Kara
It was well past two by the time I pulled into the parking lot of the UFO Depot. I saw the store’s UFO Night Tours van parked there, but not Jeff’s equally shabby Ram van, which meant he must have gotten bored with hanging around the shop and taken off for greener pastures, whatever those might be. Thank God. I felt a little bit better after spending more than an hour with Persephone, getting reassurances from my friend that everyone would stick with me no matter what happened, but still, the knowledge of what I carried within me seemed to weigh down every footstep. Better to not have to deal with Jeff Makowski on top of all that as well.
I was a little worried that Kiki might be irritated by how long I’d been away, but she looked remarkably cheerful as I entered the store, which was otherwise empty.
“Hey, Kara,” she called out, “you just missed your friend.”
“My ‘friend’?” I echoed, puzzled. But at least I could assume from Kiki’s breezy demeanor that she hadn’t noticed anything odd about my expression or manner.
“Yeah, one of our friendly neighborhood MIBs. You might have told me he was that cute, though.”
“He — I — what?” Somehow the remark didn’t seem to want to process through my already muddled brain cells.
“Yep, he stopped in for a little chat. Seemed a little concerned that you weren’t back from Taos yet.”
“‘Taos’?” I repeated.
For the first time, Kiki’s grin slipped a little bit. “Yeah, you know, where our mother is supposedly hanging out these days. Don’t worry — I covered for you. I don’t think he noticed anything.”
I didn’t quite sigh in relief. Kiki might have had her faults, but she’d always been pretty good about thinking on her feet. “Oh, that.”
“Yes, that.”
It was pretty clear that Kiki was less than thrilled I hadn’t bothered to tell her about our mother’s latest location. With everything that had been going on, it had completely slipped my mind. Besides, I didn’t know for certain whether the agent had even been telling me the truth.
Hedging, I said, “Okay, he might have said something about that, but I had no reason to believe him. Besides, you swore to me on your twenty-first birthday that you wouldn’t stop to dump a bucket of water on her if you found her on fire in the street. So maybe I just didn’t see the point in relaying information about her whereabouts that might or might not even be accurate.”
A scowl creased Kiki’s brow, but then it smoothed itself away as she sighed. “Yeah, okay, I guess I did say that. But it was after about four shots of Cuervo, if I recall correctly.”
Actually, I was sort of surprised that my little sister remembered even that much of the evening, considering the way the beer and tequila had flowed during her birthday party. “Was Jeff here when the agent came in?”
“Nope. He got bored, said he was going back to the apartment so he could do a remote login, check on some stuff he left running in L.A.”
From Kiki’s expression, I got the impression that she wasn’t too happy with Jeff’s defection. However, what had she expected? There was only so much you could do while hanging out at the UFO Depot; I didn’t even have wifi set up, but plugged my laptop directly into the cable modem when I needed to use the internet.
“Well, I’m sorry my trip took me longer than I thought it would,” I said. “But I’m here now, so you can take off if you want. Looks like it’s been pretty quiet.”
For a few seconds, Kiki didn’t say anything, but just rustled a few papers on the counter. Then, “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
I blinked. “What?”
“Sorry, Kara, but you’re not a very good liar. I can tell something’s bothering you. And then you take off for hours and don’t say anything about where you’re going or what you’re doing, and that isn’t like you.”
No, it wasn’t. Kiki and I shared almost everything, although there had been a gradual moving apart ever since she got her own place. Which was to be expected, but now I hesitated. As much as I wanted to confide in my sister, I knew I needed to talk to Grayson first, and then Lance. After that….
I’ll worry about that after I’ve survived those two encounters. Everyone will know sooner or later, but….
“Just stuff,” I said lightly. “I’m worried about what they’re plotting, what they’re going to try to make Grayson do. Or rather, what he’s going to volunteer to do out of some misplaced sense of nobility. That’s all.”
Kiki looked spectacularly unconvinced, but she just shrugged and pulled her purse out from its hiding place in a cubbyhole beneath the sales counter. “If you say so.” And she slung her bag over her shoulder and marched out, obviously annoyed.
Well, there wasn’t anything else I could do at the moment. I could only wait for the day to end so I could close up the shop and go talk to Grayson. What the hell I was going to say to him, I had absolutely no idea. I had a feeling that no matter what I came up with, it wouldn’t be enough.
At least at this time of year, the light lingered until almost eight o’clock, which meant the sun hadn’t even begun to set by the time I locked up the shop and got on the road at a little past six-thirty. I’d called Michael on his cell and confirmed that he and Grayson were back home at Michael’s place. Better to do this there, where we might have a little privacy. It sounded as if Lance had stayed behind at the Olivers’ to go over a few more things, and I was fine with that, too. If he was still with Paul, then I wouldn’t have to worry about him calling me, wanting to see me.
Apparently, Michael had told Grayson I was on my way, because he was standing in the open front door, watching me as I locked the car and made my way up the front walk. His expression was curiously neutral, expressing neither happiness at seeing me nor irritation at the intrusion. In fact, as I looked at him, for the first time I could see something of the blankness Persephone had described in the hybrids but had never before noticed in Grayson’s features.
I swallowed. This was probably going to be even harder than I’d thought.
“Do you mind if we walk down by the creek?” I asked.
He didn’t appear surprised by the request. “No.”
Instead of leading me through the house, he stepped outside and then went down the driveway and through the gate into the backyard. From there, we picked up the narrow trail that wandered through the cottonwoods, sycamores, and pines until it reached the creek bed. The chatter of the water seemed somehow reassuring to me, as if telling me that it was continuing as it always had, and that there was no real reason for worry.
I wouldn’t go so far as to say that, I thought, and smiled grimly.
“So, what is it?” Grayson asked after we’d paused a few feet from the edge of the stream. “If you’re going to try to talk me out of going back to the base, don’t bother. You and I both know they have to be stopped.”
“No, I know that.” I swallowed, wishing I’d thought to bring a bottle of water with me. For some reason, my throat felt horribly dry, even though it was relatively cool and moist here next to the creek. “I just wish you didn’t think the only way to go in there is some sort of suicide mission.”
A muscle in his cheek tightened as he looked away from me. His eyes seemed even greener here as they reflected the shifting hues of the cottonwoods all around us. “I’ve been in there. I’m remembering more and more every day. Believe me when I tell you that I’ll be lucky enough just to make it inside. I can’t expect my luck to hold long enough to let me get back out again.”
If there had been a note of defeat in his voice, of worry or sadness, it might have been easier to take. But he spoke calmly, without a trace of self-pity, as if he’d just woken up to the fact that he’d been designed as an expendable soldier and so couldn’t hope for any other outcome.
I looked away from Grayson then. If he was so eager to walk away from this world, then maybe it would be better if I didn’t tell him at all. What difference would it make? He wouldn’t be around to see the child he’d helped to create.
No. That was the coward’s way out. He deserved to know. He should know, even if in the end it changed nothing.
Voice steady, I said, “I’m pregnant.”
Clearly, that had been the last thing he’d expected me to tell him. He turned back toward me, eyes widening, gaze fastening on me as if he was waiting for me to deliver some sort of follow-up, some explanation as to why the child couldn’t possibly be his.
No, it can’t possibly be anyone else’s….
“I went to get an official test today, just to be sure,” I continued. “They said I’m about three weeks along. I’d say that was crazy, but since I know it’s yours, I suppose anything is possible.”
He didn’t say anything for a few seconds, then murmured, “Accelerated growth.”
“What?”
His mouth pulled into an unwilling smile before he replied, “That’s how they do it with us hybrids. You don’t think they’re going to wait twenty, thirty years for us to reach the peak of our physical development, do you? No, they make sure we’re ready to go in just about six months. I don’t know for sure, of course, but I’m guessing I’m only about eighteen months old.”
The nausea returned out of nowhere, and I stumbled a few paces to a cottonwood tree, put a hand out to it to steady myself. If I’d stopped to think about it, maybe such a notion would have occurred to me. But to realize that Grayson, who had all the outward appearance of someone in his early thirties, might have been in existence for only a year and a half simply floored me.
If he was unnerved by my lack of a reply, he didn’t show it. He went on, speaking simply, “So I guess it makes some sort of sense that the development of your unborn child would also be accelerated. Not to that extent, since it’s half human, but some alteration of the gestation period is to be expected.”
“Alteration of the — ” I broke off, staring at him. “Grayson, I’m carrying your child. How can you be so — so — ”
“So what? Cold? Detached?” That grim smile had never left his lips. “We both know I won’t be here to see this child grow up, so what do you expect me to say? I’ll admit I’m a little surprised — you’d think the aliens would have made sure all their hybrids were sterile — but maybe they simply thought the opportunity for one of us to interact sexually with a human female would never arise.”
The wave of sickness passed as quickly as it had come, and I made myself breathe deeply several times before I dared to say anything. “So don’t — don’t you feel anything at all about this?”
“Are you going to keep it?”
“Yes.”
For the first time, the mask of indifference slipped a little, and I could see the desperate hope in his expression, the realization that this one part of him would somehow survive. I took a little heart from that, and let go of the tree and moved toward him. Without stopping to think, I reached out and took his hand, placed it against the still-flat contours of my stomach.
“Whatever happens, some part of you will always be with us,” I said.
He moved his fingers against me, wonder in his eyes. I realized then that what I’d feared was a regression to the behavior and personality — or lack thereof — from the time when he was only a simple drone for the aliens was really not that at all. It was only a desperate defense against the fear gnawing at him, the knowledge that he would have to give up the humanity he’d gained so as to make the world safe for everyone else.
“Thank you,” he said.
I stared up at him.
“Thank you for not hiding this from me. It would have been easy enough. In a few days….” The words trailed off, the resulting silence lying heavy between us. “I already knew what I was fighting for, but this just strengthens that belief.” He took my hands in his. “They can’t ever find out about this child, Kara. If they did — if they knew such a thing was possible — I don’t want to know what they’d do with that information.”
Such a thing hadn’t even occurred to me, but as I gazed into Grayson’s taut, strained features, I realized he was right. The aliens had already shown they were more than happy to pervert the natural order of life on earth. What use they could make of a human/hybrid child, I had no idea…but I did know I would do whatever I must to conceal my child’s origins.
“They’ll never find out,” I told him, voice firm even though worry had already begun to gnaw at me. True, Lance and Jeff and everyone else were experts at keeping secrets, but a baby wasn’t something you could exactly hide. I’d just have to trust that they would come up with some kind of explanation for my child. “We can take care of things. I promise.”
He nodded, although he didn’t look all that convinced. “Does anyone else know?”
“Just Persephone,” I told him. “I — I needed a friend to talk to. But I knew I should tell you before I talked to anyone else.”
His fingers tightened around mine, just for a second or two, and then he let go. “I wish….” He shook his head. “Never mind. I’m just glad I could know you, if only for a short time.” He bent down and kissed me very gently on the forehead. Before I could respond, he had turned and begun moving swiftly up the path, back toward Michael’s house. It was abrupt, but I thought I understood.
I had never been all that great at goodbyes, either.
Lance
He left the Olivers’ place just after seven, declining an invitation to stay to dinner — “We’re getting deli takeout from Whole Foods, so no worries about Persephone’s cooking” — at which comment Persephone had shot Paul a mock-evil glare but then shrugged. After so many hours sequestered in Paul’s office, though, Lance needed a change of scenery. Besides, he hadn’t heard from Kara all day.
He called the house, since he figured that was where she should be at this time. The shop closed at six, although sometimes she got stuck there late if she had enough of a crowd at closing time and wanted to see if she could squeeze a few more bucks out of the tourists at the end of the day. But the house phone just rang and rang before rolling over to the ancient answering machine she still used for her landline, so he called her cell.
Kara picked up on the third ring. “Hi, Lance.”
She sounded tired. No, she sounded drained, as if whatever she’d gone through that day had put her through the wringer.
“You all right?” he asked.
A pause. “Yes, I’m okay. It’s been a long day.”
“Apparently. I thought you’d be home by now.”
“I’m almost there. I was planning to call you when I got in.”
Her conversation still felt strange to him, as if she was saying the things she thought he expected her to say and not what she was really thinking. “Do you want me to swing by India Palace and get some takeout?”
A little sigh. “Um, sure. Actually, that sounds great. Chicken korma?”
“You got it.”
“Great. I’ll see you in a little while.”
He pushed the “end” button on the phone and tossed it on the passenger seat, wondering exactly what was going on. Well, he supposed he’d find out soon enough.
India Palace was crowded — apparently he and Kara weren’t the only people with a yen for takeout that evening — so he didn’t arrive at her place until almost half an hour later. He parked the Jeep in the driveway and got out. It had rained late that afternoon while he was at the Olivers’, and the warm air was thick with the peculiarly pungent smell of damp asphalt, overlaid with a sweet scent that must have been the roses blooming in her neighbor’s front yard.
He went to the front door and rang the bell. Kara hadn’t offered him a key yet, and he hadn’t asked. Too soon, probably, and it was a step she would have to take. He wouldn’t presume anything, no matter what might have passed between them.
Gort barked on the other side of the door, and a minute later, Kara opened it. Surprisingly, she didn’t look as wrung out as he’d been expecting. She’d pulled her hair back into a ponytail, which was unusual for her, but otherwise, she seemed to be more or less herself. Maybe she’d gotten her second wind.
“Dinner,” he said, and raised the bag of take-out in a half salute.
“Great,” she replied, moving out of the way so he could come inside. “I’m starved. Gort, get out from underfoot.”
The shepherd mix obliged by moving a scant ten inches off to one side, his nose working overtime as he tried not to be too obvious about sniffing at the riches of chicken korma and brown rice and naan and samosas.
“Not a chance in hell, Gort,” Lance said, and the dog backed away a little bit more.
Kara looked almost guilty. “Well, sometimes I let him lick the take-out container afterward. Korma isn’t spicy enough to bother him.”
That was Kara for you. The way she spoiled that dog was nuts, but also sort of endearing. Or maybe he thought it was endearing now because of the way he felt about her.
He wasn’t sure what to think of that, so he only followed her into the dining room, where she’d already set out plates and silverware. A wine glass sat by his place setting at the head of the table, but he noticed Kara didn’t have one for herself.
“Not drinking tonight?”
For some reason, she flushed slightly. “No — I’m so tired, I think I’d pass out with my head in my food if I tried to drink anything. But I’ve got a bottle of pinot grigio already open in the fridge, so if you want some….”
“Sure,” he replied, mostly because he couldn’t think of a good reason to say no.
She went to get it, and he got the take-out food set up using the large serving spoons she’d already laid out on the table. Gort took up his position on the rug, perfectly centered between their two chairs. Lance smothered a grin.
“Here you go,” she said, coming back into the room. She poured him a little more than half a glass, then sat down in her own seat.
He watched her as he settled the napkin in his lap, took his first sip of wine. On the surface, she seemed fine, but he noticed the way her movements looked just a little jerky, as if she was filled with some sort of nervous energy that had nothing to do with her overall level of weariness.
“So how was the council of war?” she asked before spearing a chunk of chicken and putting it in her mouth.
“I think we have things mostly worked out,” he replied carefully. If there was any way of keeping the details of the mission from Kara, he’d try to do so…but he sort of doubted she’d let herself be kept in the dark for too long.
“And you all are just fine with sending Grayson off to his death?”
The set of her jaw told him she was a long ways from giving up on the subject. “Kara, you don’t know that’s what’s going to happen. None of us know.”
“But it’s a distinct possibility.”
“Yes.”
She didn’t reply, instead stabbing at the korma with sharp little movements of her fork. Her eyes were suspiciously bright.
He really hadn’t wanted this confrontation, but he knew he’d have to have it out with her sooner or later. “Kara, he’s the only one who can do it.”
“According to you.”
“According to all of us. The aliens know what Paul and Michael and I look like. They know what Persephone looks like. None of us are going to get within a hundred yards of that place, and you know it. Hell, I doubt we could get within a half mile. Grayson can because he looks like every other one of their soldiers.”
“But not his eyes.”
“Colored contacts. Luckily, the biometric scans are for the hybrids’ thumbprints, not their eyes. It should work.”
She didn’t reply, but reached out for a piece of naan and tore it viciously in half, dunking a piece in the korma sauce and then pausing with it partway to her mouth. At length, she said, “Should work.”
“Nothing is guaranteed. But it’s the best shot we have. And we should all be glad that Persephone apparently made them more than a little cautious about us and what we’re capable of, or we’d be having to worry about alien-infected agents roaming the streets of Sedona. They’re not here, which means they’re not really surveilling us. Not yet. But if we let them keep going, let them build things back up to where they were in March — well, we’re all going to be in a world of hurt. Not just you and Paul and Persephone and Michael, and probably Kiki and Jeff, but everyone in Sedona. Everyone in the world. Grayson seems to understand that. So why don’t you?”
Her shoulders slumped, and she dropped the piece of naan on her plate. Then he saw a tear roll down one cheek, followed by another. They dripped onto the tablecloth, making dark, muddy-looking splotches on the clay-colored fabric.
Oh, shit.
It wasn’t her crying. He wasn’t one of those men who freaked out if a woman dared to shed a few tears over something. No, it was that those tears must mean she still felt a lot more for Grayson than she’d let on. That she hadn’t really let him go.
Even though he hadn’t meant it to, his voice hardened a bit. “You’re not over him, are you?”
She looked up then. Her nose was a little red, but otherwise, she didn’t appear to be the type who completely fell apart when she cried. “It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
A pause. Then she stared straight at him and said, “I’m pregnant.”
It really didn’t sink in at first. He gazed back at her, noting how the tears had already begun to dry up, that her full mouth was uncharacteristically tight. Then it hit him, those two words that could change your life in a way no others could. “You’re what?”
“I went to Prescott today, to Planned Parenthood. They confirmed it.”
“But we — it’s only been — ”
“It’s not yours, Lance. It’s Grayson’s.”
He’d been through too much in his life to let anything completely unnerve him, but even so, he had to force himself to sit still, to let himself absorb the idea. Kara, carrying the child of a human/alien hybrid.
“Even so — ” he began.
“Accelerated development,” she said, in a tight little voice that didn’t sound very much like hers. “At least, that’s what Grayson told me.”
“So he knows.”
“Of course. He has a right to know.”
Probably he did, but what would this knowledge do to the hybrid? Would he be able to follow through with their plans, knowing that he’d be leaving behind the woman carrying his child?
Something in his face must have betrayed his thoughts, because Kara shook her head and said, “Don’t worry, Lance. It hasn’t changed anything for him. If anything, it’s only made him more determined.”
“It has?”
“I guess he wants to make the world is safe for his child.”
“So you’re…that is….” Lance stopped himself before he could complete the sentence. Jesus, how was he supposed to ask her if she was going to get an abortion?
“I’m keeping the baby, if that’s what you mean. I don’t expect you to understand.”
Proud words, but as he looked at her, he knew she wanted more than anything for him to understand, for him to tell her it was all right and that he’d stick with her no matter what happened. And, crazy as it might sound, he knew he would. He’d never expected to have children, thought all that business about having someone to carry on the family line was just stupid. If Kara had had a child with that jerk Alan, Lance would have accepted the situation. Everyone had their baggage. Some of it just weighed more.
He smiled at her, noting her surprise at the alteration in his expression. “Well, let’s hope the baby doesn’t come out green or gray or something. But if it does….”
“If it does….” she said, hope beginning to light those gorgeous dark blue eyes of hers.
He reached out and took her hand, felt how chilly her fingers were. She needed some warming up.
Soon.
Tone casual, he finished, “If it does, I can’t think of a better place than Sedona to raise a pale green quarter-alien baby. Can you?”
In answer, she got up out of her seat and went to him, wrapping her arms around him, the soft scent of her perfume or her hair or whatever it was filling the air. He held her, pulled her close, tried to let her know by his embrace that he wouldn’t lecture or condemn, wouldn’t do anything except show her that he would be there for her.
By the quick, jagged little breath she took, and the tightening of the embrace, he thought she did.