Authors: Brenda Hiatt
“I have several theories,” he said after just a slight hesitation, “but they mostly involve wildly improbable political and military scenarios. I’ve probably been playing too much Starcraft lately. Until we actually know something, there’s no point assuming there’s more going on than they’ve told us.”
He transferred my gear bag to his left hand so he could hold mine with his right. Though his touch gave me the same thrill as always, it also let his emotions come though more strongly and I was sure now that he was keeping something from me.
“So you don’t think they’re conspiring with Allister to ship me off to Montana or Ireland or something?” Those were the two main Martian settlements on Earth—and that was the possibility that worried me most.
Rigel gave my hand a squeeze. “I don’t think so, no. If they are, we definitely won’t let them get away with it.”
“Promise?” I stopped walking to make him look at me. He did.
“Promise,” he said, holding my gaze until I was sure he was telling me the truth. “Haven’t I sworn I won’t let anything happen to you, M?”
I relaxed enough to start walking again, but said, “There’s more you’re not telling me. Can’t you at least share
one
theory? What did you start to say this morning?”
“You’re a little too perceptive sometimes, you know that? Okay, probably the most likely thing I can think of is that Allister’s hoping you’ll spend more time with Molly . . . and Sean . . . and less with me. That they’ll have an easier time getting you on board with the whole Sovereign thing than he’s had. Get you invested in it.”
“And that worries you.” It was a statement, since I could feel it from him.
He just shrugged, and I let it drop. For now. I’d get more out of him eventually. But as long as nobody was trying to take me away from Rigel, I could face whatever political machinations they might be planning.
“So, want to try meeting at the arboretum tonight, since last night didn’t work out?” I asked after we’d walked a little way in silence.
Rigel grimaced and I could feel a new frustration emanating from him. “I don’t think I can. My grandfather arrives tonight so they’ll expect me to stick around.”
“Oh, that’s right. But . . . I thought you were looking forward to seeing him?”
He shrugged. “I am. But I’d much rather spend time with you. It feels like we never get any time alone lately.”
It did feel that way. I mostly blamed Aunt Theresa and all her stupid rules, but Rigel’s folks didn’t seem quite as eager to have us spend time together as they used to, either. Or maybe I was just being paranoid.
“Once Allister leaves it’ll be better,” I said, willing it to be true.
“Yeah.” But he sounded less than positive about it.
The past month had been hands-down the happiest of my life. By, like, several orders of magnitude. Which meant I was both terrified it couldn’t last, and determined to fight tooth and nail if anyone tried to take it away from me.
That line of thinking—not to mention the energy boost from Rigel’s goodbye kiss at the door of the do jang—put me in an interesting mood for taekwondo class. I’d been steadily improving ever since Rigel and I had first touched in late August, but today it was like I was supercharged.
Master Parker came over to me after class ended. “Marsha, your sparring today was spectacular. I’d really like you to consider entering the regional tournament coming up in February. I think you’d do the school proud.”
“Thank you, sir. I’ll, um, ask my aunt.”
“Do that. If she isn’t keen on the idea, let me know and I can speak to her.”
I nodded without committing. Though I was flattered, I wasn’t sure competing in an actual tournament, with lots of people watching, was a great idea. I was feeling visible enough these days.
I changed out of my do bok and headed home, wishing now that Rigel and I had walked faster earlier so we could have had time for more than one kiss. Not that we’d progressed
beyond
kissing—we were both a little afraid of what could happen, considering what just kissing did to us—but we hadn’t had a good make out session for over a week. It always seemed like someone was watching us or one of us had to be somewhere.
With a sigh, I trudged past the half dozen jewelry and craft shops on Diamond and turned up Opal toward Garnet Street, remembering our first secret meeting in the cornfield by the school. It had been such a magical afternoon. I’d only learned the truth about Rigel—and myself—a few days earlier and I’d been full of questions. He’d told me all about the
graell
—our bond—and about some of the Martian political stuff I still needed to learn so much about.
But what I mostly remembered about that day was the kissing, and how I’d felt when Rigel made it clear he liked me as much as I liked him.
Of course, my
last
memory of that clearing in the cornfield wasn’t warm and fuzzy at all, since that’s where the big showdown between Faxon’s forces and my defenders had taken place. If Shim hadn’t been so convincing—and if Rigel and I hadn’t amazed everyone (including ourselves) by creating the lightning bolt that destroyed that awful Ossian Sphere—we’d probably all be dead now and Faxon’s forces would be well on their way to conquering Earth.
“There you are,” Aunt Theresa greeted me the second I opened the front door. “What took you so long getting home? I hear thunder in the distance.”
“Sorry.” It never paid to argue with Aunt Theresa.
“Well, go shower, then come down and snap the beans for me. Then you can do your homework.”
Something in her voice caught my attention. “Is something wrong?”
“Wrong? Of course not.” She hmphed. “But I did tell Lili O’Gara that you’d go over there after dinner to tutor Molly and Sean. So we’re eating at seven, whether Louie is home or not.”
I couldn’t squelch a spurt of resentment. “You told her without asking me? What if I’d had plans?” Not that I did, but still.
“Plans you haven’t cleared with me?” She arched one iron gray brow in that way that always made me feel like I’d screwed up. “Do you?” she prompted when I didn’t respond.
“No,” I grudgingly admitted. “I just wish you’d asked me first, that’s all.”
Now she frowned. “You seemed willing enough when Lili asked you last night.”
“I am. It’s just . . . Never mind. It’s fine. I’ll go shower.”
By the time we sat down to dinner—Uncle Louie made it with two minutes to spare—I was over my snit. In fact, I was looking forward to a chance to learn more about the O’Garas, and the village in Ireland, and Mars, and maybe even their actual reason for being here, if there really was more going on than they’d admitted. I ate quickly, then did the dishes in record time.
“The O’Garas are on Opal, right? What’s the house number?” I asked as I stuffed my history book into my backpack.
Uncle Louie told me and I headed out. It was starting to drizzle, but the thunder had moved off and I was only going around the corner, so I didn’t bother with an umbrella. Less than five minutes later, I rang the doorbell of a house very similar to ours—a little Victorian with gingerbread trim, a deep front porch and slightly peeling paint.
I hoped I wasn’t walking into the dragon’s den.
omni
:
a small, multifunctional device developed on Mars
The doorbell had barely sounded when Sean opened the door and greeted me with a big smile. “Hullo, M, come in, do. Don’t mind the mess.”
He held the door and I stepped past him into the foyer, noticing again how tall he was. I was careful not to brush against him.
“Thanks. Is Molly home, too?”
“Sure look it, in here.” He motioned with his head for me to follow him and we went into a small living room similar to ours. In fact, the house seemed to be laid out almost the same, except in reverse, with the kitchen off to the left, the living room to the right and the stairs straight ahead.
“Hi, M,” Molly said, looking up from a desk in the corner with a smile. “Thanks for coming.”
There were a few big moving boxes in the corners, but otherwise it looked like they were nearly settled in already.
“No problem. Though I can’t imagine you guys really need much help.” Considering how fast Rigel (and now I) could read, I figured they could finish the whole textbook in a day or two.
Molly shrugged. “It’s not like we’ve ever studied the United States, since we never expected to come here until—”
“Yeah, I know. Until everybody found out about me.” I crossed the room to join her at the desk and she shoved some books off a chair to make room for me. Sean dragged another chair over and sat on my other side.
“All we got back home was general Earth History,” he explained, flipping open the textbook on the desk, “so we really could use some help—especially with the stuff that’s not in books, stuff everyone just knows. Afterwards, our folks thought you might, um, have some questions we could answer?”
I drew in a quick, eager breath. “Now that you mention it—” I began, but just then their mother poked her head around the corner.
“Ah, welcome, Excellency! Er, M, rather. Can I get you a cup of tea?” Then, before I could answer, she blushed and exclaimed, “Oh, how silly of me! You’ve been raised in America. Of course you don’t want tea. Perhaps a soft drink?”
Mrs. O’Gara was so embarrassed and eager to please that it made
me
embarrassed. I hoped she’d stop acting weird around me soon, or I’d start avoiding her—even though it was kind of nice to be fussed over.
“Actually, tea would be great, thanks,” I said. “I drink tea all the time.”
“Oh! Oh, that’s lovely.” She seemed way more relieved than the situation called for. “Perhaps something herbal? What do you like?”
“Oh, uh, anything’s fine. Peppermint, chamomile, whatever you have. Thanks!”
She nodded and disappeared. In the awkward silence that followed, it felt inappropriate to start peppering them with questions about Mars. Plus, I suddenly felt a little too aware of Sean sitting next to me. Clearing my throat, I turned to Molly.
“So, did you go to cheerleading practice today?”
She nodded. “Trina talked me into trying out and . . . I think I may join. It would be a way to meet people. You should do it, too, M.”
I laughed. “You’ve got to be kidding! I’m positive Trina didn’t suggest that.”
“Well, no, but—“
“Trust me, even if I tried out I’d never make the squad. I’m kind of a klutz”—well, I used to be, anyway—“and Trina hates me.”
Sean made a disbelieving sound. “How could anyone—? Well, her loss, if so.”
But Molly’s eyebrows drew together worriedly. “I, um, could tell you aren’t exactly friends.”
“That’s putting it mildly. I doubt there’s anyone in the school she likes less than me. We’ve had a kind of feud going since third grade.” A mostly one-sided feud, with Trina embarrassing me every chance she got. But lately I’d gotten better at defending myself against her—mostly thanks to Rigel, I reminded myself.
Molly looked alarmed. “In that case, maybe I shouldn’t spend time with her.”
“What? No! If they want you on the squad, you should totally join.”
“Um, ladies? History?” Sean prompted, clearly tired of our girl talk.
But Molly just grimaced at him. “You really think I should?” she asked me.
“Sure. It’s like an express lane to popularity and you’ll probably have fun, too. And, uh, get to cheer for Sean at basketball games.” I glanced at him as I said that and caught him watching me with a strange, quizzical smile. Flustered, I quickly turned back to Molly.
“You’re sure?” Her brow had unfurrowed and I could tell she really wanted to.
“Absolutely. Though I can’t promise Trina won’t give you a hard time for being friends with me. That is, if you still—”
“Of course I want to be friends with you!” Her vehemence was flattering. “It’s what we—” She glanced past me to Sean, then said, “I mean, even if you weren’t . . . who you are, you’re the only other
Echtran
girl in Jewel. And besides, I think you’re really nice.”
I couldn’t help smiling, though I wondered what she’d almost said—and whether Sean had stopped her. “Thanks. And ditto.”
Mrs. O’Gara bustled in with peppermint tea for all of us, made sure I had a napkin and enough sugar, then left us alone again.
“So, are there any classes besides history you guys need help with?” I asked as soon as their mother was gone, though I really wanted to ask about Mars stuff. Maybe there’d be time later.
“Not really,” Sean said. “The rest is rather, uh—”
“Simplistic?” I said when he hesitated. “I guess coming from Mars, our math and science seems pretty primitive, huh?”
He shrugged, looking sheepish. “Kind of, yeah.”
“Sean!” Molly protested. “That’s not—”
“It’s okay,” I reassured her. “I’m not insulted or anything. It just makes sense.”
She watched my face for a moment, then seemed satisfied I wasn’t upset and nodded.
“So, history?” I pulled out my own book and started going over what we’d covered so far this year, pointing out the stuff Mrs. George had spent the most time on, which was most likely to be on the next test. Sean seemed especially interested in the U.S. Constitution and branches of government.
“It’s weird how similar our Nuathan government is in some things and how different in others,” he remarked. “Like, we both have two-house legislatures and a separate judicial system, but we have hereditary Sovereigns instead of elected presidents.”
“Until Faxon,” I said, and they both grimaced. “Maybe not so strange, though, when you think about it,” I suggested. “I mean, Martians have been on Earth for what, five hundred years now? And communicating with folks back on Mars that whole time. So it makes sense they’d copy anything that seemed to work well here, just like we copied some things from England. Honestly, I’m surprised the monarchy lasted as long in Nuath as it did.”