Runner's Moon Trilogy Megabook Series (45 page)

"Yes, they are," he nodded. "But they're not spaceships.

And there are no aliens living here on Earth."

"You're wrong. I'm going to prove you wrong."

That remark got his attention. "Why do you have to prove the existence of aliens? Aren't the spaceship sightings enough?"

"Maybe. Maybe not. Either way I have to have all my evidence ready just in case the board calls for it." Sarah winced. "Somehow I have to get proof that aliens exist. Or at the least that they've landed here."

One eyebrow lifted in derision. "How are you going to do that?"

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"I don't know how, but I will. Give me time. If those ships keeping showing up, I'll find a way to track them down.

Eventually I'll get my proof."

"Sarah, t'korra, give it up before you make a fool of yourself," Simon begged.

"A fool of myself?" She gave him a hard stare. "What's the matter? Don't want people laughing at you because they think you're marrying a woman who's gone mental? Don't want your brother to think you're bringing a nutcase into the family?"

Now she was royally pissed. Angrily she strode back to the computer and began shutting it down. The lights in the auditorium came up. She hastily wiped away the tears on her cheeks before he could see them.

"That's not what I mean, and you know it," he gently scolded her.

"Yeah, it is. That's exactly what you're implying," she shot back. "You don't want to entertain the notion that maybe, maybe there's a grain of truth in what I'm proposing. But if you loved me the way you say you do, then you would at least accept what I'm doing and support me. Regardless of whether or not you believe in what I'm doing."

The system powered down before shutting itself off.

Without waiting to see if he was following her, Sarah grabbed her purse and stalked down the aisle toward the main doors.

When she reached them, she wasn't surprised to find Simon reach past her to push down the bar, opening the door and letting her exit first. They remained in silence while she unlocked the lobby doors to let them out.

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They were walking to the parking lot when Simon broke the silence. "Okay. For a minute let's assume aliens have landed here. Why haven't we seen any? Given that some may have landed in areas where humans normally don't go, the law of averages states that some had to have landed near populated areas."

"I've thought about that. Maybe they have some sort of invisibility device that keeps them from being detected. Or maybe they took over the bodies of some people and are trying to blend in that way."

They reached the lot where Simon had parked the motorcycle beside her sedan. They stood there, neither one willing to leave first, when Simon asked, "Sarah, what would you do if you were confronted by an alien?"

"Do? It depends."

"On what?"

"On where I was. What I was doing. If there was anyone else nearby who could help."

"So you think aliens are something to be afraid of?" His tone was wistful, almost wounded, which surprised her. She started to reply when he interrupted her. "Forget everything you've seen on television or in the movies. Let's look at this from a pragmatic viewpoint."

"You know, for a man who works in construction, you have a very big vocabulary."

The remark earned her a lopsided grin. "I felt it necessary to learn the language once I got here. But back to what I want to say. You are looking for proof of an extraterrestrial 623

life form so you can keep your job and hopefully retire in twenty or thirty years. Have I got this right?"

He was tired and irritated. Put out with her, she thought.

She could see it in his face, in his body language. Her eyes lingered for a moment on the shadow creasing the front of his pants. Her body responded with a heated need that made her shiver.

A gentle rush of hope swooped down on her before she was aware of it. She could feel it as certainly as the smooth texture of her purse she clutched in her hands. At first the warm peacefulness was no more than a slight breeze in the air until it brushed against her skin. Sarah relaxed slightly and savored the love evoked by the feeling. It was then she saw him reach for his helmet.

"What if I asked you to forget the treatise, Sarah? What if I asked you to forget this idiotic search for aliens on Earth?"

The plea stunned her. "Do you realize what you're asking me?" she managed to gasp, numb with disbelief.

By his face, though, she could tell he knew exactly what he was asking of her. "I'm asking you to trust me. Stop pursuing this crazy idea. Forget the treatise. If the college pink slips you, trust that I'll be able to provide for you until you decide when and if you want to look for another position elsewhere."

"You're asking me to throw away years of research?"

He didn't hesitate to answer. "Yes."

"Why? For crying out loud, give me one valid reason why!"

She watched him get on his bike and realized he was leaving without her. He was going back to his apartment, not 624

with her to hers. An invisible hand grabbed her heart and squeezed it painfully.

"Because I'm afraid that if you do find your aliens, I won't be able to save you," his deep voice answered softly.

The motorcycle roared. Sarah watched helplessly as he backed out of the parking space. One last look passed between them. Then he lowered the visor on his helmet and gunned the engine, speeding away.

That wonderful sense of hope shredded, curled up, and blew away with his departure.

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His head was pounding, and his stomach lurched uneasily.

Yet neither pain could compare to the agony tearing into his heart. Less than a mile from her apartment, Simon was forced to pull over to the side of the road and stop.

He needed to run. He needed to shed his outer skin and let his true self breathe in the night, hoping it would soothe his pain. But not here. He gripped the handlebars so tightly the metal rods began to bend inward.

Yes. A run. Taking him as far into the undeveloped back woods as he could go.

Run until his legs no longer would support him, or his lungs breathed fire.

T'korra. T'korra. Why?

When he closed his eyes, all he could see were the pictures she'd flashed upon the ceiling. The moment he had spotted the tiny craft, almost indistinguishable from the other stars and planets, he knew what he was looking at before she had the chance to explain.

Their escape craft. The Arran ship they had escaped in to land on Earth almost seven years ago.

The sight of the ovoid light had glued him where he stood, as well as shut down his thinking process and ceased his breathing.

They had been seen. Their descent had been recorded for anyone to view.

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And then ... she had shown him the other photos. The ones of the Arran crafts. The scout ships sent to search for their lost cargo—the thirty-one Ruinos who had fled and were now embedded somewhere on an insignificant little planet in a rarely traveled section of the cosmos.

If Sarah was able to get the photos, that meant others had them, too. Other people. Influential people. People who would see in them the same things Sarah did. People who would believe in the presence of aliens but with the ability or means to discover the creatures who had taken refuge on this planet.

People who might try to destroy them or capture them just like the Arra were trying.

By all the stars, had there really been that many ships sent to search for them?

Simon tore off his helmet and drew in deep gulps of air.

He'd nearly lost it at the planetarium when she had told him what she was doing. It had taken every ounce of mental strength not to relay his terror to her but to send a feeling of comfort to her instead. Sarah had grown angry. She was possibly still angry with him, most likely for all the wrong reasons. But there was no way he could tell her any differently.

The phone at his hip vibrated. He put it to his ear without glancing at it.

"I can smell your horror down here," Jebaral's voice rang in his ear. "Your blood line has gone white. What's happened?

What can I do to help?" He spoke in their native tongue, which told Simon his brother was alone.

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"By the heavens," Simon gasped, "Sarah has proof of our landing seven years ago."

The silence on the phone was deafening. He knew without looking at his own inner arm that his brother was drinking in his icy terror along with him.

"She also has pictures of the Arran ships sent to search for us."

"How many?" Jebaral's voice was clipped with fear.

Simon understood the question. How many ships, not how many pictures.

"By her count and mine, twenty-two ships. The last one was sighted three days ago. She gets regular feeds from a telescope mounted in Hawaii."

"Any pattern to their appearance, did you notice?"

"None that I noticed. But to be honest I was too numb to pay that much attention." The phone nearly slipped out of his clammy hand. Wiping his palm on the thighs of his pants, Simon replaced the receiver to his ear.

"This could be a good thing, sighting the Arra before they land. Knowing where they're heading before they touch down."

"I know that," Simon said. "But that isn't what terrifies me.

She's going public with this information. She's going to publish her findings. Jebaral, if the right person hears it and checks her facts—"

"—they will discover us if they discover the Arra," Jebaral finished for him. "Her information could be instrumental in millions of deaths on this world if humans discover the Arra."

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Simon nodded, not caring whether or not his sibling could see him. "The Arra don't care for this species. We both know that. They think this population is too weak to contain or even use. If these people find out about the Arra, they will try to stop them because this planet fears the thought of an invasion from another world. The Arra will slaughter them without a second thought if they believe these people will try to attack them."

"Have you tried to talk to Sarah? To talk her out of publishing her information?"

"You know I have. It was of no use. She needs to publish her facts in order to maintain her position and her job at the university."

"Can't she find something else to publish?"

"She's already spent years on this project," Simon informed him. "When I tried to push the issue, she withdrew from me. Jebaral ... I hurt so bad inside, it's nearly unbearable. She's pushed me away. How? How is it possible?

She's my life mate!"

"Because you haven't taken her in your true form, Simolif,"

his brother gently reminded him. "Your connection may be there, but until you have orgasmed while Ruinos, it will remain tenuous and unstable. Of course, this is theory on my part. Neither I nor Tiron made love to our blood mates in human form first, like you did."

It was Jebaral's theory, yes, but Simon knew his brother spoke the truth. His connection to Sarah was unmistakable, just as hers was to him. Right now, if he allowed himself to open up that fragile line between them, her sadness would 629

reach through and wrap around him. Choking him on her tears.

"She feels like I've deserted her," he whispered, barely able to contain his own unhappiness. "Between her belief that I'm rejecting her, and my own horror at knowing what she's about to do, I am caught inside the bars of my own cage.

Jebaral, what can I do?"

"You know what you must do," Jebaral murmured in his ear. "Until she knows you as Ruinos, your troubles will only increase. As will your sorrow ... and hers."

Simon raised a hand to his face and discovered to his horror that he had shed his human skin. A hasty examination of his face revealed his alien features laid bare. In his agony he had inadvertently shape-shifted back to his real form.

A pair of headlights were bearing down on him from behind. He was safely off the side of the road, but that didn't prevent someone spotting him in the glare. Quickly he resumed the blond persona he had adopted as his disguise years ago.

"Simon?"

"Forgive me. I was thinking."

There was a heavy sigh. "You need to rest. Run and rest, Simolif. Go home and run. Let yourself open up and listen to your life mate's needs. Perhaps they will give you an idea of which direction to go. Then rest. Tomorrow will give you a new chance to love her."

"I need her now, Jebaral. She is life to me."

"And I will defend her with my life, as well. You know that, Simolif. But until you find a way to reveal yourself to her, she 630

will not be able to read you the same way you read her. And there will be arguments and disagreements and misunderstandings." The man's voice dropped to a pitch a normal human ear could not pick up. "Until her blood line forms in our arms, she will never truly be yours."

A shudder ran through his body. Along with it came a thought that almost convulsed him in pain. "What ... what if I cannot show her my true self? Could this connection weaken?

Could she ... is it possible she would stop loving me?"

This time there was no denying the fact that Jebaral was beginning to weep over his brother's circumstances. "If she does, little brother, I will lose you. Don't do that to us, Simolif. After all we've been forced to endure as slaves to the Arra, after finding our way here and finally finding our life mates ... find a way and find it soon. Please. You deserve all the richness she will bring to you. The pleasure, the happiness. Hurry, Simolif, and find a way to show her."

Another car drove by. This one honked its horn at the man straddling the big Harley off on the shoulder. Overhead, above the treetops, he could see the thinning moon barely rising into view. "Soon. You have my word. Soon. You will get to meet her and rejoice at our marriage before the new moon."

"That's six days from now," Jebaral chuckled. "Are you sure you can do it in that amount of time?"

"Yes. Or at least I think I can ... maybe," Simon admitted with a little grin.

Both men laughed softly, although they each had their doubts as to what the end of the week would bring.

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