3

Inclusions

“BANNER day at the lot,” Uncle Louie announced when he got home that night, barely in time for dinner. “It’s why I’m so late. At least two dozen customers came in and I personally sold three cars—on a Monday!”

He sat down and took a big gulp of iced tea. “A bunch of others promised to come back tomorrow or the next day, said they’re planning to buy, too. Didn’t I say that company moving its headquarters here was good news? Shoot, if this trend continues, you can quit your extra job at the florist, Theresa.”

I glanced at my aunt, who seemed more surprised than happy.

“Wow, that’s great, Uncle Louie,” I said to make up for her silence. “Three cars!” I was pretty sure his previous record was three in one week.

“Did the other salesmen do as well?” Aunt Theresa asked, now looking cautiously pleased.

“Joe sold two and Buddy one—it’s just the three of us there on Mondays. But get this—several people asked for me personally! Said I’d been recommended.” He beamed at us across the table.

“Recommended?” Aunt Theresa echoed doubtfully. “By whom?”

“Satisfied customers, obviously. Maybe the O’Garas? I heard one guy mention them to his wife. Probably others, too. Most people like me, Theresa.” He was obviously a little hurt she wasn’t more enthusiastic about his triumph.

At mention of the O’Garas, my aunt flicked a glance my way before looking back at Uncle Louie. “Sorry, dear. Of course I’m happy for you—for all of us. I was simply curious. So many people moving to town all at once, well…it’s going to take a bit of getting used to. For everyone.”

“I’m sure not seeing any downside so far.” Uncle Louie scooped up a big forkful of beef stroganoff. “Bring ‘em on!”

Most nights Uncle Louie dominated the dinner conversation and tonight was no different, especially since he had so much to talk about. As he went on to describe the cars he’d sold and the people he’d sold them to—including a comment on how good-looking most of the newcomers were—I could sense my aunt’s growing uneasiness. She was definitely getting suspicious.

I waited until she and I were putting the dinner dishes in the sink to say, “Aunt Theresa, there’s something you should probably know about these new people in town, this company—”

She glanced pointedly at the clock. “Aren’t you supposed to be at the O’Garas’ by seven-thirty? It’s nearly that now. Try not to be any later than you can help, as it’s a school night.”

With a little sigh of resignation, I nodded. “Right. I’ll, um, try to be home as early as I can. G’night Aunt Theresa.”

When I arrived at the O’Garas,’ the entire seven-member Echtran Council greeted me by bowing in unison—Kyna, Nara, and Connor holographically, since they didn’t live in Jewel. Malcolm and Breann had moved here last spring, and of course Mrs. O’Gara and Mr. Stuart—Rigel’s dad and the newest member of the Council—had lived here even longer.

After we all exchanged brief greetings, little Nara as enthusiastically as always, I took the only unoccupied chair.

“Excellency, I suggest we get right to business.” Kyna was currently the oldest, most level-headed, and longest-serving member of the Council. She’d taken over as leader after Rigel’s grandfather, Shim, left to become my Regent back on Mars. “Connor, you have your report on the status of the new Echtrans?”

Nodding, he stood. One of four Royals on the Council, Connor was tall, blond and almost absurdly handsome. Glancing off to one side at something not visible in his holographic image, he began.

“As you know, Excellency, due to your persuasiveness while in Nuath, nearly five thousand of our people emigrated from Mars over the summer—many, many times more than during any previous launch window. With so little time to prepare for such an influx, our first challenge was to arrange lodging for them all in Bailerealta, Dun Cloch and other, smaller, Echtran enclaves.

“Our standard orientation training had to be accelerated in order to process them through quickly, thereby making room for newer arrivals. This entailed fabricating an unprecedented number of new identities, records and personal histories before allowing them to leave their Echtran compounds to begin their integration into Duchas society. Despite those challenges, all has proceeded relatively smoothly thus far, as I stated in my preliminary report last month.”

I frowned. “I didn’t receive that report.”

“No, Excellency.” I detected disapproval in the glance Kyna gave Connor and a few of the others. “Some here felt that was unnecessary.”

Breann, a stunning brunette and, incidentally, another Royal, smiled at me in a way I found slightly condescending. “You already had so many responsibilities to deal with, Excellency. We thought it best not to add to them when this was a matter the Council was well able to handle ourselves, as we have handled all other Echtran affairs over the years.”

Before they’d discovered I was alive, in other words. I already knew the Royals on the Council weren’t nearly as happy as they pretended to be that a sixteen-year-old girl now had authority over them. It wasn’t like I’d asked for this job—rather the reverse. But it was mine now, and I was determined to do the best I could.

“While I appreciate your concern,” I said, not hiding my sarcasm, “I should have been told right away about something as important as a large number of Echtrans suddenly moving to my hometown.”

“Not so very sudden.” Malcolm’s smile also seemed irritatingly patronizing. “You may recall, Excellency, that even prior to your trip to Nuath last spring we discussed the establishment of an Echtran center of operations here in Jewel, as it is your home. It’s why our Council meetings are now held here, and why a small number of Echtrans had already relocated to Jewel, to include myself and Breann.”

“Of course I remember. But it was presented as something that would happen well in the future—months, even years from now.”

“That was the original plan,” Breann confirmed. “But we were forced to move more quickly when so many of our new arrivals expressed a desire to live in Jewel.”

I blinked. “They did? Why?”

Breann’s smile seemed more genuine now. “Because of you, Excellency. You apparently painted such a glowing picture of life in this town that nearly a quarter of those you convinced to relocate requested that Jewel be their new home.”

Oops. “I just used it as an example, since it’s what I know best. I never meant—” I broke off, frowning. “A quarter? That’s over a thousand people! Jewel can’t possibly accommodate that many Echtrans all at once. There’s not room, for one thing.”

“Of course not, Excellency,” Connor quickly replied. “And not nearly that many are actually moving there. While a large city like New York or Chicago can absorb a few hundred Echtrans easily enough, smaller communities—”

“Like Jewel?”

He nodded. “For those, we’ve had to be more innovative to avoid drawing unwanted attention. Fortunately, some of that groundwork was already laid. Early this year we created a corporation, wholly owned by the Echtran community, with the intention of eventually moving its operations and people to Jewel. To that end, some months ago that corporation purchased a defunct factory and a few hundred adjacent acres of unused farmland on the outskirts of town. That property is now being developed well ahead of our original schedule.”

“Developed…to do what? I mean, what are we telling people?”

Kyna answered me. “NuAgra’s stated purpose is to conduct research into genetically enhancing food crops to increase production and decrease the need for artificial pesticides and fertilizers. Press releases to that effect have already been sent to the local media.”

Thus that article in the Indianapolis paper yesterday.

“What will they really be doing? And what if people try to check out that story?” Given the grumblings I’d already heard about “hiring locally,” I was sure someone would. Maybe a lot of someones. “Won’t it look strange that this whole company practically sprang up overnight?”

“Not at all,” Breann assured me. “On paper, it appears as though NuAgra has been in existence for years but has only now chosen to move its headquarters to Jewel in order to expand operations.”

“As to your other question,” Malcolm said, “Echtrans really will be using the facility to develop ways to better provide food for both our own people and the Duchas…among other things. The sensitive nature of even their purported research will provide ample justification for secrecy, as well as for bringing in their own, specially trained people as employees.”

That so many details had already been worked out was mind-boggling—and irritating. “I absolutely should have been told about all of this much sooner.”

Connor cleared his throat noisily. “I was in the process of preparing a report that would have been shared with you last week, Excellency, but our priorities rather abruptly, er, changed. At that point the Council felt it would be unwise to distract you with other matters.”

I huffed out a breath, only partially mollified by that reasoning. “Okay. So how many people are we talking about?”

Again, Connor consulted something I couldn’t see. “By the end of the week, one hundred eighty-six new Echtrans will have relocated to Jewel.”

“One hundred—!” Okay, it wasn’t a thousand, but still…

“For now. More will undoubtedly arrive after the next launch window. By then the Jewel Duchas should have grown accustomed to the first wave, making integration of subsequent groups even easier.”

Jewelites, in my experience, tended to be pretty mistrustful of anything new. The Stuarts and O’Garas had managed to fit in pretty quickly, but Rigel and Sean being star athletes had helped a lot. Which prompted me to ask how many of our new arrivals would be kids.

“Only eleven.” Nara spoke for the first time since her initial, effusive greeting. “On my recommendation, families with children younger than twelve years old will remain in purely Echtran communities for the present, as youngsters pose a greater security risk.”

That made sense. Kids, even teenagers, did tend to blurt things out without thinking. I’d done it plenty of times myself. “So just middle school and high school age?”

“Yes.” Nara consulted her tablet. “According to my notes, seven will be attending Jewel High School, ranging in age from fourteen to seventeen. All should be enrolled by the end of this week. If you’d like, I can send you my report on them.”

“That would be good, thanks. I take it their parents have already found places to live here in town?”

Malcolm nodded. “Most arranged to buy or rent homes in Jewel as soon as they were approved to come, well before leaving the compounds. NuAgra is also subsidizing the completion, renovation and construction of more housing units to help meet future demand.”

Which probably included that Diamond View Terrace addition Uncle Louie had speculated about last night.

I must have still looked concerned, because Connor said, “Not to worry, Excellency. Everyone approved to relocate there underwent rigorous screening before being released from their training compounds. We couldn’t risk allowing someone with anti-Royal leanings to move to your community, particularly given that recent, public attack upon you.”

Which Rigel had prevented, even though he hadn’t yet gotten his memory back at the time.

“Did you ever find out who sent that man after me? Or was he working alone?”

“I’m afraid we weren’t able to discover that, Excellency.” Kyna’s expression was troubled. “The night before he was to undergo a memory extraction, he was found dead in his cell.”

My eyes widened. “Dead? You mean someone killed him before he could talk?”

Kyna grimaced slightly. “Our Healers’ preliminary examination indicated he died of natural causes—a heart attack—but the timing…”

“I’ve been assured there will be a complete investigation and autopsy,” Connor said. “If he was deliberately silenced, he was likely on an anti-Royal mission, just as he claimed. We know they’ve resorted to violence before.”

I suppressed a shudder. “How did you make sure no anti-Royals are moving here?”

I agreed in principle with what the so-called Populist Movement stood for: equal representation for all Martians. In fact, it was something I hoped to eventually bring about myself. But if they’d actually killed that crazy guy to keep him from talking, they’d lowered themselves to Faxon’s level. That dictator—now deposed—had also resorted to violence, intimidation and murder to subdue opposition.

“Nuathan records are quite thorough on some points,” Breann assured me. “Thanks, ironically, to Faxon. He kept careful track of anyone outspoken about their Royalist sympathies. The very people he most sought to oppress are the safest ones to have living here.”

Traditionalists, then—which I also had mixed feelings about. Back on Nuath they’d been my first supporters, but also the first to turn against me when the news about Rigel broke.

“That probably explains the attitudes of the three I met downtown yesterday,” I muttered.

“I hope they did nothing inappropriate.” Kyna raised an eyebrow. “We required those relocating to Jewel to undergo additional training to minimize the chances of that, should they first encounter you in a public setting. One reason they were among the last to be released from the compounds.”

“Well, they didn’t bow or squeal or anything,” I told her, “but they were downright rude to Rigel—which seemed pretty inappropriate to me, considering he helped save the freaking world Friday night! Is it possible not everyone has read your statement yet?”

Malcolm shifted in his chair, averting his eyes from mine. At the same time, I felt discomfort emanating from Breann and Mrs. O. Immediately, I was suspicious.

“You did send out that bulletin Saturday explaining how we stopped the Grentl, right?”

“A report was sent, Excellency.” Kyna’s expression was distinctly disapproving as it swept over the four Royals. “However the Council voted, four to three, to edit out several, ah, details first.”

“What details? You told me the whole story about what Rigel and I did—together—would go out over MARSTAR and the Nuathan networks.”

Malcolm cleared his throat. “We were all rather caught up in the moment Saturday afternoon, when we first learned the Grentl were leaving. It’s possible we, er, implied we would release more information than was wise. Something we realized after a more sober evaluation.”

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to see exactly what was sent out.” After everything they’d done to Rigel and me, I should have known better than to trust the Council Royals.

“Oh. Um, of course.” Breann punched the text up on her tablet, then handed it to me.

With growing indignation, I read:

“Nuathans and Echtrans will be happy to learn that the threat so recently posed by those aliens known as the Grentl has been averted. Unprecedented collaboration between Martian Scientists in Nuath and on Earth allowed us to counter the Grentl electromagnetic pulse with a precisely-timed positron beam, resulting in the colorful display Earthbound Echtrans undoubtedly noticed. The Duchas have been told the fictitious sunspots previously reported to their media created an unusually intense display of “Northern Lights.” Our Scientists were assisted in their efforts by our new Sovereign, who learned important details about the Grentl plan via her communications with them. Her diplomacy also resulted in the Grentl withdrawal from solar space. The Echtran Council extends its gratitude to Sovereign Emileia for her help in preventing what could have been a terrible catastrophe by exhibiting yet again that she has the qualities necessary to lead our people into a brighter future.”

Practically flinging the tablet back at Breann, I glared around the room. “Rigel’s name wasn’t even mentioned! He risked his life every bit as much as I did!”

“We, ah, were concerned that our people might be unnecessarily upset by hearing how close they came to losing another Sovereign.” Breann’s tone was placating, but I wasn’t placated in the least.

“So you decided to play down my role and not mention Rigel’s at all? The President of the United States—a Duchas—knows more about what really happened than our own people do!”

Malcolm frowned. “Kyna assured us that the President has sworn absolute secrecy as to the precise—”

“That’s not the point and you know it!”

Mrs. O, who’d been quiet all evening, leaned forward. “Excellency—M—try to calm down, do. Most of us felt certain our people would be more reassured by a Scientific explanation than with some fantastical-seeming story about graell bonds.”

Though she spoke soothingly, I sensed both irritation and resentment—probably because she still hadn’t forgiven me for getting back together with Rigel. In her view I’d jilted her son, my “destined Consort,” to be with my non-Royal boyfriend—and had hurt Sean in the process. Even if Sean now understood how important it was that Rigel and I be together, I didn’t think Sean’s mother ever would, not really.

“You know—all of you know—I could never have stopped the Grentl without Rigel. Without our bond.” I was still furious. “Why do you keep trying to pretend it doesn’t exist?”

“Of course we’re grateful to young Stuart for the role he played,” Connor allowed. “We’ve already sent an official letter of thanks to him, on behalf of the Council.”

“Grateful!” I snorted. “Yet you’re willing to let people believe that nasty Echtran Enquirer article full of lies about him?”

I turned to Mr. Stuart. “You said a few days ago you’d received some nasty emails threatening Rigel. Have there been any more?”

He grimaced slightly. “More insults than threats. I, ah, haven’t told Ariel or Rigel about them. They’d had enough stress already.”

“See?” I demanded, turning back to the Council. “Rigel risked his life for you but you’re willing to let him be a target for any crazy traditionalists moving here who consider him a threat to our future. What kind of gratitude is that?”

This time it was Breann who tried to calm me down. “You must understand, Excellency, that this is still a difficult time of transition for our people. While they are relieved to have Faxon gone and the monarchy restored, the recently discovered power depletion in Nuath has shaken them badly, not to mention learning about the Grentl. It is more important than ever that they retain confidence in the Royal line—and their born Sovereign.”

“Not at the expense of Rigel’s safety,” I insisted.

“Perhaps a security detail—?” Malcolm suggested.

“That won’t change what people think about him.” I imagined the new students at school making snide comments to his face, having no idea how much they owed him. “Send another message, this time with the full story of what Rigel did to protect them. It’s the only fair thing to do and you know it.”

Nara nodded, then Kyna, but the Royals still looked stubborn.

“If we do that, we’ll have to reveal how you and Stuart stopped the EMP,” Malcolm pointed out. “That would include details about the potentially lethal electrical bolts you and he are able to produce. Surely you don’t want your subjects to grow afraid of you?”

Breann and Connor and Mrs. O all murmured their agreement with that argument but I refused to back down.

“Figure out a way to word it so you don’t scare people, then. Because if you don’t issue a statement in the next day or two, I will. I imagine Mr. Stuart and Shim will both be willing to make sure it reaches everyone.”

“Hm. Yes, Excellency, now that you mention it, perhaps that would be best.” Malcolm glanced at Mrs. O.

“I agree.” She also seemed oddly pleased with the idea. “If you write the statement yourself, Excellency, there can be no question of the Council inadvertently upsetting you again by our phrasing. A very good suggestion, Malcolm.”

“Fine,” I snapped.

Giving Rigel full credit was the surest way to keep him safe and finally get all Martians to accept us as a couple. With all these new Echtrans coming to Jewel, including students at school who’d encounter Rigel and me on a regular basis, that was more important than ever.

I was determined to have that statement written before I went to bed tonight.

When I got home, just a couple minutes past nine o’clock, Uncle Louie was dozing in front of the TV and Aunt Theresa was doing a crossword puzzle. She looked up quickly when I poked my head into the living room, her expression—and emotions—betraying her curiosity.

I thought sure she’d ask about the meeting, but after staring at me for a second, she just said, “I’m glad they didn’t keep you too late. Is all of your homework done?”

“Oh. Um, almost. I’ll…get right on that.”

I lingered for another moment in case she really did want to ask me anything, but she turned back to her crossword. With a little shrug, I headed upstairs.

Though I wanted to get started on that statement right away, I first reached out for Rigel with my mind. Hey, are you there? Can you talk?

Sure. Just a sec, he sent back a few heartbeats later.

Since his parents didn’t know we could communicate from this far away, he probably needed to get someplace away from his mom so she wouldn’t guess what was going on.

While I waited, I pulled some books out of my backpack and spread them on my desk so it would look like I really was doing homework if Aunt Theresa happened to check on me. Not that I expected her to, the way she’d been acting lately. I’d written and scratched out three different opening sentences to my statement when Rigel’s voice sounded in my mind.

Okay, I’m in my room now. What’s the deal? Oops, sounds like Dad just got home. Back in a few, okay?

Though frustrated at the delay, I didn’t argue. I had time to write and scratch out two whole paragraphs before Rigel finally came back.

Sorry, Dad wanted to tell Mom and me all about the meeting. Wow, nearly two hundred new Echtrans coming to town? He sure didn’t hint there’d be that many this morning! I could sense Rigel was as taken aback by the number as I’d been.

It sounded like some of the Council only got the details tonight.

But this had to be in the works for a while, right? he asked, just like I had.

Some of it was, but they claimed they didn’t know for sure how many were coming until a week or so ago. And that was right when—

All hell broke loose, he finished for me.

Yeah. So they decided not to say anything about the newcomers last week because they didn’t want to distract me.

Maybe a good call, considering?

I wasn’t nearly as ready to absolve the Council. Maybe. I still think they should have told me. And there’s more.

Uh-oh, Mom’s calling me. We can talk more tomorrow at school if we don’t get another chance tonight, okay?

Okay, I sent back reluctantly. Love you!

Love you, too, M!

His presence in my mind disappeared and I let out a frustrated sigh, feeling slightly drained. Long-distance telepathy took a lot more effort than when we were closer, so maybe waiting till we were face to face to tell him the rest would be better.

Rigel was bound to be even more upset than I was that the Council hadn’t mentioned him in their statement. If I could show him at least a draft of my follow-up, he’d know the omission was temporary, which might help. I got back to work.

But no matter how I worded my description of what really happened Friday night, it sounded like I was either tooting my own horn or giving Rigel top billing—which I knew he wouldn’t allow. I was mostly okay with the Council singing our praises but it felt super weird and awkward for me to do it myself.

I suddenly realized that Malcolm and Mrs. O must have foreseen this exact problem—which would explain why they were so eager to have me write the follow-up statement I’d demanded.

Finally, rubbing my tired eyes, I gave it up for the evening. Tomorrow I’d talk it over with Rigel. Together, I was sure we could come up with something both accurate and (relatively) humble. We had to.