Roswell Fanatics

Liz should know you can't escape the alien world once you enter.

keepsmiling7: Hanson was quite the Eager Beaver, wasn't he? It was cute at first, but long past annoying by the time we got to OTM.

emerald123 wrote:I've been home on sick leave due to a chronic foot problem--with cast and crutches, which I really HATE!

Oh, no! I'm so sorry. I'm glad Maria and LIz could cheer you up!

Roswelllostcause wrote:Liz should know you can't escape the alien world once you enter.

How true. I think this was the first time Liz really tried to escape the alien abyss...and learned she couldn't!


Back in a bit.

Hello to everyone reading!






CHAPTER TEN



September 5, 12:05 a.m.

UFO Center, Roswell





Courtney waited patiently as two people stared at her, one with interest, the other fury. True, she hadn't been invited to this particular get-together. But having seen the date and time scribbled in Antarian on the new museum owner's invoice with him completely unaware, she just couldn't stay away. She hadn't spoken to anyone from home in years, so the chance to do so now was a chance she wasn't willing to pass up even if it did mean pissing off a Royal Warder, not to mention a Royal Warder who had strongly hinted he planned to save her life. Actually she'd only been planning to eavesdrop, but that had all gone out the window when she'd heard the transfer speak. She'd met several transfers and two things were clear, the first being that this was a transfer; only someone fluent in whatever languages Brivari had used could have followed his intricate instructions about how to rearrange the comment cards. The second was that this was no ordinary messenger—he and Brivari had history. That alone made it worth any temporary angst her presence might cause.

"So," Courtney said finally, "does this quality as a Mexican stand-off?"

"Couldn't say," the transfer allowed, "although I'm fairly certain none of us qualifies as a Mexican. Is that a species?"

"Nationality," Courtney corrected. "You new at this?"

"Not even remotely," the transfer sighed, "but I don't get out much. Given that he hasn't killed you yet, I'm guessing you're Resistance?"

"You're guessing right," Courtney said. "Which planet are you from?"

"Will you drop the chitchat and answer my question?" Brivari broke in furiously. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Don't mind him," Courtney advised the transfer. "He's just pissed because he missed me."

"I did not 'miss you'," Brivari huffed. "Obviously you arrived after my sweep."

"Wrong-O, Warder Boy," Courtney grinned. "You missed me. Or was that someone else who spent all that time sniffing around the potties?"

If Warders could blush, this one did. "Stalls must be checked," he said tartly. "Clearly I didn't check thoroughly enough."

"Nah, you did," Courtney said breezily. "I wasn't in the bathroom."

"Then where were you?" Brivari demanded.

"So you did miss me! Tsk Tsk," Courtney teased, waving a finger. "Bad Warder! Missing a hidden Argilian won't look good on your performance review."

"I don't have 'performance reviews'," Brivari retorted.

"Oh. Sorry," Courtney shrugged. "I had mine recently, so they're on my mind. Do you lose fewer points because you missed an ally instead of an enemy?"

"Are you finished?" Brivari demanded.

"Heck, no!" Courtney crowed. "I ditched you! Ditched you! Do you have any idea how hard that is? I had to stop breathing for, like, minutes! No way did I think it was gonna work, and I'm still not sure why it did."

"Nor am I," Brivari muttered.

"You could practice," the transfer suggested. "She could hide, and you could try to find her...what do the humans call it? Hide and Seek?"

"Do you mind?" Brivari thundered.

Far from being frightened by an angry Royal Warder, the transfer actually smiled. "Someone's grumpy," he remarked casually to Courtney. "But I suppose we've had our fun. Sorry," he added to Brivari. "Well, not completely, but..."

The sentence trailed off as the transfer smiled, Brivari scowled, and Courtney stared at him in shock. "Who are you?" she demanded.

"Ladies first," the transfer said.

"No, transfers first," Courtney said firmly. "That's the way it works. If you've been around as long as you say you have, you should know that."

"As I mentioned, I don't get out much," the transfer said. "This is the first time I've had to identify to anyone, so I'm a bit behind on the etiquette."

"The first time?" Courtney said in surprise. "Okay, you identify first because you're the one wearing a human body."

"And you're the one wearing a human skin," the transfer replied. "I'd call us even."

Courtney shook her head. "Wrong. Brivari and I already know each other."

"More's the pity," Brivari muttered.

"No, seriously, who are you?" Courtney persisted. "No one needles a Royal Warder."

"You just did," the transfer noted.

"And you have no idea how long it took me to get there," Courtney said.

"Not long enough, apparently," Brivari said sourly.

"The only other person who can do that is Dee," Courtney continued, ignoring him, "and the first time she did, I was positive you were going to kill her."

"The first time she did that, she was only 8," Brivari said, "and we needed her. Not to mention that executing a child seemed..."

"Childish?" suggested the transfer.

"See, there it is again!" Courtney exclaimed. "Seriously, who are you?"

"I still don't know who you are," the transfer pointed out.

Courtney smiled faintly. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

The transfer burst out laughing, proof that he'd picked up at least a few human idioms even if he didn't get out much. "Shall we put her out of her misery?" he asked Brivari, who was still sulking.

"No," Brivari said darkly. "I'm enjoying her misery."

"Then perhaps you'd put me out of mine," the transfer said. "Unless you're still deciding if I am who I say I am."

"If you're still not convinced he's not wearing a husk, I can tell you he's not," Courtney said. "I know you already checked, and the seal is only ever in one place. We tried putting them in dozens of different places—the armpit, the mouth, body cavities—"

"Awkward," murmured the transfer.

"—but it never worked. If it's not where mine is, he's legit."

"Thank you," the transfer said. "Brivari?"

"I'd already decided," Brivari said irritably, giving her an annoyed look. "I just didn't want to be rushed." He paused. "This is Courtney, the current leader of the Resistance, having risen to the position after her father died."

The mood in the room turned suddenly serious, all teasing gone. "Oh, my," the transfer said soberly. "My condolences for your loss."

"Thank you," Courtney said quietly. "It was a long time ago."

The transfer shook his head. "Doesn't matter. One never really recovers from a loss like that, does one?"

"No," Courtney agreed. "They don't. And once again, you don't sound like the typical messenger boy."

"Because he's not," Brivari said sharply. "Have a little respect."

"Respect for who?" Courtney demanded. "He knows who I am. Who is this?"

"Larak," the transfer said with a slight bow, "at your service."

Courtney's mouth fell open. "Larak?" she repeated incredulously. "You mean...you mean the Larak?"

"Of course, 'the' Larak," Brivari said crossly. "Who else would he mean?"

"Is there more than one?" Larak asked dryly.

Courtney stared at him in shock. Larak was the leader of Kerona, one of Antar's four sister planets, the equivalent of its king although he used a different title. To have him show up here, in the pokey little UFO Museum, was like finding the President of the United States cleaning public toilets. Not to mention...

"Are you crazy?" Courtney exclaimed. "You must be crazy! How long have you been doing this? Do you have any idea how dangerous this is?"

"Calm down," Brivari ordered.

"Let's see...in order, that would be 'no', 'not', 'about 25 years', and 'hell, yes'," Larak answered.

"I know how this works," Courtney persisted. "You're defenseless. Your body is—"

"Quite safe," Larak broke in, "because, you see, I know how this works."

"He has the resources to ensure his safety," Brivari said.

"So did the others, supposedly," Courtney scoffed. "They were all 'protected' by their sponsors, or so they thought before they were killed mid-transfer."

"Yes, well, the quality of protection always rises when one is protecting oneself, doesn't it?" Larak said. "And the biggest factor protecting me is the reaction you just had, which would be the same reaction anyone wishing to assassinate me would have—it's so very unlikely that I would transfer myself instead of sending an envoy that most wouldn't even consider the possibility. The list of those who know I do this is so small that finding a traitor, should there be one, would not be problematic. Keeps people honest."

"How so?" Courtney demanded. "If the list is so small, it wouldn't be 'problematic' for said traitor to kill the rest of those on the list, and you'd still wind up dead."

Larak looked at Brivari. "She's good," he observed.

"One of the many reasons I put up with her," Brivari answered.

"Allow me to expand your list," Courtney retorted. "While you were off gallivanting in Washington—"

"You 'gallivant'?" Larak said innocently.

"—Vanessa showed up," Courtney went on as Brivari scowled at Larak. "She—"

"I heard," Brivari broke in, "about finding Pierce's body and the resulting drama. A human alien hunter," he added to Larak. "Briefly got his hands on the king, but now dead."

"A dead alien hunter," Larak remarked. "The best kind."

"Yeah, well, he's plenty dangerous even dead," Courtney said. "The sheriff is digging up the bones, and I followed Rath out to the excavation site—"

"Relax," Brivari said. "We'll get him out of jail—"

"Rath is in jail?" Courtney said in astonishment. "They put him in jail over that knife?"

"No, they put him in jail because they found radioactive changes to Pierce's bones," Brivari corrected. "We'll sort it out; I promise."

"It gets worse," Courtney said. "Vanessa's here, as in here here. As in moving to town and setting up an office."

Brivari paused. "She set up an office?"

"Yes!" Courtney exclaimed. "Right down the street from the Crashdown! I can't go to work because I can't let her see me."

"That won't fly," Brivari said. "You have to go back to work. Change your appearance, maybe a different hairstyle or eye color—"

"And you think that will fly?" Courtney said incredulously. "With Vanessa? Don't you get it—she knows something! Nothing else would induce her to up stakes and plop down in Warder Land. She'd have to have pretty compelling information to take that kind of risk, and if I were you, I'd be losing sleep over what that information is. Hell, I'm not you, and I'm still losing sleep over it."

"Is this 'Vanessa' who I think it is?" Larak asked. "As in Athenor's paramour?"

"The same," Brivari said darkly. "He goes by 'Nicholas' here."

"I heard," Larak said. "Child's husk, sexual organs disabled...inventive. I had to give Khivar credit for that particular bit of discipline. But I agree with Courtney. If Vanessa has established a presence here, she's much too close to something, probably identifying the Royal Four."

"Or Jaddo," Brivari said. "Jaddo has been impersonating that dead alien hunter. And Pierce and Vanessa were lovers."

Larak's eyebrows rose. "Interesting. And how was that working?"

"Just fine, until he got it in his head to make a fool of her," Brivari sighed. "I told him not to do it. I told him it would backfire."

"As I recall, he wasn't much of one for conversation," Larak remarked. "If she's sussed him out, he's in trouble."

"I don't think she knows where he is," Courtney said. "It's all over the news that 'Pierce' pretty much disappeared after the hearings."

"He did," Brivari said heavily. "But Zan was sufficiently alarmed by Rath's imprisonment to order Jaddo back to Roswell, and because it was an order, he couldn't refuse. He'll be here tomorrow."

Courtney sank wearily into a chair. "Shit."




*****************************************************





Congresswoman Whitaker's Office,

Roswell




"Pretty exciting day, huh?" Rose said, plopping yet another stack of papers on the desk. "Bones, and coroners, and sheriffs, oh my!"

"Yeah," Vanessa agreed tonelessly. "Oh my." She paused. "How's the new intern working out?"

"Great!" Rose exclaimed. "Smart, dependable, hard-working—maybe a little too hard-working, but hey, better to lean that way than the other."

"She had a friend here today?"

"That wasn't what it looked like," Rose said. "That was a waitress from the Crashdown delivering my lunch, and Liz knew her. Her parents own the diner, and she worked there herself before she started here."

Vanessa's fingers tapped on the desk blotter. "So no teenage confabs? Anyone else come visit? Maybe a boyfriend?"

Rose shook her head. "Nope. No one."

"Mmm."

"Is there...something I should know?" Rose asked. "Some problem with Parker—"

"No," Vanessa said quickly. "You know how teens can be sometimes. Flighty. Social. Inappropriate."

"This one's none of those," Rose declared. "She's better than some adults I've worked with. Maybe most."

"Good to know," Vanessa smiled. "Go home, Rose. You must be tired."

"You must be too," Rose said. "And besides, what's the rush to go 'home' to a hotel room?"

"I hear you," Vanessa allowed, "but we're no good to anyone if we fall face first onto our desks. Get some sleep. We'll need to be sharp for tomorrow."

Vanessa waited until Rose's car had pulled away from the curb before retrieving the bottle of whiskey she kept in a desk drawer and pouring herself a drink. What the hell was she doing here? Why was she drinking alone in a dark, messy office, chasing a phantom which may not be there? Because I'm pissed, she thought darkly, swirling the whiskey in her glass. Because I was had. Because I was used. Because...

Her phone rang. Because I need redemption, she thought, groaning when she saw the number. She'd managed to put this off so far, but she couldn't put it off forever. "I'm here," she sighed into the phone.

"You're also dodging," Nicholas' petulant voice said.

"I'm not dodging, I'm busy."

"Yeah, busy setting up an office in the middle of nowhere."

"Roswell is hardly the 'middle of nowhere'," Vanessa countered. "And I'm renowned for my pop-up offices. It's my trademark, and a useful way to cover moving to an area of interest."

"We've already been 'interested'," Nicholas snapped. "And then we got uninterested when they left. No way would they have stayed after activating a communicator. Explain to me why Roswell's suddenly interesting in the wake of your public humiliation."

"Roswell is interesting because of my 'public humiliation'," Vanessa argued. "I learned—"

"He used you," Nicholas interrupted bluntly. " 'I've got this', you said. 'He's starting to trust me', you said. 'We're finally getting somewhere', you said. So much for that."

"If you'd just let me finish—"

"You've been fucking this guy for years, and you still haven't a thing to show for it! I'm thinking this whole thing needs a fresh pair of eyes."

"No!" Vanessa exclaimed. "This is my gig! And I was getting somewhere, and something derailed me. Someone got to him. Now I need to find out who."

"Seriously? Vanessa, sweetie, I've got a little secret for you," Nicholas said. "Men are pigs, on every planet; I should know. And that's how I know this one played you like a fiddle. Jesus, do I have to tell you everything?"

"Think about it," Vanessa ordered. "Why would he want me to bring up cadmium-X when he was planning on denying its existence? He shot himself in the foot, Nicholas. He committed suicide. And why would he do that? Because he wants to go underground, that's why. He'll never be allowed back inside a Bureau Unit, so the only way to maintain control of it was to kill it and start another. Jesus, do I have to tell you everything?"

"Is that what he told you?" Nicholas chortled. "And you bought it? My God, you really do believe anything you hear!"

"No, his closest associate told me," Vanessa retorted. "Don't you get it? I'm in! Once he emerges...and I whup his ass for hanging me out to dry...I'll have access to any new Unit he starts, and—"

"And nothing," Nicholas declared. "He played you. I don't care what he told you, or his lackey told you, or your horoscope told you—he played you. I'm a champion player, and I know played when I see it. Come home."

"I'm not going anywhere," Vanessa declared. "I started this, and I'm going to finish it. This was the last place Daniel was before the shit hit the fan and something happened here, something which changed him. I'm going to find out what."

"This sounds like a bad soap opera," Nicholas muttered.

"Not to mention that some geologist just found a skeleton buried in the desert belonging to someone who was obviously killed by a Warder," Vanessa added, playing her trump card. "Or a hybrid."

There was a pause. "Was this recent?"

"Don't know yet," Vanessa answered. "But I'd like to. Wouldn't you?"

Another pause, longer this time. "Find out," Nicholas ordered, as though it was his idea. "And don't get too comfy there. We're not spending one more iota of our resources chasing Danny Boy, no matter how much you like fucking him."

The line went dead. Vanessa let out a long, slow breath as she tossed her phone on the desk and took a deep gulp of whiskey. It was no use going into that other development, that tidbit dropped by Agent Samuels about the miraculously healed waitress. If Nicholas thought she was nuts now, what would he think if she told him she was entertaining the notion that the hybrids were not only here, but teenagers? It sounded preposterous, but that neatly explained why so many years had passed without a peep from them. It even explained the signal last spring; no Warder would be foolish enough to activate a communicator where they could intercept it, but a wandering hybrid would. She'd observed the kid Valenti had just arrested with great interest, but he was little more than a common hood, hardly hybrid material. But she had the waitress working in her office, so if she could just hold out long enough, she should be able to learn something. Imagine being the one who found Khivar's precious princess! Nicholas would take credit, of course, but she had ways of letting Khivar know exactly where to aim his gratitude, especially since he wouldn't want to reward Nicholas given that he blamed him for Vilandra's death. She'd bought herself a reprieve to keep looking, but she needed to look harder...

Vanessa stared at her phone. Should she? Heck, why not. After all, she'd told Valenti she'd consult with the FBI. She just hadn't said how.

"Agent Samuels? Vanessa Whitaker."

Samuels voice was taut and guarded. "I already told you, I can't tell you where he is—"

"I'm not calling to find out where Daniel is," Vanessa interrupted. "I know you can't tell me, and I know why. I'm calling because of something you said yesterday, a rare moment of rapport between us."

" 'Rapport'?"

"Yes, 'rapport'," Vanessa replied, smiling faintly; maybe he needed a dictionary. "We both seemed to be in agreement that Daniel's changed since he came back from Roswell. I know why I feel that way; now I want to know what makes you feel that way. What did he do or say that would make you say that?"

"If you're trying to find out why we were there, that's classified," Samuels answered. "I can't tell you—"

"I know you can't," Vanessa said soothingly, grateful for the telephone link which kept her from strangling him. "I understand that. I...got a little emotional yesterday. I apologize. You were only protecting him, which is what I want also. We're on the same page more than either of us might think, Agent Samuels, so if we've both noticed that Daniel is behaving strangely, we should put our heads together and do something about it."

There followed a very long pause. Vanessa forced herself to maintain silence, placing the burden of lifting it on Samuels and privately muttering that there was no way he was getting a bigger apology than that when he deserved none at all. The seconds ticked by in the dark office, feeling like minutes.

"I can't give you details about our assignment," Samuels said finally, "but Danny was doing some strange things. Like ordering all of us out to a gas station outside town until he came to collect us, and then not telling us why."

"He may have had his reasons," Vanessa noted.

"Maybe," Samuels allowed. "But then he went on a spending spree right before we came back. Ferragamo shoes, Brioni suits, high-end threads all the way. And he flew first class back to Washington and left the rest of us stuck back in coach."

"Sounds like a mid-life crisis," Vanessa remarked, breathing easier. None of this sounded threatening, more like a man who'd been disappointed, which he'd already admitted.

"Maybe," Samuels said doubtfully. "But the weirdest part was when we got back to Washington. We'd just hit the terminal, and when I saw you, I said, 'There's Vanessa', and he said, 'Who?' "

Vanessa's hand froze on her glass. "What?"

"He didn't seem to know you for a moment," Samuels said. "And then I said, 'You know, Vanessa? Your girlfriend?' And then it was gone, and he just laughed."

" 'Girlfriend'?" Vanessa said with a brittle laugh. "I'm a little past 'girlfriend'. Or at least I hope so. And he certainly seemed to know me on the way home, but I'll spare you the details."

"Please do," Samuels said darkly. "My point is that for a minute there, it was if he didn't know you. But I learned later that Freeh had just fired him via phone on the way off the plane, so maybe that was it."

"Maybe," Vanessa agreed. "Anything else?"

"Only that he gave you classified information right before the hearings," Samuels said disapprovingly. "But then at the actual hearings, I realized why. Now we're free to start another Unit, a real Unit, the way it used to be. I'd say he's back to his old self."

"Good to know," Vanessa said. "Thank you, Agent Samuels. I appreciate your candor. If you see Daniel, please tell him I'm thinking of him."

"Thinking of killing him?" Samuels said dryly.

"I won't pretend to be thrilled with his stunt," Vanessa allowed, "but you explained the reasoning behind it. I'll settle for maiming."

"I'll let him know," Samuels promised.

Vanessa hung up, tossed the phone on her desk, and downed the rest of her drink in one gulp, a good half glass. Now it was clear what had happened. She should have thought of this before. They got to you, Daniel, she thought darkly. And we'll have to do something about that.




*****************************************************




September 6, 9:00 a.m.

Crashdown Cafe





I give up, Liz sighed, rolling over in bed as the sound of clinking dishes floated up the stairs. It was faint, to be sure, but every single time another clink! hit her ears, she woke up a little more. What was wrong with her? When she'd waited tables, she could have slept through a tsunami of customers; now that she wasn't, every little noise reached her ears awake or asleep. She didn't need to be at the office until noon and had been looking forward to sleeping in, but it was not to be; might as well put her wakefulness and this sunny morning to good use. Thirty minutes later, she headed downstairs, nearly colliding with Maria, whose arms were laden with dirty plates.

"Hey," Liz said awkwardly. "Nice day."

"Liz, I promise you there is nothing 'nice' about a day when Michael is in jail," Maria said tartly. "And seriously? 'Nice day?' You're so short on conversation starters that you're reaching for the weather? Is someone feeling a bit guilty?"

Liz blinked at the barrage. "Uh...no, but—"

"Because you should be," Maria went on. "I can't believe that you'd just leave him there and not lift a finger to help him."

Liz gaped at her while Maria stacked dishes so furiously, it was a wonder they didn't break. Diner noise may have awakened her, but truth be told, she'd hadn't been sleeping well anyway, and this was why. "I'm not trying to 'leave him there'," she said desperately. "I just..."

"Just what?" Maria demanded. "Just trying to leave him there?"

Liz swallowed hard. "I'm just afraid that if I start this again, I won't be able to stop."

"Of course you 'won't stop'," Maria said. "You love Max, and you know it. You don't want to stop. You were the one who told me that, and it's as true now as it was then. Michael shouldn't have to rot in jail—or worse—because you don't want to stop. That's just—"

"Maria—"

"Selfish," Maria finished flatly. "Excuse me. I have tables."

Stricken, Liz watched Maria stalk off only moments before her father's voice floated around the corner. "I just don't understand," her dad was saying. "What does Michael have to do with this?"

Liz crept forward and peeked around the corner; her father and Sheriff Valenti were standing near the back door, and neither looked happy. "Frankly, Jeff, I don't think he has anything to do with it," Valenti answered. "But I have to follow procedure."

"But it sounds like all you've got is a knife," her father protested. "That's it? Just drop something, and you're in trouble?"

"Drop it near a body, and yes, you are," Valenti replied. "I agree this is all circumstantial, but until we have an ID on those bones, I'm afraid 'circumstantial' rules the day. It wouldn't get him convicted, but it can get him arrested until we have more information."

Convicted. Liz bit her lip as her father continued to argue, unaware that Michael's worst nightmare wasn't getting convicted. Plenty of awful things could happen to him with no conviction, no trial, no charges at all.

"I'm short a cook," her father complained. "How long is this going to take?"

"If it were just me, no time at all," Valenti sighed. "He wouldn't even be there. But I'm not the one driving this, Jeff. It's Congresswoman Whitaker who's pounced on this like a duck on a Junebug. I'm guessing she's pissed about being shown up during those congressional hearings, and wants to make herself look credible again."

"Then tell her to go make herself look credible somewhere else," Jeff said crossly. "I need my cook!"

"It's not that simple," Valenti said patiently. "She's pulled the FBI in on this, and the last thing I want to do is piss off the Feds. I'll let you know just as soon as I hear anything." He donned his hat, his eyes settling on her. "Miss Parker, Mr. Parker...I'll try to end this as soon as I can."

Which won't be very soon, Liz thought, her heart beating rapidly. She's pulled the FBI in on this... So it didn't matter what they found or didn't find on the bones—Whitaker had already contacted the FBI. And even though the Special Unit was officially disbanded, everyone who knew aliens were real was still there...

"Can you believe this?" her dad was saying furiously. "They've arrested Michael over some old bones dug up in the desert! And it sounds like your new boss is the one spearheading the witch hunt. Sorry, Lizzie," he amended gruffly when he saw the look on her face. "It's not your fault. I'm just annoyed."

"It's okay, Dad," Liz assured him.

"We need to fight this," Jeff declared. "I'll hit the phones and see what I can do. Maybe your mother can play cook for a bit until we can rustle up another one..."

He walked off still talking, and Liz watched him go with a heavy heart, knowing that all the phone calls in the world weren't going to turn this one around. I'm stuck, she realized. She was going to have to get involved, and if she did, if she allowed herself to be sucked into the vortex again, she wouldn't be able to stay away from Max because Maria was right—she loved him. Being away from him all summer had done nothing but drive that point home. Trying to stay away from him had been her attempt at circumventing that realization. And it might have worked, had not fate intervened once more.

A minute later, Liz found Maria. "Okay. I'll do it."

"You'll do what?" Maria asked tonelessly, not looking at her.

"I'll spy," Liz answered. "I'll find out whatever I can from Whitaker's office."

Maria swung hard eyes her way. "Why?" she demanded.

"What do you mean, 'why'?" Liz said, taken aback. "Isn't this what you wanted?"

"Yes, but only if you mean it," Maria answered. "Five minutes ago you were all, 'I don't want to get sucked in again'. What changed?"

"I overheard my father and Valenti talking," Liz said. "Valenti said Whitaker called the FBI."

Maria's eyes grew round. "Already?"

"So tell Max I'm in," Liz went on. "Ask him what he wants me to start with, and I'll look today when I...what?" she said when Maria shook her head. " 'No', what?"

"Tell Max yourself," Maria said. "He's out in the cafe."

"He...he is?"

"Yes. I'm done being your messenger girl. If you really mean it, go tell him yourself."

Liz's heart sank when Maria walked away without another word. She doesn't believe me, she thought sadly. Maria wanted proof, and in order to give her that, she would have to do the one thing she'd thought she could avoid: Talk to Max. Here she thought she'd just convey anything she learned via Maria, but apparently not, and there was no backing out of it now. Her heart in her throat, she pushed through the swinging door into the cafe. What would she say to him?

Make that "them". Not just Max, but Isabel and Tess were huddled in a booth, heads bent over various drinks, talking earnestly. Great, Liz thought heavily. Her humiliation would be witnessed by an audience. This just got better and better.

"What do you want?" Isabel said bluntly when she hesitantly approached their table.

Max looked startled, but recovered quickly. "Hi."

Tess didn't say anything, but she didn't look angry. Why did she have to be here? This was hard enough as it was. "Uh...Maria told me about...you know, about what happened to Michael," Liz said haltingly.

"Yeah," Isabel said stonily. "We heard."

Liz stiffened at the hostility, but the one good thing about it was that it made it easier to look at Max, which she did now, ignoring the other two. "I just wanted to tell you that I'll help. With Whitaker, I mean."

The hopeful look on Max's face was heartbreaking. "You will?"

"Liz, that's great," Tess said with a pointed look at Isabel, whose eyes dropped.

"So...I'll be going to Whitaker's office this afternoon," Liz went on. "What do you need?"

"I'm not sure yet," Max answered.

"Nasedo's coming back today," Tess explained. "He'll be able to point us in the right direction."

"But you don't have to see him," Max added quickly. "We'll talk to him, and then I'll let you—"

"No," Liz broke in. "I'll be there. When is this?"

"Liz, you don't have to," Max said.

"Yeah, no one would blame you for not wanting to see him again after what he did to you," Tess added.

Liz managed a small smile. "He doesn't scare me. Not much would after what he pulled, so he has himself to thank for that. Just tell me when and where, and I'll be there."



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


I'll post Chapter 11 on Sunday, July 20.

Great part,
Courtney was in shock over Larek's ownership of the "pokey little UFO museum".
We could all understand it if Liz wasn't anxious to see Nasedo again, but she was willing to help Max and the gang.
Looking forward to the next part,
Carolyn

Great chapter. I realize that Liz didn't want to get in sucked in again, but I was surprised that she didn't want to help. I was kind of shocked at Maria's attitude; I thought that she might be more understanding re: Liz's point of view.

Liz welcome back to the alien abyss. Remember here is no way out as long as you are alive.

Hello, everyone! Thanks for reading, and thanks especially for the feedback! emerald123, my explanation for Liz's behavior was that she really did want to help, but was trying to talk herself out of it, kind of like she really did love Max, but was trying to talk herself out of it. As for Maria, she pushed back against Liz's attempts to disconnect even when Michael wasn't in jail, but with him in jail...well, let's just say that nobody messes with Michael except Maria. Or at least that was my take on that pair. Candies, please weigh in!





CHAPTER ELEVEN



September 6, 2000, 9 a.m.

Roswell International Airport




"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Roswell," the flight attendant's voice intoned. "Please remain seated with your seat belt fastened until the captain has turned off the seat belt sign. If you have baggage to collect, you can find it at Carousel 3. Thank you for flying American Airlines, and enjoy your stay in sunny New Mexico."

Jaddo gazed out the window at "sunny New Mexico" and wondered all over again what foul finger of fate had deposited them here, in a barren desert climate that more closely resembled an oven than "sunny" anything. Logically, he knew the answer; they'd been aiming for the nearby mountains and hadn't quite made it. At times like these, however, it felt more like an unseen hand had slapped them down hard. If fate existed, it was more of a bitch than anyone knew.

"You shouldn't do that," a disapproving voice said.

Jaddo's head swung around to the passenger across the aisle, a squat middle-aged woman with a hairy upper lip set in a thin line. "I shouldn't do what?"

"Unbuckle your seat belt," the woman answered primly. "The seat belt sign is still on."

"Why, so it is," Jaddo said. "You can read!"

The glare she gave him would have frozen boiling water if he cared...but he didn't. The seat belt sign abruptly clicked off, and the plane rose as one, including Jaddo. "Have a nice day," he told the scowling woman, glancing at her seat belt as he joined the throng in the aisle. He'd only moved up one row when he heard it.

"I can't get it open," a frantic voice said. "It won't open. It won't open!"

Serves you right, Jaddo thought with satisfaction, pushing past the milling humans craning their necks to see what was the matter. He was first off the plane and first to hit the terminal, where a row of taxi drivers holding cards with various names were arrayed, including one which briefly flashed from "Smith" to "disgraced FBI agents" in the hands of a driver who bore a faint infrared signature.

"Need a ride?" Brivari asked innocently.

"Hilarious," Jaddo deadpanned. "Please tell me you haven't gone and done something stupid."

"Isn't that my line?" Brivari said.

"It's not my fault," Jaddo said peevishly. " It wasn't my idea to come back here. I had no idea—"

"Relax," Brivari advised, holding up a hand. "I get it. The king gave you an order, and you couldn't refuse." He paused as a harried flight attendant hurried off the jetway and began an earnest conversation with the gate agent.

"We're going to need a knife, or something," she was saying. "Her seat belt buckle looks like it melted."

"Melted?" the gate agent said quizzically. "How on earth would that happen?"

"Let me guess," Brivari said. "That one is your fault."

"She had it coming," Jaddo said darkly. "Busybody. It's bad enough getting yanked back here without the seat belt police making it worse."

"I thought you didn't want to leave," Brivari remarked.

"I didn't want to be told to leave," Jaddo corrected. "Just like I didn't want to be told to return. I hate this."

"I'm not exactly thrilled about it," Brivari allowed.

"That's not what I meant. I hate..." Jaddo paused. "I'm not used to this," he confided. "I saw the king a fair bit back home, but had little actual contact with him. I'm not accustomed to being...compelled."

"Someone's been watching vampire flicks," Brivari chuckled.

"I'm serious," Jaddo insisted. "I actually found myself praying the plane would be canceled or at least delayed, and then wondering what would happen if it were. Would I have to commit hari kari if I was prevented from obeying his order?"

"It must be serious if you found yourself 'praying'," Brivari said. "Either that, or hell just froze over. And no, you wouldn't self harm or anything else unless the order specifically contained instructions to do so. If something prevents you from following an order, you just can't follow it. If your plane had been delayed, you would have booked the next available flight, that's all. This was designed as a fail-safe for wayward Covari, not a punitive measure."

"Whatever it was 'designed as', it's now a pain in the ass," Jaddo grumbled. "Are you sure we can't turn it off?"

"I'm sure," Brivari sighed. "He has to agree to not use it. If I thought he'd do that, I'd tell him the score right this minute...but I don't think he will. He may want to, but he lacks the necessary maturity and restraint to pull it off, and would likely wind up abusing the privilege. Silence is still our best option, albeit a weak one."

"Wonderful," Jaddo muttered. "So why am I here, exactly? What's my Ward doing in Valenti's jail? I thought he was an ally."

"He is," Brivari said. "Valenti's not the one driving this. That would be Vanessa."

"Vanessa?" Jaddo said sharply. "Do you mean my Vanessa?"

"Now I'm certain hell's frozen over," Brivari said dryly. "First you're praying, now it's 'my' Vanessa? Yes, 'your' Vanessa. She's here. As in Roswell. As in moved in and set up housekeeping. She's erected one of her 'pop-up offices' and hired the Parker girl as an intern. Interesting choice, don't you think?"

Jaddo's eyes narrowed. "Does she know that 'Michael' is Rath?"

"Doesn't appear to," Brivari answered, "but Courtney is convinced she knows something she's not supposed to, and Courtney would know."

"Then she has to go," Jaddo declared. "Where is this office of hers?"

"One thing at a time," Brivari counseled. "You have an appointment with the king."

Jaddo thought for a moment. "No, I actually don't. All he ordered me to do was return immediately, and I've done that. He didn't order me to go directly to him when I got here. At this point, I have no orders."

"No, you have common sense," Brivari said. "The king summoned you, so of course he wishes to see you."

"Is this the same king you just said lacked maturity and restraint?"

"Yes," Brivari said patiently, "but it's worth noting that he summoned you with good reason and only when the situation became dire, although he doesn't realize just how dire because he doesn't know Vanessa is an enemy. According to bits and pieces Courtney overheard, Zan resisted Rath's entreaties to contact you until the arrest was made. In this particular case, he did show restraint and responded appropriately once things escalated. We should reward that behavior."

"Brivari, Vanessa has to go!" Jaddo exclaimed. "She—"

"Will be taken care of," Brivari finished. "By me. I don't want you anywhere near her. What if it's your identity that she's discovered?"

"Impossible," Jaddo scoffed. "I would have known."

"Not if she's figured it out since the hearing, where you shot her in the back. I'll remove her," Brivari promised, "but carefully. The last thing we need is to have Nicholas and company descend upon Roswell. Now, let's get you to the Crashdown."

"Brivari—"

"You're the only Warder they know," Brivari interrupted firmly. "We need to re-acquaint the king with his Warders and how that relationship works."

"Fine, then reacquaint him with his Warder," Jaddo said crossly. "Why me?"

"Because we agreed that one of us has to stay in the shadows as insurance against just exactly what's happening here. He can't 'compel' me if he doesn't know I exist. We have a massive task ahead of us," Brivari continued as Jaddo huffed impatiently. "It was no small potatoes to turn him into a monarch, and now he'll have to do more than that; he has to take back a planet. Baby steps, Jaddo. He's summoned you with good reason. Attend him."

"Oh, for heaven's sake," Jaddo muttered. "What a time to go all 'palace etiquette' on me. This is no palace."

"It sure as hell isn't," Brivari agreed. "It's a war zone. Let's not lose sight of that."

A crowd arrived from the jetway, three flight attendants and several passengers escorting a portly woman who looked ready to faint. "I couldn't get it open!" she moaned. "It was awful! I was trapped!"

"Tell me about it," Jaddo said darkly. "You and me both, sweetheart. You and me both."




*****************************************************



Crashdown Cafe




"Here's one Moons of Jupiter," Courtney said, handing a plate across a table to an eager pair of hands, "one Beam Me Up Burger—careful, that plate is hot—and one..."

Her voice trailed off as the bell on the Crashdown's door dingled. "One Men in Black Burrito," she finished, delivering the last plate. "Anything else I can get you?"

A moment later, the bell dingled again as she was fetching hot sauce and napkins. I can't keep doing this, she thought wearily, craning her neck around the cake plate. She was more nervous than a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs, wilting with relief every single time that door opened and it wasn't Vanessa. Perhaps she should take Larak's words to heart; before they'd parted last night, he'd asked what sort of establishment the Crashdown was.

"Just a diner," Courtney had shrugged. "You know, greasy food and coffee, except this one is all done up in alien kitsch."

"I'm afraid I don't know," Larak had said sadly. "I need to preserve this host, so I do my best to restrict myself to nighttime hours which don't leave much room for 'diners'. But it sounds like you have nothing to worry about; the Vanessa I know would sooner eat dirt than wallow in a lowbrow place like that. You're probably safe, for a while at least, and even if she does show up or finds you some other way, she wouldn't kill you. She'd just watch you because she'll want to find the rest of the Resistance. Nicholas has little tolerance for disloyalty."

He's right, Courtney thought. And God knows he should be; Larak was a "Premier", not a king, but for all practical purposes they were one and the same, which would account for the friendship between Larak and Zan as the children of their world's respective rulers. It had been a shock to find herself chatting with Kerona's ruler, but then again so was jousting with Royal Warders and watching the King of Antar knock back a Cherry Coke. It still boggled the mind that Larak himself had become a transfer, and for so many years. It was an incredibly dangerous thing to do, but it sounded like he'd taken as many precautions as...

Courtney smiled suddenly, having been about to say as humanly possible. You knew you'd been here too long when you started thinking in human expressions. Even Larak of the limited exposure was doing that, although she'd barely noticed beside the twin astonishments of Michael having been arrested and her managing to slip a Royal Warder. Granted more of that last one had been luck than she'd let on, but watching Brivari squirm with embarrassment that he'd missed her had been sweet, as had Larak's suggestion that they concoct a method of communication that would be invisible to his host and accessible to all three of them. Brivari hadn't exactly been thrilled about her being included in that, but Larak had been firm, and to her astonishment, Brivari had relented. So there was someone else he listened to besides Dee. Good to know.

"Welcome to the Crashdown," Courtney said to her newest customer, a grumpy-looking man who had just slid onto a stool at the counter. "What can I get you?"

"Coffee," the man answered, "preferably strong enough to grow hair on your chest. And a king who doesn't yank me back here like a dog on a leash. That's it for starters."

Courtney's pencil tapped on her pad. "We're fresh out of coffee that'll grow hair on my chest. How about some that'll grow hair on yours?"

"You and Brivari," Jaddo said, shaking his head in disgust. "Comedians, both."

"I should have known you were back in town by the giant thundercloud that follows you everywhere you go," Courtney remarked as Jaddo scowled at her. "As for the king, of course he 'yanked' you back. His Second is in jail, courtesy of—"

"Vanessa," Jaddo finished. "I heard."

Courtney leaned in closer. "And I heard that Vanessa and Pierce were lovers. How does that work, exactly?"

"The same way any human mating works. Given how long you've been here, may I assume you've figured that out?"

Courtney's eyes widened in horror. "You mean...you mean you two...you actually..."

"I mean I've been banging her all summer," Jaddo announced.

"Whoa!" Courtney exclaimed, throwing up both hands as though warding off a physical attack. "That is a visual I do not need."

"Which would be your problem," Jaddo said irritably. "You asked for it."

"I asked to barf on the counter? Not," Courtney retorted. "I mean, 'banging'? That is just...gross!"

"Then which human colloquialism would you prefer I use? Fucking? Diddling? Tapping?"

"None of them!" Courtney said quickly. "I'm sorry I brought it up."

"Whanking?" Jaddo continued, ignoring her. "Knocking boots? Dancing the Mattress Jig? Well, it certainly didn't always involve a mattress—"

"Stop!" Courtney ordered, both hands over her ears. "God, now I need to wash my eyes and my ears!"

"Everything okay here?"

It was Mr. Parker, looking quizzically at her and more than a little suspiciously at Jaddo, who was eyeing him as though he were on the menu. "Oh...sure," Courtney said, feeling foolish as she lowered her hands. "We were just...um..."

"Is this customer bothering you?" Mr. Parker asked.

"No," Courtney said quickly. "We were just discussing something...disturbing. Very disturbing."

"I assure you, it was an above board, intellectual discussion," Jaddo said with a perfectly straight face. "I apologize if the subject matter upset her."

"Really upset her," Mr. Parker remarked. "What was it? War? Death?"

"Worse," Courtney said promptly. "Way worse."

"Worse than war and death?"

"You'd be surprised," Courtney muttered. "We're fine," she added, lest Mr. Parker press for more information. "Seriously. I'm not the type to take anyone's sh—put up with any funny stuff," she amended quickly.

"She is not," Jaddo confirmed. "Quite the opposite."

"Mmm," Mr. Parker murmured, still skeptical. "Okay, well...if you need me, I'll be in the back. Just a stone's throw away," he added with a pointed look at Jaddo. "Enjoy your meal, sir."

"So," Jaddo said after Mr. Parker had walked away, albeit with several backward glances, "you have a knight in shining armor. How quaint."

"God, you are so full of it," Courtney groaned. " 'Intellectual discussion'? 'Quite the opposite'? Please go back where you came from and stay there. I'd almost rather have Vanessa."

" 'Almost'?," Jaddo chuckled. "What a ringing endorsement. And I'd love to, darling, but I'm not here by choice, nor am I 'full of' anything. It was an intellectual discussion about human colloquialisms, and you don't take anyone's shit. Including mine."

Courtney gaped at him. "What did you say?"

Jaddo eyed her beadily. "May I have my coffee?"

Flabbergasted, Courtney grabbed a pot and a cup. "Did you...did you just compliment me? As in say something nice? As in voluntarily? As in without someone putting a gun to your head?"

"Don't get all excited," Jaddo advised, dumping copious amounts of sugar in his coffee. "It doesn't take much to outdo that piece of seaweed known as 'Vilandra'." He stirred, producing more of a sludge than a beverage. "I hear you and Rath are getting along famously. Is that true?"

Courtney felt herself flush as she checked to make certain Maria wasn't close by. "Uh...well...I like him. He's sharp. And funny. And he wants to go home, which is more than I can say for the rest of them."

"And does my Ward return your affections?"

" 'Affections'? That's a bit much," Courtney said. "And he likes Maria too, although he's trying not to."

"Commendable," Jaddo said. "Although 'Maria' is a serious improvement over the vapid Parker girl."

" 'Vapid'?" Courtney said skeptically. "First 'seaweed', now 'vapid'? I don't know Liz very well, but she doesn't strike me as 'vapid'. And she just got back after politely excusing herself for the entire summer. And Maria is quite the attack dog—"

"Irrelevant," Jaddo said crisply. "They're both the wrong species."

"At least half of Antar would say the same about me," Courtney reminded him.

"But Brivari didn't," Jaddo noted. "He actually likes the idea, although he did spend most of his time blathering on about transference. He says he talked to you about it. What brought that up?"

Courtney stared at him for a moment before shaking her head. "No idea."

"And no matter," Jaddo said, "as we both agreed on the need to promptly execute anyone who claimed to be a transfer." He checked his watch. "I'm supposed to be meeting them here at 11 a.m. Where are they?"

"It's only 10:15," Courtney said. "They're probably—"

"I suppose I'll have to go fetch them, then," Jaddo sighed. "Let's get this over with."

"—on their way. Look, if you leave, you'll probably pass them on the way here, and—"

Slam!

"—have to turn around and come back," Courtney finished, shaking her head. God, but he was annoying. Not to mention he'd left at least a 1/4 inch of sludge in his coffee cup.

"Excuse me? I'm looking for Max Evans."

It was the sheriff, hat in hand and no doubt here for the big meeting. "Sorry," Courtney said. "Haven't seen him. Would you like to leave him a message?"

Valenti checked his watch. "Nah. I'm a little early. I'll have a cup of coffee while I'm waiting. If I leave now, I'll just have to turn around and come back."





******************************************************




Max pushed open the door to the Crashdown, his eyes scanning the interior; no Maria, no Alex, no Valenti, and most especially, no Liz. Nasedo wasn't due for a while yet, but the rest of them were supposed to be here. The only person he recognized was Courtney, at the counter writing up a bill.

"Hey, if anybody comes in looking for me, I'm in the back," Max told her.

" 'Anybody'?" Courtney asked, not looking up from her pad. "You sure about that?"

Max blinked. "Meaning?"

"Meaning 'anybody' is pretty inclusive," Courtney answered. "You really mean 'anybody'? Friends? Enemies? Snipers? Avon Ladies? People wearing name tags which say, 'Hi! My name is Anybody!'?" When he said nothing, she finally looked up. "Right," she nodded sagely. "So I'll send 'anybody' looking for you back there."

"Good," Max said, vaguely confused. "Thanks."

"No problem. Oh, by the way, there's someone back there who was looking for you."

"And...you didn't think to mention that?" Max said.

Now it was Courtney's turn to blink. "I just did."

Max smiled faintly. "Talking to you is like talking to Michael."

Courtney broke into a wide smile. "That's the nicest thing anyone's said to me all day."

Definitely confused, Max thought as she grinned like he'd just told her she was the most beautiful girl in the world. Actually, talking to Courtney wasn't exactly like talking to Michael; while both were blunt, Courtney was more likely to cloak her frankness in a wit so dry, it defied decryption. Maybe that's why Michael got along with her so well; she was Michael 2.0.

The back room was empty save for Valenti, who rose when Max entered. "Are you the only one here?" Max asked.

"I'm early," Valenti allowed.

"How's Michael?"

"Okay," Valenti answered. "Quiet. I was afraid he wouldn't be."

"Michael's a hothead sometimes, but he usually knows when he's in too deep for that to do any good," Max noted.

"I've been wracking my brain trying to think of a way out of this, and I'm afraid I haven't come up with anything," Valenti admitted.

"We'll think of something," Max promised. "Or Nasedo will. He should be here shortly."

"Which one is this?" Valenti asked.

"Nasedo," Max repeated. "The one who got shot when all of you rescued me from Pierce? He's our guardian; there's only one."

"Right," Valenti said quickly. "Right, I...I don't think I've met him."

"I can pretty much guarantee you won't like him," Max said. "Nobody seems to. I'll apologize now for anything offensive he might say."

"What are you apologizing for?"

It was Tess, with Maria and Alex behind her. "Hey, Max," Alex said. "Courtney said you were back here. At least I think she did. When we asked her if you were here, she asked us if we were 'anybody' and pointed to the back."

"She's weird," Maria declared. "Ignore her. I do."

"Doesn't look that way," Tess commented as Maria raised an eyebrow. "So what were you apologizing for, Max?"

"I was just telling Valenti that Nasedo was coming, and pointing out that he probably wouldn't like him," Max said. "I know—we may not like him, but we need him." His eyes raked the room, the staircase nearby, his watch. It was ten minutes to eleven.

"Don't worry," Tess said, putting a reassuring hand on his arm. "He'll be here."

"It's not Nasedo he's worried about, genius," Maria said dryly. "Don't worry," she added to Max. "She'll be here. Yes, 'she'," Maria confirmed when Tess gave her a quizzical look. "As in Liz."

"That's what you're worried about?" Tess said incredulously. "I mean, it would be nice to have her help, but we don't need her anywhere near as much as we need Nasedo..."

Tess's voice trailed off as Maria's eyebrows joined her hairline, Alex made a slicing motion across his throat, Valenti looked confused, and Max felt his face growing warm. "Liz promised," Maria reminded him. "That means she'll be here." She threw Tess a dazzling smile. "And won't that be 'nice'?"





******************************************************




On pins and needles, Brivari paced the floor outside one of the Crashdown's back rooms, more wary than he'd been since Pierce's arrival. Jaddo was in there with Zan, Ava, and Vilandra, several of their human friends, and Sheriff Valenti, after having arrived late, presumably because he was too impatient to await their arrival. Although Jaddo had managed to welcome the sheriff with more or less good grace, he'd moved on to a cringe-inducing description of his relationship with Whitaker, proving once again that one could never quite tell how things would go with Jaddo around. If they made it out of this without a major mistake, it would be a major miracle.

"Tell me how far this information has been leaked," Jaddo was saying. "I need to extinguish every human who has this information."

Wonderful, Brivari groaned. Like that was going to go over well with a king who had human friends. Jaddo had learned nothing, but then he hadn't really expected him to.

"I'm going to assume present company is excluded?" the Whitman boy said.

"Isn't murder what got you into this situation to begin with?" a female voice demanded.

Brivari peeked inside. Liz Parker had appeared, and if she bore any scars from her time with Jaddo, they were not on display now as she faced him defiantly, as though daring him to pull something. Jaddo noticed it too, sizing her up for a moment before apparently reaching the same conclusion.

"My job is to protect the Royal Four," he told the company at large in a less provocative tone. "Their survival is critical to the survival of an entire race."

"No one's going to die," Zan said. "Killing people isn't going to solve anything."

*Let it go,* Brivari said quickly when he saw the look on Jaddo's face. *Don't start something.*

*He already started it,* Jaddo growled telepathically. *And he has to learn!* "Oh, my," he said out loud, his voice dripping sarcasm. "A pacifist for a king. Shall we all just commit joint suicide right now, or shall we wait for our enemies to show up and have a nice boxed lunch of us?"

Shit, Brivari muttered. Sarcasm had never gone over well with Zan, and while he wasn't bristling as much as he'd used to, the eyes he turned on Rath's Warder were hard.

"We're not killing anyone," Zan said firmly. "That's an order."

The room grew very still. Even without knowing the genetic impact of those words, everyone still realized this was a seminal moment. Heads turned from Zan to Jaddo, awaiting a response from a Warder who suddenly realized he'd pushed too far.

"As you wish," Jaddo said. "The feds know about Cadmium X. If they find it on the bones, their first order of business will be to do to Michael what they did to you in the White Room."

"We can't let that happen," Zan said.

"Where are the bones now?" Jaddo asked.

"Whitaker took them out of the coroner's office," Valenti answered. "I don't know where they are."

"Even if we knew where they were, what would we do with them?" Vilandra asked. "Hiding them isn't going to solve the problem."

Zan was quiet for a moment. "I know what to do," he said finally. His eyes moved to the Parker girl, who nodded.

"I'll help you find out where they are," she said.

"How's it going?" a voice whispered in Brivari's ear.

"You tell me," Brivari said to Courtney, who had sidled up beside him. "First he turned their stomachs with a description of his relationship with Vanessa, and then he accused the king of being a pacifist."

"So not as bad as it could be," Courtney remarked. "This is Jaddo, after all."

"Mmm," Brivari murmured. "The king just ordered him not to kill anyone."

" 'Anyone'? As in 'anyone', anyone?"

"Those were his exact words," Brivari answered. "Remember, he doesn't realize what effect they have."

"Then someone should tell him, tout suite!" Courtney declared. "That could be one hell of a problem if he runs into Nicholas."

"Which is why one of us remains hidden...and free," Brivari said. "I'd love to think that making the king aware of his power would convince him not to use it, but I don't think that's the way it would work out."

"Well, that sucks," Courtney muttered.

"It does," Brivari agreed. "But he wasn't ordered not to wound anyone. He can still do plenty of harm without killing them."

"He can still do plenty of harm just by opening his mouth," Courtney noted. She paused. "You didn't tell him about Larak."

"No," Brivari agreed, "I didn't. Did you?"

Courtney eyed him warily. "Given that he seems to think executing any transfer is the way to go, I didn't either. Why? Wait...was this some kind of test?"

"Not exactly," Brivari answered. "I was just curious."

"About what?" Courtney demanded. "And what would you have done if I'd spilled the beans? I could have told him accidentally."

"You, volunteer information to Jaddo?" Brivari said. "Highly unlikely. It was far more likely that he'd bring it up, you'd realize he wasn't up to date and wonder why...and reach a decision about whether he should be. I was curious what decision you would make. And pretty sure what it would be."

"Warders," Courtney said, shaking her head in disgust. "You suck."

"Perhaps," Brivari allowed. "But Jaddo is highly useful in certain circumstances. He's here whether we like it or not, so I needed to be certain you had the chops to deal with him."

"So I passed?" Courtney said.

"I would have been surprised if you hadn't," Brivari admitted.

Courtney gave a snort of disgust. "Well, go me! Good luck with the attack dog. Looks like you'll need it."

Brivari smiled faintly as she huffed off. Whatever else was wrong with Jaddo, he'd chosen a worthy mate for Rath. The discussion about how to locate Pierce's bones concluded, with the Whitman boy leaving and the Parker girl moving to the family's kitchen...

Oh, dear, Brivari sighed when Jaddo followed her. And just when he thought everything was going reasonably well.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



I'll post Chapter 12 on Sunday, August 3.

Well, Jaddo was not anxious to return.......
And then he wasn't happy that they had a pacifist for a King.
Life goes on!
Thanks for the new part,
Carolyn

Great part!

Still reading and enjoying.Thanks a million for this