Hi everyone...
So Part 2 comes to a close with Julia and Luke no closer than Max and Liz were... and both still afraid to really tell the other what they want.
A clue. Someone is TOLD something in Part 2 Chapter 2. Id you can find that something, and think about what happened to Maria and Michael, you will have the answer.
I hope you don;t mind me skipping my fb tonight. I really want to get this posted this weekend, so...
A note about this chapter. The words I use actually DO translate to something close to Navajo labguage.
Red Shift
Part 3
Chapter 1
Part 3
Chapter 1
A light breeze blew across the desert, whipping up little clouds of dust where it swirled and eddied around the irregular contours of the rocky ground. The pale moon, a mere sliver of itself, did little to illuminate the surroundings, but any creature venturing forth into the desert night did so only because it had developed a good sense of night vision, or other awareness.
Any creature, that is, except the man on horseback who was following the contours of the terrain more as a means of concealment than any sense of purpose. As he crested yet another rise, he stopped his mount, allowing him to survey his surroundings. Things were starting to look more familiar to him now, although it was clear from the way that he moved that he had ridden this barren landscape from one end to the state to the other.
His eyes finally settled on a distant smudge of gray, an almost black smear, silhouetted against the near darkened night sky. A few small lights helped identify it as a town, but it was easily apparent what this smudge in the distance was. The man could remember a time when this very same town was filled with lights, laughter and even love. It had once been a town that knew how to enjoy itself. But that was before the aliens came.
Shaking his head, trying to push away the memories of a happier time, he urged his horse onward once more, and dropped below the ridge and into the welcome obscurity of the shadows. It did not do to expose yourself like that in any case, no matter how many fond memories you had of a place that was now nicknamed 'Hell'. He turned the steed to follow a new ridge and to angle himself around the distant smudge. There was no purpose or need for him to go to this place, anyway. Maybe one day, but not tonight.
He lifted his hands to his face, holding them a short gap away. One hand pressed a button on his watch, the clock face giving off a pale blue glow. He knew he had plenty of time before the sun would rise, but why take chances? Especially in this particular neck of the woods.
A sudden sound off to his left caused his entire body to shift in demeanor. When before, he was loose, laid back, almost calm, he now sat bolt upright, his mind alert and even tinged with a sense of urgency. His eyes scanned his surroundings, and spotting a small cleft between two large boulders, he urged his horse into the gap. He spotted the cause of the low buzz that was disturbing the night silence. An alien space ship, one of their fighters passed close, but it was evident that even in the poor hiding place, it did not see him.
They had found out from experience that the alien's infrared viewers could not see him unless he was standing totally exposed in the open. They could not differentiate between the heat given off from any large animal and that given off by background rocks. Standing against a rock wall, or between two boulders could render you totally invisible. They had worked that out in the early days, but they never took too many chances. On more than one occasion, he himself had been forced to lay down flat on the ground and hope for the best.
He waited until he was sure that this ship did not have a second accompanying it, flying tandem. They often did that, but the strange buzzing their ships produced easily warned them of their tricks. It had been decided long ago that these patrols were mostly to prevent easy movement rather than actively trying to catch anyone. The aliens felt very safe with their technology and their abilities. Once he was sure he was safe to come out, he continued on his journey, his early carefree manner reappearing. When he passed a set of strange, jagged peaks, he stopped for a moment to look at them. With a shake of his head and a lonely sigh, he continued his journey. Another crest to rise, and he knew that his destination was close by. His journey was nearly over, but not his mission. He released another sigh and wondered if he would ever see a day dawn that would not find him on one mission or another.
* * *
A short distance away from the lone traveler, a group of men were standing in a circle, around a pit in the ground which held a glowing fire. The fire provided them with warmth although the light was scant, hidden as it was in a pit. It did enough, however, to identify their features as Native Americans. Their voices were low and soft. Their speech was strangely guttural. The sudden howling of a distant lone coyote distracted their attention. A large heavy blanket was suddenly dragged from the side to cover the fire pit. Another native, much younger then than those talking, appeared from the shadows.
"Dineh do lin bi-chi-ol-dah," he used his rifle to point into the darkness.
"A-nah-ne-dzin?" one of the elders was staring into the gloom as though his night vision was perfect, even though he had been standing in the light. "Eh-do-dah-goh neh-hecho-da-ne?"
"Do-bay-hosen-e," he answered.
"Naz-pas di dineh," the older man waved at the darkness around him.
Figures appeared from nowhere to move in the direction that the first man pointed. They moved swiftly and silently. Some held rifles while others were carrying the traditional bow, with a quiver of arrows strapped to their side. The elders moved toward a rising hill, to stand atop a rock ledge from which they could see the approaching horseman without being seen themselves. It was better to be safe than sorry and there were many humans who spied for the aliens.
All fell silent and in the stillness of the night air, the man on horseback rode into the clearing, his mind perhaps still wandering.
"Ta Awai!" a voice called out.
The horseman stopped abruptly and peered into the gloom, trying to make out any shapes.
"Who-neh?" the voice barked again.
"It's me," the man called back to his unseen challengers. "Hash-kay-gi-na-tah."
"Huc-quo tehi, Hash-kay-gi-na-tah," the voice called to him.
The man slid off his horse in a slow, exaggerated style that showed he knew that he was being watched closely by many more men he could not see. Once clear of the horse, he stepped away with his arms held aloft.
"Welcome, my brother," an old man emerged from the shadows, approaching the man.
"River Dog," he met the man with an embrace. "Good to see you."
"And it is good to see you, Jim," River Dog smiled. "You are looking tired."
"Goes with the territory," ex Sherrif James Valenti shrugged.
"You are the most wanted man of the a-na-ih-la," River Dog indicated that Jim should join him by the fire pit. The blanket had been removed to reveal the glow again, once Jim had been identified as a friend and not an enemy. "And still you take these risks when others can do the job for you. I have many braves who would willingly act as your messengers. They might move faster, too."
"And just sit around the caves all day?" Jim shook his head. "I took that girl in, River Dog. I gave her a home, I treated her like a daughter. And how does she repay me? She killed my boy, River Dog. And the other's too. She killed them all. Max, Liz, Michael, Maria, Kyle, Isabel, Jesse. Hell, she even had a hand in Alex's death."
"It is not just your war, my friend," River Dog nodded. "There are many who will fight when the time comes, but few are they who will lead."
"How are those grand-kids of yours?" Jim deftly changed the topic of conversation.
"They grow every day," the old Native American shook his head. "They grow eager to take the test of manhood so that they might join the braves when the time comes to fight. As do all my people. For many, especially among the aged who can remember such times, it is as if the old days had never ended."
"I wish it weren't so," Jim shook his head, accepting a cold beer that someone had produced from somewhere.
It was the same thing. Every time Jim visited River Dog, there was always a cold beer offered to him. He wondered if someone had been sneaking across the border, but he knew how impossible that was. River Dog had once told him that he knew of a way in and out of New Mexico, and that he would let him know about it when the time came.
"No one deserves to live under these conditions, and it sickens me to think that my people once treated your people no better than this."
"Wisdom comes with age," River Dog shrugged. "The new comers have not yet learned that."
"Well," Jim took a big gulp. "Let's hope that they're not around long enough to learn different.
"That is so," the old man nodded. "Let us hope that together, we will find a way to defeat our enemies. But come. You have ridden far and my daughter will scold me for having you stand out here all night when there is a stew on the fire."
Together, the two men headed toward a collection of stone houses.
* * *
"The trouble with riding horses," Jim emerged from the bathroom in a deerskin robe, toweling his hair dry, "is that after a while, you start to smell like one."
"As long as you don't start behaving like one," Tanisha, River Dog's willowy daughter rolled her eyes. "Sit at the table, and no talking business until you've eaten."
"You're worse than my wife," he shook his head.
"And how is the new Mrs. Valenti," River Dog had a twinkle in his eye. "Is she pregnant yet?"
"Pregnant?" Jim sputtered, nearly choking on his food. "At our age?"
"Age is no barrier," River Dog started to chuckle. "Perhaps I should prepare for you a little potion."
"If she even knew I was having this conversation, I'd be a dead man."
"Well, that's even more reason for you to let the younger men do this work," Tanisha scolded. "Leaving her all alone while you go gallivanting."
"It's hardly a holiday," Jim shrugged his shoulders. "Besides, she's got her friends."
"They are your friends, too."
"Yeah," Jim nodded. "And I guess, when this is over... I'm going to need all the friends I can get."
"When this is all over," River Dog laid a hand on his arm, "you will be surprised just how many friends in the world you have.
* * *
Tanisha had banned all further talk until Jim had had a good night's sleep. Undisturbed, under Tanisha's watchful eye, it was nearly midmorning when Jim finally awoke. After another shower, he emerged to a bright and hot day. He found River Dog with the other elders sitting at a picnic table.
"So what do you have for me, Jim?" River Dog moved over to let Jim join them.
Jim reached into his saddle bag and pulled out a sheaf of hand-written messages, all of them in code.
"These need to get out right away," Jim told him as he handed them to his friend. I think something big is going on. We've noticed fewer ships in the skies right now, and my scouts tell me that there are six or seven locations in the desert around New Mexico where they are all parked up, just sitting there. Some groups are bigger than others. I can't be sure, but if you asked me, I would have to say that they're going to be used in some kind of assault. Except that we can't find any concentrations of ground troops. So unless they plan to just start running some hit and run air raids... Anyway, Clayton ought to be told in case they're planning to start attacking any military build ups outside the boundary."
"Perhaps," River Dog was nodding, "they plan to strike areas that are not as well protected. Maybe they plan to attack another part of the world."
Jim was deep in thought. No one spoke.
"Well, if it was me..." he considered, "and I knew about our dependency on oil... Heck, if I wanted to paralyze the armed forces, I would take out the Middle East oil fields."
"As would I," River Dog nodded.
Others nodded with him.
"But surely Tess knows about the Federal Reserves," Jim narrowed his eyes.
"But how long will they last if we have no more oil being supplied?" another elder added.
"There's more than the Middle East who produces oil," a third contributed. "Texas, the Gulf, which includes Mexico and Venezuela. And then there's Canada, and... North Sea oil, and South East Asia."
"Wait," another interrupted. "Doesn't Nigeria have oil, too? I count seven major oil producing areas."
"And you say you counted five or six groups of aircraft?" River Dog looked at Jim.
"Holy mother of...!" he exclaimed. "River Dog, them messages just got more urgent. Can you write another one warning that we think they're planning a strike against all the oil producing regions? Can you also send runners out? We need to keep a close eye on those ships and let Clayton know just as soon as they leave."
Jim started to think again.
"The trouble is, how can we get a message across hundreds of miles of desert in time? By the time we get the message out, those ships will probably be parked back at base."
"Leave that to me, my friend," River Dog nodded. "It is time for you to return to your wife. And give our blessings to the rest of our friends and know that we pray to our ancestors for the day we may all feast together."
"Amen, River Dog," Jim started to rise. "You tell your braves to be careful."
"I will," the Dog confirmed. "Do not worry about the message. Clayton will have it in her hands before the sun has reached its highest point."
* * *
The eleven men, hot and dusty, wearing desert camouflage moved along the edges of the boundary between alien controlled New Mexico, and US controlled Texas in a loose, alert formation. Platoons of soldiers had been regularly sweeping the boundary, now marked with large red flags, for so long now, they knew almost every bump, ridge and crevice. Each flag they passed, at one hundred yard intervals, they checked a small set of devices the checked for motion. No one would me able to sneak in, or out of the occupied zone without triggering any number of detection devices.
"Damn, it's hot," one soldier stopped to remove his kevlar helmet and wipe the moisture from his brow.
"Quit your whining," another smirked at him. "It was hotter in the Gulf. Plus we don't have extremists trying to blow us up."
"No," the first man grumbled. "We got aliens instead."
"At least they ain't taking pot shots at us. I'd rather be here than there any day."
"That's for sure," a third joined them, taking a swig of water from a tin container that had been on his hip."
"Shut up!" the man near the front called back to them. "Keep your mouths shut and your eyes and minds on the job."
A sudden coyote howling from the alien side caused all of the men to react at once. Eleven men took cover, either lying flat on the ground, or behind any kind of raise terrain that afforded any protection. Eleven M16 rifles pointed toward the alien zone.
"That wasn't no coyote," someone's voice drifted from their silence.
"No shit," another answered.
A strange hissing sound filled the air, followed by a click. An arrow decorated with colored feathers was sticking up from a soft part of the ground.
"What the hell?" the nearest soldier yelped.
"Fucking unbelievable," someone shouted from their cover. "Who do they think we are? General fucking Custer?"
Another arrow hissed in the air, landing close to the first.
"Anyone see him?" a voice demanded.
"Since when do the Indians fight for the aliens anyway?"
"They're Native Americans, smartass."
"Shut up," the man in charge bellowed.
Another arrow flew through the air to land close to its' brothers.
"Over there," someone pointed. "I think he's behind that boulder."
A number of guns zeroed in on the boulder, the clicks of safety catches being removed echoed across the floor.
"Hold your fire," the leader was sounding exasperated. "There are messages attached to those arrows.
Everyone turned to look at the arrows, just as a fourth landed in the middle of the three. They could all see something attached to the shaft, near the tip.
There were six arrows in total. When it became clear that no more would be coming, the soldiers collected them and pulled off the notes. Every one of them tried to read what was written.
"What kind of language is that anyway?" someone shook his head and passed his message on to someone else.
"Probably code," another answered. "Do you really think whoever sent them wants dumb asses like you reading top secret information?"
"Come on," the platoon leader gathered up the notes. "We'd better get these back to HQ."
"Amen to that," someone chuckled. "Anything that gets us out of this heat and into an air conditioned bar is fine by me. There's a cold beer with my name on it back at base."
* * *
"Gentlemen," the President greeted her committee as she entered the large, underground stateroom.
"Madam President," they all rose, waiting for her to sit down before they took their seats again.
"As you know, this is an emergency meeting, so I think we'll move straight to business, if you don't mind," she was seated now, pulling out the latest messages from a manila folder. "Have you all read these latest messages from Jim Valenti?"
Everyone nodded, each one looking again at their own copies of the decoded messages.
"So Jim believes that aliens may be planning a major strike on the oil producing regions of the world. What do you military men think?" She looked in particular at the Secretary of Defense, Avi Bernstein, Fleet Admiral Anthony Bellview, the General of the Army, Edgar T Wallace II and the General of the Air Force, Arthur Hollis.
"How old is this message?" General Wallace looked from the handwritten annotations he had his tactical experts make.
"We received it from New Mexico a little after fifteen hundred hours," President Clayton confirmed, glancing at her watch. "You all received the decoded copies one hour ago, one hour after the patrol received them earlier."
"It makes perfect sense to me," the general continued. "They don't rely on oil and we do. If I had the resources to cripple their fuel supply, then I would do it. We'd better suggest to all the oil producers to place SAM batteries around their wells and refineries."
"Do we have any spare?" Paul Anstolini, the Secretary of the Interior asked.
"None," the Secretary of State, Johnathan Teague shook his head. And any we did have are already on their way to our own wells."
"I've already ordered the Atlantic fleet to the gulf," Admiral Bellview added. "We can use our anti-aircraft capabilities to protect the offshore wells. Ours as well and Mexico's and Venezuela's."
"I think we need to pass this message on to the rest of the world," Clayton nodded at the men's responses.
"I'm on it," Vice President Leroy Brown spoke over the speakerphone. "I'll make a call to the UN, and address the house as soon as can be arranged."
The door burst open and a smartly uniformed military policeman entered the room. He marched to the President ands saluted.
"Ma'am," he held out a folded sheet of paper. "This just came in for you. And I have to tell you that you have urgent calls waiting for you from the Ambassadors of Saudi Arabia, Iran, Jordan... heck, every country in the Middle East."
Hillary Clayton's face went white. The room fell deathly silent. The president took the note and read it twice before she folded it back up and handed it to Terrence Maynard, the Speaker of the House of Representatives.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," her voice was hushed. "The Directorate of the CIA has just advised me that two hours ago, the whole of the middle east was subjected to an alien invasion. It looks as though they have been as successful there as they had been in New Mexico, achieving complete surprise, and now appear to be in total control of the region. I have also been informed that oil fields around the globe are currently under aerial attack. There's not a single oilwell that's not burning out of control."
"Dammit!" the general pounded his fist on the table. "What was that Valenti playing at? Why couldn't he have warned us sooner?"
"I'm sure he got that message out as soon as he could," Monica Tate, the Secretary of the Treasury stared at the distant wall. "How was he supposed to know they would attack this soon? And how would he know what they would attack. He probably only made a guess. And it's not like he can pick up a telephone."
Hillary Clayton sat back and listened as her committee discussed the latest news, all at once, without listening to anyone else.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," she called for order. "I'm afraid that this changes things."
She paused, waiting until she had everyone's attention.
"I really don't think I have an alternative to this." She released a heavy sigh and climbed to her feet. "As duly elected President of the United States of America and in accordance with Title 10, US Code 331, I hereby declare that as of," she glanced at her watch, "Seventeen forty five, EST, on the third day of June, 2008, a state of Martial Law exists within our country."
The silence in the room was oppressive. No one said a word.
"Ladies, gentlemen," she nodded to them. "I'm sure you know what to do."
After another moment of silence, everyone started to move. They gathered their notes, rose from their seats and still in silence, made their way to the door.
Hillary Clayton watched them leave. When she was alone, she gave a heavy sigh and wiped away a tear that had threatened to show her for a weak fool in front of her committee. She reached for the phone. Why did she ever enter politics in the first place? This country needed a leader like Winston Churchill at a time like this. Not a woman who came to office with good intentions of turning the US down a more 'friendly' path. She whispered a swift prayer that God would send her someone. Like Bonnie Tyler once sang, she was holding out for a hero.
"Get me the Secretary General of the UN," she spoke softly.
* * *
In a cool, and damp office, deep in the bowels of the old UFO museum in the heart of Roswell, the undisputed Alien Capital of the world now, Nikolas sat in front of a three dimensional holographic image of a series of data elements. His fingers reached into the image, twisted and pulled at the elements which caused them to change. He was studying them, like a human would read a newspaper article.
The door behind him opened, admitting a blast of warm, dry air, as well as a blonde young woman. When the door hissed closed behind her, an ultra fine mist of water sprayed the room, cooling the new air.
"Do you even know what that spray does to my hair?" Tess shook her head.
"Probably not as bad as what the dry air does to my HUSK," Nikolas rolled his eyes.
"Why on earth did you form your HUSK into the shape of an adolescent teenager, anyway?" Tess ran her hand across his back.
"Back on Antar," he looked over his shoulder at her, "I learned that adults talk about things around kids that they wouldn't talk about around adults. So I figured that if I looked like a kid, I could learn things that might have otherwise remained secret from me. But I still needed to be old enough for when I found you..."
"But you still look... while I..."
"Don't worry," he smiled. "When we get back to Antar, you know we hardly age at all, and I'll have my own form back... We'll look the right age for each other."
He pulled her onto his lap, his hand guiding her face to his. They shared a deep kiss.
"So how's it going?" Tess nodded at the image in front of them.
"Complete success," Nikolas shrugged. "Traydn has achieved all of his objectives with his attack on the Middle East. He has seized eighty-five percent of all oil producing capability there. Anything else, as well as all known oil fields in the whole world have been destroyed. Texas, Canada, North Sea, Asia, Nigeria... Thanks to your intel. Without oil, they won't be able to use their mechanized force to attack us. Or resist us if we decide to strike first."
"You are aware of the Federal Oil reserve, right?" Tess gave him a smile.
"Yeah," he nodded. "What do you think Whittaker was up to? Her mission was to work her way into the political arena to locate where these reserves are stored. She failed."
"But the reserves are estimated to last only a year," Tess pointed out. "And that's normal, everyday use. If either one of us launched an offensive, I doubt it would last that long."
"Probably not," Nikolas conceded. "But whatever, the rest of the world will have problems of their own now, and no one will send any assistance to the U.S. when they believe they themselves might be subjected to an invasion."
"Did Traydn meet much resistance?"
"Resistance?" Nikolas snorted. "We met more resistance here in Roswell then Trayden did in the whole of the Middle East."
"Well, he did achieve total surprise," Tess pointed out.
"And we would have too, if you hadn't have used so much explosive that sent Zan to hospital. If those soldiers hadn't been out in the streets..."
"I'm no expert," Tess rolled her eyes. "I told you that you should have let me do it my way. How was I to know that Zan would try to shield her and not himself? She wasn't Parker."
"Talking of Zan," Nikolas eased her from his lap. He stood up beside her. "Have you managed to find anything out yet?"
"No," she shook her head. "I tapped into their internet and have been searching for any strange reports that might have anything to do with four orphans turning up out of the blue. But these were the days right after our invasion. There was a lot a craziness going on. Nearest I could find was a report of some militia men finding three kids washed up on a beach in North Carolina. But that turned out to be some survivors from a private jet that got shot down thinking it was one of our ships."
"He's out there," Nikolas stared at the laminated map of the USA that hung on the wall. "I can feel him." He turned to face Tess. "He and I have unfinished business."
"Unfinished?" Tess laughed. "You killed him yourself once, you heard how he blew himself up a second time. What else is there?"
"I want to obliterate him," Nikolas growled. "I want to wipe him from existence. I want to rid the universe of him."
"And to think," Tess laughed, "that back on Antar, he really admired you. It really bugs you that you were never able to defeat him, doesn't it. That it took a double cross from Kivar to finally defeat him, and even then, he was one step ahead."
"He got lucky," he spat. "But his luck ran out years ago. Now he's just a weak kid."
"We hope," Tess reminded him. "What if he's like, in his thirties or something? What if those pods hatched decades ago, and he's already been through some top military academy? Maybe he's one of the generals who are right now, planning the invasion of New Antar."
"Bring it on," Nikolas gave an evil smile. "It's time we ended this dance, Zan and me."
* * *
Thousands of light years away, on a distant planet in the heart of the same Galaxy that was now tattooed to the small of Julia's back, and to Luke's arm, Lady Dalena moved through the cool halls of the large palace. The palace was located deep within the ice kingdom of Kalacia, situated at the planet's southern pole. Although secretly, this had been one of the many areas that had remained staunchly loyal to the house of Deryn during the war, even as it had remained loyal to Zan after Deryn's execution. Like the other locations, they all waited patiently for the day that Zan's promised return would dawn.
Kivar always suspected that loyalty, but as there were few troops trained in the art of warfare in the frozen tundra, he left them alone. The Kalacians were formidable warriors, but only in the snow. Outside of their own kingdom, they were next to useless and besides, they were few in number. They scarcely constituted a threat. Allowing Dalena to hide herself in such a distant, isolated location did more to remove her as a political threat than any form of imprisonment.
But Kivar did not know that making Kalacia her base gave Dalena two advantages. One was the fact that in the subterranean caverns below the main palace was a state of the art training base. Capable of housing large numbers, people loyal to Zan would come here for training and then return to their homes where they would pretend to be loyal subjects working hard for Antar and Kivar's supremacy. All across Antar, small cells of highly trained warriors waited for the coded message that would tell them of Zan's return. That would be the signal to start their resistance. For all the cells that would spring forth, what the forces loyal to Zan lacked was a large army, a place to gather and train, and a platform from which to launch their assault when the time came. But big things grew from small seeds.
The second advantage was that Kivar detested the cold and did not come to visit. Instead, he would call her on the comms units. Given the choice, Dalena would have preferred that Kivar had no contact with her at all, but she was not that lucky. At his summons, Dalena entered the communications room and studied the holographic image of Kivar as he appeared in front of her. She pressed the button that would cause her own image to appear in front of him.
"Good day, Kivar," her voice was as cold as the outside temperature. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"
"It's just a courtesy call, that's all," his voice had sibilant quality to it. "I'm just concerned for your well being, Dalena. Down in that frozen waste."
"I thank you for your concern," she nodded at his holographic image stiffly. "But I happen to like it down here. Did you know that there are no reptiles in Kalacia? I don't like reptiles, I'm afraid."
"Yes," he nodded. "You have told me that on any number of occasions. If you return, I can see to it that every reptile is removed from the immediate vicinity of the palace. It seems such a lonely place without you."
"There will always be at least one reptile who would manage to escape your vigilance," she shrugged. "And as you never lived in the palace when I was there, how would you know if it would feel any less lonely were I there now? Besides, what would people say?"
"I don't intend to take you as a mistress, my dear lady. It's your hand in marriage I want."
"But you forget, Kivar," Dalena widened her eyes. She knew he had been hoping to marry her for a long time now. Not because he thought her a beauty, or because he was in love with her. Kivar wanted to try and remove the division that after all this time still threatened his rule. He wanted nothing more than to announce the union of their two houses, and the two factions. "I am already married."
"But your husband died years ago," Kivar pointed out in a soft voice. "Decades ago."
"And at your hands, as I recall," Dalena pointed out.
"It was purely political," Kivar shrugged. "It was not motivated by any personal feelings. Surely you can see that."
"In the same way that you can surely see that I will not dishonor my husband's memory or our vows by marrying the man who ordered his... execution."
"He was tried in a court of law, my Lady," his voice wheedled in such a way that made Dalena's skin crawl. "I had no part of that."
"And you claim to rule this planet?" she widened her eyes. "You could have showed leniency. You could have commuted the sentence to some banishment, like down here, or maybe even to another planet. Instead, you let him die. In the same way that you... let my children die. For that alone, Kivar, I can never forgive you. I was there when you promised them they would go unharmed. So please refrain from telling me that this was purely political. They died at your hands out of spite and vengeance. So please do not ask me to marry you again."
She closed the comms link and fought back the tears that threatened to flow. Every time she spoke to Kivar, something would remind her of her children's murders, of her husband's sacrifice. And every time, she would make the same accusation, and then worry afterwards that perhaps, this time, she had pushed him too far. Fighting back her tears, she ran all the way to the safety of her own suite.
"My Lady?" a man spoke at the door, opening it slightly but not coming in. Everyone knew the state Dalena was in after talking with Kivar. The man gave her a moment to compose herself.
"Ah, Count Heldin," he turned to the door. "Please, come in."
Count Heldin was older by perhaps ten years but still looked in remarkable shape for a man his age. He had been one of Deryn's best friends, and most trusted advisors.
"I can't thank you enough for letting me stay here while we wait," she smiled warmly at him. "And for allowing us to use your lands as our base."
"I am but one of many patriots, My Lady," he bowed. "I am not the only one on this planet who hides soldiers from Kivar. Yet I feel blessed that it is I who can boast of your presence."
"You old scoundrel," she grinned. "I can imagine what other boasts you make."
"My Lady!" he gasped his objection, but Dalena couldn't help notice his blushes.
"I'm just teasing you, Heldin," she smiled. "But come, we are old friends, are we not?"
"From happier days, My Lady," he nodded. "And I hope that I live to see the return of those happier times."
"Then when will you start calling me Dalena, as I have asked countless times over these long years?"
"When King Zan gives me permission," he gave her a soft smile.
"Did you just want to chat, Heldin," Dalena indicated the sofa. "Or was there something else?"
"I have two visitors for you," he smiled at her. "The first you had better see at once. He looks to have been travelling hard and I fear for his health. He refuses any treatment until he speaks with you."
"Then you had better show him in," she nodded to the door.
Count Heldin crossed the room, spoke to someone outside, and seconds later a disheveled young man entered, alone. It was as the Count had feared. He looked dreadful.
"My Lady," he gasped. "I bring news."
Her heart started to pound. She now knew that this was one of the team that had remained hidden on the island from which Zan had laid his plans. This team's sole purpose was to monitor the heavens for a signal from Earth. For decades, they had heard nothing. A few years ago, they received word that Zan was alive and well when the beacons had been activated, but since then, nothing.
"The first set of the Royal four have been betrayed," he managed to splutter. "And the second set have been born. My lady, the clock is ticking. We can expect Zan's return imminently."
"How long ago did this happen?" Dalena demanded.
"Our calculations show that the real Zan was reborn a year and a half ago. We just got the transmission."
"Surely a transmission from the Granolith would take seconds. As soon as Zan was born, he would have notified me."
"The transmission wasn't from Zan or from the Granolith," he shook his head. "It was from the sole remaining protector. Apparently things did not go quite to plan... and Zan miscalculated the effect that the human DNA would have on them. Although he is Zan, My Lady," he swallowed. "He is also not Zan."
"Will he return?" her face went white.
"Yes," he nodded. "The protector said that even though he is different, he is also the same. He is bound by honor and he will return, even if the protector has to drag him kicking and screaming."
Once he had departed, complete with Dalena's orders to seek medical attention, food and rest, in that order, Count Heldin returned the room.
"I have another visitor for you," he seemed nervous about this one.
"Is it..." she looked worried. "No, it can't be. Not unless he's playing games with me."
"No, my lady," he shook his head. "It's not Kivar. It's... it's Senator Larek. And I have taken the liberty of having him placed in the Sun Room."
* * *
"Hello, Larek," Dalena breezed into the Sun Room, so called because the glass windows magnified the weak light of the sun, and turned the room in to a bright, warm haven. "It has been too long since I have seen you, my old friend."
"I have been busy," he gave her a smile of apology and embraced her. "How have you been?"
"Oh, you know," she shrugged. "It gets tedious down here with nothing to do except needlepoint, sewing, painting, drawing..."
"And training soldiers," he smiled.
"I have no idea what you are talking about," she frowned.
"Uh huh," his grin grew.
"Did you come to discuss something with me, Larek?" she recovered her composure. "Or hurl accusations against me?"
"Back before the civil war," he smiled away her protests. "Zan and I had started to build a good friendship. I really wish I had been privileged to have served as a Senator under him. He listened, he paid attention and he learned well, as he proved when he acted as General to one of Deryn's battalions. I believe he would have made an even better King."
"Thank you, Larek," she nodded. "Your words bring me great comfort even though it has been so long since his passing."
"I also believe that we might have been great friends. Many times he spoke to me of his plans. Of course, he was young then, and with his youth came impetuousness. He wanted to do so much, and so quickly. Left alone, he might have brought an even greater ruin to Antar. But I told him that he had to learn to walk before he could pilot a star cruiser."
Larek started to chuckle.
"Yes," Dalena smiled at his joke. "That sounds like Zan. Thought and deed were often one with him. I have missed him so terribly. And Vilondra, too."
"I'm sure you will be pleased when they return," he gave her a smile of sympathy.
"Yes," she nodded. Her face burned when she realized her mistake. "What do you mean? I mean..." she stammered. "Larek, they're dead. Everyone knows that."
"Just like everyone opposed to Kivar knows that Zan has promised to return," He spoke softly.
"Larek, I don't..."
"We are old friends, Dalena," he sat on one of the chairs. "I hid you from Kivar during the fighting. I am not, nor will I ever be a lackey of the viper."
The viper was what those opposed to Kivar called him in private.
"I met him, you know."
"Who, Kivar?" she frowned.
"No," he shook his head. "Zan. Rather, the Zan that was reborn. The one on Earth."
Dalena blinked for a moment, her desire to learn all about Zan overriding her desire to maintain the secret.
"When?" her voice was hoarse. "And when did you go to... where he is?"
"Oh, maybe... five, six years ago," he shrugged. "And I never went to Earth. I possessed a human male there and spoke through him. We all did."
"We?" she raised an eyebrow.
"Kathana, Sero, Hanar and myself," he nodded. "We took part in a summit. Kivar arranged it, although he would not risk a possession. He had Nikolas there representing him."
"I see," she nodded. "He doesn't want to risk a possession so he gets someone else to do it for him."
"No, you misunderstand," Larek shook his head. "Nikolas was there. In person."
"What?" he voice grew tight.
"I thought you knew," he narrowed his eyes. "Someone betrayed Zan and told Kivar about the plan. He sent Nikolas and a squad of soldiers after them. They were only a few weeks or so behind them."
"And Zan attended this summit? Was Vilondra there?"
"They all were," he nodded. "Although it was confusing."
"Confusing how?" Dalena cocked her head to one side.
"Neither Rath nor Vilondra were anything like I remembered of them. They seemed more... selfish. Self centered. And they were... uh... romantically linked."
"That doesn't sound like them at all," she shook her head. "What of Zan and Ava?"
"Ava was as I remember her. Clingy. She scarcely left Zan's side. As for Zan... he seemed different, yet the same. And I could sense this huge sadness within him."
"And what was the summit about?"
"What else?" Larek shrugged. "The Granolith. We discovered then that Kivar is not in possession of it, as he has been saying. And we were to help persuade Zan to surrender it to Kivar, to send it home. He promised us a cut in taxes if we managed to persuade him. Everyone was urging him to return, even Rath and Vilondra, and for a moment, I really thought he was going to do it. He seemed so... lost. So weak. But he seemed to reach inside himself and he suddenly grew this... inner strength. Maybe it was the girl, I don't know. But he refused, and the summit ended."
"What girl?" Dalena frowned again. "You mean Ava? She gave him some inner strength?"
"No," he shook his head. "I had occasion to meet Zan a couple of other times after that summit. It seems that the human I possessed knew Zan personally. Oh, Zan liked to be called Max, by the way."
"Oh," she shook her head, remembering the message about Zan not being quite Zan. "But what of the girl?"
"Every time I saw him, after the conference, he seemed to be with this human girl. A pretty little thing, and so intelligent for her race. And Max... Zan, I mean... he seemed to care for her a great deal. But he was always so sad around her. I would like to say that his sadness was because his affection was not returned, but it was. She seemed as attracted to him as he was to her. They both seemed so sad, though. Almost as though they really wanted to be... together, but were prevented from doing so."
"Because he is still married to Ava," Dalena pointed out bluntly. "They got married when they were deciding whether or not to accept Kivar's deal. And Zan is in love with Ava."
"Is that what you think?" Larek seemed surprised. "I never felt that Zan was in love with Ava. And in any case, from what I learned, Zan was reborn as a six year old boy. Why wouldn't he fall in love with another girl as he grew up?"
"But she's a human," she wrinkled her nose.
"And so is Zan," Larek shrugged. "Yes, he has Zan's soul, and his mind, but he has a human heart, and it beats loudest when this other girl is in the room."
"The sooner we get them home, the better," Dalena shook her head.
"Dalena, do you hear any news of what Kivar is up to?"
"Not really. Some reports of troop movements but he never seems to do anything with them."
"That's where you are wrong," Larek shook his head. "Kivar has already sent two invasion forces to Earth. The second one left a year and a half ago, its mission to destroy the regions that produce the fuel the Human's machines of war rely upon."
"And the first?"
"The first arrived on Earth just as the second left Antar. Their mission was to find and capture Zan and Granolith."
"Except they failed," Dalena nodded. "Or rather, they ended up killing Zan, right?"
"I had hoped to break the news to you a little more gently," Larek whispered. "I just heard the other day. As soon as I did, I possessed my human, and read his thoughts. They were all killed, I'm afraid. From what I could work out, Ava vanished some time ago. I'm assuming she died although my human does not know how. And he overheard someone close to the kids talking about how they were all killed out in the desert, during the invasion. I'm so very sorry."
He looked to Dalena expecting to see her break down. She was sitting deep in thought.
"When I first heard the rumor of Zan's promise to return," he continued. "I had hoped... But now..."
"Hold on to that hope," she urged him. "Zan had planned further ahead than that. He created two sets of clones, not one. The first were the decoys, to lure out the one, or ones betraying him. That seems to have been accomplished. From what you were saying earlier, my guess is that it was Rath and Vilondra. So now Zan has been reborn in the second set of Pods and is even now preparing for his return, with his young bride, Ava at his side. The once and future King and Queen of Antar."
"I look forward to the day," he nodded with a smile. "Tell me, Dalena. Out of friendship, a love for the same people, and a mutual desire to rid ourselves of a serpent, is there anything I can do to help?"
"There is," she nodded with a smile. "Indeed there is."
* * *
But you are right. They are rounded up and pointed in the right direction! 
That goes for anyone!
Guilty as charged. I actually need to borrow Julia for a little bit. So Luke can have her back as soon as I finished.