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The photographer took a knee, facing the far doorway. I gaped and nearly let a childish giggle escape my lips when I saw his face. Steven Callup: one of the most celebrated photographers of the last few years. He was also the dude who’d taken the shots of Dad and me that had ended up on the covers of
National Geographic
and
TIME Magazine
.

How freaking awesome was that?

I gulped, trying to muster up the courage to say hello when two MPs escorted a tall man who looked a lot like the guy from that lightning movie—the water god. Umm, Poseidon—except this guy’s dark brown hair hung to his shoulders. I cocked my head and looked more closely. No, this dude didn’t only look like him. He actually was him. I guess that explained Steven Callup being here.

The man stopped in the center of the room. His eyes fixed on me, and my blood raced. My hands quaked, and it took all my strength to keep from bolting toward the door. Scenes from another movie this actor had starred in flashed through my mind, where he’d played a not-so-nice hit man. The heebie-jeebies crawled down my spine.

Nematali stepped forward. “Evander Odium Modaner.” She lowered her head to Poseidon-guy. “May I present Jessica Natalie Martinez.”

Natalie? That was my mom’s name, not mine.

Poseidon touched his forehead and closed his eyes. “Jessica Natalie, it is a pleasure.”

I half expected the light accent I remembered in the movies, until I realized he was an Erescopian. He’d stolen a skin, just like David had done. These aliens sure had a knack for snatching up the hotties.

I mimicked the head-touchy thing. For all I knew I was sticking up my middle finger at him, but hey, he started it. “It’s just Jess. My name, I mean. Nice to meet you, too.”

He scanned the room, his gaze settling on each person. It creeped me out. Was he sizing everyone up, just like he’d done in that movie before he started shooting people?

Chill out, Jess. It’s not the same guy.

“It has come to our attention,” he began, “that there is a significant amount of distrust as well as interest in my people.”

Dad and General Baker’s eyes flashed with a big old
what did you expect
look.

“In the name of good will, and to show that we harbor no malice to your people, the Caretakers have decided to allow a single human photographer aboard one of our research vessels. This individual will be allowed to photograph and interact with my people and, of course, bring pictures back to share.”

Wow. How cool would that be? The first human on an Erescopian ship!

The ambassador scanned the room again. “We believe this will be beneficial to both our races at this important juncture in our relationship. So, you will understand that we were very selective in choosing the correct person for this task.”

Steven Callup lowered his camera and took a step forward. “I’m honored.” He held out his hand to Poseidon-dude, whose real name I’d already forgotten.

Poseidon stared at Callup, not taking his hand. “We would like that person to be Jessica Natalie Martinez.”

“What?” Steven Callup and Dad said at the same time.

“No.” Dad stepped forward. “No way. I just got her back.”

“It makes no sense,” Callup said. “She’s only a kid. You’d want a serious, seasoned photographer out there. Not some amateur.”

“Some amateur?” Dad pointed at me. “My daughter could snap pictures around your ass, Callup.” He turned back to Poseidon. “But she’s still not going.”

Okay, wow.
Did Dad just stand up for my photography?
Go, Dad!
But not on the “she’s not going” part. That part sucked.

“Do I get a say in this?” I asked.

“No,” Callup and Dad said in unison. Had they rehearsed that or something?

Poseidon held up his hand, and the room went silent. “Jessica Natalie Martinez is a name my people are familiar with. They do not know Steven Sarah Callup.”

Sarah?

“Jessica Natalie Martinez will be welcomed. She will be granted more opportunities than a stranger to our people. Jessica Natalie is our photographer. So it has been decided.”

Whoa.
Totally spoken like a guy who’s used to getting what he wants.

“Nothing’s been decided,” Dad said. “I’m not letting my daughter anywhere near another spaceship.”

Poseidon-guy tilted his head as if contemplating Dad before turning to me. “I have the understanding that in your culture once a child achieves eighteen years of life, they are considered an adult and are able to make their own decisions. Am I correct in this?”

Darn, his eyes were blue.
I remembered gazing into David’s eyes the first time. The turquoise freaked me out initially, but wow, were they a gorgeous color.

Oh, we weren’t talking about colors; we were talking about decisions. Me—eighteen and all decision-worthy. Imagine that.

Dad’s cheeks exploded in an interesting shade of purplish-red.

I sidestepped toward him, since Poseidon had totally invaded my personal space, and pulled my father to the side. “Dad, this is the photo-op of a lifetime.”

“What happened to taking pictures of the news and not being the news?”

“I’m not going to be news. I’m going up, taking a few pictures, and coming back. What could go wrong?”

He folded his arms and raised one eyebrow.

Okay, so maybe last time I snuck out to take pictures I ran into a guy from another planet and nearly got killed a few times, but that worked out, right? And now, everyone knew there were aliens, so it was no biggie anymore.

When the other eyebrow shot up, I knew he wouldn’t come around to my thinking.

Shoot.
Please forgive me, Dad.

I turned to Poseidon. “You’re right. I am eighteen, and I’d love to be your photographer.”

Dad growled.

Dang, he actually
growled
! I lowered my eyes, careful not to look at him. If I did, I knew he’d use “The Voice,” or stare me down with those Major Tomás Martinez eyes, and I’d be doing time locked in solitary confinement for the next month.

Nope, I wasn’t going there. At least not yet. I wouldn’t mind being locked up in my room once I had pictures of an alien spaceship to rifle through, though.

“Excellent,” Poseidon said. “We will leave immediately.”

Huh?
“Immediately? As in now?”

Dad slid between me and the alien with all the grace of a gazelle—a gazelle ready to kick someone’s rear end two ways from Sunday, but still a gazelle.

“Stand down, Tom,” General Baker said.

“I’m not letting them take my daughter.”

The general placed his hand on Dad’s shoulder. That simple gesture calmed both their faces. One second he was General Baker, the next second he was Dad’s longtime friend. “The ambassador has personally guaranteed her safety. She’ll be fine.”

“You knew? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Gentlemen,” Poseidon interrupted. “My schedule does not allow for delay.”

Dad’s hands formed fists. “I’m going with her.”

“The Caretakers have granted access for one,” Poseidon said.

“Then get permission for one more.” Dad’s eyes blazed as he leaned toward him.

Damn, he could be scary.

The Erescopian didn’t balk. “Only. One.”

General Baker moved between them. “I’ll have her at your ship in fifteen minutes.”

6

Fifteen minutes? I guess packing fresh underwear was out of the question.

Poseidon and Nematali disappeared through one of the three doors in the room, while the general herded Callup, Dad, and I through the other.

“This is crazy, Jack,” Dad said. “Why only one, and why a kid?”

“This is the first opportunity we’ve gotten from them, Tom. We need to take advantage of it.”

“You wouldn’t say that if it were Maggie.”

The general flinched. His eyes darted to me. “Jess is tough as nails. Like her father. She can do what we need her to do.”

“Need her to do?”

Callup plopped his bag on a table set beside the window and switched out the lens on his Nikon. “They are going to bring you along a very safe path when you get up there. Take pictures of everything you see. Do you have a camera?”

“Yeah.” I unzipped my backpack and showed him Old Reliable.

His nose turned up. “Piece of crap. Take mine. I’ve got a spare in the car.” He handed me his Nikon.

Hand shaking, I reached for the golden goose of all cameras, but hesitated. Enough buttons adorned the casing to make NASA proud. I salivated, dreaming of sitting back and figuring out what each setting could do. It would take hours. Long, glorious, fun-filled hours that I didn’t have.

I shook my head. “Sorry, I feel more comfortable with my own. It’s not as fancy, but it’s definitely not a piece of crap.”

He shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He placed the camera back into the bag. “Being a photojournalist is not just about taking pictures. It’s about knowing what to take, and how to get the shot. You want to take the pictures they are not expecting. You need to see the things they don’t show you. Don’t be afraid to get the real story.”

Dad pulled me away from him. “Do exactly what they tell you to do, and only take pictures of what they say you can. Don’t make waves.”

Callup shook his head like Dad was the king of Loserville.

The general took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “The Erescopians have not been forthright in sharing any technology. Any information you can obtain … ”

“Dammit, Jack,” Dad said. “She’s not a spy. She’s a kid.”

“That kid’s about to go into the belly of the beast,” Callup interjected. “Earth needs an edge. Photojournalists who slip behind enemy lines have provided that advantage for years. The pictures we get out of combat zones are some of the best intel our boys receive.” He shifted his weight. “Risk is a given. It’s part of the job.”

“Screw the job.” Dad stepped in front of me. “I’m not letting you put her in danger.”

I shoved him to the side. “Dad, no one is putting me in danger.” I trembled, knowing that wasn’t entirely true. Part of me was scared to death, but the part that didn’t like being sheltered salivated over the chance to do something exciting. I turned to Callup. “What do you need me to do?”

He handed me a memory card. “This should fit your camera. It’s enough for about ten thousand pictures. Fill it—no matter how trivial a picture seems. You never know what might be in the background that you didn’t see.”

I nodded. Easy enough.

“Don’t be afraid to hold the camera around a corner and snap a picture without looking. After taking a shot of the main subject, zoom in on something else, but make them think you’re still taking pictures of them. Exploit any and all opportunities.”

Whoa.
I would never have thought of that.

The general pointed at me. “Information. That’s what we need, but that’s not what we’re getting. We need to know what’s going on up there. We need to know if Earth is still at risk.”

The trip didn’t seem all that exciting anymore. I gulped and wiped the dampness from my forehead.

Callup checked his watch. “We have four minutes.”

“Can I have three of them?” Dad asked.

The general nodded, and the two men left the room.

My heart fluttered and my mind reeled, repeating Callup’s directions. Was I really going to do this?
Could
I do this?

I waited for Dad’s obligatory speech begging me not to go. Part of me was ready to give in, to stay where it was safe. But safe never got anyone anywhere.

Dad took two swift strides and pulled me into a hug. “Don’t listen to them. Don’t take any risks.”

I relished his embrace, but his arms suddenly felt like giant shields trying to smother me. When Mom was alive, it was all about what could be: taking the future by the horns and wrestling it into tomorrow, whatever that meant. Dad had been a big part of that, but I hadn’t seen that version of him in over a year. Now it was all about status quo, not taking risks, playing it safe. I couldn’t be that person. I guess he was right. There was too much of Mom in me.

“I have to do this, Dad.”

“I know you do.”

I released our hug. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

His eyes widened. “Dammit, Natalie.” He clutched his temples and turned from me.

Did he just call me Natalie?

The veins in his neck and arms pulsed. He grabbed the back of a chair.

“Dad?”

He turned with the agility of a lethal weapon poised to strike. His eyes flared. I stepped back. This man wasn’t my father. He blinked, and the demon soldier disappeared.

Holy heck, what was that?

“Dad, you’re scaring me. Are you okay?”

His hands trembled, still clutching the chair. He took deep, slow breaths. “There was a kid under my command in Iraq—Colin, Colin Masters. About two minutes before he stepped into an ambush, he told us he’d ‘be back before we knew it.’” Dad’s hand tightened on the cloth chair back. “And when you and your mom left for the store that day … ” He closed his eyes. “It was the last thing she ever said to me.”

Dang. He’d never told me that. “Dad, that’s not going to be the last thing I say to you. I’m coming back. I promise.”

He pulled me into another hug as General Baker returned.

“Ready, Jess?”

Maybe. I wasn’t all that sure anymore.

Dad’s strong-soldier-face returned, but his eyes betrayed fears deeper and darker than I could imagine.

“When I get back, I want tacos, okay?”

He smiled.

Well, he almost smiled. I’d have to alleviate that problem by coming home, and never saying “I’ll be back before you know it” again.

“Tacos it is, but you’re cooking.” He ruffled my hair.

Geeze, Dad, I’m not six.
I rolled my eyes, but I warmed inside. I’d never openly admit it, but I loved when he did that.

“They’re waiting.” General Baker motioned to the door.

Callup gave me more directions as we walked down a stark, white hallway. General Baker displayed a badge to open three doors that slammed shut behind us. I did my best to concentrate on everything Callup said, while not getting all goofy over the fact that Steven Callup—yes,
the
Steven Callup was giving me advice on how to catch award-winning shots.
Crazy. Just crazy.