Kyle pushed again, but didn't find anything this time. «I think we've about tapped her for information," he said, hoping that his inquiries hadn't permanently injured her. A moment later, he and Isabel opened their eyes, and they were back in the train's sleeper car. Lucinda looked as if she had been whacked in the head with a hammer. But her eyes were open, if barely focused. «Damn you, Vilandra!» she spat. «You'll betray everything and everyone around you, no matter how many lives fate grants you! But Kivar won't stop either. He'll keep sending more of us after you as many times as it takes. And finally, one day " Kyle saw Isabel's jaw clench, and she blinked once. Lucinda's body abruptly tumbled into a pile of gray ash, spilling all over the chair and floor. Her empty blue polyester suit collapsed like a deflated balloon, and the electrical cord that had tied her hands dropped limply behind the chair. «Did you do that?» Kyle asked, unable to keep the shock out of his voice. Isabel turned toward him with eyes like storm clouds. «Kyle, this is war. She would have killed you, and who knows what they wanted to do with me. Michael is right. We cannot keep running. We can't keep showing mercy to our enemies. There may or may not be any more Skins on this train, but who knows how many of them or other aliens, like the ones who kidnapped those girls in Stonewall are tracking us right now? Not to mention the Special Unit.» Kyle considered arguing with her, but the barely restrained fury behind her eyes persuaded him not to try. Instead he turned and looked for something he could use to sweep up the mortal remains of their two Skin attackers. Later Isabel found Kyle sitting up in the trains observation lounge, where he was looking out into the night through the large window. No one else was in the room since there was so little to see on this leg of their voyage to Boston via Chicago, particularly at night. «There you are," Isabel said. «Took me a while to find you.» She felt a pang of remorse for having been so rough with him earlier, after the encounter with the Skins. «Why didn't you just use our psychic link?» Kyle said dryly. «I'm not sure how to activate it," she said, sitting down near him on the padded bench. «I think you have to want it to be activated. Or start it somehow.» «Like I keep saying, I'm kinda new to this whole 'alien powers' thing," Kyle said. «I didn't expect to become a charter member of the Psychic Hotline after I graduated from high school.» Isabel smiled, then reached forward to grab his hand. «Hey, I'm sorry about earlier. I didn't mean to go all Buffyversus-evil on you.» He squeezed her fingers, then withdrew his hand. He offered her a slight smile. «It's okay. Maybe I'm just freaked out because your robe didn't cover very much when I was trying to save your life.» Isabel felt herself blushing, and she glared at Kyle. «Ahhh, I try to make peace, and you try to embarrass me. You'd better watch out, Kyle Valenti. I might dreamwalk you and find a way to make you absolutely terrified of nubile, seminude women.» They sat silently for a while, sneaking looks and smiles at each other. Was this a flirtation? Suddenly, Isabel felt another stab of guilt. Jesse. Kyle was the one who finally broke the silence. «Let's try Jesse.» Isabel raised an eyebrow, wondering if Kyle had tapped into her thoughts again. «Try Jesse how?» Kyle snorted. «Get your mind out of the gutter, Isabel. Let's try contacting him. Use me as your psychic superhighway. It'll be good practice, and;might even make me feel more positive about using these new powers of mine.» Isabel nodded. She looked into Kyle's eyes, then closed hers. She reached out toward Kyle with her mind, but saw nothing but darkness. And then suddenly, she was spinning, traveling down a corridor of multicolored lights, spiraling toward an almost dazzling brightness. «Jesse?» Isabel saw him sitting in the seat of a smallish plane, one of whose jet engines was visible through the window. Jesse was leafing through a stack of manila files that sat in his lap. «Jesse?» He looked up and straight at her, surprise on his face. «Isabel? What? How are you here?» «I'm not," Isabel said, looking around the plane's compact cabin. She actually felt as though she were standing in the aisle beside him, and ducked her head to avoid bonking it on the ceiling. And she noticed that Kyle was apparently standing beside her as well, although Jesse had so far shown no sign of noticing his presence. «It's a long story," Isabel told Jesse. «I'm here courtesy of a friend's emerging new powers. But I'm really not here I'm actually on a train headed toward Chicago. After that, I'll be on my way to see you in Boston.» Jesse looked surprised. «When did this happen?» She opened her mouth to answer, and he interrupted her. «Wait, you can't see me in Boston. I'm flying to Los Angeles.» «Why L.A.? And why now?» Isabel looked around at the surroundings. The only other person in the plane's cramped cabin was a roundish woman who reminded her a bit of one of the lawyers from The Practice. She seemed oblivious to Isabel's presence, and to the fact that Jesse was having an animated discussion with her. «The Special Unit came after me. And I'm not the only one, Isabel. They… they picked up your parents already.» «What?» The image of the plane shifted and stretched, as if Isabel's mental image of it was fracturing. As Jesse filled Isabel in on the day's events, she saw Kyle watching from the back of the cabin. He was frowning. Jesse told her about the abductions that had just taken place in Roswell, his own harrowing close call in Boston, about Valenti and Brody and about the plan Phillip Evans had put in place in case of this very emergency. «It's the only way, Isabel.» "'Outing' us to the world? Seems pretty extreme.» «These are extreme times. Your father understands that. That's why he planned for this eventuality.» She sighed. «So much for any chance we might have had for a normal life once the world hears that Max and Michael and I are aliens. People will freak out from coast to coast. They'll come after us with torches and pitchforks.» Jesse smiled slightly. «Don't be so sure about that, Isabel. How many people do you think will really believe you're from another planet? If America 'freaks out,' then the government will get the worst of it. When people look at you, they'll see a bunch of kids being victimized by an out-of-control agency. Those torches and pitchforks will be for the Special Unit.» Isabel decided to table that issue for the moment. «How were you able to take a private plane?» she asked. «Brody paid for it. He's loaded, Isabel.» At that moment, Isabel made a decision, though she was aware that probably it was exactly the wrong decision. But it was hers to make. «Land in Chicago, Jesse. We'll be there in less than an hour. Kyle and I will come with you to Los Angeles.» Jesse's eyebrows pulled together. «Seriously?» «Seriously.» Isabel saw Kyle's eyes bugging out. He was obviously privy to the conversation. She stared at him for a moment, willing him to stay silent. He seemed to take the hint, or perhaps he didn't want to risk overstraining his new ability by injecting his own thoughts across the mental connection he'd forged between her and Jesse. Still, the look in his eyes asked a clear question: Are you crazy? After all, Liz had had several future flashes of Special Unit doctors slicing her open like a trout. Jesse nodded, and she forced thoughts of Liz's premonitions aside. «Okay," he said. «I'll meet you in the Windy City.» «I'll find you, Jesse.» He looked wounded. «You have to go now?» She nodded. «I don't want to put too much strain on Kyle's new power. But I'll see you soon. I love you.» «I love you too, baby," Jesse said. And then, Isabel was back in the train's car, staring at a very annoyed Kyle. «What are you thinking!» Kyle asked. «You know that if we go to California, you run the risk that Liz's premonition will come true.» «I know," Isabel said. «But I don't want Jesse to know about that.» She gave him a severe look. «I'm serious, Kyle. He doesn't hear about it. At least not until we rejoin the others.» «I think this is a very bad idea," Kyle said. Isabel nodded, then let out a heavy sigh. «Yeah, it probably is. But maybe we've already altered the present enough so that the future Liz saw can't happen.» Kyle lapsed into silence for a moment. «Do you really think this idea that your dad put together to 'out' you guys and the Special Unit will work? It sounds awfully iffy.» «I'm not sure I like it either," Isabel said, waving her hand to one side. «But if we're all together in California, with the resources to make that choice if we need to, then maybe we'll find another option instead.» She brightened for a moment, and placed her hand atop his again. «Hey, there's one good thing about this. Your powers worked pretty well this time.» Kyle snorted. «What exactly are these powers? I don't really have a clue.» «Looks to me like some kind of third-party telepathy thing, except when it comes to those of us who already have powers," Isabel said. «You seem to be amplifying my powers, for instance. I can dreamwalk people when they're asleep, but I think you enabled me to do it while Jesse was awake.» She paused and thought for a moment. «Maybe you're like a psychic road for normal people, but a superhighway for aliens?» «Great," Kyle said, his voice lacking any trace of enthusiasm. «You know, when we took those aptitude tests in high school, I knew there was a reason that I scored so well on the 'psychic highway construction worker'job category.» «Hey, at least it's better than the 'alien-hunting government agent' job," Isabel said. They both laughed, but she thought she heard a brittle edge behind their mirth. Jesse made his way to the pilot's cabin of the private jet. He tapped the pilot and copilot on the shoulders. «We need to go back and land in Chicago.» The pilot looked at him as if he had grown a second head. «What? We're already almost to Colorado.» «That's why I said we need to go back» Jesse said firmly. «We have two more people to pick up there.» «Why didn't you tell us earlier?» the copilot asked. «I didn't know earlier," Jesse said. «Look, you guys are making some good money on this trip. Just accept that this will make your paycheck even bigger, okay?» «You're the boss," the pilot said, giving him a mock salute. Jesse made his way into the back seating area again. Shelby looked up and saw him. «What was all that about?» she asked. «We're going back to Chicago," Jesse said. «My wife and Kyle Valenti are on their way there now. We're taking them to California with us.» Shelby raised an eyebrow, but didn't argue. Jesse sat back in his seat and smiled to himself. After the stress of the last day or so, it would be heavenly to see Isabel again. With her by his side, he was sure that everything was going to work out for the best. 9. City of Industry, California Wight was falling quickly, and Rath was grateful for its concealing shadows. The building he and Lonnie stood before was old, industrial, and had obviously seen better times. Rath thought its best days were probably decades behind it, when it had probably been some sort of factory or cannery. Strangely enough, the crumbling, peeling, three-story edifice was located right in the heart of the aptly named City of Industry just outside of Los Angeles proper along 5 Freeway. As far as he could tell from the outside, the place was abandoned. If the place had ever been equipped with obvious external security cameras or entry keypads, they had been pilfered long ago. Leave it to the MiBs to be sneaky enough to hide their crazy Dr. Evil headquarters right out in plain sight, Rath thought. But this is definitely the place. He wasn't quite sure exactly how he knew that. But he did, and with a conviction he'd never known before. He would have staked his life on it, and supposed that he might already have done so. Lonnie crouched beside Rath in the narrow alley as he peered through the basement-level window. His view was obscured by the iron bars that covered the low window frame, the grime on the panes, and the impenetrable darkness that lay beyond both. «The bad guys might be watching us," she whispered, her breath warm and pleasant against his ear. «They can hide their spy cameras just about anywhere.» Rath nodded silently, then turned to face her. «Maybe they can't watch every little crack we find in their armor," he said with a shrug. «Maybe they're not expecting us to try something like this.» «Maybe," she said, sounding unconvinced. Rath noticed, however, that she wasn't making any move to back away from what they'd decided they had to do. Perhaps the fact that they had used their shapeshifting abilities to darken their hair and alter their clothing to something more MiB-appropriate had bolstered her confidence. Lonnie suddenly put her arm around him and drew him into a moist, languid kiss. «For luck," she said after coming up for air. He smiled wryly as he pushed her gently away. «Let's focus. And try not to start anything we don't have time to finish.» Then he turned his attention back to the window, straining once again to see what lay beyond it. He might as well have been staring into a coal mine at midnight. If we had any brains at all, we'd run like hell and forget all about trying to bust Ava out. With nearly as much conviction as he'd felt that he'd found the place where the MiBs had taken Ava, a small, still voice in the back of his mind whispered, This is a trap. But his need to find Ava, to reassemble the East Coast Royal Four as completely as was possible after Zan's death, won out. Almost of its own volition, Rath's right hand came up. His palm immediately began glowing cherry red, and he placed it against one of the bars, melting it into semiliquid goo. Lonnie silently did likewise, as though reading his mind. Within seconds, the bars melted like butter and began to liquefy. The beads of molten metal scattered away from their skin, propelled by the waves of force being channeled through their minds and fingers. A few moments later, the window itself had gone the way of the iron bars. An entry into the dark unknown yawned before them, beckoning. We're coming for you, Ava, Rath thought, disregarding the alarms that were sounding in his hindbrain. Hang in there, Queenie. The general of the Armies ofAntar is riding to the rescue. Rath let himself down into the basement window first, then helped Lonnie lower herself to the floor. Rath took her hand, cautiously advancing into the darkness until his eyes began to adjust. The dark basement seemed filled with odd shapes that suggested broken, discarded factory equipment to Rath. Soon they reached the far wall, which lay some thirty feet from their improvised entryway. Feeling along the far wall in the shadows, his left hand fell upon a doorknob. Locked. He smiled, then channeled some of his power into his hand. The knob fell away onto the concrete floor with a dull clunk, and the door slowly swung open, letting in light from the other side. «Here goes," he said, then stepped across the threshold into the light. Margolin made sure once again that his protective skullcap hadn't slipped. He watched the surveillance room monitor in silence, as did a half-dozen other dark-suited agents, all of whom were outfitted with psi-protective headgear. «I've really got to hand it to you, Viceroy," said Bartolli, who stood at Margolin's side, also clad in a foil cap. «This was a brilliant idea the crazy party hats notwithstanding.» «The fugitives have entered the central corridor," one of the agents reported unnecessarily, her hand on her headset. Margolin smiled, pleased to have reminded the ambitious Bartolli yet again why he, Viceroy, was the one charged with running the Special Unit. On the monitor, the Guerin boy and Isabel Evans or perhaps the duplicates that the interrogation team in Elk, New Mexico, had reported were striding with apparent impunity down a well-lit, carpeted corridor. They're getting close, Margolin thought, determined that none of his quarry would elude him this time. «Gotta give them credit for being confident," Bartolli said, watching the screen as he idly played with the long, wicked-looking knife he had carried ever since his Navy SEAL days back in the 1980s. Margolin chuckled. «The credit belongs to the Harding girl, now that we've tapered off her tranquilizers. After all, she knows that her little friends need to be brave and loyal if they're to stand any chance at all of rescuing her. So she's apparently given them more than enough bravery and loyalty.» «No doubt after trying and failing to use her persuasive powers on us» Bartolli said, pointing to the foil cap on his head. «Of course," Margolin said, nodding. «If one wants an adversary to move in a particular direction, one has to close off all the alternatives. She knows her only chance is to reach straight into her friends' minds and force them to come back and get her.» Margolin watched as the two teens sneaked up on a trio of apparently oblivious agents working a security post. They began reaching for their weapons a little too late per their orders and were slammed roughly into a wall by blasts of amber-colored power from the Guerin boy's hands. Margolin noted how still the agents lay afterward, and hoped that they were merely unconscious. Bartolli shook his head. «Did we really need to let that happen?» he said, pitching his voice so that only Margolin could hear him. «Absolutely. They have to think they're getting the better of us… until the time comes to spring the trap.» «This is almost too easy," Lonnie said, pointing to the clipboard that hung on the door ahead of them. HARDING, TESS, it read. Tess Harding, she thought. That's the name oj the other Ava, the one from way out in the New Mexico boonies. The one Ava said died a few months ago. That must be who the MiBs think they've grabbed. They must think Rath and I are part oj that defective Roswell bunch too. «Easy, nothing," Rath said, beginning to look tired. «It wasn't exactly a picnic in the park bringing down those guards, dear Vilandra.» «Yeah, but there should have been more of them," Lonnie said. And yet, despite her misgivings, despite her growing fear that they had both been drawn into an elaborate trap, she found that she could not turn back. «This is where they're holding Ava," Lonnie said, gesturing toward the door. «It has to be.» Rath scowled, pointing at the clipboard that bore Tess Harding's name. «Thank you, O Mistress of the Obvious. I managed to Mulder that one out for myself.» Lonnie ignored him. Against her better judgment, she placed her hand on the doorknob, turned it, and discovered that it wasn't locked. Very slowly, she pushed the door open. Rath led the way yet again, prompting Lonnie to wonder when her usually self-absorbed lover had become so chivalrous. It was almost as though he was being influenced by some outside force. Oh, my God, she thought, following Rath into the room as she realized what must have happened. The room she and Rath entered contained what appeared to be a large surgical operating theater, almost like something out of Young Frankenstein, only a lot more modern. A balcony, filled with empty seats, overlooked the place from above. The room's center was dominated by a large flat table, over which hung a large cluster of gleaming metal lamps. The table was surrounded by a confusing array of IVs, tubes, respirators, and chrome-plated medical monitoring equipment, none of which appeared to be turned on at the moment. But it was the body strapped to the table that drew Lonnie's attention the most. It was Ava, and she was alive, trying to raise her head in their direction. «Thank God you guys finally made it," Ava said to them both, smiling broadly. «I knew you wouldn't leave me here.» Lonnie only glared silently at her. «Looks like you didn't leave us a whole hell of a lot of choice," Rath said, evidently having just come to the same conclusion Lonnie had. «You mindwarped us into rescuing you," Lonnie said, wondering momentarily how Ava had managed to influence them over a distance of several miles. Had the bond between the Royal Three really grown so strong over the years? Or had the MiBs drugged her in a way that ramped her powers up instead of damping them down? Ava seemed to be trying to shrug, despite the bonds that held her down by the wrists and throat. «Do you mind if we argue about that later? After you get me out of here?» Lonnie raised her hand and released a burst of energy. The strap holding down one of Ava's wrists shattered, scattering bits of debris around the room. «Hey!» Ava shouted. «Take it easy!» Rath stepped forward, raised his hands, and released another three blasts in quick succession. A moment later, Ava was wobbling on her feet and staring defiantly at them both. «I'm not going to apologize for bringing you here," Ava said. «And I wouldn't have had to do it if you hadn't dumped me back at LAX.» Rath shook his head. «I don't get it, Ava. If your power is strong enough to do a direct-dial, long-distance mindwarp, then why didn't you just force the MiBs to let you go? Why drag us right into their evil lair?» «Must be those tinfoil hats.» Lonnie was sure she must have heard that wrong. «What are you " «Freeze!» shouted a rough voice from up on the balcony. «Get on the floor! Now!» Lonnie felt rooted to the floor, unsure of what to do. Time seemed to slow, as though everyone present were swimming in a vat of syrup. In the balcony above, several black-suited MiBs were taking two-handed aim with huge pistols that wouldn't have looked out of place on Han Solo's hip. She watched as Rath extended his hands and released a rapid succession of power blasts. He hit the floor, rolled, fired again, and then bedlam broke out in the balcony as the MiBs seemed to begin fighting among themselves. Bullets caromed around the room. At least one slug struck Rath in the shoulder. Another appeared to strike Ava in the side. «Come on!» Rath shouted, ignoring his wound as he ran for the door. Ava followed immediately, and Lonnie at last began moving, bringing up the rear. Then something struck her in the back, knocking the wind from her and casting her down into a black abyss. Shunting aside the resentment he felt toward Ava, Rath allowed his military instincts to take over. His hands glowed and throbbed with power as he counted the MiBs on the balcony. Five of them, he thought, releasing blast after blast from his palms. Like the three guards they had overcome out in the corridor, these guys all wore what appeared to be tinfoil beanies. Like crazy homeless people, but with better clothes, Rath thought as he threw himself to the floor, rolled, and sprang back to his feet, loosing another quick pair of blasts. One of the MiBs lost his skullcap from the impact. Rath realized that Ava was taking full advantage of that when the hatless agent suddenly turned his weapon on the man beside him, shooting him in the chest. A third agent brought his weapon up and dropped the hatless man in his tracks. Something bit him on the right shoulder. It felt like a beesting, though the warm, wet flow of blood and the sensation of burning betrayed it as a gunshot wound. Rath decided to assume that these guys were all done fooling around with lasers and stun-guns. «Come on!» he said, sprinting for the door and swallowing his pain. He heard the girls' footfalls behind him, but didn't look back as he ran into the corridor. He put up a force field between himself and the dozen or so federal agents who were now swarming toward him from both ends of the hallway. Bullets and trank darts spattered ineffectually against the energy barrier. Guess they're not all shooting to kill, Rath thought, not comforted in the least by the observation. «The way we came in isn't that far from here," he shouted, still running. Ava, though still unsteady, was keeping pace alongside him. «Keep aiming your blasts at their headgear, Rath," Ava said. «Maybe I can make enough of them think we're invisible so we can slip out of here.» Only then did Rath notice that Ava's postpunk ensemble was spattered with fresh red blood, evidently her own. And that Lonnie hadn't made it out into the corridor. «Lonnie! We've gotta go back for her!» Bullets whizzed down the corridor, only to be stopped by Rath's force field. He looked into Ava's eyes, and she met his gaze without flinching. «We go back for Lonnie, we get captured. AH of us. You want that?» No, Rath thought. And Lonnie wouldn't want that either. As they fought their way to the lightless basement through which Rath and Lonnie had entered the building, Rath kept telling himself that Lonnie would want him to escape, even if she couldn't. Something in the back of his mind told him that the only way he could get to safety was to be forcibly mindfreaked by Ava, who wasn't even allowing him to be angry about that for the moment. Disgusted, Margolin gestured toward the table in the center of the operating theater. The agents the ones who hadn't been zapped into insensibility or killed by the escaping teens, that is hastened to place the unconscious Evans girl there, in the spot previously occupied by Tess Harding. Harding's escape, and that of the Guerin boy, rankled him. I was overconfident again. He swore not to be so careless next time. Bartolli approached him, an accusatory look on his hatchetlike face. But he appeared to be sensitive enough to Margolin's simmering anger not to offer any unsolicited criticism of the Special Unit's latest failure. Evidently even a predator like Bartolli knew better than trying to bite the big dog at a time like this. «What now?» was all Viceroy's second-in-command said. After a moment's thought, Margolin replied. «We move forward with the disposition of the one alien still in our possession. While she's still in our possession.» Bartolli nodded. «You want to make an example of her.» «Damn straight I do," said the man called Viceroy, recalling the vivisection that the late Special Agent Pierce had almost succeeded in performing on Max Evans in a facility not too different from this one. «Call the medical guys back in, and tell them they have the green light to find out what makes this alien tick.» Viceroy grinned a death's-head grin. «The time has come for invasive procedures.» 10. Los Angeles «I I think it's just up this way," Max said, pointing to the road that veered off to the right, just ahead of the Microbus's headlights. He had to admit that even he was getting frustrated trying to find his way to Langley's mansion through the steep labyrinth that was the Hollywood Hills. And it was especially hard to do this at night. «What's the compass-thingy say?» Maria asked. Liz looked up, exasperated. «I don't know. I can't seem to read it right. The lights keep pointing all around. It's not making any sense.» «Too bad he's not on one of the maps of the stars that all those people on the street corners were selling," Michael said, then turned the steering wheel sharply. «So, we try this road now.» As they passed impressive house after impressive house, Max had to marvel at the money people spent to live in such luxury. He was amused that although he used to be a king and likely lived very well he had become so used to a far simpler life in Roswell that this sort of opulence seemed excessive to him now. Almost embarrassing. «I remember that place," Max said, pointing straight ahead. «Langleys is about half a mile past that.» A short distance farther, Michael pulled the van over into a gated driveway. Cameras on top of the gate swiveled toward the van, and a voice issued from a black box atop a post near the driver's side. «State your business.» «Maxwell Evans and company, here to see Kal Langley," Michael said. «Mr. Langley is occupied at present," the officious voice said. «Do you have an appointment?» «No, we don't have an appointment. Would you just tell him that Max Evans is " «I'm afraid you'll need to make an appointment with Mr. Langleys office," the man said, interrupting Michael. Michael turned to Max. «I thought you said you could make this guy do whatever you wanted?» «I can, but I have to get to him first," Max said. «It doesn't work on flunkies.» «Screw this," Michael said. He leaned out the window and pushed his palm outward, in the direction of the iron gate. His palm glowed red for a brief moment, then the gates burst open in the center. Michael drove the Microbus up into the driveway, and the four of them piled out of the vehicle. Max led the way up the steps, expecting to hear alarms or the shouts of security guards any second. Instead, the door was opened by a fiftyish man in a suit. «Good evening, Mr. Evans. Mr. Langley will be down momentarily.» As they stepped into the foyer of the mansion, Michael asked, «Why didn't you just let us in, if you knew Max was okay?» «Because Max is not okay to just drop in on me whenever he feels like it.» The voice came from a balding man with squinty eyes, who was descending the stairway. He was tying a robe closed around his bare, hairy chest. «I'm sorry, Kal, but it's important that we talk to you," Max said. «Yeah, that's what you said last time, too, and we both know how well that worked out," Langley said, a sour look on his face. «You completely screwed up my life.» Max sighed heavily. «I'm sorry. I did what was necessary.» «Was it necessary to zap my gate out front just now? On camera?» Langley gestured to his butler. «It's a good thing Belton here knows what's up, or we'd both have some explaining to do.» «If he had let us in, we wouldn't have had to zap it," Michael said defensively. Langley regarded him for a moment. «Surly attitude. Jumps before thinking. I'd guess you must be Rath's duplicate, huh?» He didn't wait for an answer before turning to peer at the girls. He pointed at Liz, then Maria. «I'm betting that you're Ava, and you're Vilandra. Nasedo must have taught you more about shapeshifting than I realized. You know, you seem a lot shorter than the real Vilandra, but given our average height here relative to on Antar, I guess it's a wash.» Max was astonished, and he looked over toward the butler. «How much does this guy know?» he asked Langley. Langley snorted. «Belton? He's a Krandal. They were one of the races loyal to you back in the Antarian system.» «And he's working for you? On Earth?» Michael sounded incredulous. Langley spread his hands and furrowed his brow, mocking Michael. «Oh, come on. I know you guys have met other aliens. At least the Skins. All Jive planets have 'people' here on the good old third rock from the sun. Some are political refugees, some are here to track you guys down, some are here for reasons of their own. The ones in that last category usually don't survive too long.» Langley paused and gestured behind him. «You guys want a drink? I don't know if you're legal, but if you combined your Antarian age and your age here on Earth you could have fought in the Civil War. America's Civil War.» «We'll pass," Max said, pointing to himself and Michael. «Alcohol doesn't mix well with our systems.» «Duh," Langley said. «That's half the fun. Follow me. I think I have some milk or juice in here too.» As they followed him into the kitchen, Liz spoke up. «I'm not Ava, by the way. I'm Liz, Max's wife.» She gave Max a cold stare, and he realized that he should have been the one to make the introductions and correct Langley's initial misimpression. «And I'm not Vilandra," Maria said. «My name is Maria. And we're both fully human.» Langley regarded the entire group for a moment. «My mistake. Guess I didn't look closely enough.» He studied Liz more intently. «You may have been fully human before, but you're not quite normal now, are you?» «I healed her," Max said. «She seems to have developed some kind of secondary powers because of that.» «That'll happen.» Langley nodded as he pulled bottles and cans out of one of the several refrigerators in his enormous kitchen. «Didn't Nasedo teach you anything?» He set the bottles down on the counter, then grabbed a couple of containers of Tabasco sauce and handed them to Max and Michael. «Chasers," he said simply. He poured himself a drink, and then sat down on a stool behind a large, shiny countertop. Gesturing toward the other stools arranged around the counter, he said, «Sit.