CHAPTER 18: Orbital degradation
The silence following Shim's statement seemed to last forever. Rigel and even his parents looked as stunned as I felt. To my surprise, I was the first to find my voice.
"But I thought . . . you said Martians had this ingrained instinct against killing?" I glanced at Mr. Stuart.
"Yes," he said heavily. "I did say that. But I also said that Faxon has somehow managed to overcome it, for himself and his followers."
"Still, it's possible I overstated the danger somewhat in order to be certain you take this seriously," Shim told me. "While we can't rule out Faxon's adherents attempting to harm you physically, I believe it far more likely they would try to kidnap you, to persuade you to their cause. In any event, they are unlikely to do anything that would draw attention to themselves."
His voice was soothing now, and I relaxed a tiny bit.
But then Mr. Stuart said, "We can't know what they'd risk. Some of his followers on Mars were fanatical. If—"
"Yes, yes, Van, I know." Shim waved him to silence with a look that made me think he didn't want more said in front of me—probably so I wouldn't get even more scared. "But we have little reason to believe he has more than a handful of followers on Earth. Still, we can't afford to be careless. Rigel, Marsha," he continued, "have either of you noticed anyone following you? Anyone watching you?"
I shook my head at the same time Rigel said, "No."
"No suspicious strangers hanging around the school or trying to talk to either of you?"
Again, we both shook our heads.
"Then it's likely I got here first. I'd have called, but I couldn't be sure the line here was secure. At the close of our last visit, we discovered a security breach within our own circle."
"Flynn?" The guess was out of my mouth before I could stop it.
Shim's bushy white brows shot upward. "We clearly underestimated you, my dear. May I ask what Flynn did during your brief encounter to make you mistrust him?"
I felt myself flushing with embarrassment, even though it sounded like I was right. "It was . . . well, I'm not sure. He just creeped me out."
"Then I suggest you trust your instincts in the future," Shim said. "Fortunately, we learned of his divided loyalties before he betrayed your whereabouts. But now, if you'll excuse me, I need to make a call on a line that is secure."
He pulled what looked like a tiny, futuristic cell phone from his pocket and left the room. Rigel immediately turned to his parents.
"How long have you known about this?" he demanded.
"About ten minutes longer than you have," his father said. "Of course, we've always known there could be some risk if Faxon's people discovered M's whereabouts—or existence. But we had no idea they were close to doing so."
Rigel stared at me for several long seconds, a frown furrowing his brow. "We can't let them find her. What do you think we should do?"
Before either of his parents could answer, Shim came back into the kitchen, looking relieved. "I was right," he said. "The man we've been watching— Boyne Morven—has not left Los Angeles. That gives us some breathing space."
"What do you think we should do?" Rigel asked again, his voice urgent. "Should I take M into hiding somewhere?"
Shim gave him a hard look. "You should not take her anywhere, my boy. You are the one most likely to be watched, which means the best thing you can do is to keep your distance from her."
Rigel looked rebellious. "No. I have to protect her. No one else—"
"Do you really believe you are better equipped, at fifteen, to safeguard our Sovereign than the best security personnel we have here on Earth?" Shim asked, his voice laced with amusement.
"If she's going into hiding, I'm going with her," Rigel insisted.
"Absolutely not." Shim was firm. "That could increase her danger as well as sparking a division within our own ranks we can ill afford, especially now. I can have my people here by tonight. We'll create a perimeter until we can transport her to—"
"No!" I exclaimed, panicking at the speed things were moving. "I can't just . . . disappear. Won't that be more suspicious than anything else I could do? If it tips them off to who I am, wouldn't they go after my aunt and uncle—or the Stuarts—to try to find out where I've gone? You said yourself you don't know what they're capable of."
"That's true," Shim agreed. "Which is exactly why you must be somewhere safe."
I imagined spending the next few weeks—or months —even years?— holed up in some bunker, without Rigel, not knowing what was going on in Jewel. Not knowing what might be happening to people I cared about— because of me.
"No," I said again. "I'm not putting anyone else at risk for my sake. And hey, what kind of Sovereign would I be, if I agreed to something like that?"
Nobody laughed.
"A live one," Mr. Stuart said grimly. "Please be sensible, M."
"I am being sensible," I said stubbornly. "If this Boyne dude hasn't left for Indiana, that means he hasn't found me yet, right? Maybe the worst thing I could do is disappear. My aunt and uncle would mobilize the whole town to look for me." At least, I wanted to believe they would.
"She has a point," Dr. Stuart said. "Are we really sure that Faxon's people know she's in Jewel? They could be following multiple leads, and her disappearance could be the very thing to draw their attention here."
I immediately seized on her support. "Exactly! They're probably still just looking."
But Shim was shaking his head. "Some of my colleagues— Allister Adair in particular —already feel strongly that you should be moved to the compound in Montana. Once they learn of this development—"
"Then don't tell them," I pleaded. "You're a computer whiz, aren't you, Mr. Stuart? Isn't there some way to make sure they can't pinpoint my uncle's computer?"
With obvious reluctance, he nodded. "We'd need to erect a ping-proof firewall, and do it immediately. I'll need access to the computer to do it, though."
"I'll get you access," I promised. "Just tell me what to do."
It took a lot more arguing on my part, but finally Shim agreed to let us take only that step—for now. He said he'd let us know if he learned anything else about my enemies, but something in the way he said it made me wonder if he really would, especially if it might make me more determined to stay in Jewel. I got the impression he was already regretting this compromise.
In turn, Rigel and I both promised to keep a sharp lookout for anyone acting suspiciously—especially anyone who "felt" Martian. I gave Mr. Stuart the passwords to get into Uncle Louie's computer and agreed to sneak downstairs and log on once my aunt and uncle were asleep so he could set up the necessary firewall remotely.
"And now," Shim said, "I think Princess Emileia had better go home—as inconspicuously as possible."
"Um, I'm on my bike," I pointed out. "It's only about three miles, though. I can be home in half an hour."
He shook his head. "Too risky. We don't know for certain that this house isn't being watched. Van, I suggest you load her bicycle into your car, then drive her to a secluded area near her home so that she can ride the rest of the way from there."
I couldn’t help thinking if the house was being watched it was probably too late for such tactics. But I didn't want to risk giving Shim another reason I should go into hiding, so I just nodded.
"I'll come, too," Rigel said, but his grandfather immediately vetoed that.
"No, Rigel. As I already said, you're the one most likely to be followed. The more distance between you, the safer she'll be."
"But—"
"I'll brook no argument here, boy. And it sounds as though we need to discuss something else, as well."
I had a pretty good idea what that "something" would be, and I wondered whether Rigel would tell him the truth about our bonding. Mr. Stuart was already heading toward the garage door.
"Go ahead and get into the SUV, Marsha," he said. "Back seat, I think, so you can hunker down once we're in the open. I'll put your bike into the b
ack."
I looked back at Rigel, feeling an irrational stab of panic—like I wasn't going to see him again, or something. But that was silly. I was the one in danger, not him. And it didn't sound like I was in much danger, at least not yet.
He caught my look and gave me a crooked smile. I'd have found it reassuring if it weren't for the hint of despair in his perfect hazel eyes. Following his dad into the garage, I hoped he was only worried about what he was going to say to his grandfather.
It was easier than I expected to get our computer protected. I made it home early enough—biking the last quarter mile from behind the post office—that my aunt hadn't had time to get suspicious about where I'd been. That meant no awkward questions over dinner, and no demand for explanations when I went to bed earlier than usual for a Saturday.
I sat in my room and read, wishing more than ever that I had a cell phone or at least a cordless I could take to my room. I was dying to talk to Rigel, to find out what everyone had said after I left and whether they were going to stick to the plan to do nothing drastic just yet. That last expression I'd seen in his eyes still haunted me.
After I heard my aunt and uncle go to bed, I waited another hour, then crept downstairs to power up the computer, carefully following the instructions Mr. Stuart had given me. I went into the kitchen for a glass of milk while he did whatever he needed to do, which gave me an excuse for being downstairs just in case Aunt Theresa woke up and investigated.
She didn't, and in half an hour I got a message from Mr. Stuart that the deed was done. Breathing a sigh of relief—and still wishing I had a way to communicate with Rigel—I erased all signs of my log in, shut down the computer, and quietly went upstairs to bed.
At church the next morning, I got my first inkling of how different things were going to be. As always, we arrived early, and I made a point of saving seats for the Stuarts—four spots, in case Shim came with them. But when the Stuarts arrived fifteen minutes later, not only was Shim not with them, neither was Rigel. And though they smiled and nodded at Uncle Louie and me, they didn't sit with us.
Maybe he was still in the car and would come in late, I told myself. But ten minutes later the service started without Rigel appearing. And when it ended, the Stuarts were among the first ones out of the church, not even taking the time to say hello.
Stuck near the front of the sanctuary while Aunt Theresa chit-chatted with her choir friends, I watched them go, my heart feeling like it was right down in my stupid Sunday shoes.
It was a long, long afternoon. I'd done all my homework the night before while waiting to deal with the computer and I was sick of reading, for the first time I could remember. Even though it had only been twenty-four hours, it felt like forever since I'd heard Rigel's voice or felt the touch of his hand.
Three or four times I seriously considered calling him, but kept remembering what Shim had said about phone lines not being secure. Besides, Aunt Theresa was in the kitchen making cookies for some bake sale or other, so it's not like I could have talked privately. Still, as the afternoon wore on, I felt increasingly twitchy.
Finally, an hour or so before dinner, I announced that I was going for a walk. If the bad guys were watching Rigel, I reasoned, I should be safe enough on my own. "Is there anything I can get for you in town?" I asked my aunt. "I just need to get out and move a little—I've been a slug all day."
"Nothing's open but the drugstore," she said. "But I do need some cotton balls." She dried her hands and pulled a couple of dollars out of her purse and gave them to me. "Are you feeling all right, Marsha?" she asked then, surprising me.
I shrugged. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little restless."
"All right, then. I just hope it's nothing to do with that football player. I noticed you watching for him all morning at church. I'd like to think you’re too sensible to be thrown into a mope by anything a boy does."
For a second there, I'd thought she was actually concerned, but apparently it was just another chance to lecture. "I'll be back soon," was my only response.
I walked quickly, trying to outrun my nerves or whatever was unsettling me so much. As I walked, I told myself I was being silly, that everything was going to be fine. It wasn't like Rigel had actually promised to call or see me today. With his grandfather there, he probably didn't have much choice in the matter. I could certainly survive until school tomorrow, when we could be together again.
It seemed like a long time to wait.
When I got to Diamond Street five minutes later, I went to the drugstore first for Aunt Theresa's cotton balls, then browsed the makeup aisle a little, even though I hadn't remembered to bring any of my own money. Mainly to distract myself, I made a few mental notes about which lip glosses and nail polish I might come back to get later.
Still feeling antsy, I finally paid for the cotton balls and headed down the length of Diamond, my pace quickening again as I walked. Missing Rigel even more, I felt drawn to the little arboretum at the south end of town, where he and I had spent an hour or two last weekend eating ice cream, talking . . . and stealing a few discreet kisses.
I entered the tiny park with its towering ash trees and walls covered with late roses and felt my jangling nerves settle slightly. The day was overcast and it was getting late, so I was the only one there. I was glad. Just being here made me feel closer to Rigel, somehow. Smiling at the memory of our last visit here, I headed toward "our" alcove with the green metal bench.
Turning the corner, I froze when I saw someone was already there. But immediately, even before he looked up, I realized it was Rigel. He looked as surprised and delighted as I felt, and we practically flew into each other's arms. When we kissed, I felt like I was finally getting air again after holding my breath all day. From the way he tightened his hold on me, tangling his fingers in the hair at the nape of my neck, I suspected he felt the same.
"How did you know?" I asked when we finally broke apart. "Were you watching for me or something?"
Rigel shook his head, his eyes sparkling. "Honestly, I had no idea you were going to be here. I just . . . felt like I had to come here. So I did, as soon as I could come up with a good excuse to leave the house."
"That's so weird," I said. "It was the same for me. I just had to get out of the house, and then once I was downtown, I sort of felt a pull to come here, to this spot. I'm so glad I followed my instincts."
"Me too." He grinned that devastating crooked grin. But then he suddenly sobered and his eyes lost some of their sparkle. "It was so good to see you I forgot for a minute, but now that we're both here . . . we need to talk."
Something in his voice made me tremble inside. "Is that guy your grandfather talked about on his way to Jewel after all?" I asked.
"I don't think so. Not yet. But they think it's only a matter of time."
He took my hand and drew me down onto the bench next to him, where we were screened from anyone who might wander into the arboretum. Just like last weekend, only now he released my hand and sat a few inches away, instead of with his arm around me.
"What, then?" I prodded when he didn't immediately say anything else. "What's wrong?"
"M—" He did take my hands then, but when he looked into my eyes, his held a sadness that scared me. "—I think we should break up."
I felt like he'd punched me in the stomach. I literally had to gasp for breath before I could say, "But . . . but . . . why?"
"Because it's the best way to keep you safe. You heard what my grandfather said yesterday. These people who are after you, who might want to hurt you, they already know about my family and me. If . . . when . . . they get here, they're going to watch me. Probably follow me. Maybe even use some high-tech Martian gizmo to track me, I don't know. I can't risk leading them to you."
"But everyone at school already knows we're together. Isn't it a little late to pretend we're not? Even if we stay away from each other, act like we hardly know each other, the whole school knows otherwise. You don't think they'd find that out?"
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He shrugged and his eyes slid away from mine. "Maybe not, if . . . if it looks like I'm with someone else instead. Then you'd be—"
"Yesterday's news," I finished for him, and though he frowned, I could tell that was pretty much what he'd meant. Unfortunately, he was probably right, since gossip had a half-life of less than a day if anything juicier came along. But that didn't mean I was going to agree to this.
"I don't think I can do it. Pretend I don't . . . care about you?" I'd almost used a stronger term, but we hadn't progressed to the L word yet. "Besides," I added as I thought of an actual argument, "wouldn't you be putting anyone else in danger if you spent too much time with her?"
Now he managed a half-hearted smile but it didn't reach his eyes. "Maybe a little, though I don't think they're going to come in with guns blazing or anything like that. Anyway, that's why I was thinking it should be Trina."
That almost made me laugh. Almost. But my heart was hurting too much for that. The idea of not being able to talk to him, to touch him again, for who knew how long, was horrifying. Not to mention all the stares and snickers at school when word got around that Rigel had dumped me. No one else would know it was because he wanted to keep me safe. Because he cared.
I shook my head. "I don't think that would be fair. Not even to Trina." I didn't actually care one atom about Trina, but it was all I had.
"I don't care about Trina," he said, echoing my thoughts perfectly as he so often did. "I'll try to make sure she's not a target, but all that really matters is keeping you safe. I won't risk losing you, M."
This time I did manage a shaky laugh. "But isn't that exactly what you're planning to do? To lose me? I'd rather risk the bad guys, thanks."
"But I'm not willing to risk it. To risk you." There was no compromise in his tone. "Please don't make this harder than it already is."
Even stronger than yesterday, panic started to set in. "Rigel, please. We don't have to do this. We don't even know for sure—"
"I'm sorry, M. I think we do. You can make up whatever story you want. Tell everybody I cheated on you, you dumped me, I have bad breath, whatever. But stay away from me."
Again with the gut punch. "You . . . you really want me to stay away from you?" I whispered.
For a second, an expression like pain crossed his face, then it was gone. "Yes," he said, and there was no wavering in his voice. "I do. I have to go. Wait a few minutes before you leave here, so no one sees us together."
"But—"
"Goodbye, M. I . . . Be safe." Then, so quickly that I couldn't have caught up with him if I'd wanted to, he was up and gone without a backward glance.
I sat there, stunned. He really meant it. I had no doubt that tomorrow at school he would play his part perfectly, acting like we'd had a bad breakup.
Well, it felt pretty bad to me. I wondered what he'd almost said, right before he left. Not that it mattered. Not that anything mattered. Rigel had just removed himself from my life and I wasn't at all sure I was going to survive that.