Melinda Metz - The Stowaway

Maria pulled in a gasping breath. "Babysitting. Yeah, that's a very big problem," she rushed on. "Why don't we discuss that? Hey, I know, maybe we could form a club. A babysitters' club. That would be something fun for us all to do together."

"Let me help you," Alex said. He jumped up and took the teapot out of Maria's trembling hands.

Michael saw him whisper something in her ear, something that helped her get a grip. He looked away, forcing his attention back to Liz. "So when Max passed out, DuPris just took off?"

Liz nodded. "He used Adam and Isabel to help him out of the cave."

"One of them's probably already healed him," Alex said.

"Yeah," Max agreed.

Michael whipped his head toward the kitchen door and saw his friend slumped against the door frame. "You shouldn't have gotten up," he said. Max looked horrible. His skin had a grayish tint, and there was a strange withered spot on his throat. "Had to," Max answered. He crossed the kitchen and dropped down into the chair next to Michael's.

"We were just about to come up with a plan to deal with DuPris," Alex told him. He started setting down mugs of tea on the table. "Liz… got us up to speed."

Michael was glad that Max hadn't had to relive what had happened. He knew Max had to be torturing himself for what he'd done. That's how he'd think of it-what he'd done.

Michael wasn't looking forward to the day when he went through his akino and made his own connection to the collective consciousness. They'd used Max like a puppet today. It didn't seem all that different from the way DuPris was using Isabel and Adam.

"I know what I need to do to deal with DuPris," Max said. "I got instructions, actually more like a blast of knowledge, from the consciousness before the connection broke." He looped his fingers around the handle of the mug and turned the mug in a slow circle. "Do you know what a wormhole is?" he finally asked.

"There's a theory that says that the gravity of black holes pulls on more than just the objects around it, that it actually pulls on space and time, and that it can create a tear in the time-space continuum. A wormhole is the passageway made by the tear," Liz answered.

"You forget who you're talking to here," Alex told her.

"It's a shortcut through space," Liz said.

"And if I channel the energy of the consciousness, I can create one," Max explained. "After I do, I'm supposed to use it to send DuPris back to our home planet."

"There's only one problem," Michael said. "We have no idea where DuPris is. He could be anywhere. He, Isabel, and Adam could have left town. Or they could all have different faces and be hanging out at the mall."

"Did Isabel… was she okay when you saw her?" Alex asked Liz.

"Yeah. I don't think DuPris will hurt her or Adam," she told him. "It doesn't make sense-they're like his slaves. He wants them around."

"Anyone have any ideas about how to track them?" Alex asked. "Max, is that anything the collective consciousness could help with? Do they know where DuPris is?"

Max shook his head. "Today in the cave it was the first time anyone on our home planet had seen him in more than fifty years. They had no idea where he was. He's not connected to them. I don't think they have any way of sensing his movements."

"I'm almost surprised they want you to send him back," Liz said softly. She lowered her head, her hair falling forward and hiding her face. "I'm surprised they don't just want you to kill him. It seems like what they wanted in the cave."

Michael didn't think Max would have been able to live with himself if the consciousness had succeeded. If his hands had been used to kill someone, even someone as evil as DuPris, it would haunt Max every day for the rest of his life.

"Seeing him practically made them insane," Max explained. "But now…" He gave a hoarse laugh. "I don't know-I guess they cooled down. They want to put him through some kind of judgment."

"I have an idea," Maria said suddenly. She'd never rejoined the group. She stood over by the sink, twisting a dish towel in her hands. "Liz, you said that Adam came into your dream and tried to tell you who was controlling him, before he started convulsing. Anyway, it seems like DuPris figured out he had to stop Adam from, uh, making outgoing calls. But maybe he forgot that there could be incoming calls, too."

"So I should go into Isabel's dream and ask her where DuPris took her and Adam when they left the cave," Michael said, feeling a tinge of hope. "Great idea."

"Thanks," Maria mumbled, without looking at him.

"I'll try it right now. Isabel could be taking a beauty nap at any point." Michael closed his eyes and tried to let his mind go blank. Thoughts kept bombarding him. What was going to happen to Isabel and Adam if he couldn't do this? How did Max get that withered spot on his neck? Was it dangerous?

As soon as he shoved one thought away, another one replaced it. Could the wormhole take Michael back to their home planet, too? Did he want to go? Were he and Maria ever going to be able to just hang again? And what was DuPris making Isabel and Adam do right now? And-

Michael felt a light, tentative touch on his shoulder. He opened his eyes and saw Maria standing next to him. "You're never going to be able to focus in here. Come on."

She turned and headed out of the kitchen. He stood up and followed her as she led the way across the living room and down the hall to her bedroom. He reached for the light switch, but Maria grabbed his hand.

"Leave it off. It will make it easier for you to relax," she said, then she seemed to realize she was still holding his hand and dropped it fast. "Now take off your shoes and lie down."

Michael kicked off his sneakers and stretched out on the bed. He felt a little of the tension ease out of him. Maria's room was one of his favorite places.

"Okay, I know you think aromatherapy is a big joke, but smell this, anyway." Maria thrust a little vial at him, and he obediently took a sniff. He would have done pretty much anything she told him to right then. She seemed a lot less freaked now that she was all caught up in her healing arts stuff-that's what she called it, healing arts-and if doing this was helping her feel less afraid, that was all he needed to know.

"Really breathe it in," Maria instructed.

The lilac scent made the inside of his nose burn, but he didn't tell her that. He just pulled in a lungful of the stuff.

"Now close your eyes," she said, her voice soft and almost musical.

It's got to work this time, Michael thought as he shut them. If it didn't, Isabel-

He felt Maria's hand smoothing out the wrinkles the thought had made in his forehead. "Focus on the lavender."

He found himself focusing more on the scent of her. Had he totally screwed things up with her? Could they ever just be couch potatoes on this bed again, watching a triple feature of old horror movies? And what was that withered spot on Max's neck?

Maria started rubbing her fingers in little circles on Michael's temples. "You can't stop thinking, can you? Okay, here's what I'll do. I'll talk to you. Listen to me instead of your thoughts," she said. "Mozart used to have his wife read to him when he was composing because it got rid of the chatter in his head and let him concentrate. If it worked for Mozart, it can work for you."

The warmth of Maria's fingers felt as if it were seeping deep into Michael's brain. He settled deeper into her bed.

"Lavender used to be my favorite color in the box of sixty-four crayons-you know, the one with the sharpener built into the side," Maria said, her voice calm and sweet. "It seemed like it could draw anything. It was the right color for everything. I drew lavender flowers and my father's lavender eyes, my mother's lavender smile. They were the same to me, mother, father, flowers. All good. All lavender. And I was lavender, too."