rhythmic patterns of sleep, Max lay awake. As exhausted as he was, he was even more tired of running… and of wondering what Earthly or otherworldly menace would threaten him, his friends, and his family next.
Eventually, fatigue won out, and Max fell into a deep sleep that even his nightmares didn't dare trouble.
Kal Langley stepped out of the limousine, and into a small puddle of water. Things are not going smoothly, he thought.
He had taken a break from the press tour for his latest film to go on a 'personal errand.' His limo driver knew better than to question why they were at a seedy outdoor storage facility, and he was likely looking the other way now.
Langley stepped up to the rolling door of the storage locker and grasped the pair of locks on it. Strange. I only put one lock on it, and neither of these is it. A rumble in his stomach gave voice to the suspicion that knotted there. Has someone been in here? He put his hands over the locks and mentally pushed. A slight glow came from his hand, and the locks both clicked open.
He rolled the door halfway open, ducked under it, and closed it again. No use in giving his driver any reason to ask questions. His palm glowed, lighting the area. He could immediately see that things were not as he had left them.
There were more crates and cases than he'd remembered, and the crates he was looking for weren't there. Reaching over to one of the unknown cases, he ripped it open. Thick dust sloughed off from the lid. Inside the box were bags filled with bricks of a powdery substance. Cocaine. Why is there cocaine in my storage locker? Expending only a little of his strength, he ripped the wooden top off a long rectangular crate. Inside, the packing material padded guns. Not his guns.
Langley began pushing boxes and crates aside. Some of his materials were here, but the four crates that had held the Royal Four's pods were missing. Then, he spotted something on the floor. A dark stain, surrounded by other stains.
Kneeling, he put his brightly shining palm near it. The stain was dark brown, almost black, and he was reasonably certain it was blood. The other stains were more clear, like the trails that slugs left behind them as they moved.
Langley 's mind whirled. Given the dust on the floor and the boxes of guns and drugs, it appeared that no one had been in the storage locker for years. But whoever was here last had taken the crates containing the pods. And someone had been injured here, or perhaps even killed. It appeared that the pods had been opened, if the remnants of slime on the floor were any indication.
But were they all opened? Were they all alive and unharmed? Where are they now? Langley hadn't intended to awaken the Royal Four until they were fully mature. Extended gestation inside the membranous pods would nurture their alien powers, making them stronger and more powerful the longer they remained ensconced.
Sometimes he thought that he might not awaken them at all. Why would he want to return to Antar? Besides, the other Royal Four were already living in Roswell. Or Royal Three at least, if his surveillance information was correct. Perhaps Nasedo had the fourth child, Ava, with him. Or perhaps she hadn't survived into her teens. He didn't know. He hadn't had contact with Nasedo for years.
Today was supposed to just be a check-in to make sure that nothing had gone wrong with the pods, whatever he decided to do with them in the future.
Something was definitely wrong. The Royal Four was missing. Luckily, Langley had resources.
While Rath and Lonnie made out on the sidewalk, Zan and Ava chose several slices of hot pizza from the twenty-four-hour pizza joint on the corner. Zan grabbed a handful of sugar packets from the condiment area; they'd help season the spicy pepperoni to suit the group's alien palates.
Zan looked over at Ava as she went to 'pay' the clerk. He always enjoyed watching her work her mindwarp mojo. She handed the clerk a bar flyer she had picked up from the sidewalk outside, and asked, 'Can you break this? “
'Sure,' the man said agreeably. He counted out thirty-eight dollars in change and handed it back to Ava. Grinning, she turned and came over to Zan.
They exited the shop and handed Rath and Lonnie their slices. Zan sprinkled the sugar over his, and handed packets to the others so that they could do the same. None of them knew why they liked such a high contrast of sweet and sour tastes together; their favorite mixture lately had been horseradish over ice cream.
'Got us some money, too,' Ava said. 'What say we go dancing? “
'Sounds good to me,' Lonnie said. 'How about Club Rent? “
Rath seemed distracted, and looked over his shoulder for the third time in the last minute.
'What's up? Ava toasted the pizza guy's brain,' Zan said. 'He's not gonna come after us. “
'Not him,' Rath said. 'Somebody else has been bogey-ing us. Old balding guy. Dressed in black. He's been following us for the last twenty minutes. “
Zan looked back over his shoulder and saw a man matching the description Rath had given standing on the opposite side of the street. He didn't seem to flinch when he saw Zan looking at him. And he clearly was watching them.
'Turn up this alley here,' Zan said. 'And don't act like anything'sup. “
The four of them moved into the alley, chatting and laughing and eating their pizza. As soon as they were past a car parked in the alley, Rath ducked behind it, while the others continued on their way.
Zan turned his head slightly as they neared the end of the alley on the other side, and saw that the man was indeed following them. Almost there, Zan thought.
And then Rath stepped up from his crouch behind the car, unleashing a blast from his hands that threw the man up against the brick wall on the other side of the alley.
As the others turned to run back toward Rath, Zan was astonished to see the older man shake off the blast and raise his own hand, releasing a pulse of energy that sent a surprised Rath tumbling across the hood of a car.
Zan, Ava, and Lonnie raised their hands in unison, palms outward, toward the man. 'Who are you?' Zan asked loudly. 'If you're looking for trouble, you found it. “
The man smiled. Zan noticed he looked a lot like the weasely Cypher guy from The Matrix, and that he was dressed awfully well. 'I'm not looking for trouble,' the man said. 'I'm looking for you. The Royal Four. “
An hour later Kal Langley had imparted all of the knowledge to the Royal Four that he planned to for now. He wasn't sure what their destiny was, but at sixteen years of age, none of them seemed overly concerned with getting back to their home planet.
When they told him they had a lair underneath the New York city streets… 'an underground lair like Lex Luthor had in the first Superman movie,' Rath had bragged… Langley had offered to help them secure some aboveground lodgings. Although he didn't say it, they stank, and their post-punk outfits and lifestyle were hardly conducive to a prosperous future.
They had turned him down, intent on making it 'on their own.' They did accept the alien artifacts he gave them, however, as well as the knowledge that he shared with them. But that was all they said they wanted.
We'll see where they are in a couple years, Langley thought as he bid them good-bye. They're a lot tougher than that Roswell group.
En route to New York City. Fall 2002.
As Bartolli gave the members of the strike team their instructions as to how to
