Starstruck (38 page)

“Not . . . hard, exactly.” I tried to find the right words to describe it. “Strange, definitely. Kind of disorienting, that blast from the past, when I’d never remembered
anything
about my parents before. But a little bit of a relief, too. Like proof they really did exist, you know?”

Rigel stroked my arm thoughtfully. “Yeah, I guess I can see that. You’ve never had it easy, have you?”

The gentle sympathy in his voice brought a lump to my throat. No one had ever cared about me like this. At least, no one I’d been able to remember, until today. Before I could get all maudlin about it, I cleared my throat and asked, “What about you? Did you find out anything about this ‘plan’ Smith mentioned?”

“Maybe.” His voice was husky until he cleared his throat, too. “I got my dad talking about Martian politics—not hard to do, since it’s pretty much his favorite subject. I oh-so-innocently asked a few questions to nudge him in the direction I was interested in, and he told me about the factions back on Mars and how they’re split over the emigration/invasion issue.”

“Invasion?” I echoed, shivering from a chill I hadn’t felt before.

He noticed and pulled me a little closer against his side as he continued. “Yeah, well, it seems things aren’t all that great on Mars these days. The population is pretty close to its limit for the size and resources of the underground ecosystem there, which means strictly enforced birth control, lately, and more willingness to emigrate to Earth—since there’s no living on the surface, of course.”

I nodded, remembering a mention of emigration during that awkward dinner party at the Stuarts’ a few weeks ago. “So more and more Martians are coming to Earth? Isn’t that risky? As far as keeping it secret, I mean.”

“That’s just it. It is risky, so they have to be really careful about how, and when, and how many come at one time, stuff like that. But apparently there are some people who think that’s crap—that because they’re . . . we’re . . . technologically and genetically superior, they shouldn’t have to sneak in.”

“So they want to . . . invade?” The word brought to mind every scary sci-fi movie I’d ever seen. “But there aren’t enough of them to do that, are there?”

He shrugged. “That’s what most people seem to think, but I guess it depends on exactly what they want to do. I mean, there’s like a quarter of a million people there, but my dad says only a minority are in favor of actual invasion. He might have been playing it down, though—hard to say. I think he told me more than he meant to, then tried to backpedal a little.” He ducked his head to look into my face. “Hey, you okay?”

“Um, yeah. I still can’t wrap my mind around the idea of the Martian colony—on Mars—being at least fifty times the size of the whole town of Jewel. But even so, I don’t see how they could . . .
conquer
all of Earth. Or why they’d even want to.”

“I dunno. That’s about where my dad clammed up. Maybe they’ve been building warships in secret or something? But my dad swears that most people there—and pretty much all of the ones already here on Earth—are in favor of peaceful immigration instead. Doing what my parents did: coming in quietly, in small numbers, and just blending in.”

Even that seemed a little more sinister than it had before. I had to remind myself that these were
my
people he was talking about, not actual aliens. My grandfather had been their ruler. Which got me thinking about something else.

“Let me guess. It’s this Faxon guy who’s in favor of the invasion plan?”

“Yeah, except my dad says Faxon doesn’t come out and say so, he just keeps reminding people how much better they’d have it here. It’s his supporters who are doing most of the real invasion talk. It’s all politics.”

“Just like here.” I sighed. I really didn’t want to get involved in all of this—but did I have a choice? “So that plan Smith mentioned is about invading Earth? That’s even worse than I thought.”

Rigel shrugged again, and I tried not to be distracted by the way that felt with him sitting right up against me. “I can’t think what else it could be. Remember what you heard him say about the
Duchas
not knowing what hit them? It totally fits.”

I had to admit, it did. “He also made it sound like it would be soon, maybe before the end of the semester,” I reminded him.

He sucked in a breath. “That’s right. And when I asked my dad if there were any Martians here on Earth who might be trying to set things up from this side for an invasion, he got all jumpy and changed the subject. Said it was all speculation and nothing to worry about—but he said it the way parents do when they don’t want you asking questions, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.” Like the way my aunt had always acted whenever I’d brought up the subject of my birth parents or adoption—until today. Except she used to get angry and hurtful if I didn’t let it drop, and I couldn’t imagine either of Rigel’s parents being like that. “But you didn’t tell him anything else about Smith, right?”

“Not yet. I considered it, but then my grandfather called and I eavesdropped while they talked, and—”

“And what?” I asked, worried by the hesitation in his voice.

“It sounded like they’re talking again about having you disappear. I heard my dad mention Montana. That compound is apparently in the middle of nowhere, up near the Canadian border. There are like five hundred
Echtrans
there, and he thinks they could keep you safe there indefinitely.”

“Indefinitely?” I didn’t like the sound of that at all.

“At least until they decide Faxon’s people are no longer a threat, one way or the other.”

“You mean until they either invade or they’re defeated somehow.”

He nodded.

“So worst case, Faxon invades Earth. Best case, they’d want me to stay hidden up there for years!” I said, appalled.

Sure, I’d wanted to get away from Jewel for almost as long as I could remember, but I’d been thinking college, then maybe a career in astronomy. Not spending the best years of my life holed up in some fortress in Nowheresville, Montana.

Without Rigel.

I shook my head. “Nope, not going to Montana.”

“Are you sure? You
would
be safe there.” But I thought I detected a note of relief in his voice.

“Not without you, I wouldn’t be. You know as well as I do what that would do to both of us. And even if it didn’t,” I continued quickly when he started to interrupt me, “I’d hate it there. I’ve always thought Jewel was a nothing town, but I’m guessing it would seem like a mega-city compared to this . . . compound.”

“Still, safe is good. I want you to be safe even more than I . . . more than anything.”

I rested my hand on his cheek, loving the feel of his skin against my palm. “I want me to be safe too, but not at that price—and I don’t just mean what I’d have to give up, or even us having to be apart. Going into hiding would mean leaving the bad guys—Faxon’s crowd—free to go ahead with their invasion.”

“Maybe not,” he argued, though I really didn’t think his heart was in it. “Maybe my grandfather and his people can stop them, once they know what’s going on.”

“Maybe,” I conceded. “Assuming we can even get them to believe us. And the minute we do get them to take the threat seriously, they’re also going to insist I disappear. Which I’m not doing.”

“We—you—should at least sleep on it,” he said, covering my hand on his cheek with his free hand—the one that wasn’t still holding me against his side. “There’s no rush.”

I turned my hand to lace my fingers through his. “Isn’t there? They could be getting ready to launch warships or something right now, for all we know! The way I see it, we have three basic choices. We can continue as we are now, pretending not to know each other and letting Smith and his cohorts move ahead with the invasion, risking everyone on Earth. Or we can tell Shim everything and risk them forcing me into hiding—which might have the same effect. Or . . . we can go public.”

His grip tightened convulsively on my hand. “Public? I don’t think most Earth people are ready for that. I know my parents don’t think they are. There could be a panic. It could end up even worse than—”

“Not
that
public,” I broke in. “I just meant
us
—you and me. If Mr. Smith sees us together, sees that we’re, um, an item, it’ll make him reopen his investigation and delay their plans. And once
he
figures out who I am, we might as well get the word out to all the other Martians about me, maybe with that MARSTAR thing Nara and Shim mentioned, back when they did that test on me. Then there wouldn’t be any reason I’d
have
to hide, would there?”

He was already shaking his head. “I’m not going to help you make yourself a target, M. Are you crazy? Do you
want
them to come after you?”

“Better me than the whole planet. But no, I’m not crazy. Think about it.” I twisted sideways so I could clasp his hand in both of mine. “They’re not going to want to go public—really public—any more than our side does. At least, not till they’re really, truly ready to invade. So it’s not like they’ll come after me with guns—or phasers, or whatever—blazing. But they’ll probably do
something
, and that something would
prove
to Shim and his colleagues that the threat is real, in time for them to stop an invasion.”

Rigel wasn’t convinced. “What if that ‘something’ they do is fatal to you? They might slip you poison, or find a way to kill you that looks like an accident, or . . . or . . . murder you in your sleep or something. It’s not like they have to be obvious for you to end up dead.”

“So I’ll be careful,” I said, refusing to let him see how much his words scared me. I hadn’t really thought things through that far. “And you’ll just have to be my bodyguard,” I added, forcing a grin.

One corner of his mouth quirked up, though his eyes were still serious. “That part I’m okay with. But I still think it would be safer to stay completely off Smith’s radar. You said he was only staying till the end of the semester, right?”

“Unless they invade first! Don’t we have a . . . a duty to prevent that if we can?”

He hesitated, his struggle obvious. “Maybe, if we thought we really could,” he finally said. “But we’re . . . well, we’re just kids, when it comes right down to it. I won’t even be sixteen for another month, and you’re a couple months younger than I am. Shim’s people—”

“Don’t believe in the threat yet,” I reminded him. “And if we do manage to convince them, I get whisked off to some compound where they won’t let us be together, maybe for years. Maybe ever. It’s not worth that risk, Rigel.”

His eyes bored into mine. “I’d rather risk separation than your life.”

I met his gaze steadily. “I wouldn’t. And I won’t.”

We sat like that for a dozen heartbeats, staring into each other’s eyes, wordlessly arguing our views. I wasn’t backing down, though, and finally he sighed and nodded.

“Okay, you win. We’ll try it your way, but I’m going to stick to you like glue whenever I possibly can, and you have to promise to be super, super careful when I can’t.”

“Deal.” Tension I hadn’t even realized I was feeling started to drain out of me. “And as soon as Smith makes his move, we’ll bring your folks and Shim into it and let them deal with the dangerous stuff.”

“No question about that.”

“So, starting Monday, we can stop avoiding each other at school?” I just wanted to be sure we were clear.

Rigel took his arm from around me, but only so he could hold both of my hands with both of his. “I’ll go you one better than that. M, will you be my date for Homecoming?”

I was ridiculously nervous Monday morning as I headed toward my first class. Partly because of whatever Mr. Smith might do once he figured out who I was, but mainly because I wasn’t sure exactly how Rigel was going to act toward me now that we’d agreed our fake breakup was over.

Of course I’d said yes about Homecoming. Duh. But Rigel had walked me home—well, most of the way home—right after that. And we hadn’t said more than “hi” to each other in church yesterday, since for obvious reasons Rigel couldn’t tell his parents what we were doing. Today would be the first test of our new plan—assuming Rigel hadn’t had second thoughts since I talked him into it Saturday night.

It seemed all too likely he might have, considering I’d had second—and third, and fourth—thoughts since then myself. Some of those times I was ready to admit it really was a dangerous and stupid plan. Even so, every time I thought carefully through my options, this one made the most sense, for me and for everyone else. Which meant even if Rigel decided it was safer to keep ignoring me, I wouldn’t let him.

With that resolve firmly in mind, I walked into Geometry class, my heart hammering like crazy . . . until Rigel looked over at me, smiled his wonderful smile and came toward me. Suddenly I was positive everything was going to be fine. Somehow.

“Hey.” His voice was warm, stroking over my senses until my toes curled from just one word.

“Hey,” I responded, reminding myself to ask him—privately—whether my voice affected him the way his affected me. “How was—?”

“Rigel!” Trina’s voice, even shriller and more irritating than usual, cut across my question before I could finish. “
Why
on Earth are you talking to her? You said you were over that . . . that aberration.”

He turned slowly to face her, but not before I saw him grimace—an expression I kind of wished she’d seen, too, since it would have told her clearly what he really thought of her.