'Grant, I need you to hold for a second while I check on something. “
'Okay,' Bertram said.
Margolin put the cell phone on hold, then placed it on a white noise box to prevent any stray sounds from getting through. 'An old buddy of mine from back in the day… he's a colonel in the army now… -just called from New York City. It seems he's captured Tess Harding, Michael Guerin, and Isabel Evans. “
Bartolli raised an eyebrow. 'Think they split up? “
'Sounds like that could be the case.' Margolin held up the three printouts that Harrison had sent him of the intercepted e-mails. 'These are from Liz Parker, Maria DeLuca, and Kyle Valenti. “
'Maybe the aliens split off from the humans?' Bartolli offered.
'We don't know what Parker is, since she's exhibited unusual abilities as well.' Margolin's mind flashed back to a very frightened woman they had interrogated in Roswell; after Max and Liz had rescued her from a mugger, she'd been reluctant to give details about her saviors. Bartolli had 'persuaded' her to help them.
'So, where's Max Evans? “
'A very good question,' Margolin said. 'Is he with his brunette girlfriend, or was he with his old blond girlfriend? Bertram says no others were recovered, but it sounds like there might have been room for escape. “
'Three in the hand in New York, a few more about to be captured in Wyoming. I'd say we've got a pretty good grouping of them,' Bartolli said, grinning.
Margolin nodded. He picked up the phone and toggled it on. 'You there, Grant? “
'Yes, sir. You could get better elevator music to play on your 'hold' line than that Barry Manilow stuff, though. “
'I'll work on that. Meanwhile, we're on our way there right now, by plane. Give us an hour. And give me the location of the building you're in. “
Margolin scribbled the address down, and then spoke again. 'Grant, you need to play dose attention to this. Under no circumstances are you, or any other persons, to have contact with these three. Got it? No one. “
'Got it. “
'I assume you have them in airtight rooms? “
'Of course. “
Margolin smiled. 'Good. We'll have a little cocktail prepared for them when we get there. Thanks for the call, Grant. Excellent work. It won't go unnoticed if I have anything to say about it. “
Margolin rang off, and turned to Bartolli. 'Let's go get ourselves some aliens. “
Maria shifted slightly to get more comfortable, trying not to wake Michael. They were lying in the back of the Microbus on their sleeping bags. Liz had told them that she was going off with Isabel, not so subtly offering them some much-needed time alone.
For about two minutes, she and Michael had made out, and then Michael had fallen asleep. Maria was more frustrated than offended; she knew how much energy Michael had expended that day, even if she hadn't been conscious to see it. But she'd still wanted him to be with her.
Feeling him breathing next to her, looking at his peaceful face, she could almost get lost in the moment. Almost forget that they were dressed in one of their five changes of clothes, traveling with four of their friends in a van, on the run from government goons and skin-shedding aliens.
Almost, but not quite.
Four years ago, she never would have imagined her life would be what it was today. Not even in a creative writing assignment in Mrs. Wong's class. Four years ago, her best friends were Liz Parker and Alex Whitman, and she sometimes hung out with the granola- rock crowd.
Working at the Crashdown Cafe as a waitress was her job, but she'd always had bigger dreams. Music and the stage called to her, and she knew that one day kids would be singing along to her songs like they did to the music of Melissa Etheridge or E J. Harvey or Dido. She wasn't sure exactly how she was going to get out of Roswell, but she knew she would. She once shared that dream with Billy Darden, the boy she'd met at band camp at the age of thirteen, the first boy she had ever kissed.
And then, on that fateful day in September, 1999, Liz had been shot at the Crashdown, the victim of a random altercation. In the days and weeks that followed, Maria was inexorably drawn into a secret world that had existed around her for years without her knowledge. Her mother made cheap alien tchotchkes for her shop, never realizing that three of Maria's new friends actually were half alien.
Looking back at the last four years, Maria sometimes had a difficult time seeing the good that had come from her association with the aliens. Her grades had suffered, her mother's Jetta had certainly suffered, and her other friendships had all but evaporated. And then Alex had been killed, as part of Tess's alien plot.
The only positive result was her relationship with Michael, and even that was tumultuous at best. His moods were so mercurial that she was never sure if her comments or attention would set him off. Manic- depressive, thy name is Michael, she often thought. Not that she was the poster child for emotional stability, but she realized that their relationship mirrored that of her mother and father, when they had been together. But just because she was aware of the emotional roller coaster that life with Michael represented, that knowledge didn't seem to help her stay away from him. It was a kind of codependency, and she was caught in its loop.
Because she loved him. And he loved her.
But was that enough? She had finally gotten a chance to pursue her lifelong goal last year. Performing with Jim Valenti and his neo-country band, The Kit-Shickers, she had been spotted by music producers and was offered a recording contract in New York City. But she soon discovered that they wanted to 'manufacture' her, to remold her into a pop princess rather than allow her to make the kind of music that was important to her.
Before leaving for the big city, Maria had talked with Liz. She still remembered what Liz had said: 'You should find a way to compromise without losing what's important to you, because if you don't do this, you are always going to be miserable. “
Shortly afterward, she had turned down the music producers and returned to the alien drama that was Roswell. And a few months later, she had been forced to choose between a life on the run with Michael and her friends, or staying behind in the small town to face a certain, if dull, future.
But is my future any less uncertain now? What do I have to look forward to? I'm not doing any music now, my relationship with Michael isn't growing, and, on top of that, I got tasered today I Michael snored quietly beside her, and sleepily placed his hand on her arm.
The touch was electric, but not alien. Maria was keenly aware that of all the members of their group, she was the only one who not only wasn't alien but also hadn't been made partially alien by Max's healing powers.
She could walk away and never worry about being burdened with seeing the future, or shooting sparks from her fingertips. She was a completely normal human girl who just happened to be in love with an alien guy.
But she could walk away.
Couldn't she? Liz stood on the corner and looked down the street. At first, she didn't recognize the two men coming toward her a few blocks away, and then the light from a passing car illuminated them briefly. Max and Kyle! Backing up, Liz turned and headed down the block toward the pay phone on which Isabel was talking to Jesse. They hadn't been conversing for very long, but Max and Kyle had apparently
