Starstruck (45 page)

With an ear-splitting boom the sphere exploded in midair, sending sparks and shards raining down on the whole clearing. Reacting instantly, Rigel pulled me to the ground and shielded me with his body, like he had before, and I had a fleeting glimpse of everyone else, friend and foe, also hitting the dirt. The debris fell for several seconds, then stopped.

Slowly, fearfully, I raised my head and saw others doing the same. Shim appeared unhurt, other than a burn on one hand, which he was shaking. Mr. Stuart, who had covered his wife just as Rigel had covered me, seemed okay, too. Rigel moved, letting me up, and I twisted around quickly to check on him. He greeted me with a grin and I let out my breath in relief. In fact, everyone who had still been standing before the explosion appeared all right, if shaken.

Except Boyne Morven.

Maybe because he’d been closest to it, or maybe because he’d been enveloped in whatever shield the orb had been generating when it blew up, he’d been knocked halfway across the clearing and appeared to be unconscious—or worse. Not that I was going to feel the least bit guilty about it, Martian heritage or no. The guy had just tried to kill me—and Rigel.

“Is everyone all right?” Shim asked as we all clambered to our feet to take stock.

Everyone on our side who could nodded, even though I could see that several had cuts or burns of some sort. The couple of people from Morven’s side who were still in the clearing remained sitting, covered by the weapons of two of Shim’s people.

People on both sides I’d feared were dead were starting to stir, apparently only stunned. To my intense relief, Dr. Stuart was one of those.

Mr. Stuart instantly noticed her moving. “Ariel!” he exclaimed, kneeling beside her. “Oh, thank God!”

Rigel moved to his mother’s side as well, but never released his grip on my hand so I came along, too. “Mom! I was afraid you were . . . you know.”

“I’m fine, dear,” she said with a weak smile. “Or I will be, once the queasiness passes. What happened?”

“I’d rather like to know the answer to that myself,” Shim said, coming over to join us. “Rigel, Sov—er, Marsha, what exactly was that? Not that we’re ungrateful, of course.”

Rigel and I looked at each other, then back at Shim. In that brief exchange of glances, I could have sworn I heard Rigel say,
Truth.

“We’re not exactly sure, sir,” he said aloud. “We’ve experienced something similar a couple of times before, but nothing anywhere near as strong as this.”

Shim looked at me and I shrugged, too. “It just seemed like . . . the thing to do, sir. We definitely didn’t have time to plan it.”

His expression softened. “I suppose not. But once we’ve all had a chance to, er, recover and clean up a bit, I’d like to have a talk with both of you about this interesting, ah, ability you seem to have.”

I was startled to see Shim nearly at a loss for words. But I had a question of my own. “What
was
that thing, sir? What would it have done to me, if we hadn’t, er—”

It was Mr. Stuart who answered. “An Ossian Sphere. They were working on a prototype back on Mars nearly a hundred years ago. It disrupts electromagnetic impulses. It was being developed as a way to stop runaway reactions, but they discovered it also had the potential to affect organic impulses—neurons. Also, to short out all electronics within a fairly large area. Given that an accident with it could have crippled our entire colony, the project was shut down. I had no idea Faxon revived it.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t publicized,” Shim said. “But I’ll make certain word reaches him that we now have an effective defense against it.” He smiled at Rigel and me and I felt my cheeks grow warm.

“Shim,” Dr. Stuart said, moving to stand beside her husband. She seemed to be nearly herself again. “Do you think you can get a ride back with one of your people if we leave you to handle the details and . . . cleanup? I’d like to get Marsha and Rigel out of here.”

He blinked. “Of course, Ariel. I was forgetting for a moment that they’re only—But you’re quite right. I’ll see you all later.”

“Come on.” Her words included Mr. Stuart as well as the two of us. “I believe something was said about going for ice cream?”

CHAPTER 27

Resolution matrix

After ice cream (yes, we really did get ice cream—Dr. Stuart claimed we needed it, plus she’d told my aunt we would and she didn’t want to lie) we went back to the Stuarts’ house to clean up.

There was no way I could go to Bri’s house covered in dirt, straw and corn shuckings, and my only change of clothes was my Homecoming dress. So I called Bri and canceled, using my aunt as an excuse.

The Stuarts had three full baths and either an enormous water heater or some spiffy Martian technology with the same effect, so I was able to take a long, luxurious, guilt-free shower—something I hardly ever got to do at home. Dr. Stuart threw my jeans and shirt in the wash at the same time, so I wouldn’t have to explain the state of those clothes to Aunt Theresa later.

By the time I finished drying my hair it was getting late, so I went ahead and put on the floaty, seafoam-green dress Bri had lent me. It fit beautifully, the halter top leaving my shoulders bare but without being at all risqué. Dr. Stuart helped me with my hair and makeup.

“Indulge me,” she said when I protested that she’d already done enough. “One of my few regrets is that I’ve never had a daughter to dress up.”

Since I couldn’t think of any possible argument—not to mention how special it made me feel to have her fussing over me—I relaxed and enjoyed the attention.

Rigel seemed to appreciate the results, judging by his expression when we emerged from his parents’ room. All he said aloud was “wow,” but his eyes said much more.

I smiled but didn’t say anything. Ever since he’d told me he loved me—at least, once we were out of crisis mode—I’d felt kind of shy and tongue-tied around him. I kept wondering if I’d imagined it, or if he’d maybe only said it because he thought we were about to die, but I couldn’t think of any way to ask that wouldn’t sound needy. And now he looked so gorgeous in his dark suit and white shirt that he almost didn’t seem real—certainly not like someone who could possibly love
me
.

He held out his hand to me, though, and when I took it, I found it a little easier to believe. Together, we went downstairs.

Only to be met by Shim and Mr. Stuart, both looking very serious.

“M, Rigel, would you mind very much postponing your special dinner?” Rigel’s dad asked. “There’s barely time as it is, and Shim feels it’s important that you both be brought up to speed on the situation as soon as possible. I can’t help but agree.”

I glanced at Rigel and he shrugged, so we both nodded. I hoped this wouldn’t mean missing the dance, but I didn’t want to sound shallow by saying so out loud.

Mr. Stuart must have read my expression, or maybe it was a mental communication from his wife, who had come down the stairs just behind us. “Not to worry,” he said, “we’ll make sure you get to the Homecoming dance. And Rigel, you can take M out for a nice dinner some other time. Soon,” he added with another glance at Dr. Stuart. “I’ve already ordered pizza to be delivered.”

“You both look very nice,” Shim said, though it was obvious his mind was on other matters. “Now, suppose we get right to business? The dining room is probably a good place to talk.”

Wordlessly, we followed him to the big table. Even though Rigel had a firm grip on my hand, I couldn’t help feeling a little bit nervous. What
other
threat might be out there that we hadn’t been told about?

Once we were seated, though, Shim’s stern expression relaxed into a smile. “I want to commend you both for your actions this afternoon. Between you, you have averted a hideous threat to this planet and its people, as well as to innumerable Martians on both planets who oppose Faxon and his regime. On their behalf, I am exceedingly grateful. I would, however, like to hear how you managed it.”

Again Rigel and I exchanged a glance, then he answered. “We, um, discovered recently that together we seem to be able to create an electrical charge. It’s how we stopped Mr. Truitt’s runaway car last night.”

Shim’s eyebrows rose. “I see. So today was not the first manifestation of this, er, power? I trust the Truitts have no suspicion of the truth?”

“Oh, no,” I said quickly. “Rigel convinced them he’d just turned off the car—he was really fast, and everything was so confused, they didn’t question it. Anyway, I’ve never gotten the least hint they know the truth about me. They definitely would have said something by now, if they did.”

“And how did you know you could do this last night?” he asked Rigel.

After sliding a quick look my way, Rigel faced his grandfather and told him about the incident with Bryce Farmer. From his parents’ shocked expressions, this was the first they’d heard about that, though they didn’t interrupt him.

“It took me as much by surprise as it did M,” he concluded. “It’s also what made her start demanding explanations.” He gave me a quick smile. “I sort of thought
you
might know how it’s possible, Grandfather.”

Shim looked at us for a long moment, then finally nodded. “It appears, as you may suspect already, that the two of you share a true
graell
bond—something most of our people would consider impossible. However, there is no other plausible explanation I can think of. Nor is it completely unexpected—to me, at any rate. Unfortunately, news of your bond will be unpopular in some quarters, but we can discuss the ramifications at some future date. First, I thought you would be interested to learn how things stand after this afternoon’s events.”

“Yes, sir, we would,” I agreed. “Is everyone . . . all right?” I didn’t really care about Morven, but I’d been worrying about those on our side.

“My people have recovered for the most part,” he said, “though one or two may need a few days to return to complete health. Thank you for asking, Princess. Morven’s people, those few we captured, appear to be mostly recovered as well. Morven himself did not fare so well, but he is alive and had finally regained consciousness at last report. He may make a full recovery in time, though it is too soon to know.”

“And what happens after he recovers?” I asked, frowning. “I know Martians—not counting Faxon and his followers—don’t believe in killing. So, since there must not be a death penalty, what will they do to Morven? And Smith? And Faxon, for that matter, if he’s overthrown? I mean, what kind of criminal penalties
do
you have on Mars?”

“Memory modification,” Mr. Stuart replied. His wife and Shim nodded.

“It hasn’t been used more than a dozen times in the past hundred years,” Shim explained, “But yes, we have the technology to erase memories. It is considered the ultimate form of rehabilitation.”

I blinked. “Like, give somebody complete amnesia?”

“Usually not. Usually just enough to give someone a fresh start from the point they began to go wrong. But in extreme cases, such as Faxon’s—or Morven’s—we do have the power to do a
tabula rasa
—wipe the slate blank.”

I nodded, satisfied. If anyone deserved that, Faxon did, since he was the reason I had no family.

Rigel spoke up then. “Sir, I’m curious about something else. How could Morven have had so many people supporting him, without us—you—knowing about it? And how did they all find us so quickly?”

“A fair question.” Shim sighed. “I received a painful—but necessary—kick in my complacency today. My biggest regret is that my arrogance put others—and especially the two of you—at risk. When we identified Morven as the ringleader of the invasion movement here on Earth, we kept what I thought was a close watch upon him. Obviously not close enough. He clearly found ways to recruit adherents, and to communicate with them without our knowledge.

“As for today, we discovered what was essentially a GPS homing device on his person, which directed his followers to his precise location once activated. It is disturbing that there were so many of them within a few hours’ travel of Jewel. It means their total numbers were clearly far greater than we had guessed.”

“Were?” Rigel looked at his grandfather, then his father.

It was Mr. Stuart who answered. “We’re hopeful that with Morven out of the picture, and especially once news of today’s events spreads—which it will—the invasion movement will wither away, along with support for Faxon, both here and back on Mars.”

“But . . . we don’t actually know yet, do we?” I asked. Surely it was too good to be true that the bad guys were all vanquished
and
that Rigel really loved me. I just wasn’t that lucky.

“No, not yet,” Shim conceded. “We can’t again make the mistake of underestimating the lengths to which fanatics will go.” He sent a wry glance Mr. Stuart’s way.

The doorbell rang just then, making everyone jump—at least, I did.

“The pizza,” Dr. Stuart murmured, breaking the tense silence.

She went to answer the door and came back a moment later with two large pizzas, which immediately lightened the atmosphere. While we ate, Shim told us that a few of those captured had been forthcoming with information, and he expected to be able to locate and destroy the remaining Ossian Spheres within the next week or two. Also, that it was fear of those devices that had convinced many of them to follow Morven in the first place.