Roswell Fanatics

"Well you and Michael ought to be encouraging her. You two at least know that the ones you care for accept you."

"Yeah, well Michael does anyway. Liz - well in the dream-orb - or at least what there is of it - I'm her friend, her lover, her husband - but Liz doesn't think it's real. My worst fear is that I'll never be able to wake her up. My second worst fear is that she'll wake up and when I do cure her, she'll know that Iz and I really are aliens and that she won't want anything to do with me."

"You can't actually believe that?"

"Like I said, I'm doing all my planning on the assumption that everything is someday going to be OK - both with Liz's medical condition, and with how she feels about me - but in truth the only thing I know for sure about the two of us - if I ever get Liz out of her coma - is that we are going to have a hellaciously overdue dissection report in Mr. Alexander's third period AP biology."

"Alright you guys," said Isabel, dragging just about everything that wasn't actually bolted or welded to the Jeep with her, "...a little bit of help would be appreciated."

Max and Maria helped Izzy bring in the gear - flashlights and a cooler with drinks and sandwiches - and most of a case of bottled water. They ate the sandwiches and drank some of the soft drinks - the bottled water was stacked on top of the Snapple in the corner. As they ate, they talked.

"OK, explain to me what your plans are for Liz," said Maria.

"Well, from what the doctors have said about Liz - even Doctor Worthington - the neurons of her reticular activating system are dying. What I WANT is for her to just wake up enough so that I can heal the damaged neurons that aren't yet dead, but that hasn't happened so far. But even if it did, it sounds like Liz would still have considerable damage from the cells that are already dead.
I can't create life in those cells. I'm not even sure that I can stimulate Liz's own stem cells to grow replacements. That's a process that normally is directed by genes that are turned on only during embryonic development.

I could probably learn to guide them as they grow, but nerves grow so slowly - only about a millimeter a day on the average. If she is only conscious so I can connect with her for a few hours a day and those neurons have to grow 80 millimeters or so ... it may take a couple years for me to direct the neurons to the right parts to be able to restore her to how she was - assuming I can do it at all. That's what I hope will happen."

Maria smiled sadly. That was so sweet. So many guys weren't into anything but what hey could get from a girl. Here he was going to spend years of his life caring for Liz, with no real assurance she would care for him at all. But of course she would - just like she cared for her very own Spaceboy. Any fears Max had on that score were - she was quite certain - absolutely groundless. Sure, it had been a bit of a shock to find out that her own dreams were true - that Michael was at least part alien, but she couldn't help loving the big lug - just as Liz would no doubt be head over heels for Max.

"Can't you just make them grow quicker? Just sort of stretch them into the right areas?" Maria asked, ".... that way it wouldn't have to take years maybe..."

"No - that would be just more tearing of the membranes - the thing that damaged her original cells. They can only grow at the speed they were designed to grow at, and that's a millimeter a day. I'm hoping that during the hours I'm not connected with Liz, they just don't grow at all - rather than growing in the wrong direction. "

"So that's your plan? Spend years here repairing Liz? Where do the pods come in to this?"

"What we are here for is to buy time - to keep Liz alive longer because with me here with her Iz and I can dreamwalk her twice as often. And if she does wake up, I'll be here to cure the cells that aren't yet dead - which will buy time for guiding those neurons.

The pods themselves are only a backup plan - if the first one doesn't work - they could be used.

Earth's medical science is eventually going to solve Liz's problem. Doctor Worthington or people like her are going to find a way. The problem is that Liz might not be alive when that happens.

If I can find out how to make the stasis pods work again, I'd have a way to make sure that Liz survived until the technology is developed to heal her completely. If she can wake up enough to be healed - or at least stabilized, I'd like to give her the option. She can go into stasis until technology can heal her completely - I'll go with her if she'll let me. Otherwise..."

"Otherwise....?" asked Maria.

"Otherwise - if it becomes clear that she really isn't ever going to wake up - well, I am her husband. I'll put her in stasis - go in it with her if I can get two pods working - and depend upon you guys and Michael to come let us out of stasis once Earth technology is good enough to cure her."

"But Max, that could take decades," said Isabel, "... the whole world might be different - the people you know older... it would be almost like coming out of the pods the first time."

Max shrugged. "You do what you need to do for the ones you care about, Isabel."

Nope,thought Maria, ...whatever else you had to say about Max - and Michael too she was pretty sure - they didn't lack for commitment. When they loved someone, they had no intention of letting death itself stand in their way.

If she and Liz could have only gotten to know Michael and Max - what they were really like - before this stupid mess began. If she'd only called Michael and taken a dirtbike ride through the desert - maybe stopping somewhere for a little passion under the stars - Liz wouldn't have been driving home in the car on that fateful night. She'd have been safe at home in bed - maybe even with the warm snuggly company of Max Evans, for that matter. If only it could have been.....


One hundred fifty-two miles away in a car on 365 Eastbound:
Special Agent Jaime Sanchez was not a happy camper. He was the junior agent in the El Paso office - he had been there scarcely five months - and for this minor sin was now paying the price. He was partnered with senior Special Agent Bob Phillips.

That was a terrible price in anyone's book, but someone had to pay it. That's what Special Agent in Charge Donovan had told him when he'd notified him that he would be working with Phillips on a case over in Roswell. Jaime understood ... he WAS junior, and the last agent that had worked with Phillips ... well, they no longer trusted the man on the same firing range with Philips ... and not without good reason.

In fact, Jaime was one of a diminishing number of fellow agents who could be trusted - as of yet - on a range with an unholstered pistol around Bob - although Jaime thought it likely that status would change if Phillips continued to refer to all Hispanic people as 'beaners' very much longer. Phillips was sort of a flaming asshole.

Jaime had joined the FBI after graduating from UCLA. He had majored in law enforcement with a minor in computer science and joined the FBI following along family tradition. This was his first assignment out of training at Quantico and - being partnered with present company excepted - he generally enjoyed his work.

Bob Phillips, on the other hand, had graduated from an Ivy League college and gone straight to law school. He had applied to the FBI as a stepping stone to a life in national politics and by now - five years later - had apparently anticipated being assigned to the FBI headquarters in Washington DC and being well on his way to being the FBI Director. It was, Jaime thought bitterly, only one of many areas where Phillips lacked any insight whatsoever.

Although Jaime really liked his assignment to El Paso, Phillips seemed to despise the place. It was, he often repeated, flyover country - the middle of nowhere. Phillips thought that he had been sent there as punishment because he'd shown up an instructor back at Quantico. Jaime had his own idea about that. His guess was that Phillips had been as obnoxious to the assignments people as he was to practically everyone else and that some clerk had just looked at his preference list - where El Paso Texas had been next to the bottom - just above Juneau, Alaska, and assigned him to his least favorite location that had an opening for an agent.

But like him or not, Jaime was teamed with Phillips, and as he drove the vehicle East - toward Roswell - he also had no choice but to listen to his 'partner' in the passenger seat - whining away. Such was the life of the junior Special Agent in the office.

"I'm telling you, Jamey...," started Phillips.

"Jaime...., it's pronounced with an "H" sound. Like Hymie..."

"Well why don't you spell it that way then. I never will get used to the accents you beaners have. Anyway, I'm still telling you, that idiot Donovan was out to get me here. He knew it was my turn in the rotation for a case, and until I hollered and screamed - threatened to tell Headquarters he wasn't doing his job - he damn near didn't even send me on this. He claimed he wanted to give the local Sheriff some time to handle this..."

Jaime didn't doubt that Phillips had hollered and screamed - he was proficient enough at that - but doubted he'd been stupid enough to threaten the Special Agent in Charge. More likely Donovan had just gotten tired of hearing the man's whining and thought that getting him a hundred and sixty miles from the office would be a pleasant relief for everyone - everyone except for one Jaime Sanchez, that was. In fact Donovan had kind of apologized to him as he'd left the office - something about thanks for taking one for the team.

"A crummy ignorant local Sheriff..." Phillips continued. Jaime frowned. He'd only met Sheriff Valenti once, but he seemed a reasonable and knowledgeable law enforcement officer. Jaime didn't say anything though - truth was he was still pissed over that last 'beaner' comment and really didn't trust himself to speak to Phillips right now. Phillips had a way of doing that to you. So Jaime concentrated on his driving - not that it was required. The road was straight as an arrow and surrounded by West Texas desert.

"This local sheriff bozo actually said he thought he knew the kid who had done it and didn't really want to make a federal case out of it ... can you believe that?"

"Maybe it is that open and shut. Maybe he knows his local people and he CAN straighten it out without making it into a big deal."

"Damn it, Jamey - that's not the way to think. We WANT it to be a big deal - as big as possible. The people in DC, they watch these things - see how many cases we solve. We want our statistics to be the best in the office. We want to be the department's fair-haired boys."

Jaime looked at him doubtfully. He'd never been fair-haired. In fact no one in his family was fair-haired.

"I'm telling you Jamey..."

"Jaime," Sanchez corrected.

"Whatever... Anyway, that's how we will eventually get assignments out of this pisshole beaner office, Jamey, and get back to the East Coast. If it really is just some girl's boyfriend that took her, well hell, THAT ought to be easy to solve. We go there - make the collar - and we are back in El Paso in a few days, Hail the friggin' conquering heroes..."

Jaime just kept driving. If he opened his mouth he was going to say something he'd probably regret - or do something he just might not regret. It was going to be another three hours to Roswell New Mexico. He just hoped he could keep his temper that long.

"Well, in three hours we should be seeing this Valenti," said Phillips. "Imagine that - a wop out here in beaner country. Probably ex-Mafia, would be my guess...."

Jaime gritted his teeth and just kept driving.

They had stayed at the podchamber for only an hour or so. The drive back to a paved road had been more sedate this time - but still a somewhat harrowing half hour for Maria although Isabel seemed to handle the driving with practiced ease now that she knew what was going on. They had gone to see Michael to tell him what was going on and now - almost three hours after starting their journey - returned to find the Evans house empty and a note on the kitchen table asking for Isabel to come down to the Sheriff's office where her parents were in a discussion with the law. The two girls piled back in the Jeep after making sure their stories were straight - they had searched the desert and found nothing before finally finding Michael at home and discovering that he didn't know where Max was either. Then they headed off toward the Sheriff's office.

Eight miles away:
Special Agent Jaime Sanchez was STILL not a happy camper. He had driven for three hours - listening to Special Agent Bob Phillips prattle on about the 'butt-ugly' scenery of west Texas and eastern New Mexico, and wondering loudly what kind of idiots would want to live in such a place. He seemed to alternate that with anticipation of getting to Roswell and solving this case in record time - pulling in some ignorant and unsophisticated seventeen year old kid - he hadn't quite said 'beaner', but he'd certainly implied it.

This case, Phillips claimed, would be his ticket home to civilization, which he defined as the New York to Washington DC corridor, and telling 'Jamey,' which he persisted in calling Jaime despite multiple corrections, that he too could ride that ticket only if he played his cards right. In fact, Jaime had been to the Northeast on a number of occasions and liked the place well enough, despite the fact that he was a native Southwesterner and liked that area well enough too.

But it hadn't taken a hundred and fifty miles for Jaime to decide that he didn't want to go to the Northeast if Phillips was going to be there - it had taken less than ten. The Atlantic Seaboard wouldn't have been big enough for the two of them - and this GSA-leased car for damn sure was too small. Jaime was hoping to survive the next eight miles without doing something that would undoubtedly be a bad career move - however justified it seemed by the circumstances.

Eight miles away in the sheriff's office two sets of parents were watching a grainy black and white video.

"I suppose that COULD be my son," said Philip Evans reluctantly, "... I'd certainly not be able to say that was him beyond a reasonable doubt, but it possibly could be him - or a lot of other people. The quality really isn't very good, is it?"

"Don't start with the legal talk mumbo-jumbo," said Jeff Parker. "That's your son - and you damn well know it."

"Actually, we don't KNOW that Mr. Parker," objected Diane Evans. "For your sake - and for hers - I would almost hope that it was Max. I don't know why he WOULD do something like this but if it WERE Max at least we'd know your daughter was safe and she'd be returned unharmed. I'm rather more afraid that someone else may have kidnapped her. I know that Max cares for her a lot for her and as much as I worry about what's happening to Liz right now, I'm almost as worried about what is going to happen to Max himself when he hears that she has been kidnapped."

"Well I KNOW that it's him - it's obvious on the film - and I have no doubt about his intent - he made that clear when he was stalking her up in Albuquerque. And if he does anything to that helpless girl ... anything at all ... well you won't have to worry about getting the little bastard off in court - not if I catch up with him."

"Jeff....," started Nancy.

"Yes, Jeff," said the Sheriff looking at him sternly. "You aren't the law here and I don't even want to here you talk about taking things in to your own hands. We DON'T know that it is Max. When Max shows up he may have a perfectly good excuse for wehere he was and what he was doing when this abduction happened."

"And if he DOESN'T?" asked Jeff, "... or if he just doesn't show up at all?"

"Well, that would tell us something too, I guess, but we are way too early in this to be making allegations or to be limiting our investigation to one suspect. We all want your daughter back, Jeff. The Evans don't have to be here cooperating like this."

Jeff looked at the Sheriff sullenly. No, he really didn't want to cut off all other lines of inquiry. It was possible - not likely - but possible that the boy on the videotape wasn't Max. "Well, I can see that it makes sense to cover all the bets, Sheriff, but that boy is still number one on my suspect list. But since you have the experience and the resources...," Jeff let out a deep sigh, "... I guess I'll let you handle it,"...'...'for now at least,' he thought.

"Relativistic Astrophysics: The structure and evolution of the universe
By I. Akov Borisovich Zelʹdovich, Igorʹ Dmitrievich Novikov, Gary Steigman,and Leslie Fishbone," said Max reading the title of the book to himself as he shook his head in disbelief. The book was over 700 pages and the chapter he was REALLY interested in was chapter 24, The Direction of Time. It started on page 670, and after thirty seconds of trying to read it, Max had convinced himself that he was going to have to read the whole book in order to begin to understand that chapter. He put it down on his to-do list, that he'd try to get to tonight.

As much as he'd like to be with Liz tonight, he needed to stay up - let Izzy dreamwalk her - so he would be sleepy enough to dreamwalk her sometime tomorrow morning. He would have to change his circadian rhythm - work through the night and then sleep during the day - but that should be no problem. If reading seven hundred pages of this stuff couldn't get him to sleep tomorrow morning, he figured nothing could. But he had a lot to do before then. He'd start with

He looked at his list for today;

Clean podchamber
spend an hour or so digging in to the disassembled pod - trying to make more sense of it
Feed Liz three times with dilute Ensure and water
Bathe Liz
Shampoo Liz's hair
Dress her in new clothes - use powers to clean old clothes for reuse
Check periodically to see that diaper was clean and dry
Turn Liz from side to side every hour to avoid pressure sores
Full range of motion exercise - all upper extremity adductor, abductor, flexor and extensor muscles - 10 repetitions three times a day
Full range of motion - all lower extremity adductor, abductor, flexor and extensor muscles - 10 repetitions three times a day
Full range of motion all cervical spine extension, flexion, add rotation - 10 repetitions three times a day
change bed sheets - clean old ones with powers
change his own clothes and clean the dirty ones with his powers - also eat, drink, and spongebath himself.

and last ... and probably least - read the stupid book.

But none of that could take him past morning - because in the morning he could be with her - had to be with her to keep her reticular activating system stimulated. A few other things stimulated perhaps as well, he thought with a smile. He looked down at her comatose body. Sometimes this seemed so hopeless... but this was Liz ... his wife ... even if she didn't really believe that, he did. He would do anything he could - anything at all to get her back before she slipped away forever.

But as he looked at the stack of books - this was only the first of a very large pile of them - and it appeared to be the most basic. Certainly none of this was going to be easy. But first things first - he needed to start Liz's feeding, and get the podchamber spruced up.

Back in town:

The introductions had been perfunctory – they had all met at least briefly before. Even had they not, Bob Phillips' reputation had preceded him. Jim Valenti had briefed what they had – which largely came down to the surveillance video, the history of the accident, Max's difficulties with the Albuquerque medical center security and police department, and a brief profile of the boy – much of it from personal memory and observation.

Phillips was never impressed by local police. On this occasion he appeared to be struggling to not appear openly contemptuous – well, not even struggling all THAT hard really - and Jaime thought that even that modest attempt was only due to the man's rank and the fact he was a long-time friend of the senior-agent-in-charge in El Paso. Even so, the conflict was not long in coming...

“I'm telling you, Special Agent Phillips, that I know this boy. We have a small community here, and both of these kids have been going to school with my own son since third grade. I'll admit that if this was Max – and with every passing moment we don't find him it sure looks that way – he's certainly a disturbed young man, ut to an extent that's understandable. The whole town was disturbed by Liz's accident. But I'm telling you that these kids have been friends since childhood – I just can't see him hurting her. They were partners in their biology lab – they've been partners in science classes since junior high school – both honor students who were well respected by their teachers both individually and as a team. It would only be natural for her injury to upset him. Hes a shy kid, and Liz Parker is the only one he was ever really close to – to the extent at least that he was close to anyone at all.”

“What your telling me, Sheriff,” said Phillips, “..is that you have a complete and total lack of objectivity in this case and should disqualify yourself from any further participation – no, I take that back – since I now have jurisdiction, I can make that happen. You ARE disqualified from working on this case.”

“Bob,” said Jaime Sanchez, “...I don't think you are being entirely fair to the Sheriff here. He's known both the girl and the boy for years. Not only does this give him some insight we don't have, it gives him a rapport that neither of us have with their parents. Besides ... we need to remember that Special-Agent-in-Charge Donovan makes it a point that we should keep local law enforcement involvement.”

Phillips bit back his initial reply – that HE was the guy in charge here, and the junior man ought to just shut the hell up. The beaner agent had been right to remind him about Donavan. That SOB was a friend of Valenti. It would be just like him to write him a bad report that would stop him from getting his transfer back to civilization – even once he solved this case – if he wasn't at least a little bit careful.

“Well, OK,” said Phillips begrudgingly, looking at the Sheriff. “I'll still let you work on the case but just remember who is in charge, and don't give me any more about this poor little local boy pining over his injured girlfriend crap. The kid fits a classic profile – screwed up childhood – loner – stalking the girl once she was too injured to defend herself. The Albuquerque PD called it on this one. No doubt the kid's got her squirreled away somewhere – porking her right now if she's even still alive. Hell, even if she isn't, most likely. So just keep your mouth shut about your opinion that he's just a poor grieving kid, Sheriff, and remember who is in charge, and everything will be just fine.”

Jim Valenti clenched his jaws - afraid to speak because what he would say would doubtfully get him thrown off the case for good. He had to stay on the case if only to help protect the parents from the damage this asshole could do – and to keep Jeff Parker from losing it entirely. He finally managed to nod.

“Well OK then,”said Phillips. “Let's go see this Evans kid's parents and sister.”


While back out at the podchamber:

As his housekeeping duties took him near Liz, Max looked at the Yucca blossom by the bedside. He had seen it last night as he carried her to the podchamber and gone back to get it once he had her settled inside. It looked beautiful now beside her- although it paled in beauty next to Liz. It was like her - a native of New Mexico - a tough species that survived despite a hard difficult land. He knew she couldn't see it, but still - he wanted to keep fresh flowers at her bedside.

In a few days he would need to go get her some more flowers. He added that to his list, removed and stored Liz's feeding bottle, and got back to work.

He looked again at the book -wondering when he was going to find time to read it.
But he simply HAD to get to it ... that's what this was all about. That's what all the exercises and the care and the hiding out was for.

But none of that could take him past morning - because in the morning he could be with her - had to be with her to keep her reticular activating system stimulated. A few other things perhaps too, he thought with a smile. He looked down at her comatose body. Sometimes this seemed so hopeless... but this was Liz ... his wife ... even if she didn't really believe that, he did. He would do anything he could - anything at all to get her back before she slipped away forever.

He sighed deeply, and went back to his work. In only sixteen more hours he would be back asleep - and with her in mind as well as body. And if there was anything that could cure her - well somehow he would find it and she would at last be whole again. That made whatever he had to do in the meantime all worthwhile.

"Special Agent Phillips," said Jim Valenti, "..this is Mr. and Mrs Evans and their daughter Isabel. They are the family of Max Evans - the young man that was under the restraining order. Philip, Diane, Isabel, this is Special Agent Phillips and his partner Special Agent Sanchez."

"I wish I could honestly say I'm pleased to meet you, Officer," said Philip Evans, "... but the truth is I wish that none of this had ever even happened. Not Liz Parker's accident, and certainly not her being missing."

"Well there is a huge problem there, Mr. Evans. She isn't just 'missing,' it's apparent that she was abducted, and it appears to be looking increasingly like your son did the abducting."

"But why? Why would Max do something like that?" asked Diane. She looked at Isabel and shook her head."I guess I can accept that Max cared
for Liz far more than I ever would have believed before this happened. Going up to Albuquerque and quitting school and everything certainly proves Isabel was right about that. But why on Earth would he do something like this?"

Fearing Special Agent Phillips was actually about to voice his theories to the boys mother, Jaime decided he better jump on that question quick.

"Sometimes when tragedy strikes someone - well a lot of people who care about them go a little bit crazy, ma'am. It looks like everyone who knew Miss Parker has been through an awful lot of stress this past year. Sometimes people just sort of lose it. Right now I think the important thing is to get Miss Parker back and to get her back quickly, before anything further happens to her. If we can do that I'm sure that your son's emotional state can be taken into account when this is all sorted out in a court of law. the important thing now is just to get Miss Parker back - return her to a medical facility where they can help her. Above all, we don't want her hurt. That could only make the situation worse for everyone."

"Max would never hurt Liz...," said Isabel, glaring at Jaime Sanchez. Then as she noticed everyone looking at her, lowered her eyes, turned her head away, and belatedly continued, "... assuming of course that Max has anything to do with this at all."

"And what makes you so sure of that, Miss Evans?" asked Phillips in what Jaime knew to be the voice he used when he tried to intimidate people. "After all, one can't exactly expect honorable actions from guys who abduct helpless females, can one? Your brother - and anyone covering up for him - is in very serious trouble. I'd suggest that you cooperate fully, if you do not wish to wind up in a cell like your brother."

Jaime watched Isabel Evans. When she had turned away she had shielded most of her face from Phillips - and even from her parents. But from Jaime's perspective - he had seen the look that flashed on her face at that moment. It was there only for a fraction of a moment - but it had been unmistakable to someone like Jaime whose family had been in law enforcement since a distant grandparent had worked at the Presidio de Santa Barbara long before California became a state. For a moment the seventeen year old was a normal teenage girl - then she was something else - and then she resumed being a teenage girl again.

Jaime wasn't sure what had passed through Isabel Evans in that fraction of a second - but it wasn't intimidation. Phillips had misjudged this one badly if he thought a few insults and in your face comments were going to shake up the young girl. In fact, the look on that face for that brief second... suddenly Jaime found himself feeling like if it ever came to a fight between Phillips and the girl... well, he'd bet on the girl. The look had been a protective one - but like a protective mother lion toward her cubs. There had been a potential savagery there that was truly frightening and not the least bit of evidence the girl was intimidated.

Phillips was an idiot. Besides? Had he not paid ANY attention to Valenti's background brief about the parents? Jaime waited for the second shoe to drop - it didn't take long.

"Well," said Philip Evans, "... since you have just essentially accused my daughter of being an accomplice to kidnapping, I think that this interview is over. Get a warrant, Agent Phillips. Once you have read her her Miranda rights, she will decide - in consultation with her lawyers - if she wants to speak to you at all, or to simply take the Fifth. Until then, Isabel - you can leave now. Your mother and I will talk to the officer."

"Yes, Daddy," said Isabel, standing up and moving toward the door. Phillips moved to block her path - not, in the opinion of Jaime Sanchez, the brightest move he could make - but then Jaime couldn't recall a single smart thing that Phillips had done since leaving El Paso.

"Wait a minute, Mr. Evans," Phillips said, holding his hands up and forward in a placating manner, "... you REALLY do not want to do this. Lawyering up is a bad idea. Take it from me, I AM a lawyer. It'll cost you a lot of money and it'll just drag this out. That way is so slow and cumbersome and expensive that everyone loses. If you just cooperate fully, that'll be best for everyone. We don't want to drag lawyers in to this."

"Well, you had your chance for cooperation, Agent Phillips. That's why we came here. But that went out the window when you threatened my daughter. Now we do it the slow cumbersome legal way. Oh, and by the way - My wife and I? We ARE two of those expensive lawyers you seem to dislike so much. Now get out of my daughter's way or show me a warrant, or you'll be facing a charge of illegal arrest."

Jaime looked sideways at Jim Valenti - wondering if the sheriff was fighting as hard as he was to keep from laughing at Philips. Still, it wasn't a laughing matter really. They still had a missing girl .. and two families were still fearful and wondering where their kids were.

"Well, THAT went well," said Jim Valenti sarcastically. "What part of 'both of the Evans boy's kids parents are lawyers,' didn't you understand?"

"I want you to know that I am in charge of this investigation and we WILL get our man," said Special Agent Bob Phillips.

Nancy watched Jeff shake his head in frustration. "I don't want a pep talk, Agent Phillips, my wife and I want our daughter back - and we want her back immediately."

"I assure you, we have men out searching right now..." said Phillips. Jim Valenti fought to keep his face from looking any sterner than it already did - and also fought to keep from butting in and mentioning - they were all HIS men doing the searching.

Phillips and Sanchez hadn't done much but piss off the Evanses and checked in to their hotel rooms. He looked at the senior FBI agent and again fought the urge to say something. It would only make the situation worse. He looked at Jaime Sanchez and his face softened slightly. Agent Sanchez seemed like a nice kid - embarrassed half to death by the senior agent's attitude and actions - but a nice enough kid. Jim sort of suspected that if Bob Phillips called the man Jamey just one more time, Agent Sanchez was going to shoot him.

'If so,' he told himself, reveling in the lovely fantasy, '... that's just going to be one of the great unsolved crimes of the Old West, cause there isn't a sole in the Sheriff's department who would lift a finger to solve that arrogant bastards murder,' Unfortunately the lovely fantasy had to be interrupted since things were starting to get ugly with Jeff Parker.

"I don't give a rat's ass how many men you have SEARCHING Agent Phillips. What are they FINDING?"

"Jeff," said Jim Valenti, "it's not that easy and you know that. You've lived here all of your life. Chaves county has over 6000 square miles - That's bigger than Connecticut, Delaware, or Rhode Island." That was mostly for the benefit of Agent Phillips who Jim Valenti was pretty sure really didn't have a clue about the magnitude of the job he'd inherited. "We have less than 100 uniformed officers - enough to see that twenty are on duty at any given time. That's one for every 300 square miles. We aren't going to just stumble upon your daughter if she has been taken off the well traveled areas. This county has any number of ghost towns, old mines, deserted ranches... you know that as well as I do. We are checking things out and we are going to get our auxiliary and those of Otero, Eddy, Lincoln, and Lea counties, but it won't be quick and it won't be easy and it's going to take time."

"And what's happening to my daughter in the meantime? Damn Jim, the girl is helpless. She needs constant care - even the nursing home wasn't enough, but some kid abducting her.... What do the Evanses have to say? Do they have any idea where he might have her?"

"Well, the Evanses aren't being exactly what you would call cooperative right now, Mr. Parker," said Phillips.

"What do you mean - not cooperative?"

What Jim wanted to say was that a flaming asshole by the name of Phillips had pushed cooperative people into circling the wagons - but it would probably only make things worse, so what he actually said was, "Look, you know Isabel better than I do - do you really think she'd do anything to hurt Liz? I'm sure if she gets any information on where Liz or Max are, she'll bring it right to us. Her parents too. Right now I just don't think they know any more than we do. I do know that Isabel and Maria were out riding around the desert, looking for any sign of Max or Liz."

"If Max doesn't have their Jeep, how did he move Liz?" asked Jeff Parker. He didn't want to believe that Isabel was involved - but the boy had to have used some vehicle. 'He couldn't have carried Liz all that far in his arms, and the area around the nursing home has already been very carefully searched. Was it possible his sister was involved?'

"Our initial assumption, Mr .Parker, " said Jaime Sanchez, is that a stolen motor vehicle was used."

"Stolen?"

"We are near enough the border that there are a lot of auto theft rings. People down south of the border request certain types of cars - they are located and stolen and transported across the border. Then the registration is either changed - easy enough to do if you bribe a government official - or sometimes the vehicles go to chop shops just south of the border that disassemble them and sell used parts further south. Anyway, Eddy and Lea counties have a lot of auto thefts. One more just sort of gets lost in the background."

Jeff Parker nodded. Maybe. He didn't want to distrust Isabel - she had been awfully nice to Liz - but blood was thicker than water - he couldn't completely rule her out either.

"Our next steps, Mr. Parker, ..." started Phillips, “… are to….”


While the briefing continued for Jeff and Nancy, back in the podchamber Max was hard at work:

He had finished his cleaning - interrupted only once by the timer that went off hourly to tell him it was time to reposition Liz to avoid her getting bedsores.

He had next shampooed her hair - drying it with his powers - and then proceeded to give her a sponge bath. If this were in the abyss - or had Liz actually been mentally present and willing - sponging her might have been sort of erotic - or even the start of activities that were even more erotic. As it was, it was an act of love of a totally different sort.

Max wasn't totally comfortable with the fact that he and Liz had even had sex in the abyss. Yes - she had been willing - more than willing - but she thought it was a dream. Of course, it WAS a dream, but Liz didn't actually believe that he was sharing the experience with her. That made it somehow - discomforting.

It certainly wasn't like he hadn't enjoyed it - that he had to admit - and Liz had certainly seemed to enjoy it as well - but she had still thought it was ONLY a dream - a dream she truly believed was her own private world, despite the many times he and Isabel had explained the truth to her.

That was one of the reasons that he had proposed to her. Before he let that moment happen - knowing she really didn't believe he was any more than a figment of the imagination of her damaged brain - he needed to feel he had truly committed to her before the consummation had occurred even in the abyss.

He hoped - prayed - that this would all come out alright - that someday he would look in her eyes and stop the degeneration that was killing her a little bit everyday - that someday they could both come out of their pods at a time when the technology would exist to actually make her whole again. And when that happened - when Liz realized he really had been in the abyss with her - when she realized he really had been there and they'd shared that intimacy - he wanted her to know about his commitment - wanted her to understand that he really hadn't simply been taking advantage of a confused and lonely girl. More to the point, however, he wanted to believe himself that he hadn't been taking advantage of a confused and lonely girl.

That didn't mean, however, that the marriage was not real for him. Until she told him it wasn't, Liz was his responsibility now. Certainly he didn't intend to consummate it in THIS world - not until Liz was awake and realized it hadn't been JUST a dream. She had already said, 'I do,' but what he needed was for her to still want that once she understood and believed. But in the interim - she was his wife in this world as well as the abyss, and he'd take care of her the best that he could.

That's why the love now was a love of service. Oh, even in her wasted condition, Liz was certainly beautiful. But the thoughts her naked body aroused were not erotic ones. The spongebath - the exercises - the clean clothes - the constant turning - these were acts of a non-erotic love. Sex really wasn't a part of it. Which is probably why as he started to change what was obviously a used diaper, he almost filled his own pants.

'Oh God, what's wrong with her now?' thought Max as he saw the blood in the Depends. The panic lasted for what seemed like an eternity - probably no more than four or five seconds really - as his mind went through a quick differential of things that might cause blood in a diaper. Stomach ulcer? Kidney stones? Raging bladder infection? Colon Cancer?
With each thought he fought back the despair of knowing that - without her being conscious - he couldn't cure her as well as the guilt of wondering if stealing her away from the nursing home had somehow provoked this new pathological condition.

As he examined further the realization hit him. He was an idiot.

'For the last five years Izzy's been going through this every four weeks,' he thought, shaking his head in disbelief at his own stupidity, '... you might have thought ahead and at least brought some sanitary pads...'

With a mixture of relief that Liz was alright and embarrassment at his own stupidity, he quickly changed her Depends. He took a small wad of facial tissues and rolled them into something approximating a maxi-pad, and placed the roll strategically in her new Depends. That would work for now - for the future he would add that to the growing list of things that he had not thought to bring along on this abduction. The two of them, he figured, might be there for a long time.

Max shook his head and looked at Liz's face lovingly. "You'd think with all the stuff you hear at the Crash festival about alien abductions that we aliens would actually be good at it, wouldn't you? You think it's possible that somewhere in all this alien junk there is an Alien Abduction for Dummies book? Your clueless husband could certainly use it."

Getting no response, he continued. "Well, if you have nothing else to say, it's time for your physical therapy - fingers first - then wrists - elbows - shoulders. You ready?"

There was no response, but he got to work anyway. He had a lot of work to do, but that was OK. It was a labor of love.

"Just Shut the hell up, Agent Phillips, and LISTEN to me."

Jaime Sanchez fought to hold back a smile. He was a good ten feet from the phone where Bob Phillips was talking to the Federal Prosecutor in El Paso, but he was still hearing most of the conversation. The Federal Prosecutor was pissed - and righly so. He was shouting at Phillips so loud he might as well have been on the speakerphone. So far, however, he might as well have been shouting at a wall for all the good it seemed to be doing. It didn't appear that a word had gotten through to Bob.

"I'm telling you," said Phillips again, "...if you'll just lean on the parents - tell them you are the federal prosecutor and threaten to put their daughter away for life if she doesn't cooperate - that's all it will take. So what if they are small town lawyers - I'm a lawyer too, so are you. and we work for the federal government."

"I am NOT going to do that and if you do that, whatever small chance you have of not totally fucking up this case just went out the window. Now I'm telling you to do NOTHING with the Evanses - nothing at all until you hear back from SAIC Donovan who I will be talking to at considerable length. And now I want to talk to your partner."

Bob Phillips looked at the telephone and shook his head disgustedly. "He wants to talk to you...." Phillips handed the phone to Jaime and walked out of the common room their suite shared back to his own bedroom, shaking his head and muttering to himself as he went.

"This is Agent Sanchez."

"Yeah, Jaime, isn't it? I'm Bernard Rothstein. We met once at the Donovan's - Eloise's birthday I think it was. How's it going out there?"

"Well, it certainly could be better."

"I can imagine. Look Jaime, this case is threatening to blow up on us and we both know why. I'm going to talk to Donovan and he is going to talk to your senior agent, but that's going to take a little time - in the meantime we have this young girl - probably off in the desert some where with this obsessed young man - I'm actually less concerned over what he might be doing to her after talking with Jim Valenti than I am about what he might NOT be doing with her."

"What do you mean, sir?"

"The girl needs just a hell of a lot of continuous nursing care, Agent Sanchez. If even a few days go by without that, her condition could start to deteriorate precipitously. If his sister does have any information that would be helpful, we need that and we need that now. I don't know any good non-judgmental way to say this, but your senior agent is an idiot. The Evanses chose to live in a small town, but it certainly wasn't because they couldn't have made it in the city. Diane was two years ahead of me in law school and she was editor of the law review - Dean's list - recruited by all the prestige firms - the whole package, you know?

She's a good lawyer - one of the best - and if you push her she'll tie this thing up in knots for so long this case won't even be a memory for any of us by the time it gets to court.
But she really is an honest person with a conscience - so's her husband. If their son or daughter is really involved, the two of them worse than anyone will want to make sure that girl gets back safely. Hell, even if their kid isn't involved, they'll want to do that. She and Phil are good people. Even now if they are approached right, I think they'll cooperate. But I don't have much faith that your partner can do that after what's happened - if he ever could to begin with."

"Well, what do you want me to do, sir?" asked Jaime.

"Just go see Diane Evans. Hell, do it on the record - off the record - any way you can get it done. Realistically I see only two possibilities. The boy is just misguided - in which case we have a chance of getting the girl back without too much damage, or the boy has gone off the rails altogether. In the second case, it's going to be John Hinckley all over again..."

"John Hinckley?"

"Yeah, the guy that shot Reagan. Everybody knew he did it - hell we had it on videotape - he'd left notes saying that he was going to assassinate the President that were found after the assassination attempt - but none of that mattered.
The guy was a whack-job - he'd had psych problems before the assassination attempt. Same thing with this Max kid. His early childhood was totally screwed up - a foundling kid who couldn't even talk at age six - and for the last year he's been a school dropout getting court mandated psych counseling. The worst that's going to happen to this kid is that he gets sent away to a funny farm until he can convince some shrink that he's no longer a threat to society. It doesn't matter if your partner thinks that's fair - you think that's fair - or I think that's fair - that's exactly what's going to happen. Get Diane pissed at us, we might not get even that."

"I don't know, sir. Agent Phillips is my superior and if you are a friend of the suspect and ...."

"Oh, come on, son. First of all, Agent Phillips isn't superior to a prairie dog, secondly I'm not asking you to go easy on anyone - if and when this looks like Diane's boy might be involved, I'll recuse myself first thing and get the Albuquerque office to take over, but right now we need to sort of stop the bleeding and get that girl back and everything calmed down - and if you hadn't noticed yet, son, your 'superior' is a flaming asshole who is only going to make things worse the way he's going. He's some sort of glory-hound who thinks this case is his ticket to fame. I just want to not screw up the lives of these kids any more than we can avoid."

Jaime found it hard to disagree with that opinion - nonetheless - the guy was his partner...."Well.... I don't know..."

"Look, Jaime.... the legal system failed here. That girl would not be in a coma had that drunk not been let go by the system, I know that and I'm pretty sure you know that. Please help me keep this from getting any worse."

"Well...OK, maybe I'll give it a try," said Sanchez, looking doubtfully at the room where Phillips was sulking. He walked slowly to the open door.

"So what did that dipshit want with you," asked Phillips.

"Oh - you know - remedial basic law for law enforcement 101 - Miranda rights and all of that...."

Phillips grabbed a small bottle from the wet bar and twisted the cap off - then swallowed it. "It's that damn Donovan that's doing this, Jamey - you understand that don't you?. He's had it in for me ever since I got to the El Paso unit. Well maybe he deserves to be assigned to this shithole sector, but I'm meant for better things. He's jealous of my law degree - you know that? That's what's behind this. He's going to tie our hands - him and that Hebe lawyer - and when this kid gets done with this girl - if he hasn't already finished with her - he's going to head south for beaner land and that'll be the case. We get stuck with an unsolved case, and Donovan gives us annual reports that we are screw ups. Well I don't know about you, but I'm planning on getting good and drunk - then writing a letter to headquarters telling them exactly what I think of our SAIC. Are you with my, Jaimey?" Phillips asked, opening another bottle.

Jaime Sanchez considered his options for a millisecond - hang with his 'superior' and see if he was actually able to put a letter together quick enough to commit career suicide before he was too drunk to actually work his laptop, or go see Diane Evans. It was an easy call. As Phillips started opening his third bottle Jaime gently lifted the man's service automatic from its place on his nightstand and put it under his coat.

"Well, I guess I'll see you later. Want me to bring you anything?"

"Huh - oh... well if you go by a liquor store, a fifth of Jack Daniels would be good. These damn little bottles are a pain."

"I'll see what I can do.." promised Jaime. Hopefully all the liquor stores would be closed before he got done seeing Dianne Evans, he thought.

He had arrived at the address listed in the briefing book that the Sheriff had given them - the one with the black jeep in the driveway - only to find the house empty. But as he started to leave, a station wagon came around the corner and turned into the driveway alongside the jeep. Jaime saw the two women get out and figured this was his chance.

"Mrs. Evans - I'd like to talk to you for a minute please."

Diane looked at her daughter and then at the man. The suit might as well have had 'federal agent' stenciled on it. Nobody else wore a tie in Roswell. "I already told your superior that if you want to talk to my daughter you can get a court order - or at least TRY getting a court order."

"Look... Mrs. Evans. I understand that your upset - and frankly I don't blame you. I'm not here for Agent Phillips. Bernard Rothstein called and asked that I see you personally - talk to you and try to undo some of the damage that my fellow agent has done. Then if you are willing, we can talk about me talking to your daughter."

"Bernie asked you to talk to me? Well, in that case - I suppose I owe you a little courtesy - at least after insulting you like that."

"Insulting me like what?"

Diane's stern face seemed to soften as she looked at the young agent. "For calling Phillips your 'superior.' If ever I heard fighting words - those are them."

"Well, I'll forgive you if you just give me five minutes to explain our concerns - Mr. Rothstein's and mine."

"OK, come in to the kitchen and I'll get you a cup of coffee. You, young lady," she said looking at Isabel, "... just go to your room until I decide if we want to have you talk to Agent Sanchez or not."

The girl was attractive, thought Jaime, but there was something about her. Even if she was perfectly innocent an FBI Agent usually intimidates someone her age - he'd seen it his whole career. But her eyes were watching him - looking to her mother - you could almost hear the gears grinding in her brain as she went through her thought processes. It was funny - Jaime had a knack for reading such things - Isabel Evans wasn't afraid of Agent Jaime Sanchez for herself. It almost seemed like she was coldly considering whether or not she trusted him with her mother. Which of course had to be wrong - or crazy. First of all, he wasn't going to hurt her mother. Secondly - well he was an armed FBI agent in the prime of his health - it wasn't like she could possibly figure that she could stop him if he was some sort of a threat to her mother anyway, could she?

Whatever the case, something clicked in the girl's brain and her eyes lowered. "Yes Mom, I'll be right in my room if you need me." She walked slowly through the kitchen door and back into the house as Jaime sat down at the kitchen table with Diane.

"OK, Agent Sanchez - dropping Bernie's name got you in the door and will get you a cup of coffee. Where this goes from there depends on what you have to say. Do you take cream or sugar?"

"Uh no, just black, thanks. The thing is, Mrs. Evans, your son hasn't shown up..."

"Do you think that I don't know that every hour that goes by increases the probability that Max is involved in Liz's disappearance. I'm neither stupid nor in denial, Agent Sanchez..."

"Ma'am, I'm sure you are just as worried about your son as the Parker's are about their daughter. For that matter, I imagine that you are awfully worried about Liz Parker too. You have a daughter of your own, and I don't doubt you realize what they are going through."

"I can't imagine what they have gone through this last ten or eleven months since the accident. It's every parents worst nightmare ... and now this. Of course a year ago I wouldn't have believed my son could have been involved in something like this - but the way that girl's injury affected him...." Diane shook her head slowly, her eyes bright with unshed tears, "... a year ago my husband and I were talking about getting Max counseling because he seemed so depressed - so much of a loner he didn't engage in life. He seemed like he almost thought himself not really a part of the rest of society - didn't participate in any of the social scene. I remember telling my husband that I was afraid Max would never care deeply about anyone. Foolish me, ... how could I have so misjudged him. I was absolutely stunned when he just dropped everything and ran off to Albuquerque to be with her when he learned she was hurt."

"Sometimes kids are just loners - they keep secrets from everyone."

"Isabel knew. It didn't even surprise her. When he ran out that door," said Diane, pointing back to the kitchen door, "...it was like she thought it was the most natural thing in the world."

"She supported him doing that?"

"No, not really. More like she was resigned to it. I gather she'd spent some effort over the years trying to keep them apart."

"So she was worried about Max's obsession for Liz?"

"I'm not sure what it WAS - not really. She didn't really dislike Liz - she sort of implied that she thought Liz was the wrong one for Max - that they were too different. But once Max's love for Liz was out in the open - well, Isabel changed. It's like suddenly Liz was her sister. Isabel and Maria - Liz's best friend - have been helping care for her for the past year."

"Then, your daughter would realize how much care Miss Parker actually requires? That was one of Mr. Rothstein's concerns. Even if your son really doesn't intend to do anything harmful to Miss Parker, just by keeping her away from proper medical care he could be harming her anyway - and of course there's the pain he's causing the Parker's as well."

Diane sighed. "I know that - and I'd like to help, but the way Agent Phillips was acting..."

"Look, Mrs Evans..., I don't think anyone is out to get your daughter. As far as your son - well, if he's really done this, he'll have to answer for it..."

"I know that.."

"..but even so, Mrs. Evans, Mr. Rothstein says he understands the situation. A kid with an early childhood that was - who knows how bizarre - who was getting court ordered mental health counseling... If we can get the situation under control now - before Miss Parker's health deteriorates - before your son actually acts upon his obsession and hurts Liz Parker if it isn't already too late for that...."

"Max would NEVER hurt Liz!," came the angry shout, and Jaime looked up to see Isabel standing in the opening to the hallway. "My brother isn't obsessed with her - or maybe he is if you call loving someone being obsessed with them. But he'd never harm her. Never!"

FBI agents don’t scare easily but Isabel had appeared at his side almost like a ghost. FBI agents DO startle – and Jaime jumped away in surprise triggering what could have been one of the worst faux pas imaginable.

The car Jaime was using wasn’t one of the regular FBI cars – the one that normally would have been used was in the shop. All of their regular vehicles had gun safes in them. Under normal circumstances, that’s where Bob Phillips service automatic – a .40 caliber Glock 23 – would be secured right now – in a gun safe in the FBI vehicle. Well, they didn’t have an FBI vehicle and the cheap rental car the FBI had gotten off the GAO contract had seemed reasonable enough despite it’s poor locks and lack of a gun safe when they were in El Paso. Of course, at the time Jaime hadn’t really considered the possibility that he’d have to confiscate a pistol from a drunk agent. While the Evans neighborhood didn’t seem all that bad compared to a lot of neighborhoods in El Paso, it was nonetheless against Agency policy to leave an unsecured weapon in a car – which is why the Glock had been shoved into Jaime’s waistband under his jacket. Unfortunately ‘had been’ was the operative term. When Jaime jumped, Phillips’ Glock in its improvised stowage – Jaime’s own was in its holster – separated itself from Jaime’s waistband and headed for the floor.

Some things you do without conscious thought. Jaime made a grab for the weapon with his right hand and kept it from falling to the floor - that was the good news - in doing so he caused it to flip up into the air - that was the bad news. Unfortunately, there was even worse news.

The Glock 23 was chosen for the FBI because it has a remarkable safety system. It has three separate mechanisms that insure against inadvertent firing. Unfortunately, a typical external safety isn't one of those. The only way - the ONLY way the Glock can be fired is if the trigger is pulled straight back and with a cartridge chambered - the way it was in Bob Phillips' gun - all that it would take was a straight pull on that trigger to fire the chambered round. Unfortunately Jaime's left hand -fumbling for the tumbling gun - found that trigger as the barrel of the weapon rotated directly toward Diane Evans.

Isabel had only been eavesdropping - she really hadn't intended to go off like that - but somehow the things that the FBI Agent had been saying about her brother more than just enraged her. His words called to something primal within her - an attack upon Max who she loved - and Liz who was now her sister - was worse somehow than an attack on her personally. It had been pure rage that had sent her back to scream at the young agent - but the rage turned to something else as she saw him jump - saw the Glock start to fall - be batted into the air - and finally his left hand manage to grasp the spinning weapon.

It wasn't really a Connection - more like her rage was pulling his thoughts from Jaime - and in doing so saw his mind go from surprise to embarrassment - embarrassment to concern - and finally to horror. Isabel saw in his mind what he knew was going to happen as his non-dominant hand fumbled with the handgun and his index finger grasped inside the trigger guard. Three and a half pounds - that was all the trigger pull it would take - and Jaime was fighting his own reactions that were already starting to grip the handgun with more than enough force to send a bullet crashing toward her mother.

Something deep within Isabel took control as she saw the threat to Diane Evans. Something not really human. Something ... alien. For Isabel, time seemed to slow to a crawl - the pistol barely rotating in the air and Jaime gripping it as if in slow motion. But not her hands - Isabel's hands moved like lightning as her mind plucked from the young agent's mind the threat to her mother and the only way she could quickly neutralize it.

It seemed like time stood still to Jaime as he tried to tell his left hand to just drop the damn pistol - but even as the signals were going from his brain to tell his hand to do just that - he knew it was already too late. He could practically feel the sear release - he imagined the hammer starting forward toward the firing pin - and then his hand felt the pistol being pulled away - not by recoil - but by the seventeen year-old girl who had surprised him.

Isabel Evans' hand grabbed across the top of the receiver, twisting the gun from his grasp - he would have thought it impossible - but that's what happened. All at once the girl was holding the Glock - safely by the receiver - and everything was safe once more.

"My God..." said Jaime, feeling his knees suddenly go weak.

"Isabel Marie Evans," screamed Diane. "Put down that gun immediately."

There had been a fire in Isabel's eyes - something inhuman - but Jaime and Diane had been watching the Glock - not Isabel's eyes, and with her mother's voice breaking whatever spell had come over her - the fire seemed to quench itself and time seemed to speed back up to normal. Isabel swallowed several times - not sure herself what had just happened, and lay the gun softly on the kitchen table.

"Yes, Mommy," she said, in a voice that sounded like she was back in third grade. Her knees, apparently, were a little weak too.

"Agent Sanchez... I'm terribly sorry about Isabel's behavior. No matter how we may disagree, you are a guest in our home."

"Ma'am - I understand. Family is important in my culture too. We tend to stick together - to defend one another - that's not always a bad thing. I don't believe your son is doing something he thinks is bad either - any more than I thought I was doing something bad when I brought that weapon into this house. It belongs to Agent Phillips and he is - indisposed. I was keeping it for him and the car didn't have a gun safe and I didn't want to leave it unsecured so - so I brought it into this house shoved into my waistband without even thinking - like some sort of a Pirates of the Caribbean character - and when your daughter startled me I wound up doing that juggling routine and - I'm glad she got the thing under control, actually, before there was a tragedy. This situation with your son - it's like that too I think. There already was a tragedy - what happened to that young girl. I don't think your son wants to hurt her - but what he's done is illegal - it's hurting the girl's parents and the longer the girl is away from a medical facility the more likely it is that her condition will deteriorate - and that condition will be blamed on your son - even if he does nothing ... untoward ... to the girl."

"Max wouldn't do anything 'untoward' and the nursing home wasn't a medical facility - it was a warehouse," said a frowning Isabel Evans.

"Isabel - I think it would be a good idea if you just went to your room and let me talk to the agent..."

"Ma'am - I really would like to talk to both of you. I'd like to make this off the record - no Miranda - it would be for your daughter a reversible error were she to self-incriminate. That means - well you are a lawyer - you know what that means."

"It means that whatever you say," Diane said to her daughter, "...couldn't be held against you - although they could use it to find Max - and to prosecute him."

Isabel saw the young agent nod his head. "...and if I don't want them to find Max?"

"Isabel - I can't believe you knew Max was going to do this..."

"No - I didn't, Mom. I had no idea. But since he has done it it started me thinking...." Isabel didn't know how to put it in words - it wasn't like she'd ever even been close to Liz before the accident - and it would be a little awkward trying to explain how she got to know Liz better after the accident.

In truth, she'd been scared of Liz Parker from the third grade on - right up until the accident - because Max was so attracted to her. It wasn't logical - third grade kids didn't fall in love - but Max had. Except that over the months since the accident - Isabel had come to realize that Max was right about Liz - that perhaps he had been right all along. In any event, Liz was now her sister-in-law, at least in Max's eyes if not in the opinion of the great sovereign state of New Mexico and somehow down to her very core her opinion of Liz had changed. Liz was family now and she loved her too - and there was nothing more important than taking care of those you loved.

"You know, I had no idea that Max was going to kidnap Liz from that nursing home. The plan Maria and I had was to spend every hour there that we could helping her to get the care that she had been getting at the rehab ward... but I think that Max probably knew that wouldn't be enough. They had told us we could only go there during visiting hours - eight hours a day - Liz needed to be turned every hour or so to keep her from getting bed sores. She needed to have her joints mobilized - the nursing home wasn't staffed for that, it wouldn't have gotten done except when Maria or I were there - and that wouldn't have been enough."

"But your brother won't be able to take care of her," insisted Jaime. "He's not capable of that sort of care either. He doesn't have the facilities or the skills..."

"You have no idea what my brother is capable of," Isabel replied. Something about the way she said it - or perhaps it was the look in her eyes as she said it - sent a chill through Jaime's body. He looked again and - whatever it was - it had passed. Isabel continued, "Anyway, you can tell how great the nursing home 'care' was - they apparently didn't even notice she was missing for six hours. I have no doubt that Max could do better than that."

Jaime shook his head in frustration. "I'm going to ask you directly, Miss... do you have any idea where your brother is?"

"I'd imagine he's with Liz..."

"OK then, I am going to ask you once more - and I'd appreciate a straight answer - do you have any idea where Liz Parker is?"

Isabel looked at her mother and Agent Sanchez and crossed her heart. "I swear, I have absolutely NO IDEA where Liz Parker is," she said with a perfectly straight face. "Cross my heart, Mom."

'Liz Evans, on the other hand,' Isabel thought to herself, '.. is in the podchamber ... with her husband.'

At that point there was a knock on the door. "That's probably Alex," said Isabel. "We have a coffee date - and I think I've given you all the information that you are going to get from me so if I may be excused...?"

Jaime looked at Diane and shrugged his shoulders and then nodded his assent. "I would like to talk to you for a few minutes though Mrs. Evans - just the two of us."

"OK Isabel - go on with Alex. You and I will discuss this in greater detail later."

"Thanks... bye Mom... Agent Sanchez."

"Well agent Sanchez, what would you like to discuss?" asked Diane.

"Mrs. Evans," said Jaime, "...I realize that you are Max's mother - but as an attorney you are also an officer of the court..."

"An officer of the court who does NOT need to be reminded of her responsibilities to the law, Agent Sanchez."

Jaine nodded his head as if conceding the point. "As long as we are going to be putting our cards on the table here, why don't you call me Jaime."

"What - you've gotten sick and tired of being called Jamey?"

"Please....," Jaime said, rolling his eyes skyward, "...was it that obvious?"

"That you and your partner were somewhat less than simpatico? Or that you think the man is an idiot. Lawyers do have to be able to read people, you know."

"I think that the first is probably correct and as for the second - I think I'll take the Fifth on that one myself. He is my superior, Mrs. Evans."

"Well, if we are going to be putting our cards on the table Jaime, my name is Diane. And Agent Phillips isn't superior to a vinegaroon - much less his junior agent."

Jaime smiled. "I realize he didn't get off on the best foot with the people here..."

"True, and I somehow have a feeling we actually saw him at his best..."

Jaime struggled to keep his smile from becoming a laugh.

"Well, I suppose we could talk about my partner all day..."

"...and you'd dance around the kind of bigoted idiot he is, because he's your partner and that's the kind of guy you are," said Diane.

"I'm not really all that different from him..."

"That's not true and you know it - if it were we wouldn't even be having this talk. You see, I believe you care about Liz Parker and her parents - I even believe you care about my kids. That man cares about nothing but his own career."

Jaime shrugged. He couldn't very well argue that point. "What I'd like to talk about is your son, Diane. I believe your daughter is right. With every passing minute that he's missing it becomes more likely he was involved in the girls abduction - even if the video isn't really adequate to prove that."

Diane nodded sadly. "I wish I could say you're wrong, Jaime, but I don't think so. I do believe my daughter when she says she didn't know Max was going to do this. When she was a little girl her father used to say 'Cross my heart,' when he meant to emphasize a promise to her. She picked that up and - I've never known her to fib about it. If she says she doesn't know where Liz Parker is - cross her heart - I'm pretty sure she's telling the truth. As for me - I don't know either. I don't know how he could have gotten Liz away with no vehicle........"

"How long had they been going together?"

Diane's eyes looked skyward and she shook her head. "That's part of the problem - to the best of my knowledge they had NEVER gone together. I mean I had met Liz a few times - I was aware that she was in Max's classes in elementary school - knew they were lab partners even - but it wasn't until that morning that I even had a clue."

"That morning?"

"We had planned to go on a camping trip. We had the radio on the local station as we were getting breakfast - they said that Liz Parker had been injured in an auto accident and shipped off to the trauma center in Albuquerque. My son got up from the table and walked out - got in the jeep and left for Albuquerque. We didn't see him again until the Albuquerque police called for us to come and get him. I hadn't even realized that he cared for the girl. What kind of a mother does that make me?"

"A pretty good one I'd imagine, based upon how your daughter cares for you - and how you care for her. I've obviously never met Max, but it's not unusual for teenagers to hide their crushes. Chances are that he'd never told anyone about it."

"His sister knew. God, I'll always remember her face. It was like - resignation. Like she'd been fighting a battle for years and finally realized that she'd well and truly lost it."

"Fighting a battle?"

"According to what she said - well it sounds stupid, I know - but Isabel said that Max had been in love with Liz since the third grade - that she'd tried to break it up - I don't know why - but - it was like when she saw the look in his eyes as he'd left this kitchen to get in the jeep, she knew. She said he was going to be with Liz."

"So your daughter resented your son's affection for this girl?"

Diane shook her head. "I suppose so - I'm not sure. Before that morning I wasn't even aware Max's affection for Liz existed. Afterwards - well, afterwards Izzy changed. When we got Max back it's like she had given up on ever keeping them apart. Instead she and Maria spent all the time they could helping to care for Liz. Not a trace of reluctance. Like she'd done what she could to stop him but Max had made his decision and now Liz was - well - like Liz was family."

"So you think that she changed her mind about Liz because of her brother. I take it the two of them are close?"

"Yeah - always have been - from the very first minute we saw them walking along hand in hand. They were foundlings and Philip and I were the ones that did the founding as the joke goes. They were such cute little wide-eyed kids - like the whole world was new to them. We were allowed to foster them while their parents were looked for - eventually we were allowed to adopt them."

"But Isabel kept Max's obsession with Liz a secret from you for - what - a decade? Do they keep a lot of secrets from you?"

"I don't know if Izzy really considered Max liking Liz - it's hard to talk about a third grader actually being in love - as something she was keeping a secret. It was more like she just didn't approve and was hoping it would all go away. No Izzy can be a little bit of a loner, but she wasn't the one that ever really concerned us. It was Max that we used to really worry about."

"Worried about? In what way?"

"Jaime - I'm not sure your briefing really did justice to the condition the kids were in when we found them. It wasn't just that they were abandoned naked and alone in the middle of nowhere in the desert, it was that they were - I don't know how to explain it - it's like they were empty."

"Empty?"

"They absolutely didn't know anything. It wasn't just that they were naked - they didn't know what clothes were. It wasn't just that they didn't speak English, they didn't speak Spanish or French or Latin or any other language we tried. Physically they were fine but it was like whatever trauma they had gone through had completely erased any vestige of their previous lives. The Sheriff's department looked throughout the entire area - I mean neither one of them were in that bad a shape - they couldn't have been walking far from wherever someone dropped them off - but no one found anything. They were an enigma - and to some extent still are."

"They were what - six years old when you found them. That's old enough to remember - at least something - of their prior lives. Have you ever asked them?"

"Many times. Not at first, of course, but after they learned to speak after - Isabel at least - had bonded and considered herself part of the family. All she would say was that they remembered nothing about the time prior to the day we found them."

"But Max didn't bond?"

"Oh, he did eventually. At first we really worried about him. It was like he didn't want to stay with us - didn't feel like he belonged. We had him see counselors but they only seemed to frighten him. My husband and I worried at times that we would lose him - that he'd run away - back to El Dorado."

"El Dorado?"

"A mythical lost city of gold."

"I know what El Dorado is - I think I had an ancestor go on one of those expeditions, actually, but in this context..."

"Oh, I'm sorry. It was something that Phil and I used to kid about. That the two kids had come from the magical city of El Dorado and lost their memories when they left it. Isabel was content to be part of our family. Max wanted to go back."

"So he has never really accepted this place as his home?"

"No, actually. that all changed after the first two years. After we got the kids up to grade-level I wanted them to be around other kids. Their past had been bizarre enough. I wanted their future to be normal, so I quit home-schooling them and put them in public school. After that, Max was still a little bit of a loner - but it was clear he now considered Roswell home."

"That would have been when - what age?"

"Well, as best we could tell their ages, that would have been when they were about nine. That's when they started in thid grade and.... Oh my God ... that would have been when Max first met Liz."

"Do seriously think that this all started then?"

Diane shook her head in wonder. "No, I guess not - that would be too bizarre. But I can't help but wonder if that's what Izzy thinks."

"So what was Max like - when he was younger? You describe him as sort of a loner. That can be - a bad start - for a kid. "

"Trust me, Jaime, you couldn't have found anyone in the world as concerned about my childrens early development as I was. I went to all the classes, talked to all the counselors. I think I know the profile that you are referring to. The loner kid - not socializing. People would catch the boy trapping small animals - torturing them to death. He would become unable to feel remorse or guilt. The kid would grow up a sociopath who considered himself different - better than the rest of humanity. I was aware of that risk."

"And your son - did he ever do anything like that? Torture animals, I mean...?"

Diane shook her head and her face took on the smile that mothers faces get when they are remembering the good old years. "Anything but. Max would collect damaged animals - nurse them back to health. He was always finding some wild rabbit with a hurt paw or something that he'd bring home - or a desert box turtle that looked a little under the weather. He'd keep it in a cage for awhile - and it'd get better and he'd eventually let it go."

"But he never tortured them - caused them pain?"

Diane shook her head and seemed to blink back tears. "Let me tell you about the only time Max ever disobeyed me, Jaime. The only time in all these years that I ever raised my voice to my son. He was nine years old and he'd found a roadrunner that had been hit by a car. He had gotten it home in his little animal hospital out in the back yard - but the bird had an obviously broken wing. I told him that we ought to put it out of its misery and he argued with me. He said it was a female and had to get back to its eggs. That in a little while it would be OK. But I looked at the bird and I knew better. So I called the veterinarian - just to make sure. He said that a roadrunner with a broken wing wasn't going to get better - at least not much. Even if it healed, the bird could never fly. It would be a cripple in the desert - picked off by the first coyote or other predator that found it. Besides, wing breaks were very painful. It would be better - more humane - if the bird were put down. I went and found Max - told him to go get the bird - that we were taking it to the veterinarian - that it needed to be put out of its misery.

Max started to cry - he shook his head - he said we couldn't do that. That the roadrunner's mate was back on the nest taking care of the eggs waiting for it - that the eggs would die without their mother. They do that - you know? I found that out later - looked it up in a book on southwest ornithology. They mate for life, and they take turns sitting on the eggs. I didn't know that then - didn't know anything except that the bird was in pain and my son cared too much about his hobby to have the empathy he ought to have for even something of another species."

"Well, kids are sort of self-centered - but that's very different from the sort of abusive sociopathic profile you were referring to."

"I know, but it was the first time that Max had ever argued with me - damn near the only time until this came up. And he wouldn't give it up. I'd been a mother at that time for all of three years and things had started going well - I really had deluded myself into thinking I had this mommy business all figured out....." Diane shook her head, the tears starting to streak her cheeks, "... I told him that we needed to put the bird out of its misery. That it would never be well - that it could never survive back in the wild and that its mate would just have to get by without it. I told him that it would be inhuman - that it would be monstrous to not take the bird to the vet. Max acted like I'd hit him in the face."

"And he continued to argue?"

"No, Jaime - Max simply disobeyed me. He got the roadrunner from its cage - but instead of bringing it to the car he ran out of the back yard toward the desert. I got in the car and went after him - he wasn't all thatfast then - his legs weren't all that long," said Diane, wiping her tears with a napkin from the table. I caught him at the edge of the desert and - I was so upset with him I asked - demanded - that he give me the roadrunner. "

"Did he?"

"No, he had tears in his eyes as he shook his head at me and turned his back. He tossed the bird up in the desert sky."

"He was only a kid. I'm sure it wasn't meant to be cruel. Did you go get the roadrunner - or did you make Max do it?"

"Neither, The bird flew away."

"Flew away? You don't mean you think your son somehow healed it?"

"No - that would be silly. But the point is Agent Sanchez - Jaime - the point is that the one time I was ever really upset with Max before this thing with Liz came up the one time I got angry and lost it and said things to Max that obviously hurt him - I was wrong.
No, I don't think Max has some magical power that healed that bird or that's going to heal Liz Parker, clearly I misdiagnosed the problems with that roadrunner - it's wing couldn't have been broken - but I expect Izzy's right - Max is with Liz and he's taking care of her - not trying to hurt her or take advantage of her.
I understand how the Parkers feel - I've lost my son too. I want him back just like I'm sure they want Liz back and I'll do what I can to help make that happen. Just keep your partner away from me - and my daughter - that's all I ask."

"I'll try to make that happen, ma'am. And ma'am, for what it's worth - Mr. Rothstein indicated that he understood about your son's early childhood - that he'd been in counseling over this. He doesn't want to make a fed.... well, it's a federal case by definition but - well, you understand. If we can just get the girl back alive - I don't think he'd want anything more than to make sure your son got treatment. Even if the worst happened - I think he'd be inclined to make allowances - and I'll let him know that you are cooperating. I'm sure he'll go as easy as he can on your son."

"Bernie is a good guy - but he'll do his job. If Max has done this I'm sure he'll try to give my son the benefit of the doubt, but he's bound by his oath. I'm bound by the memory of being absolutely wrong the one time that I really thought badly of Max. I won't make that mistake again. I'm his mother - even if he still has a few doubts about that. I'm going to cooperate - but I'm going to assume that my son is doing this for what he feels is a good reason, Jaime. Whatever you think, my son is no sociopathic monster. He's every bit as loving and as human as any of the rest of us - maybe more so. Probably more so than your partner."

Jaime could only shake his head. He wasn't going to argue with the lady on that point.

"Well, could you tell me about his friends ... the places he usually hangs out ... who might give him assistance?"

The discussion would go on for another hour and Jaime would get a lot of background material but in the end he didn't have a clue where the boy could have gone. He checked with the Sheriff's office - they had searchers out throughout the area. Nothing... nada... zilch.

It was like the ground had opened up and swallowed Max Evans and Liz Parker.