James Patterson: Dangerous Days of Daniel X

“You’re my grandmother?” I whispered in a voice I reserved for first sightings of the Grand Canyon and such.

“That’s right, Daniel, son of Graff,” she said, and smiled down on me. “I am your grandmama.”

And then I did what I’d been doing far too often lately.

I passed out.

WHEN I WOKE from my dreams of being chased through Kansas, Oklahoma, and parts of Texas by The Prayer, I almost went into shock for a second time. I’d been moved to an actual bed! With sheets that were-pinch me-clean! That even smelled nice.

I was lying there, soaking up the whole antiseptic, laundry-detergent-commercial vibe, when I sensed there was someone in the room with me.

I slowly leaned over the edge of the bed. And blinked. The cutest little brown-haired girl was sitting on the floor cross-legged. She was staring up at me.

“Hello,” I said.

“Ahhhhh!” she squealed. “It speaks!” She jumped up and ran out of the room as if she’d seen a ghost.

I sat up in the bed. I could move, apparently. Amazing.

Then I even managed to stand without falling. I was on a roll.

I heard some commotion as I stepped out of the room. Voices were coming from downstairs. And- music? Very lively and pretty. Like classical mixed up with rock and a little country and a bit of jazz.

I arrived at the top of some stairs and looked down. The lower level of the house, where my surgery had taken place, had been completely transformed. Not only was it cleaned up, but two dozen or so people were sitting, eating, talking, and laughing.

I stared at them, and at a table filled with delicious-smelling food.

Another song started to play. It was like a Mozart melody, only quicker and somehow warmer. Like maybe Bob Dylan had collaborated on it.

When I got to the bottom of the stairs, I saw that my grandmother, Blaleen, was at a kind of piano. Another ancient woman in a wheelchair was playing a small stringed instrument that looked and sounded just like a guqin, a type of ancient Chinese guitar. Seven or eight little kids running around a bunch of chairs scrambled for a seat as the glorious music suddenly stopped.

“Little ones, say hello to your great-cousin Daniel,” my grandmother said, standing as she spotted me. “Daniel X, to be precise. He doesn’t use a family name because he doesn’t have a family. Until now, that is.”

“There he is!” a pretty young woman cried as she ran up and embraced me. “By the stars, it’s true! I’m your cousin Lylah.”

For the next several minutes, people crowded around, shaking my hand, patting my back, and pinching my cheeks. Shocked eyes stared into mine and dazed smiles lit up faces. The old woman in the wheelchair rolled up to me. There were tears in her eyes as she pinched my cheek as well.

“It’s true,” she whispered happily to me. “Ya look just like your mom. Little of your dad. Lovely! Just lovely! You’re beautiful, Daniel. Tall, blond. Stunning!”

An amiable-looking, pudgy man was pinching my free cheek. “Daniel, Daniel. Pleasure to meetcha. I’m your uncle Kraffleprog. Your mom’s brother,” he said, pumping my hand. “I used to change your diaper. I called you Stinkyboy. ”

Kraffleprog? I thought as I shook his hand. Now there’s a name you don’t hear that much anymore. My parents had taken some serious pity on me in the name department, I realized.

“I can’t remember the last time there was a party, can you?” said a bony, tired-looking woman standing beside Uncle Kraffleprog.

“First time in a while we had something to celebrate on this shattered rock,” my rotund uncle said, winking and pinching me some more. “Stinkyboy is back.”

“COME, DANIEL. Take the place of honor at our table,” my grandmother said. “It’s a miracle you lived through my surgery.”

The meal, everything, was spectacular, really top of the line. Roast meats, incredibly intense vegetables, a kind of refreshing clear, sweet drink. Alparian apple juice, maybe. I could feel health and heat start to pulse in my veins.

“Grandma,” I said, smiling at Blaleen, “your place. It looks…”

“Reborn? Yes. Exactly how I feel,” she said, squeezing my arm. “Your homecoming defies chance. It has brought back the one thing we thought we would never have again. You know what this is, Daniel? Hope.”

Whoa! What was I supposed to say to that?

“Tell me everything,” I said, changing the subject. “Who I am. Who the Alien Hunters are. What my parents were doing on Earth. Where -”

“Whoa, whoa! I’ll give you the short version, Daniel. Listen now.

“Many hundreds of years ago, our space probes discovered Earth. What amazed us was how similar our planets were, in temperature, atmosphere, bodies of water. It was discovered that the human heart was also similar to that of Alparians; physically, and in other ways as well. It was suggested that our races might have descended from a single ancestor.

“Unfortunately, we soon learned the Outer Ones had already discovered Earth and were working to colonize and take it over. My son, Graff, met and fell in love with your mother, Atrelda, when they were at university. They both had powers, Daniel, telepathy and transforming ability. They could, well, create things at will. It’s rare, but it happens here.”

“Did you tell him about his rating?” my uncle interrupted.

“You were tested, Daniel. Your powers are double those of your gifted parents put together. Graff and Atrelda were sent to Earth to help humans in any way they could. When we learned of their deaths at the hands of The Prayer, we were convinced you had perished as well.”

“So tell me-what happened to Alpar Nok? When did Seth destroy it?”

“Not destroyed. Just changed things superficially. But enough of that for now. The past is the past. This is the present. This gathering is for happiness and renewal and hope. Everyone, shall we?” my grandmother said. “We have a surprise for you.”

The plates were cleared away and the lights turned low.

“This,” said my uncle, “is not to be believed, young Stinkyboy!”

ALL MY RELATIVES had started to hum. I was about to ask what was up when a flicker of light appeared on the wall.

Then a scene formed.

It was a mom and dad and a little boy in a powder blue rowboat. Hey, wait! That wasn’t just any little boy. That was me!

My relatives were projecting some kind of memory home movies on the wall for me! How crazy was that? And how cool.

For the next hour, I rested my chin in my palms and watched memory after memory in total awe! My mom and dad in what looked like navy officers’ uniforms, getting married. Taking me home from the hospital, playing with me in a swimming pool, playing with me at the beach. I smiled as I spotted myself petting Chordata’s trunk.

After a while, the scene on the wall changed to me as a small child playing with four friends.

Suddenly it felt like the top of my head blew off! I tapped my grandmother’s hand as I realized who this was. Joe, Willy, Dana, Emma, and me in a sandbox!

My buds! My dudes! No way! We were good friends even as little kids?

“Wait a second! That’s Joe, Willy, Emma, and Dana. My friends,” I said excitedly.

“Yes, they were your friends from preschool. My, how you used to get on,” my grandmother said. “You formed a friendship bond, called a drang, that is rarely seen among our people. Very powerful, Daniel. Very special.”

“But where are they now? I have to see them immediately.”

She touched my face.