'But if Max comes through okay…' Alex let his sentence trail off.
Isabel took a deep breath and sighed. 'Then… then I might end up going.'
Stop! Maria ordered her feet. Stop right there.
But her feet kept walking as if they had minds of their own-walking back toward the museum, even though she'd only left the place a few hours before.
'Turn around,' she pleaded, feeling so desperate, she was willing to be seen talking to her feet on a public sidewalk. The feet didn't obey. Step by step by step, they kept taking her closer to the museum. To Michael.
Her feet marched her across the UFO parking lot, then straight up the stairs. Maria's hand seemed to have its own brain, too. It opened the apartment door, without knocking, and then the feet moved her straight inside.
Just because I'm here doesn't mean I have to say anything I don't want to say, she thought. I can just tell Michael I thought I left my jacket over here or something. Then I'll just leave. If my demonic feet will let me.
Michael stepped out of the kitchen, and Maria's heart hit her throat. He looked at her like she was the very last person on earth he wanted to see. 'Thought I heard someone come in.'
Maria's feet walked her right over to him, not stopping until there were only a few inches separating her from him. He took a step back. The feet took a step forward. Okay, ask about the jacket, she told herself.
'Tell me the exact, precise, Michael-Webster-dictionary definition of 'I'm thinking about it,'' she demanded, her voice coming out loud and defiant. Oh, God. Her mouth was possessed, too.
'What?' Michael asked, his voice low.
'Don't pull any crap, Michael. We both know exactly what I'm asking you. Are you going? Or are you staying? Tell me. Right here. Right now,' Maria insisted.
I didn't mean to say that! I didn't want to say that! she silently wailed.
Michael went into his usual lockdown mode, giving no indication of what he was thinking or feeling. 'Look, I'm not asking for much. What I want is information. And if you're leaving, I want a good-bye. You owe me that much,' Maria continued.
She didn't know who she was channeling. But whoever it was, Maria was starting to like her. Michael did owe her a good-bye. He couldn't just disappear from her life as if… as if they barely knew each other.
Michael hesitated, silence filling the room all around them. All the power and fight evaporated from Maria's body. Suddenly she was in control of her feet again. And her mouth. Whatever Michael was going to say to her, she was going to have to hear without whatever force had gotten her this far.
'Good-bye.' Michael's voice was flat. His eyes were on hers, but there was no hint of emotion in their gray depths. Not anger. Not sadness. Nothing. Something died inside Maria.
'Good-bye,' she repeated. 'That's it?'
'That's what you said you wanted,' he answered. 'What did you expect? You know I've been trying to find a way home my whole life. And the rebellion-my parents were part of that.'
His parents. Maria hadn't even thought of that. His parents had been part of the Kindred, and his brother was part of it now. Joining the group was Michael's chance at feeling like part of a family.
'Why couldn't you say that to me before?' she asked. 'If you cared about me even a little, tiny bit, you would have come out and-'
Maria stopped herself. What was the point? She was his friend. Someone he might miss a little. Someone he might think about once in a while. But she wasn't vital to him. Not like he was to her. He was her oxygen. Her water. Her sustenance. And she was his friend.
'Maria, you know I-' Michael began.
'See you tomorrow.' Maria couldn't deal with listening to him try to come up with something nice to say to her. Nice. Another weak, pathetic word. She spun around and raced for the door. Then she flew down the steps. About halfway to the ground, she stumbled. One of her feet slid on the stairs, and she fell sideways, hard.
Agony erupted in her ankle. For a moment all Maria could do was squeeze her eyes shut and let the pain wash through her. Then she grabbed the stair rail with one hand and used her other hand to straighten her leg. When she thought she could stand without screaming, she carefully limped down the remaining stairs.
Maria knew all she had to do was call up to Michael. He'd come down and heal her. That was the kind of thing you did for a
'Everyone strapped in?' Trevor asked. He and Michael had rigged a bunch of safety harnesses against the back wall of the museum. The force of the wormhole was so strong, it could suck them all in if they weren't careful. He got a yes from everyone but Liz.
'I want to stay upstairs with Max,' she said.
'Someone should be with him,' Isabel agreed, shooting Liz a grateful look.
'I don't think there'll be anything you can do,' Trevor cautioned. He didn't want her to get her hopes up. Hers or Isabel's. The chances of Max surviving the shattering of the consciousness weren't good, although Trevor didn't know for sure what would happen to
'There's nothing I can do down here, either, though, right?' Liz asked, sounding a little desperate.
'Right,' Trevor answered. The plan was either going to work or it wasn't. None of them had much control over the situation. He wished they did. This was the most important day of his life, the day the beings could begin to live in freedom, no longer forced to choose between going into hiding or becoming a part of the massive monster that was the consciousness.
'We're opening up the hole pretty much right under the kitchen. If the force gets too strong in the bedroom, go low. Just flatten yourself to the floor,' Michael told her.
Liz nodded. 'Well… good luck,' she said. It seemed like she wanted to say something more, but she just turned and headed for the spiral staircase that led up to Michael's apartment.
'See you afterward, at the postshattering bash,' Alex called after her. 'Remember, it's formal!'
'Okay, plan review,' Michael said. 'I'm using one of the Stones to open up the wormhole. Then Trevor's sending in the device. When it's close enough to the home planet-but far enough from here-he detonates it.'
'The remote will tell me if the Stone on my planet has been drained of power,' Trevor added. 'If the indicator light goes from green to red, we're in business.'
'Then Trevor and I both use a Stone to shoot power through the hole. We'll blast away until there's no juice left,' Michael concluded.
'And then we wait,' Isabel said, her voice strong even though there were wells of fear behind her eyes.
'And then we hope,' Maria added.
Hope. It was pretty much all they had.
Michael pulled his Stone from his pocket. Trevor positioned the device in one hand and the remote in the other. He felt his pocket to make sure his Stone was still there, even though he knew it was.
'Here goes,' Michael announced. He held the Stone out in front of him. Immediately it began to glow with its green-purple light. The light intensified until it was impossible for Trevor to look straight at it.
The museum went totally silent. Trevor didn't think anyone was even breathing. He knew he wasn't. Then he heard it, the soft sucking sound that indicated the hole was beginning to open. He pulled some air into his aching lungs.
We're on our way, he thought. He peered up at the ceiling, blinking away the green and purple dots that looking at the Stone had put in his vision. Yeah. There was a spot that was sort of drooping, almost oozing.
The soft patch of ceiling drooped lower. And then lower. The plaster stretched until it was as thin as a sheet of plastic wrap and almost as transparent. Trevor waited until the spot was absolutely clear. Then, with his human body pumping a stream of sweat all the way down his back, he clicked on the remote and used it to guide the device into the wormhole. The device flew up through the hole in the ceiling so fast, Trevor couldn't even track it.
