Title: Whom among us Part five
Author: Chris Kenworthy
Email:
Chris_Kenworthy@yahoo.com
Rating: PG-13 for now
Disclaimer: No, I don't own any of the Roswell characters. I don't plan to steal them and lock them up in white rooms either.

I just let them out to play from time to time and see what happens.
Distribution: Distribute anywhere you like, now based at
http://www.fanfiction.net/~chriskenworthy
Author's notes: Future fic. Assumes that Liz has a lot more luck cutting Max out of her life after 'End of the world.' There's been a lot of furor over whether this qualifies as a dreamer fic, so watch out if you have no tolerance for rebel-ness.
Spoilers: End of the world. Scattered concepts after that.
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The sun shone brightly down through greening trees, and a warm spring wind tried its hardest to ruffle the freshly shorn grass, before giving up, as Max and Liz headed over the campus to whatever restaurant Liz was suggesting for brunch.
I shouldn't be here, Max thought. I should be back in the apartment so that when my wife wakes up, I'd be there. I definitely shouldn't be walking across what seems to be Arizona State's soccer field, with Liz Parker, so that I can go to brunch with her.
And yet, here I am...
It wasn't that cut and dried, really. Max knew that. There were some things he needed to say to Liz, away from the others. This brunch would be a good opportunity to...
Damn, she's gorgeous. How many women can make a sweatshirt and baggy jeans a stunning ensemble like that? Well, not that Tess wouldn't look cute like that, because she would, if she ever dressed like that. But Liz... anything to do with Liz still seems 'more so' than something that doesn't, even after all this time... and I have *so* got to get off this train of thought.
"I'd like to apologize," Max suddenly blurted out, "about earlier this morning. It must have been very uncomfortable for you and I'm pleasantly surprised that you didn't just walk out on us and let me fend for myself. The lightning bolt is our problem, after all."
"Oh, I couldn't let you do that," Liz said softly. Her voice made his stomach flutter as much as it always used to. "I made a commitment to help you, and it's the least I can do after all you gave me... starting from giving me my life back and continuing on from there."
Oh god, did she have to bring that up? Nothing could make Max feel warm and fuzzy about Liz like remembering the day she almost died... no matter what happened he knew the world was a much better place with her in it. It was one of the best things he could think of to justify his own life... and that he was brought back, after being killed on his home world, and that so many people had to die to protect his secret. If he hadn't been in Roswell, this incredible, wonderful girl's life would have been a tragedy - shot dead at sixteen by a trucker over some stupid argument that had nothing to do with her.
"I just..." Liz continued, startling Max out of his own thoughts. "I want you to know that no matter how things turned out between us, I treasure every moment that we spent together, and I wouldn't have cut you out of my life if I had felt I had any choice."
"I guess, since you're here with me now, you feel that things have changed." Oh great, how dumb a thing was that to say? Totally obvious, for one thing.
"Well yeah, a lot has changed, obviously." Liz said with a small nod. Max couldn't help noticing how her hair moved with the gesture. It was curlier than it used to be, which had surprised him from the first moment he saw her here in Arizona, but she looked good like that. It was a little longer too, but still the same incredibly rich dark brown... "You and Tess... Michael and Isabel. I mean, when you guys left, you were only just starting to believe that you could be with each other. Obviously, there isn't any doubt now."
She sighed, stepping out onto a street. "Speaking of whom... what the heck is up with Michael and Isabel? I mean... Michael was never tactful, or even nice very often, but he's changed a lot from the way I remember him. And Isabel never used to be harsh or unfeeling..."
"They've been through a lot; we all have." Max let out a deep breath of his own. "Michael... well, he's not used to dealing with outsiders at this point. He's responsible for battle plans, for keeping all of us safe, and I think it hardens him. Distrust of outsiders has become a major theme, and I guess after all these years, you've become an outsider again."
Liz nodded. "I guess that makes some sense, from his perspective. And Isabel?"
Max nodded solemnly for a while before he answered. They were coming to a more built-up area of campus now, probably approaching Liz's restaurant. "Well, as you've noticed, Isabel's powers have grown, a lot, over the past few years. She's been having to use telepathy more and more lately, and it's quite a strain. She told me once that she wasn't sure where the other people left off and she began. So she tends to overcompensate, voicing any thought she can be sure is one hundred percent Isabel without stopping to think if it's tactful or not. There's an 'us versus them' mentality in Isabel's job too - us being the aliens who she joins together for our own protection, and them being the humans who get deceived and manipulated."
"Yeah, gee, I never thought of it that way," Liz replied with a sympathetic look on her face, as she led Max into a building that looked slightly like a small shopping mall, next to the student union. Max noticed the grocery store she had told Michael about on the right, and decided to pick up some provisions for the others on the way home from brunch.
"From what I remember from freshman psych," Liz was saying, "that kind of environment that Isabel's in could lead to schizophrenic tendencies."
"Well, let's face facts," Max joked with a wide smile. "When the voices you hear inside your head are real, is schizophrenia really an issue any more?" Liz laughed. It felt so good to make her laugh.
And now she was leading him into a store, no, a restaurant. The sign outside read 'Tree of Plenty' and cleverly illustrated signs were hung up behind the counter, listing all kinds of possible foods to order. There wasn't much of a line, so after a freshman finished ordering, Liz stepped up and frowned for a long moment, considering her options. "Umm, french toast, a small steakette, and apple juice. What do you want, Max?"
Max paused a moment and let his instincts take over. "The spicy barbecue wings and a strawberry milkshake, please." Liz giggled again.
After paying the tab, (Liz insisted on treating him,) they were sent off to find a table while their orders were prepared. "So," Liz said while scootching into a booth by the window. "What's the deal with these 'others,' anyway? I'm still a little vague on where they fit in."
Max smiled. "You always were the inquisitive one, weren't you Liz? Well, let's see, where do I start?" He looked around to make sure that no one was close enough to hear him saying something wild. "You remember what my mother said in her message about how we came to be on Earth? That we'd died on our home planet but our 'essence,' our souls were saved?"
"Yes," Liz said, and jumped. "By the way, I *did* make that transcript f the message, I just keep forgetting to give it to you. It's in the pocket of my knapsack, back at the suite."
"It's okay," Max assured her. "I'll make sure to pick it up from you before we go our separate ways." The thought of them separating again seemed to depress Liz as much as it secretly did Max, but what could they do? He couldn't stay with her here forever. "So, bodies were created for us in embryo, using our own genes and human DNA, so that we could live as human beings, but still use our natural abilities. Does that make sense?"
"Yeah," Liz agreed. "Though Nasedo told Michael that your powers were human, not alien, in origin. The peak of the human potential, or something."
"Nasedo may just have been trying to motivate him," Max pointed out. "We all thought of ourselves as basically human at that point, so maybe Nasedo thought it was easier..." A waitress came up to their table with an order, and Max paused until she had left. "easier to do something thinking it was human rather than alien. Still, while humans may have the potential to do what we do, our abilities correspond with the talents we originally had on our home world." Max thought for a second. "I was going somewhere with this, wasn't I?"
"The others," Liz supplied helpfully.
"Right. But mother knew things would be difficult for us here on Earth. Because we'd died before our essence could be salvaged, our memories of home would be faint, deeply submerged. As children we wouldn't know who we were or why we were on Earth... as we didn't. There were to be guardians, four of them... Kilvorens, able to shape-change and command incredible power to defend us. But they weren't our kind, and could only offer protection, not guidance."
"Nasedo was one of them, right?" Liz clarified.
"Yes. Two of the others were killed in the crash, and one vivsected by early special unit researchers." He shook off the pain of those memories. "But four trusted retainers of the royal family volunteered to undergo the procedure along with us - to have their essences transferred into human vessels. Trusted teachers and servants."
"Wait a second..." Liz said, a thoughtful look on her face. "They volunteered for this... while they were still alive?"
"It's kind of hard to make decisions like that when you're dead," Max pointed out. "Yeah, that blew me away too. That these people would give up their lives, their homes, just to help us..."
"I imagine that 'procedure' must have hurt too," Liz pointed out. "I wouldn't want someone sucking *my* soul out..."
Max laughed. "Well, if it did hurt, they never mentioned it. So, they were supposed to be with us while we were growing up, but the pods got separated, and they couldn't do much to find us as kids themselves. But once Michael learned there were other pods, we managed to track them as far as Houston, where Bentor tracked us down." Max let out a sudden yawn. "I think that's enough shop talk for now." He took another bite of his brunch. "Good wings. How d'you find out about this place?"
"Hmm?" Liz blinked prettily in surprise, (not that she wasn't *always* pretty in Max's opinion.) "Um, my mom was here with me to help me move into residence, and we went looking for somewhere to have lunch afterwards," she recounted. "She asked one of the frosh leaders, and he recommended it." She cut a bit out of her steakette and popped it into her mouth on a fork.
Well. "To be honest, that wasn't as much of a story as I'd hoped for," Max admitted. There was so much he wanted to know about Liz, about her life since she had left him, but so few words to ask with. It's not a bad side that I'm so curious, is it? Liz and I used to be good friends as well as girlfriend and boyfriend. It's not like I'm in love with her, just because I want to hear more about her life.
"I'm sorry," Liz said, shrugging and laying her hand down flat on the table in front of her. "There just wasn't a story to tell."
"That's okay," Max said with a smile, reaching out to touch her hand in what he hoped was a non-intrusive, friendly way.
WHOOSH! Suddenly a rush of mental images bombarded him. No, it wasn't an bombardment, because that suggested randomness. It was a simple narrative shown in highly compact thoughts, coming into Max's mind in less than a second:
A beautiful young woman with dark brown hair in a short bob, wearing a tight turtleneck sweater and an almost ankle-length denim skirt, standing next to the bleachers on a football field.
'Hello.' 'Hi, you were in the game, weren't you? Nice field goal.' 'Just doing my part for the team. I'm Randy Davis, by the way.' 'Hi. Liz Parker.' 'Listen, I was looking over at you in the stands every chance I got during the game, and I have to ask; by some crazy chance do you not have a date to the dance yet?'
Liz giggled. 'No, I don't. Is this an invitation?'
"That's weird." Max jumped slightly as Liz spoke in the present, interrupting his absorption of the vision. "That's the first time we've touched since meeting the other day. Somehow, after everything we've gone through... I expected something to happen, you know?"
She didn't feel it? Well, maybe that's for the best. If I got the memory of Liz meeting her boyfriend, what would Liz have seen in my life? My commitment vows? Being with Tess for the first time?? If she has any memories of us at all, those are things better kept from her.
Liz took another bite, her brunch almost done, and then jumped slightly in her chair in the way that Max knew meant she was remembering something important that had almost been forgotten. "Oh, we have to feed the jukebox before we go." She started looking for some change.
"Um, forgive me for asking but... why? It's just a jukebox and I don't need to hear any music."
"It's good luck," she told him with a straight face. "My friends and I always feed the jukebox here before exams. And if we're going to find that space pod of yours, Max, we're gonna need all the good luck we can get." She got up and headed for the machine with the spinning CD's, only a table away. "You pick: seven thirty-four, one fifteen, two sixty-five, or four fifty-nine."
"Uh... what songs are they?" Max asked.
"Not gonna tell you," Liz teased him. "Just pick."
"Uhhh... two six five."
"Ooohh," Liz whispered. "And he picks the sad song."
"Wait," Max started, but it was too late. Liz had already dropped the quarter in and was pushing buttons.
* * * * *
"Max." She reached out to brush his dark hair away from his forehead, but it fell back the moment her hand moved on.
"Tess, baby," Max whispered, propping himself to take a better look at her. "I love you, I need you..."
"I'd die without you," Tess whispered back, and then realized that something had changed. Max wasn't in bed next to her, or in the room at all. It had all been a dream.
Tess sighed. The clock in the room read 11:42. Time to be getting up, she supposed.
Among the benefits of mastering molecular transformation was getting cleaned and dressed more quickly. It was a momentary thing for Tess to convert the minute traces of sweat, dust, dirt, and grime about her body to odorless gases and let them drift away.
Then she took an old dress she didn't like any more and converted it into a new outfit, as good as laundry-fresh and pressed. Today, Tess decided on a simple blue shirt with a v-neck and a black skirt with a modestly short hem. Simple, fresh, innocent, but sexy. After a second's thought she pulled her short blonde hair into a small ponytail, slipped her feet into sandals, and left the bedroom.
The rest of the apartment seemed pretty much deserted, except that there was obviously someone in the shower. Kitchen had been well stocked sometime since last night, so Tess mixed up a bowl of instant oatmeal (with plenty of sugar and a little hot pepper sauce for zing,) and heated it up with the wave of a hand.
The water flow in the bathroom shut off, and about four spoonfuls later someone emerged - Isabel, wearing only a shirt that went down to about miniskirt length. Tess nodded calmly at the other alien girl. Since she could transform her clothes as easily as Tess could, presumably Isabel either couldn't be bothered, or was making the fashion statement she wanted to. Then again, Tess couldn't really understand why her sister-in-law insisted on hot showers when using her powers to clean herself would be so much more convenient.
"Nice outfit, Tess," Isabel commented, grabbing a bottle of orange juice from the refrigerator and drinking straight from it. "Very 'America's Sweetheart.'"
"Uh, thanks," Tess replied. "I just figured, while in college-town, dress as the colleens do."
Isabel snorted. "Have you seen the chicks that go to this school? None of them dress like that... well, maybe one of them." Isabel almost winked at Tess, but not quite.
"Uhh... whatever," Tess decided. "By the way, what was with that whole scene with Liz early this morning?"
"I was in a mood," Isabel explained, "and Michael was just in high spirits. What's the big, anyway? You used to pick on her more than anybody!"
Tess flushed with embarrassment. "I was young back then. C'mon, Is, just cut her a break, okay? For me, and for Max. She didn't ask to be dragged back into this, and the past is the past." Tess smiled what was hopefully a persuasive smile.
Isabel shrugged absently. "Your call. Well, I better go check on my dear mate. See ya, sister."
"Oh, wait," Tess said before Isabel could leave the room. "Do you know where Max is?"
Isabel stifled a nasty giggle. "Well, from what Michael told me... he went out to brunch. With Parker." That giggle finally escaped as Isabel made her exit.
Tess sighed to herself, alone again. "Uncle Morph, you never warned me it would be like this," she whispered to herself, and the memories came coursing back.
May of 1999. At fifteen, (in terms of her human appearance, that is,) she had cried all the way from school to their apartment and collapsed on the couch in a pile of tears.
He found her there not ten minutes later. Normally, his job at the Army as Ed Harding being what it was, he wouldn't have come home for more than an hour. Later Tess would learn that he had known she was upset, all the way across town, and come to her as quickly as he could.
"What's wrong?" A human parent, or substitute parent, might have wrapped his arms around her, but Uncle Morph never showed her that kind of affection - not unless they were in public. But after seven years, the sound of his voice, of any of his voices, was comfort enough that Tess stopped crying and looked up at him.
"Oh, uncle Morph..." He was uncle Morph only in private too, the combination of a roughly appropriate relational term and the name of a comic-book character who shared his most obvious characteristic. When other people were around, of course, Tess called Ed Harding 'Daddy', but he had been firm that he wasn't really her father. "You wouldn't want to hear about it," she explained, wiping a tear from her human cheek.
"Try me," Morph said softly, looking into her eyes."
"It's about a boy," Tess warned, and giggled as Morph's Ed Harding face screwed up in distaste. But having confessed that much, the rest came spurting out of her. "I asked Bobby Seaver to the spring dance, he's really cute and even though he's dated Karen London a few times, they're not going steady or anything and I'm a lot prettier than Karen is."
Morph nodded thoughtfully. "And?" he prompted, not guessing what was about to come next.
"He turned me down." Tess took a deep breath before confessing the truly heartbreaking part. "He called me a space case and said he wouldn't date me if I was the last girl in school."
"Oh." Morph shook his head regretfully. "'Space Case'... this is supposed to be some kind of an insult?"
"Oh, Morph," she chided him. "A space case is someone who doesn't understand the others, who doesn't fit in." She took a deep, sob-laden breath. "I've tried, I really tried! It's not my fault that I'm diff..."
"Now, you stop right there," Morph interrupted her, his eyes steady on Tess's. Impulsively he reached out and grabbed her hand, an unheard of intimacy between them. "Yes, you are different. But I never want to hear you apologizing for it. You are a star child, Teresa, which means that you are more special, more precious, and more important than..." It took him a moment to recall the names. "Bobby Seaver and Karen London could ever dream of being."
"Hmmm..." Tess said, somewhat mollified. "But what good is it being so special when I'm all alone. Well, not *all* alone," she qualified, with a shy smile at her shapechanging uncle. "I have you, I know. But it's just not the same."
"It won't always be this way, baby," Morph encouraged her. "Soon, I'm going to take you away to a place called Roswell, to be with other star children like you. As soon as I can bring the four of you together safely. Their names are Michael and Isabel and Maxwell, and where you belong is with them. And Max is going to fall completely in love with you and make you happier than Karen London could ever imagine."
Now this was knew. Morph had mentioned 'going to Roswell' before, but never mentioned this many details before. As nice a story as it was, Tess had to giggle. "How can you possibly know that, Uncle Morph?"
"Because I know that it's meant to be true love between you and Max, and Michael and Isabel."
"I don't believe you," Tess said. "But thanks anyways, for helping me forget about Bobby. I love you, uncle."
* * * * *
Clunk. The quarter Liz had supplied dropped down quietly into the Jukebox's change bin, and Liz smiled to herself for a second in bittersweet anticipation of the song that was about to start, before flashing a glance over towards Max. She was so glad that he had come with her, it was almost like old times between them. A slight hiss emerged from the speakers as the blank space on the track before the instrumentals came in began to play.
Liz moved back to their table, her pace in the rhythm as the song began with a haunting guitar riff, and then settled down into a regular beat. Against the tensely energetic beat, a singer with a smoky baritone began to sing.
('I hear you just got married,
Took a month-long honeymoon.
And you were all smiles at the wedding.
You cried when you kissed the groom.')
"Well," Liz teased Max, "we have to stick around while the song's playing. Can I have this dance?" Oh, heaven, to be in his arms again, even if only for one song.
('I got no invitation.
I guess the mailman din' bring it to me.')
"I..." Max's face lit up for a tiny fraction of a second, then was replaced by a dull frown. "I don't think that would be a good idea, Liz."
('But I see the whole thing, in slow motion,
Every night, as I try to sleep.')
"Oh," Liz said, trying to hide her own disappointment. Desperately trying again, she waved towards the green-topper table in the corner. "Game of pool? Bet I can still whip your ass."
('My buddy John said you looked real pretty,
And you acted like you were in love.')
Max sighed. "Bring it on, geometry girl." Grinning competitively, he slid away from the table and headed off to find a cue.
('He said the preacher asked for objections,
An' he thought about standin' up.')
Liz smiled at her minor victory, got a shorter cue, and gestured to Max that he go ahead and take the break.
('I tol' John, he musta been crazy,
'Cause you were justa bout ta say 'I do.'
An' he jus' gave me a wink,
An' said all he could think,
Was it coulda been me with you.')
Max managed to sink one ball of the break, the fifteen, but his next target rebounded just out of reach of the corner pocket, and Liz grinned as she went up to the table to take her turn.
('It could have been me, standin' there with you,
It could have been me, and my dreams coming true.
But those dreams move on, if you wait too long.
It took me 'til now to see: it could have been me.')
Liz, having successfully made three shots in a row, including an impressive double bank, flubbed one on purpose just to give Max a chance to catch up. (And give herself another chance to see Max bending over the pool table in those tight jeans. Hoo mama!)
('I don't guess I ever told you,
That I went out and bought you a ring.')
Max gamely took aim and sent the cue ball rolling across the table. It collided with his target at completely the wrong angle, but managed to send a different striped ball into the side pocket. He lined up for another shot, but Liz stopped him. "That's not the ball you called."
('I'd even carried it around in my pocket,
Waiting to say the right thing.')
"I didn't call *any* ball," Max disagreed, and Liz realized he was right.
"From now on we call it," she warned him. "That shot was fluke luck and you know it."
('I pulled it out the other day,
But the diamond had lost its shine.')
Max nodded slightly and lined up for his next shot. Teasingly, Liz came up from behind and stood next to him, so that her thigh was pressing against his through two layers of denim.
('Well, I know how it feels,
'Cause my eyes grow dim,
When I think,
That you could have been mine.')
The touch was electric... well no, not quite electric, but electrifying nonetheless. To feel the warmth of Max's body so close to her made Liz choke back a gasp as waves of desire ran through her. Surely Max would flub this shot more badly than the last... but he nailed a single bank instead!
So, as the music flowed back into the chorus, Liz tried the same trick again with a twist - forcing herself to break the contact just as Max was about to shoot.
('It could have been me,
Standin' there with you,')
Max's cue ball spiraled right into the corner pocket and he turned to glare at Liz. "Scratch," she told him with her best facade of innocence, and went to fetch the cue ball.
('It could have been me,
And my dreams coming true.')
After sinking the seven ball in the side pocket, Liz sang along with the line whose haunting melody had begun the intro, possibly the most compelling line in the whole song from a melodic standpoint:
"But those dreams move on, if you wait too long..."
Liz looked up at Max, who seemed to be far away for a second. So she called the five ball in the corner pocket and took her shot.
('It took me 'til now to see,
It could've been me...')
Things were getting trickier now. Liz had only two of her 'solid' balls left on the table, compared to four of Max's stripes and the menacing eight ball. It was a good position overall for Liz, since she was closer to winning, but it also meant her shots were getting more and more difficult. She made a try at the six ball and didn't get it quite in. As the instrumental played, Max sank one of his own balls and then lost control of the cue to Liz again.
('I know... I called,
Just in time, to be too late...
You know dreams - move on,
when you wait too long.')
Max sneaked up and tickled the back of Liz's neck, resulting in a shot that barely moved the cue ball an inch.
('It took me 'til now to see...
That it could've been me!
Standing there with you...')
"Oh, is that how you wanna play it, Maxwell Evans?" Liz asked him. "Then go ahead - take your shot." She nodded challengingly at him. Max gulped silently.
('It could have been me,
And my dreams coming true.')
But Max stood up to the table anyway, lining up his pool cue. Liz snuck up on his other side and kissed his earlobe, but Max didn't take his shot. Liz licked slightly at his ear, but when she realized that he was waiting to take his shot until she was done, she withdrew. Max chuckled with superiority... until he flubbed the shot anyway.
('But those dreams move on,
If you wait too long.')
Liz lined up a shot of her own, wondering what Max would do this time. The answer was quickly revealed when he fluffed her hair back and started running his lips and tongue across her throat and neck. Liz wanted nothing more than to drown herself in that sensation. Instead she fired off the shot, waited until she had seen the ball drop into the pocket, and then dived onto Max, nuzzling the short brown hair at his temple while going for the ticklish spots under his ribs with her hands. Max looked up at her in surprise, and suddenly, their mouths were separated by less than an inch of space.
('It took me 'til now to see...')
This is it, Liz thought. The final moment of decision. But the decision had already been made by the time she got that far. As if drawn in by a common force, her lips met his in an explosion of feeling. Then, after a few seconds, Max pulled away.
"What was that?" he whispered. Whether because the answer was obvious or unknown, neither of them answered. By some unspoken cue they both stood up and straightened themselves out.
"The song is over," Max pointed out. "And it's getting late, so we should be heading back to the apartment. I guess you win again, Liz."
"Okay," Liz repeated somewhat hollowly, pushing balls down into the pockets with her bare hands. "Thanks... um, for an interesting game."
"A little *too* interesting," Max muttered. "But at least your good luck seems to be working, Liz." They picked up from the table where they had eaten and started back across the campus in a dead, uncomfortable silence. "Liz?" Max said softly as they rounded a building.
"I'm sorry, Max," Liz blurted out. "I didn't mean for things to get out of hand like that, and I was probably the one who started it..."
"Sshh," Max silenced her. Without a word he pointed at a man standing about forty feet away, and then whirled her back around the corner, out of his sight. "Did you see him?" he asked urgently.
"Uh, yeah," Liz answered. "What's going..."
"Let's go for a 'run'," Max suggested with a quiet urgency in his voice. "That way." He pointed back away from the Congreve tower.
"Why are we... Ma-"
"And *don't* say anything that might possibly be considered out of the ordinary," he continued, starting to hurry her along. "Or mention my name or those of my family."
Liz frowned, trying to think of what to say that wouldn't violate those restraints. "What-EVER, 'Jay.'"
* * * * *
"Okay, people!" Isabel called out, stepping out of the bathroom in her outfit for the day. "Party time is over, people... we need to get back to work." She scanned the area. Tess was sitting at the kitchen table, lost in thought until Isabel's calling had roused her. The allies had gathered in the living room, but... "What, are Max and Liz not back yet?"
"No," Tess reported. "What about Michael, is he around anywhere?"
Isabel smirked. "Oh, he's around. But he tried some of Liz's rum after all."
Tess blinked. "How bad is it? Why don't you kiss him sober."
Isabel laughed. "It's pretty strange, and I've tried kissing. No effect."
"What??" Tess's eyes narrowed. "What's so funny, Isabel? What are you not telling us??"
Michael walked up the hallway. His hair was flat against his head, his clothing a dull gray suit, and he was wearing glasses that he had presumably either found or made. "What Isabella is uncertain how to inform you of is the fact that the ethyl alcohol present in the aforementioned beverage seems to have had the opposite effect on my person than it had on Maxwell five years ago."
Tess' jaw dropped. "It's made you into a lawyer?"
Isabel let out a burst of giggles, and Michael stared coldly at both the alien women. "It has made me unusually sober," he clarified. "It is my hypothesis that alcohol magnifies many-fold the expectations or the hopes of the alien drinker. Maxamillian drank from Kyle's flask wanting to relax, to lose control. He expected to get stereotypically 'drunk' and he got very drunk. On the other hand I experimented wanting to remain in control, and as a result have become far more controlled than usual."
Tess was barely holding back hilarity at this point. Slowly, with measured movements, she rose from her chair, and stepped cautiously towards Michael, as if still suspicious that his austere behavior was the setup to some kind of joke. In a high-pitched, unnatural voice, Tess said "Meep, meep!" reached out, and squeezed Michael's nose quickly with her thumb and forefinger. He didn't react beyond a glower, and that, apparently, was the point where Tess could take no more and exploded into helpless laughter.
"Stop that, Tess," Isabel ordered calmly. "Well, Max and Liz should have been back by now. I'd like to try to make mental contact just in case there's anything wrong." She looked around. Tess shrugged. Michael seemed to be giving the proposition some weighty deliberation. The 'others,' as usual, seemed hesitant to volunteer an opinion unless specifically asked. Isabel focused on waiting for Michael's response.
The question of who was in charge in Max's absence had never been firmly settled on a blanket basis. Complicating the situation was the fact that although both Isabel and Tess outranked Michael in the nobility structure of their home world, on a military chain of command Rev had been second only to Xam. (Of course, neither Princess Vilandra nor Evani had been in the military, so...)
In the absence of any firm cue from Max, Isabel tended to think of herself on an equal level with Michael, which meant having him check on her decisions when Max wasn't available.
"It would seem... a prudent move," he said finally.
So Isabel closed her eyes and concentrated. With far less effort than she used to take, she could put herself into Max's mindscape... which apparently included rushing over the campus' fields. "So, you've realized you're late?" she asked sarcastically.
Her brother's reaction surprised her. "No!" he called to her. "You can't... can't stay here. Mustn't use your powers, any of you... especially telepathy. Get on the move, find us - physically. Bounty hunters... Kaffarrans."
Isabel frowned. "Max, I-"
"GO!!" he roared at her, and Isabel was daunted enough to cut the connection. She looked around at everyone, her alien family.
"Max... was really worried about something," she started uncertainly. "He said not to use our powers, especially telepathy. Do any of you have any clue what a Gavvarran is?"
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To be continued...