Roswell High - The Seeker Part 1

Melinda Metz.

The Seeker.

-Roswell High.

-=(1)=-.

"Hmm . . . I could wear this with those thigh-high tights I never wear," Maria DeLuca said softly to herself. She held the short, lime green dress up in front of her.

But then, hadn't she stopped wearing them because n.o.body wore thigh-high tights anymore? She tried to remember if she'd seen anyone at school in them lately.

Maria shook her head and glanced at the clock. "I am so late," she muttered. She was supposed to meet her five best friends at Flying Pepperoni soon. At the rate she was going, she'd never be ready in time.

"Maybe I should wear something blue," she murmured. It would make her eyes look even bluer. But Alex Manes, her best boy buddy, had told her that guys were lying when they said they loved a girl's eyes. She snorted. Alex would probably tell her she should show up in a teddy and high heels.

Maybe that's what it would take to get Michael Guerin's attention. Because admit it, she thought. That's why you've been staring at yourself in the mirror all morning. You're trying to figure out what will make Michael notice.

Maria's cat, Sa.s.safras, nudged open the bedroom door and leaped onto her bed. "Hey, Sa.s.s, you probably know exactly how I can make Michael realize I'm a g-i-r-l, right? Cats know everything-they just won't tell."

Maria picked up her gold chain-the one holding the ring she'd found at the mall last night-and looped it over her finger. She swung the ring back and forth in front of Sa.s.safras's smushed-in Persian face. Sa.s.safras pretended not to be interested for a minute. Then she shot out one paw. Maria caught a glimpse of something wet and red smeared across the pads.

"You're bleeding!" she cried. Sa.s.safras must have been stalking through the rosebushes again, hunting birds. She was always getting herself scratched up that way.

Maria fastened the gold chain around her neck to get it out of the way. Then she snapped a leaf off the aloe vera plant she kept on her windowsill and squeezed the juice out of the leaf. She hurried over to the bed and gently picked up her cat's paw.

"This will make you heal faster," she told Sa.s.safras.

The instant Maria's fingers made contact, it happened. The image of a robin flashed across her brain, making her want to chase it. The taste of milk flooded her mouth, delicious droplets running down her throat. She felt the sensation of warm sun on her back. And a hand scratching her under the chin.

Maria jumped back in surprise, releasing the cat's paw.

Sa.s.safras leaped up onto the windowsill and sat there, tail twitching with annoyance.

Okay, that was totally weird, Maria thought. For a second there I felt as if I was Sa.s.safras. As if we had some kind of cat-to-human telepathy going.

Maria sat down shakily. The feeling she'd gotten when she touched Sa.s.sy-it was familiar. It felt like . . . like the connection she'd had with her friends. The connection the aliens-Max and Isabel Evans, and, of course, Michael-knew how to form. One night, right after she'd found out the truth about them, Max had brought Maria, Alex, and Liz Ortecho together with the three aliens. He wanted them all to trust one another, so he'd formed some kind of group connection.

It was as if the six of them linked minds. No, not minds. It wasn't that they knew each other's thoughts, exactly. It was that they knew each other's essences. We linked spirits, she realized.

And that's what had just happened between her and Sa.s.safras. Which meant her cat's soul was made up of stuff like the taste of milk and the feel of sun on her back.

Maria smiled. Liz would laugh so hard if Maria tried to convince her that she had made a connection with Sa.s.sy Her best friend would say it was just like the time Maria was convinced that she'd raised her IQ by taking ginkgo extract. Liz had finally done a chart for her, showing amount of ginkgo ingested versus Maria's test scores. The scores went up and down, while the ginkgo levels went up and up, proving that Maria had gotten a little carried away about the whole IQ thing.

It would be pretty cool if I really could connect with Sa.s.safras, Maria thought. But the Liz Ortecho theory-that I have an extremely active imagination-is a lot more likely.

"Let's try this again, kitty cat." Maria headed toward Sa.s.safras with the aloe vera leaf. "I just need to get a few drops on, and you'll be all set." She picked up Sa.s.safras's paw and turned it gently.

Wait. Had she grabbed the wrong paw? There wasn't any blood on the pads of the paw she was holding. Maria looked at the other paw-no blood. She checked both paws again. No sc.r.a.pe or anything.

I know I saw blood on her, Maria thought. That definitely wasn't my imagination.

Maybe I healed her! The idea exploded in her brain like a skyrocket. That would be so totally and completely cool. Maria had been fascinated with healing practically her whole life. She knew her friends had trouble taking her aromatherapy and homemade vitamin capsules seriously, but Maria was absolutely convinced that her treatments worked.

One of the powers that Max, Michael, and Isabel had was the power to heal. She'd seen Max heal Liz when Liz got shot, and he had started by making a connection with her. So maybe Maria had made a connection with Sa.s.sy and then healed her.

Except, h.e.l.lo, you're not an alien, Maria scolded herself.

She needed to step back and think like Logical Liz for a minute. Okay, maybe Sa.s.safras didn't have a scratch at all. Maybe she just had something red smeared on her paw, something that was now on Maria's bedspread or windowsill. There, that was a nice, logical thought.

Maria leaned over and braced her arms on her dresser. "You have now reentered the reality zone," she told her reflection. At least she didn't look like an escapee from the loony bin. She looked perfectly normal.

Except . . . except there was something glowing through the thin material of her camisole. Right over her heart. Maria pulled the camisole down, fingers shaking.

It's the ring, she realized. She grabbed the chain and pulled the ring free. The stone set in the center was pulsing with purple and green light.

As she watched, the light faded. Maria sank down on the floor. She didn't think her legs would be able to carry her even one step. She held the ring up in front of her face and studied the stone. It looked sort of like an opal, with little s.h.i.+mmers of green and purple deep inside it.

Had she really seen it glowing? Or had that just been a trick of the light when she looked in the mirror? Or more of Maria's famous imagination?

But the glowing stone was the third weird thing in a row. First there had been the cat connection, then the disappearing blood. Even my imagination isn't that good, Maria thought.

Well, Liz would probably argue with that. She would be able to come up with a solid scientific explanation for everything that had happened.

Maybe getting all excited about seeing Michael gave me some kind of estrogen rush or something, Maria thought. I'll definitely have to ask Liz if rampaging hormones can cause hallucinations. Because that's all it was. A hallucination.

Right?

"So do you think Ray Iburg could be my dad or what?" Michael Guerin demanded. He swung himself into the pa.s.senger seat of Max Evans's Jeep.

Can you say pathetic? Michael asked himself. Don't bother saying hi. Or how's Isabel. Just start babbling about how you're so excited because last night you realized you might actually have a daddy.

At least Max wouldn't laugh at him. Max might think Michael was pathetic, but he wouldn't let it show. Actually, Max probably wouldn't even think it. Max was cool that way-one of the reasons the guy had been Michael's best friend practically forever.

That, and the alien thing. When you were one of only three aliens on earth-or at least when you thought you were one of only three aliens, like they had when they were kids-you pretty much had to be best friends with the other two. That would be Max and Max's sister, Isabel.

Max pulled off his sungla.s.ses. His bright blue eyes gleamed with intensity. "I've been asking myself the same thing," he admitted. "I guess it's a normal thought-Ray is the first adult of our kind we've ever seen. Still, it's weird to think of anybody as my dad except, you know, my dad."

Michael hadn't even considered the possibility that Ray could be Max and Isabel's father. That would be so not fair. They already had two great adoptive parents.

Not like Michael. After he'd broken out of his incubation pod, a rancher had found him wandering in the desert and dumped him at the orphanage. Michael had been doing his impersonation of a human pinball ever since, bouncing around from one foster home to the next.

Get over it! Michael ordered himself. You're becoming more pathetic by the second.

"You know, there are no laws against operating a moving vehicle while talking," he told Max.

"What? Oh." Max backed the Jeep out of the driveway of Michael's foster home du jour and headed toward the center of town. "We're both getting ahead of ourselves," he told Michael. "We don't even know if Ray is the same species as we are. All he said last night was that he's an alien, too. He could have come from a completely different galaxy or something."

Michael hadn't considered that possibility, either. He was really losing it. At least he hadn't bounded out to the car with seventeen Father's Day presents for Ray. He hadn't sunk to the complete depths of the Pathetic Ocean. Not yet, anyway.

"I guess you're right," he answered. "You know that blast-of-light thing Ray did to trap Valenti in the mall? I don't think we have the power to do anything like that. So maybe he is from someplace else."

Max-aka Mr. Responsibility-slowed down when the stoplight ahead of them turned yellow. Michael would have sped up.

"Or maybe we have powers that we don't even know about," Max commented. "Isabel said that . . . Nikolas could do a lot of stuff we can't."

Michael noticed Max's hesitation before he said Nikolas's name. He understood completely. Just thinking of Nikolas started the acid churning in Michael's stomach.

"Maybe we should be hoping that Ray's a different kind of alien. Nikolas was from our home planet, and he almost got us all killed," Michael muttered. "We should never have let Isabel get near that guy. We knew she'd end up getting hurt."

"As if Isabel would listen to either of us," Max answered. He stopped at the stop sign on Smith Road for a full ten seconds-obviously having paid attention the day Mr. Brown covered the dangers of rolling stops in driver's ed-then continued down the empty street. "And anyway, we tried," he added.

"If Nikolas wasn't already dead, I'd want to kill him myself," Michael spat out, growing more furious with every word. "We warned him to stay away from Sheriff Valenti. We told him Valenti was dangerous."

"We didn't know Valenti would kill him," Max said in a low voice.

Michael didn't answer. No, they hadn't known the sheriff would go that far. It just proved how careful he, Max, and Isabel would have to be from now on.

"At least we got Izzy out of there without Valenti realizing the truth about us," Max said.

Michael was too angry to talk. He had known Nikolas was a stinking piece of sc.u.m. Isabel needed someone better, someone who could really love her the way she deserved. He should have done whatever it took to keep her away from Nikolas.

Max pulled up in front of the UFO museum. "Ray has an apartment on the top floor," he said.

"I can't believe you worked for the guy at the museum and didn't know the truth about him," Michael said as they circled around back. The first time he'd met Ray was last night, and that was only for a few minutes. He wondered if he would feel something from Ray today. Some connection.

Because he could really be my dad. The thought speared through Michael's brain before he could stop it.

When they got out of the Jeep, he dropped back a step so he was out of Max's sight, then wiped his hands on the legs of his jeans. He wished there was something he could do about the clammy patches spreading down his back and under his arms.

"Hey, it's not like alien auras look different or anything," Max answered as he led the way up the stairs to Ray's door. "How was I supposed to know?"

Max rang the doorbell and Ray opened the door a second later. "Figured you'd be here early," he said. "Where's everyone else?"

"Isabel's still pretty shook up," Max said. "She didn't want to come."

Michael was glad Max was doing the talking. His throat had gone completely dry-unlike the rest of his body, which kept pumping out sweat like he was running a marathon.

Ray ushered them into his living room. It was filled with beanbag chairs. And nothing else.

"What about the other three who were at the mall?" Ray asked.

Michael shot a quick glance at him. Max was right about Ray's aura. It didn't give any clue that Ray was different. It was s.h.i.+ning white, with whorls of peaceful green and blue-the aura of a laid-back guy with nothing to hide.

"Uh, I didn't know if it was okay to bring them," Max said. "You know they're humans, right?"

Michael wanted to hear Ray's answer to this question. Would Ray think of humans the way Nikolas had? Nikolas had hated humans. That was one big sign there had been something wrong with him. He'd treated Liz, Maria, and Alex as if they were insects.

Ray laughed, and a few more green spots appeared in his aura. "I find humans quite enjoyable."

"So, who are you?" Michael demanded. His voice came out sounding hoa.r.s.e and ragged. "Where did you come from?"

He hadn't been planning to ask that. He hadn't been planning to ask anything-not yet. At least I didn't use the dad word, Michael thought.

Ray pointed to his T-s.h.i.+rt. It said, I Survived the Roswell Incident.

"Wait. Are you . . . you were on the UFO that crashed back in the forties?" Max stammered. "We always thought . . . we thought our incubation pods came from that s.h.i.+p."

"They did. Anyone want a soda?" Ray asked. "I have some in the kitchen."

Michael felt like his head was spinning. Ray was on the s.h.i.+p with their incubation pods. So that meant he had to be from their planet. And it also meant that the odds that he was Michael's father had gotten much, much better.

Ray started toward the kitchen. Michael stepped in front of him, blocking him. "Wait. Back up," Michael demanded. "You knew about the incubation pods? So why didn't you come looking for us? Why weren't you there when we broke free?"

"Michael, ease off," Max murmured. "Ray's the guy who saved our b.u.t.ts last night."

"Don't tell me to ease off," Michael snapped. "This guy let us spend years not knowing who we are or where we come from or why we have the power we have. We had to stumble around, piecing it all together bit by bit. He didn't even bother to find out if we were alive or dead."

"I didn't have to come looking for you because I knew where you were," Ray explained. "I knew because I put you there. I put your pods in the cave. And then I left you alone. I thought it was your best chance for survival. I couldn't be sure that the government didn't know or at least suspect the truth about me, so it was safest for you to have no connection to me at all."

Michael felt his shoulders relax a little. "So are you . . ." He cleared his throat. "Are any of us related to you, or . . . ? I mean, are you our father or something?"

Michael held his breath as he studied Ray's face. Ray shook his head.

The air whooshed out of Michael's lungs. He felt like a deflated balloon. Too bad, he told himself. No daddy for little Mikey today. It's not like he really cared. Not much.

"The four of you-you two, Isabel, and the boy Sheriff Valenti killed last night-," Ray began.

"Nikolas," Max said.

"You were the children of some of the members of my team. We were scientists a.s.signed to study earth to determine if it would be suitable for colonization," Ray continued. "If it was, we were going to form the first outpost here. But we quickly discovered that humans weren't psychologically ready to share their planet with an alien race."

"And our parents?" Max asked.

Now Michael was finally going to get the answer to the question, the question he'd been asking himself since he first understood what parents were.

"I'm the only survivor of the crash," Ray answered. "I'm sorry."

Michael felt tears sting his eyes. Oh, please. You've been a.s.suming they were dead for years, he reminded himself. But when Ray showed up last night, Michael had started to hope again.

You're almost eighteen, he reminded himself. It's not like you're some little kid. It's not like you need parents. They'd probably just be a pain in the b.u.t.t.