pygmalion

by DocPaul

Chapter Twenty-eight: There’s no chance for us,

It’s all decided for us,

This world has only one sweet moment set aside for us.

Day Forty-two: Monday, 1:23 am

“Maria! Stop it!” Michael struggled to get the door of the loft unlocked with Maria crowding his back and tickling him. He wasn’t ticklish. Not really. Well, except in that one spot. Michael squirmed out from her tormenting fingers. “Behave!”

Maria just laughed softly and nuzzled the back of his neck. They were late getting back. They had taken a few detours along the way, including a very late stop. When Roswell finally came into view, both of them sighed in resignation. Home shouldn’t be something to dread. Maria had played word games with Michael all the way home, purposely finding the most sexually suggestive rhyming words and play on sounds. It was good to hear him laugh, really laugh! A deep chuckle that started low and just found a voice.

“What’s taking so long?” Maria whispered in his ear. “Do it! Just use your powers. It gets me all hot and bothered.”

Michael turned in mock outrage. “You said watching me eat mangos for breakfast did that.”

“That too.”

“Changing the oil in the car?”

“Uh huh!”

Michael’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Scratching my armpits?”

“Oh, baby!”

Michael growled, “You are sick!”

Maria just laughed as he lunged at her, pinning her wiggling body against the door as he made loud obnoxious noises into her neck and tickled her along her ribs. She was laughing and begging him to stop when the door they were plastered against suddenly opened, dumping them on the onto the floor of their foyer. Sean stood over them in nothing but a pair of boxers and an irritated scowl.

Michael looked up from the floor with Maria sprawled on top of him. “I’m going to shoot you! I swear, this time I really mean it. Right between your beady little eyes!”

“Oh, shut up! You don’t scare anyone.”

Maria quickly scrambled to her feet with Sean’s help. “Now, boys, stop that.” Turning to her cousin, Maria paused in her questioning as Julia came out of the guest bedroom wearing nothing but Sean’s shirt. Julia? “Um, is there something we should know?”

Sean looked at Julia worriedly. She was still so pale and silent. He rubbed his hands across his face and shared a look with her. “Julia’s house was bombed late on Friday night. Actually Saturday morning.”

It took a while for the entire story to be told. Maria sat next to Julia, holding her hand in comfort. Michael was pacing the floor angrily and Sean…well, Sean was doing what he always did when he was upset. He was cooking.

“What did the initial investigation show?”

Sean paused to sneak pieces of prosciutto to the cats, who were both crouching expectantly at his feet. “There was a gas man in the neighborhood that day, supposedly looking for a leak in the main gas line. A neighbor noticed him, even talked to him, but his features were so common she couldn’t give more than a basic description of height and stuff. No help.”

Michael swore and tossed a crumpled up napkin across the room, staring at the large hole in the wall leading into the new addition. “This damn joker is a spook. He walks in and out at will. He uses common everyday jobs, jobs that no one questions, and sets up his bombs right in front of a room full of people, even in a PD!” He stood with his hands on his hips, his jaw was clenching. “I’m telling you, brother, this is something more than just a targeting. This is a damn vendetta.”

“Against Mac?” Sean glanced worriedly at Julia. “That can’t be! She’s only been in Roswell for a short time. Hardly enough time to create enemies, except perhaps for the Society for the Prevention to Excessive Chicken-Eating.”

Michael shook his head. “All of it. Valenti. The loft. The PD. The DA’s office. Julia’s car. Julia’s home. It has the feel of revenge.” Michael’s jaw flexed again. “No. I take that back. It does, and it doesn’t. I think we’re making a mistake. We’re trying to connect all the threads, weave them into one large tapestry to make the connection. This has too many pieces. It has to be more than one job, one case. Our problem is that we’re mixing it up.”

Sean stopped stirring the pot to add escarole to the boiling broth. Maria was stuffing her face, eating off a plate of antipasto that Sean had put together. She had finished the stuffed mushrooms and fresh mozzarella wrapped in prosciutto. “Is that a soup, Sean? Mom’s recipe?”

“Maria!” Michael’s voice was cross and she quickly looked at him questioningly. He sighed. Coming next to her, he kissed her mouth, and then bent low and kissed her pregnant stomach. “Sorry, honey. Here, feed your face.”

Maria smiled slightly but her smile didn’t touch her eyes. Grabbing his head between her hands, she forced him to make eye contact with her, as her gentle eyes met his stormy ones. Michael closed his eyes, and rested against her for a moment. He could see it. She was offering him focus, a mental clarifying prism, pushing his energy matrix through which he could see the strands of power. It was calming. Satisfying.

“What the fuck is that?”

Both of them opened their eyes at the same time and looked over at Sean. The hair on his arms was standing up. “Static electricity?” Maria offered as a possibility. Julia was staring at her own arm, and she looked down at the cats and laughed. Their fur was standing on end. They looked like porcupines.

“Oh my God!” Julia laughed and picked up the Fluff, smoothing her down. Mr. Boo seemed put out by his new afro style and was frantically licking his fur to tame his pelt.

Michael quickly moved to divert Julia’s attention. “Look, Sean, I’m saying that if there are more than one or two contracts that are working here, we’re trying to connect pieces that will never fit. This guy slinks in and out because he has the ability to blend. Hence the name Chameleon. We’ve spent too many days and manpower hours trying to find a face to a man that has none.”

“So we need to decide which cases are related, and which are not.”

Michael sat close to Maria with his hand resting on her one leg. “Maybe. Obviously the attack on Cap was meant to maim, but not kill. It has to be related to the attack on the loft. I would say it was Amy and Maria that are the targets, but the purpose is to hurt Cap. But I can’t know that for sure. Maria and Amy come from a family that has enemies. You do too.”

“Connections? Through the DeLucas?” Sean pondered that for a moment. “It’s possible, but highly unlikely. My father would’ve heard of a contract on Maria and Aunt Amy. It’s his job to know these things. He would know if someone was gunning for his family. No…this isn’t possible. It has to be through Cap.”

Michael ate off the tray and took the bowl of steaming soup that Sean handed over and placed it in front of Maria along with fresh bread. He smiled as she made a happy sound and started eating with gusto. Hungry. She was always hungry, but no longer starving. Her stomach was finally starting to look like it should at over seven months pregnant.

“Julia isn’t connected to Cap.”

Julia was quiet as they talked. Her own mind was searching for a possible reason someone would have to kill her, and to kill her indiscriminately enough to take out other innocent people. There were innocent people lost in the bombing of the DA’s offices. “Maybe it isn’t just me?”

The two men stopped arguing and talking to turn to the usually quiet ADA. “What you mean, Mac?” Michael asked before Sean could.

Julia shrugged her thin shoulders that were huddled over in Sean’s shirt. “I’m saying that maybe this thing is aimed at me, but not because of me, and taking out people in the DA office is just an added bonus.”

Maria stopped eating for a moment. “True. How could someone hurt Michael? Sure they could lend him a real fast car, because he’s sure to wreck it.”

Michael made a face. He had only totalled four cars since they had been together. At least three of them weren’t his fault. He liked to blame Max. Michael stopped making faces long enough to understand what Maria was saying.

“It’s true. An attack at me personally would be welcomed, expected, but the real way to hurt me would be to…” Michael looked at Maria and then placed his hands on her stomach. His family. Maria. The babies. “Would be to hurt those I love. It would do more damage than a bullet to the head.”

“So they’re hurting Cap’s family to hurt Jim.” Sean said, and looking at Julia. She was alone in the world except for her mother. And him. “And they’re hurting Julia…to hurt me.”

The room was quiet as Sean digested the realization that perhaps it wasn’t about Pierce and Julia, but rather about someone wanting to get to him, make him hurt more than a slap to his head would. Of course. He had a taste and tolerance to pain. Hitting him would be like giving candy to a baby, and make him stand up wanting more…looking for it. Losing Julia would…

“Shit!” Sean rubbed his eyes.

“Wait, so these cases can be connected. What is the connection between you and Cap? What is unique to you?” Michael paced the floor again. He walked with his hands on his hip deep in through. “Sean, when do you testify?”

“The IA case against Vice and Strickland?”

“Yeah. When is it?”

Sean wiped his hands coming out from behind the counter. “Friday. I testify Friday. They changed it from Thursday. Only a few people know that. Cap testifies on Tuesday. He was scheduled to testify on Thursday, but IA moved it up to Tuesday.” Sean’s face clouded and he suddenly looked coldly angry. “Strickland? You think this is Strickland?”

Michael paused. Closing his eyes, he thought for a moment. All he could see was Strickland leaving that day, walking out as the entire bullpen turned their back on him. “Strickland. The water cooler. It was aimed at Major Crimes. Not just Cap. Jim was right about that.” No wonder. It felt like a vendetta with a purpose. Sean had information he had gathered during his years in Vice about Strickland and his underhanded dealings and questionable tactics. When he transferred to Major Crimes, he gave all he had to Jim. Together they went to IA, and it had taken over a year of IA investigating using Sean’s information for them to slowly piece together a case against Strickland. This led to his being suspended, brought back only temporarily when Jim had been hospitalized.

Maria, who had remained silent, looked at the two men. They were angry. More than a little angry. Her Mrs. Mulhoney was collateral damage in this affair. Sean’s friend! “Sean, what about Andy?”

Sean closed his eyes and looked up at the ceiling. “Oh shit! Andy. He had something. Something he needed to tell me or give me, but he never got a chance.” Sean sat down heavily on the sofa and buried his head in his hands for a moment. It was too fucking much to even think about, or comprehend. “One corrupt cop. This is all about one corrupt cop?” Sean looked over at Julia with regret in his eyes. “I swear, I thought it was Pierce. It felt like Pierce to me.”

“Maybe it is.” Maria said softly. “Every monkey has a chain. For every puppet, there is a master.” Maria looked at her cousin. “I’ve never known your instinct to be wrong. If it feels like Pierce, than maybe it is both Pierce and Strickland. You said it a thousand times that Pierce has contacts, leaks in the department. Andy came to Michael when you were taken that one time, because he couldn’t afford to give the information in public in case Pierce was alerted.”

Michael warmed to the subject. “Pierce has run unhindered for years despite our best efforts, and most of the cases that would or should’ve taken him down were bungled up by Vice. It’s only been since the last eighteen to twenty months that we made roadways into Pierce’s organization and operations. Major Crimes did that. Not Vice. If Strickland was on Pierce’s payroll, which he had to be,  then perhaps Pierce is protecting his connections and sources.”

Sean shook his head. “It’s too clean.” He saw Michael’s face. “No. I agree. Strickland is a definite payroll flunky of Pierce. Has to be. No way any department can be that incompetent and corrupt. I was in that department for over two years, and I couldn’t wait to get out. I’m just saying that Pierce has tentacles in the department. Lots of them. He’s getting information that even Strickland doesn’t know. Sometimes in the last year it felt like he was close, too close. Inner circle close.”

Maria yawned and Michael moved closer to her. She had finished two bowls of soup, half an antipasto platter, and half a loaf of bread. The babies were still hungry, forcing her to eat incredible amounts of food, but her altered blood was finally able to efficiently transport the energy and products necessary for their growth. He pulled her against his body and let her lean into him.

“We’ll figure this out later. I need to put someone to bed.” Maria made a soft meowing noise in her throat in agreement. She was tired. The trip home was long, and a full stomach was making her want to rest. Her hand came to rest on Michael’s stomach as she patted him. “I do want to know why the hell you invaded our home again? I told you they were doing construction.”

Sean shrugged and took Julia’s hand to lead her back to bed. “Nowhere else to go. Kyle and Tess are doing some family thing with Tess’s adopted family. Max and Jonathan are gone for the weekend. Isabel and Liz are camping on the Reservation, and Aunt Amy and Jim don’t need another reason for a mad bomber to target them. I couldn’t take Julia home to her mom’s house. That just makes her mother a target too.”

“So you’d rather blow up our home?”

Sean smiled charmingly. “Now that is a thought! But, no. Tell me where else I could stash Julia that has more protection than this place? You are one mean paranoid sonnabitch, Michael, and this place is a Fort Knox. Add in that Ms. Fluffy was here, it seemed ideal.” Sean laughed at Michael’s snort. After letting Julia proceed him into the downstairs guest room, Sean looked back at Michael. “We only slept in your bed the last two nights. Thought you might want it back tonight.”

Sean quickly shut the door at Michael’s angry response. Maria stood up and yawned again. “Detective….Detective! Calm down. He’s just joking.” Michael looked down at Maria as she moved her head into his chest and rubbed it tiredly. “Baby, I’m so tired. Can’t you beat him up tomorrow?” Maria looked up at her husband. “Take me to bed.”

~~~

“I’m really sorry about us invading your home, Maria.”

Maria smiled and passed Julia the jam. Peach. Homemade by her Aunt Sophia. “Don’t be. You’re always welcome here for as long as you need a place. I’m glad you weren’t in the house.”

Julia sank her head in her hands and groaned. “God! My whole life, gone! All of it. My photos, diplomas. My computer!” Even after two days, she couldn’t imagine where to begin or how to start to pull her life back together. The thought of what could’ve happened hit her hard. “Maria, we almost were in the house. Sean took me home. He was watching over me that evening, and he picked me up at work. If he hadn’t, I would’ve come straight home. Gone to bed. And as it was, if we hadn’t…been delayed in entering the house…” Julia looked up at Maria, the horror still etched on her face. “I…the security light. It...it came on, and…” Julia licked her lips and looked away. “It came on and in less than a breath, my house blew up in front of my very eyes, and Sean pushed me down on the car seat and covered me with his body. It took the ER four hours to remove all the shards of glass out of his back. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and I had shards in my legs. Yesterday, I was still finding glass in his hair.”

“Jesus!” Maria’s face clouded, and her eyes filled. No more. It was insane. No more people. She was tired of burying people she loved. Jahne. Diane. Mrs. Mulhoney. Her life was nothing but a long resume of loss. She had almost lost Michael. Sean. Her mother. Julia. Liz. Her babies. “Excuse me.” Maria left Julia to finish eating. She went upstairs to her bedroom, and picked up the phone to make the call. It took a few moments for the phone to be answered. Taking a deep breath, Maria ignored her shaking hands. “I need help.” She stopped to listen to the deep reassuring voice on the other end. They already knew. They had been watching. What did she want them to do? “I want you to take out a contract. Hire the Chameleon.”

~~~

“I have a late meeting tonight. You want to meet me for dinner after?” Jonathan asked as he frowned at his tie. It just didn’t look right. Undoing it, he retied it again.

Max pushed him aside and tied the tie. “You do this every day. Half the time it’s perfect, and the other half you act like you’ve never tied a tie before.”

Jonathan watched Max’s face as he quickly moved the tie around and tied it to perfection. “I know how. I just like you to do it for me.” Jonathan said with his tongue in his cheek.

“Really?” Max pushed the tie up tight and gave it a forceful yank, pulling Jonathan down a bit for a quick kiss.

“Really.” Jonathan laughed and grabbed his jacket. “Have you seen my silver shirt studs?”

“Top of the dresser on the right.”

“Great. I thought I left them in my pants pockets again. I swear the dry cleaner’s guy is collecting them for himself.” Jonathan sorted through his clothing. “Are you dropping off dry cleaning, or you want me to do it this time?”

“I’ll do it.” Max quickly sorted through his shirts that needed to be taken along with Jonathan’s. “I know you swear that you aren’t related to Maria, but I don’t believe it. She’s lost more laundry than a human can possibly lose. The first year she and Michael were together, she lost their laundry over eight times. He had to call around to all the laundries in town to locate his stuff.”

Jonathan just grunted. “You jest, but in some countries the position of a person is defined by their relationship to their laundry.”

Max snorted in response.

“No. Really! Ask Maria. She once told me this story…”

Max started laughing. Yeah, he had heard a few of Maria’s theories and stories.

Jonathan smiled. “You, my friend, need to learn to take that girl seriously. She is one observant, spicy pizza pie.”

Max laughed harder. “Pizza pie?”

“Uh huh. Pepperoni. Extra mozzarella.”

“Fresh?”

Jonathan looked at him seriously. “Is there any other kind?”

Max grabbed his jacket and quickly put on his shoulder holster, he looked up to see Jonathan watching him. “What?”

Jonathan shrugged and smiled. “Love a man packing heat!” Max put a hand in his face and pushed him back on his way out of the bedroom.

“Where am I meeting you?”

“Towers? Nine-thirty?”

Max shook his head. “Nah, I don’t feel like dressing or staying in my work clothes that long. Make it Senior Chows, and I’ll spot you a beer and pool.”

“Quarter a ball?”

Max laughed. “Quarter is affordable, or how about winner gets to be the top?”

Jonathan laughed and then stopped. Was he serious? Whoa! Max, was he talking about…oh shit. “Whoa, there, Detective, you talking about…”

“Nope. Not talking about anything, because I am late. Senior Chows. Nine-thirty. Come packing or prepare to meet your maker.”

“Strong talk, big man.”

Max laughed all the way to his car. Oh, he was going to get the crap beat out of him since Jonathan was definitely a better pool player, but he wasn’t going to make it easy. He was just tossing his dry cleaning in the backseat and closing the door to walk around to the driver side when he ran into a man standing there.

“You look happy.” The man was unthreatening, slight in built, and medium height with a nice smile. His reddish curls were blowing in the breeze. “It is good to see you really happy. I never thought that possible.”

Max hesitated with his hand on his car. “Do I know you?”

“Yes, you know me, or did.”

Max stared at the man for a moment. He did look familiar. “Aren’t you the owner of the UFO Center downtown? Um,…” The name escaped him. Max concentrated. He remembered reading about the eccentric millionaire with an enthusiasm for aliens. That in itself, made Max pause. Aliens. “Brody Davis, isn’t it?”

“Actually no.” The man smiled, and then shook his head. “But yes, too. My host is Brody Davis. Interesting man. He carries a lot of sad memories of the loss of his young daughter, Sydney. She died a few years back of cancer. Very sad. It was a defining moment in his life.”

“Your host?” Great. A wacko. Shit. Owner of the UFO Center, what did he expect. “Mr. Brody, can I help you or something? Maybe direct you to the local hospital?”

The man laughed charmingly and stepped back to allow Max to walk around to his driver’s side. “No, thank you…Max. I guess it is Max now? To me you will always be Zan…the King. My one-time friend.” The man moved his head to the side in a motion of acceptance. “Perhaps someday you would like to talk, but I can only hold this body for so long. It costs energy, and leaves the host with missing memories and the feeling they were abducted.”

Zan. Max stood at his driver’s door, hesitating. Zan. The name in his dream. His name. “Wait!” Max looked around, and frowned expecting Jonathan to exit the building for work any moment. “Wait, you said you wanted to talk to me?” The man nodded. Max made a quick decision. “Get in. I have to stop to drop off my dry cleaning. You have that long to convince me that there is anything I want to hear from you.”

Max indicated the passenger seat and waited until the man joined him before driving away. Zan. He knew Zan?

“I must say that I have been watching you, or had my people watching over you. The reports are astounding, Zan.” He saw Max flinch at the name. “Sorry, perhaps I should call you Max?”

Max hazarded a look at the man. “Who are you?”

“I’m Larek.”

~~~

Maria was helping Julia find something to wear to work. Everything Julia owned was gone, and she couldn’t wear Sean’s shirt everywhere. The guys had gone to check out the new addition and all the work that Stan’s crew had done over the weekend. They were off today. After working long hours while Michael and Maria had vacated the loft over the weekend, Stan had given his crews two days off to catch up, and so this week they would only work Wednesday thru Friday to make up for working last week straight. It gave the construction company time to get the delivery of special wood and flooring to complete the large family room and Michael’s play den.

“This is damn nice, Michael. Maria did a nice job!” Sean was admiring the room that would be Michael’s special room for poker games and watching sports with the boys. There was a nice pit built for watching a large screen TV, a wet bar with its own refrigerator and sink, a place for pool table, and a special poker table.

“I ordered a Foosball game too, and we picked up three arcade games from a place that was going out of business.”

“Damn. What kind of sofa and stuff is she putting in for you?”

“Besides the bar stool, the pit will have extra wide leather sofas, easy to clean up spills, extra large for comfort and taking a snooze.” Michael looked at the large space. Everything in the loft was oversized due to space, and this room was no exception. The construction crew had already created the lowered ceiling that would hide the overhead lights. They would be recessed and easy to control for more or less lighting in the space. It was be a nice dark room with a feel of an old English pub.

“The door?”

“Goes into the mini weight room and gym. Ordered a full weight machine, free weights, and a stair stepper for Maria. There’s going to be a heavy boxing bag hanging from the ceiling. Maria thinks it would be good for me to work out my daily aggressions…you know, calming myself by beating the crap out of the bag, thus supposedly keeping me from beating the crap out of the perps we put away. The works. Later it will open into a large hot tub and  Jacuzzi area with a steam room.”

“This loft is larger than most peoples’ houses. It is already bigger than Julia’s house.” Sean went back to the new open two story family room and up at the new bedrooms for the twins, being framed above Michael’s area and weight room. “I remember when I first bought the entire warehouse area for M. It was before Roswell started their urban renewal down here in the old industrial district. I knew that the city council had slated a building project to save the old structures and turn them into boutiques, restaurants, and stuff. It was just three blocks off, so it was a safe bet to buy here. I wanted M to have a place that was open, lots of space, and with this smaller annex building connected to the larger warehouse; it was perfect. The garage was big, bigger than most garages, and the area for a garden was a bonus.” Sean ran his hand along the woodwork already completed. The bricklayer had come and started setting the forms for the new fireplace in the family room. It was an extension to the old one in the living room. They were opening it up into one large fireplace viewable from both rooms.

“I never would’ve thought of a warehouse loft project. You were right. It’s perfect. I couldn’t see Maria in an ordinary house in a suburb division of Roswell.”

“It suited. She was still afraid of dark enclosed places. It took too many years to get her out of her hiding in the closet mode to ever let her go back. She’s still claustrophobic to some degrees. That’s why she’s so happy to open up all the space at once, whereas you like closed in tight spaces. The loft was perfect for Mr. B. and her until you moved in. She’s been trying to expand ever since, and for good reason. You’re large. You take up space.”

“The twins will take up more.” Michael swore under his breath. He had missed them. Missed the signs. To him, Maria was being excessive, but now he was rethinking his opinion. She was feeling crushed by the possibility of too many people in her space. “Maybe I should let them do the rest of the loft. Put in the hot tub area and the master suite with her new study. She’s already given me a bunch of new space and places for my stuff. Damn, she doesn’t even have a home office right now. It’s all in boxes in an the corner of the garage.”

Sean noticed power tools left by the construction crew from over the weekend. They had made an unholy amount of noise. Maria had been right about that. It took them two days to knock down the old wall between the lofts and put in new walls and wood trim along the doorway. It looked beautiful. Craftsmanship at its highest. Stan was an artist with wood. The new back wall was almost complete too. They had framed in an outside wall just under midway through the old loft, more like one third of the original loft was left to be renovated. It would one day be their new bedroom and Maria’s den. The bricklayer had started bricking in the wall, and it was only half done. Stan was right. It was going to be hard to pull down that wall later. A big mess into the family room.

“I don’t think so.” Sean looked at Michael. “It’s one thing to understand why she does things, but it’s another to encourage it. Maria has family now. Babies. Maybe that will help more than anything to clear up the old claustrophobia she’s been living with since she was a child. It won’t hurt her. It might help.” Sean picked up a power tool with a special power pack on it. “I can’t wait to see your reaction when you and she finally decide to increase the loft once more time and that new wall has to come down. Oh, the noise and mess will be incredible.”

“Shut up, Sean.” Michael came to stand next to Sean to look over the tool. Hmmm...

It was the noise that brought Maria and Julia out of the bedroom. Michael was racing around, and Maria’s eyes narrowed in suspicion at the small smirk on the side of his mouth. Sean’s bellowing and cursing echoed from the new addition.

“What is it? What’s going on?”

Michael looked up from where he was holding a towel, and dialing a number on the phone. He hid the towel behind his back, and actually looked a little guilty. “Umm, nothing. Not really.”

Sean’s curses belied that claim.

“Michael, what did you do?”

“What? It’s always my fault?” Michael cringed as more shouted obscenities came his way from Sean, assuring the world at large the whatever it was, was indeed his fault. “An accident. I couldn’t know that nail gun had such a touchy triggering mechanism…”

“Michael!”

“It’s just a little nail! That’s all. One. About sixteen inches, but just one.”

Maria shook her head. She knew it. Michael loved powerful high-pressure tools. He had nailed Sean with the nail gun.

Julia made a sound of distress and hurried to check out the damage. She ripped the towel from Michael’s hand, and gave him a lethal look. She had just had a nail in her shoulder not too long ago.

“Hey! It’s in the fleshy part….um, I wouldn’t pull it out immediately.” Michael turned to look at Maria who was staring at him. “Oh, c’mon! He’ll be okay. Nothing that pisses and moans that loud can really be hurt.”

~~~

“Larek.” Max asked after he came back from dropping off the dry cleaning. He had half expected his guest to be gone. A mirage. A dream. No. The man was still there.

“Yes. Larek.” He was playing with the controls for the radio. “This planet. It is so incredibly fun to explore. Do you know that it is like night to day from where we come from? Antar, and the other planets…the concept of play or recreation doesn’t really exist. There is not a great emphasis on culture. We have a history, a living one, but it is like battle lore handed down from generation to generation. The scientists concentrate on creating more interesting and powerful weapons. But this movie and entertainment thing. It is difficult to even find an equivalent translation to our culture. I spent three days once playing in a video arcade. It was fun!”

Max laughed despite himself. “Let me guess. Games involving lots of explosions, guns and people killing other people?”

“Absolutely. Exhilarating!” Larek looked at him and smirked. “How did you know?”

Max shrugged. “Michael lives for those games, and I’ve been known to become addicted.” Enough chitchat. “Why are you here? Why are you watching me?”

“Straight to the point. I like that. No games,” Larek smiled. “It was time. I sent people to keep an eye, to find the Granilith, but there is a problem. No one can locate it, and none of you Royals seem to know where it is or even that it exists.”

“Granilith?”

Larek sighed. “As I suspected. The Commander seems to know more. Are you not interested or is he keeping things from you?”

Max frowned at the idea that Michael would lie to him, even by omission. “Perhaps you don’t know Michael. Or perhaps he isn’t the man you once knew. I know about the Dupes. I know there are ‘Walkers’, which I am assuming you are. Skins which wear these husks, and a Shapeshifter that was supposed to be our protector. But this Granilith….this is something I don’t know anything about.” Max looked at the man. “If Michael knows more, then fine. He’ll tell me when he can, or when he understands what it means. I trust him with my life. He would never do anything to betray me or put me in danger.”

“Good that you trust him so much.” Larek sat back. “Perhaps you should. He had an unshakeable loyalty to you in the last life.” Larek actually laughed. “Actually that is not so true. He was loyal to his armies, and for that purpose, he was loyal to you. He did not care for your throne because he had his own.” Larek looked at Max again. “He lived for the battle, to campaign. To fight. It was in his blood. In his soul. The power in his makeup, the matrix, was so strong that it was undeniable. Your powers were much more passive in some ways, but not Rath’s. His were like the very nuclear fission of a star, barely contained. His mixed genetics created that. Your father’s people mixed with his mother’s. Loyalty was easy for him as long as the purpose was his own. You never had the chance to go against him. He never had reason to go against you.” Larek folded his hands. “Except when you ordered him to marry Vilandra. That was a mistake. It made him suddenly question your ability to rule. It made the supporters of Rath as both the King of Antar and the King of his mother’s planet stronger, more determined in their pursuit of taking your throne.”

“We are no longer those people. Earth is not our planet to rule. That life has passed away. Tell me why anything that involves your planet or this Antar has anything to do with me now? Michael said that he was told that we can’t even live there.”

“That is true. Humans could live on Antar, for a short period of time. Perhaps even their entire lifetime, but it would be difficult. The air would be too heavy, and it would be high in sulfurs and other gases that are not common to what you choose to breathe. A human would be very sick on Antar, barely alive. Weak. Much like we find the atmosphere of Earth to be too light. We can’t breathe and we literally suffocate.”

Max sighed heavily. “Then why bother us? Why bring us back? Why care that we survive or not? I can tell you that I never plan or desire to return to Antar. I don’t want to be their King. I have no intention to try for that throne again. That world is no longer mine. I was born on Earth, and here I plan to live. This is my life. I like it. I love it. Actually I was happy to never know the truth.”

“Perhaps.” Larek didn’t like it either. Given the choice he would have left the Royals oblivious forever. Their reign among the home planets had ended long ago with their deaths. “But Destiny has a way of coming around. The thing is that history is written on our planets. The Granilith, this power source we all seek, it is here. On Earth. It is in the possession of the Royals. Of you.”

“No, it isn’t. We don’t know what it is, or where it is. There has to be a mistake.”

“There is no mistake.” Larek sighed, and then turned in the seat to completely look at Max. “I was your friend. Your best friend. I was there when you ascended to the throne after your father died. I was there when you met the Queen, and you married. I was the best man at your joining ceremony. I knew about your love, and your ambitions.” Larek’s voice lowered. “I also supported your brother to the throne.”

Max looked at the man sharply. “You what? You said you were my best friend!”

“I was. But you, Max…you as Zan, were a hard vain man. Your pride, your quest for power, was your downfall. You suspected that you were one of the much waited-for Royal Four, and to you, that meant that you would rule in that life, and in the next. You wanted that immortality, because with it came control of the Granilith. I supported you all my life, and you enslaved and abused my friendship and my people. I loved you like a brother, but when you overstepped the bounds of friendship and turned into some megalomaniac, I had to save my people. It is what a King does, Max. It is his obligation to his world and his people. Nothing before his duty. Not his friendships, and not his heart, and certainly not his petty interest and desires.”

“Why Rath? Why not Kivar?” Max hated it. He hated learning about his past. He didn’t like who he had been, but he could learn to go on since he was no longer that man, nor did he ever want to be again.

Larek laughed. “So you do know some or remember a little.” He shook his head. “Kivar. It was a toss up over who was worse. You or him. Both knew only your own desires and wants. Since Kivar took control, nothing has changed. It has simply worsened. It has gone exactly the way we predicted it would go if you had remained King.” Larek laughed bitterly. “Our natures are our downfall. We knew enough to know we needed to curb our affinity to follow our desires blindly, but getting people to do that has been hard. We need a change, an evolution. A strong King who can take us to a Golden Age beyond our warlike natures.”

“Me?”

“No, Max. Your time has passed.” Larek looked out the window, and he reached for the door. “I thought I needed to warn you. A new name has appeared in the Book of Ascension in the Hall of Kings. For Antar, the destined King’s name appeared. He will be one born of mixed birth, able to survive on all the worlds of his ancestors, unlike any other King born. His birth is near. It has activated a furor in the five worlds, and made Kivar even bloodier in his tyranny. The people…they are demanding their real King, not Kivar.” Larek got out of the car and looked in at Max. “The new King is Zan. Your son. He who controls him, controls our worlds.”

~~~

“Is that all he said?”

Max nodded as he poured another cup of coffee. “This is bad, Michael. This damn Granilith. I don’t get it. Now my son…Zan? He’s destined to bring those five worlds to peace, to bring in a new Golden Age. How can this be? I want my son! No damn alien is taking him to a planet I can’t even live on, to rule a group of planets that I don’t even remember. He’s human! Like both Tess and me.” Max tossed his hands in wild disarray, his irritation making him erratic in his motions. “This is insanity. Who the fucking crappy dickless wonder was I to want this, to plan for it? God, I hate my old self! If I knew me, I would’ve overthrown the bastard, too.” Max pointed at Michael. “I can’t believe my old self is my greatest enemy, and this….Destiny...is destroying my life…threatening my child.”

“Calm down, Max. No one is taking your kid.” Michael paced the room. “I need to talk to Alex’s source, one of these old Rath loyalists. If he damn well worships me, then he can also give me some fucking facts! Granilith. Granilith. Shmanilith! I am sick of this piece of alien junk! Whatever it has to do with us or anything is beyond me, but we’ll figure it out.” Michael pushed his hands into his pocket. “All these damn aliens need to take themselves home. They’ve got their own worlds. Time for them sink or swim.”

“This Larek said you know more than you’re telling me, Michael. Is that true?”

Michael shrugged. “Some things maybe. Mostly stuff involving Isabel.” Michael sat on the end of a table. “I don’t have the full pieces or the complete picture, but don’t worry, Max, when I do, I’ll tell you.”

Max drank from his coffee thoughtfully. “Vilandra. What you told me so far, Michael….I don’t like.” Max looked out the glass windows into the bullpen from the breakroom. “I dreamt about myself, you and her. It didn’t make too much sense, but what does isn’t something I can live with or care to repeat. I’m afraid for her.”

Michael scratched his brow. “I know. Alex is worried too. It seems that so much of the stuff Isabel was into for those five years is very much like this Vilandra person. He’s afraid that she’ll feel it too much, that it’ll hurt her.”

Max ran his hands through his hair. “I can’t do this again, Michael. Isabel…she’s….I love her more than my own life. My sister. I don’t know what I was in my last life, or what my relationship was with her, but I know her now. I can’t lose my sister again, Michael.” Max looked at Michael. “Our sister.” Max said acknowledging their relationship and connection.

Michael nodded. Their sister. He had a brother and a sister. One time in this life, all he had needed was Mikey Guerin. It was all he wanted. But from the moment he met Isabel and Max, he knew that there was a connection, that they belonged together. He had felt it with Tess, too. To a much smaller extent, but he felt it. An aching familiarity.

“We won’t. Alex and I, we’re keeping a careful eye on her.”

Max stood up and paced the room. “Jesus! Am I doing it again? Am I letting my own life overwhelm me so much that it distracts me from what’s important? I’ve hardly spent any time with Isabel lately, not since she moved out. Sure, I go over and spend time at the loft with her and Liz, but it’s not like before. Now my life is full of Jonathan, and work. I….” Max looked at Michael in despair. “Is this what happened before? I became so self-involved, that I didn’t pay attention, and…”

“Max, stop it! Stop second guessing yourself. Go with your instincts. Follow them. I trust you. I know you can do this, that you’ll make the right decision.” Michael smiled suddenly. “Plus if you don’t, there’s always a group of whacked-out aliens trying to follow me. Poor bastards. If they follow me, the most they’ll get is high cholesterol and potential heart disease.”

Max laughed, but he was suddenly serious. “You want my throne, brother? You want to rule?”

Michael slapped his partner on the shoulder hard and led him out of the breakroom. “Hell no! Maria is buying me a large screen TV. Keep your damn throne, Your Majesty. Bet those damn Antarians don’t even have cable.”

“Or Krispy Cremes.”

“Advanced race, my ass.” Michael snorted. “They seriously need to rethink their priorities.”

~~~

“Now don’t give me that! I told you, it’s Julia’s decision. If she thinks Ms. Fluffy is better off at her mother’s house, then that is that.” Maria listened to Mr. Booboo make a few more insistent meows. “Well, you should have thought of that before you two woke up the entire neighborhood with all that racket! It was four in the blessed morning!”

The cat swished his tail angrily and paced in tight circles, not in the least bit pleased. He would suddenly spy something out of the corner of his eye, stop, lick furiously, then went right back to yowling at Maria.

“I’ll tell you what, you go outside, rethink your options, and we’ll discuss this later.” Maria opened the front door to the loft. “I’ll try to talk Julia into visiting privileges and kitty sleepovers, okay? But you’re going to have to cooperate too, buddy.”

Mr. Booboo stalked outside and sat on the welcome mat of his home to survey his domain, idly wondering to himself where that pesky tarantula had gotten to. They needed to discuss boundaries and rights of passage. Carefully, he kept his large cat behind pointed toward Maria, as his tail swished unhappily. Visitation rights? Heh. Well, that was a start.

Maria laughed softly and shut the door to the loft.

Mr. B was so intent on his grooming that at first he didn’t notice his other pet returning home. The familiar walk. The figure tall, with a purposeful stride. Michael. Stopping his cleaning, he lazily stood up and stretched, starting to regale his other pet of his plight, the injustice and offense of it all, when suddenly his nose flared. The fur stood up on the back of the black, sometimes calico, feline’s back, and Mr. Booboo hissed. His teeth were exposed as he drew back in a warning to the man to step back, as his back arched and he reared up towards the front door of the loft. The man ignored him, and in a flash, Mr. Booboo hurled himself at the man in a flying leap, his teeth and back claws finding a mark in soft skin and a cheek.

Maria was getting ready to go upstairs and collect the dirty laundry from the weekend that needed to be sent out. The ruckus and noise from Mr. Boo was hard to ignore or dismiss. Opening the door, she stood frozen at the sight of her cat mauling Michael.

“Boo! Nooooooo!”

The cat suddenly jumped to the ground and shot into the loft as Maria stepped back. He positioned himself threateningly between Michael and Maria, his angry cries a loud wail as his back remained arched, and his hair stood on end.

“Michael! Oh God...!” Maria turned to find something…anything to staunch the blood dripping from Michael’s shredded cheek. She spied the towel that they had used earlier on Sean. “Jesus, Boo, what the hell has gotten into you? I swear, if this is about your diet, you aren’t doing yourself any favors!”

Maria turned to find Michael in the loft, his hand covering the wound on his face, and the angry cat still prancing between them, back arched as he spit at Michael and walked in a strange sideways step. Maria took a step towards Michael, and their eyes met…

Maria’s eyes lids drooped slightly, winked almost in a half drunk pose as they suddenly felt too heavy to keep open. She stood there wavering, as Michael stepped towards her, savagely kicking the cat out of his way, his hand reaching toward her pregnant stomach. Maria stepped back as her hands clenched at her sides, her hair suddenly blown back, almost like she was in a wind tunnel. She was breathing hard as her eyes dilated and sweat beaded at the top of her lip and running down from her forehead as she was suddenly covered in perspiration  while feeling chilled. Shaking her head, she lifted a hand towards Michael, warning him off.

He could feel the power gathering in her small body. He could taste it like it was an advancing electrical storm, powerful, dark and intense. Impossible. This was impossible! How could this human have more power in her small body than he had in his? His hand reached out to touch the babies. Touch them! Kill them in her stomach! End this pain….now! Stop this destiny forever!

“No! Michael……no!” Maria couldn’t stop herself. She screamed in horror at the moment she felt the release of power, almost like a stream of intense light, hurling Michael backwards, hard into the wall next to the open door. He struck it with a loud thud and was suspended against the wall for moments, until his still form slid to the ground in a heap. His chest was smoking from a blackened mark where the stream of energy had hit him.

Maria stumbled and then collapsed to the ground as the energy slowly released, leaving her spent. It was Mr. Boo licking her face with his rough tongue that brought her back to consciousness. Rolling to her side, she looked over at the still figure on the floor in a heap. Michael? No! Scrambling to him, she looked down in the face of her dead husband.

She had just killed Michael.

~~~

“Let’s go find Parker.” Michael slammed his folder down on his desk and ignored the look of hatred Sean was shooting him from his pigsty of a desk. What the hell was his problem? He had taken Sean to the Emergency Room, hadn’t he? They removed the nail from his hand, didn’t they? It was hardly Michael’s fault, not that anyone would listen to him. No. Did he tell Sean to put his hand over where the nails came out? No. Did he know that the trigger was so sensitive to touch? No. Obviously someone was playing with something they had no business touching….and that someone was Sean. Proof positive since he was the one with a damn nail in his hand. Geez, painful much? Sean should look on it as an early Christmas present or something. Well maybe the tetanus shot in the ass was a tad bit over the edge, but hey, again, so not his fault.

“The test?” Michael nodded at Max’s question. He needed it confirmed that the DNA was his Dupe’s. Max grabbed the file on the numerous rape cases and murders and pushed it at Michael slapping him in his stomach. They were in the elevator, passing the file back and forth.

“You take the file, Max.”

“No. I’ve seen the file, Michael. You carry it.” Michael sighed. Dammit. Now he had to carry everything. Bad day. Bad morning. Bad afternoon too. His luck, Parker would be on one of her mysterious breaks…making the coffee shop around the corner boost their quarterly profit margins.

“Parker!”

Liz looked up from her microscope and frowned at Michael as he came into the lab. “Oh, he bellows! Be still my heart.” Liz smiled at Max when he laughed at her comment. “Hey, Max. Keeping bad company, I see.”

“Lizzie, it’s not my fault. I take him out to the forest, try to drop him off far from civilization, and damn if he doesn’t beat me home.” Liz snickered at Max as Michael glared at one of the lab technicians. “Hear you went camping this weekend.”

“We did. Alex accidentally dumped Isabel in the lake. It was a loud moment or two. Eddie taught me how to fish on a loose slip line. I caught four lake perch. Very tasty.”

“That’s great, Parker. We’re happy for you. You can become a fisherman if your day job falls through.” Michael lowered his voice. “The results?”

Liz nodded discreetly, but her eyes darted over to two lab technicians in the corner watching them carefully. “Bite me, Guerin…you Krispy Crème-munching toad.” Liz looked at Max and smiled as their eyes met and they shared a moment of amusement at Michael’s bellyaching. “Max, you want a cup of coffee?” Max nodded and laughed as Liz led them out of the lab towards her offices. Michael followed, complaining that no one ever offered him coffee.

After Liz shut her office door, Michael suddenly stopped bitching. “Liz?”

“Sorry, Michael. It was a match.” Michael swore and looked out Parker’s window. “This will be a problem. If you bring him in, the FBI will take him. You could….take care of him personally,” Liz made a gesture indicating Michael’s powers, “but they’ll still be looking for him in all the clubs and the streets. Weeks of manpower expended for a man they’ll never catch.”

Michael rubbed a hand across his mouth. It was suddenly wet with sweat. He felt sick to his stomach, clenched, and afraid. For a second, the room seemed to swim before his eyes as it was suddenly too bright, then too dark. Leaning heavily against Parker’s desk, Max caught him before he fell over.

“Michael!” Max looked at a quiet Liz staring at them in alarm. “Liz, get me some water! Quick.” Max turned to Michael as Liz left her office, “Michael?”

Michael shook his head to clear it. “I’m okay.” His eyes were concentrating on the floor. The file. He dropped the file. On the floor at his feet were pictures. Lots of pictures of his Dupe’s victims. Michael’s forehead creased in a frown that moved over his entire face. “Max, the victims…” Max followed Michael’s hand. “They all look something like Maria.”

The two men shared a look, and they were both running towards the door at the same time, running straight into Liz. “What? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing! Look, Liz could you see Sean gets that file back? Thanks!” Max was quick to catch up to Michael who didn’t bother to stop.

This felt normal. The rush to the loft. A need to get to Maria. This time, Michael was driving.

“That thing in the office….was it Maria?”

“Yes,” Michael said curtly. He increased the speed. His cell phone rang. Reaching for it, he kept up the speed, heedless of driving one-handed, as Max quickly grasped the door of the car to keep upright.

“Michael?”

Michael let up on the gas pedal at the sound of Maria’s voice. “Maria…God, I’m on my way…”

Maria was crying uncontrollably. Her voice kept breaking and she developed hiccups as she tried to string coherent words into complete sentences. “I’m sorry! I…oh god, I didn’t know. It happened, and….I don’t know…..I don’t know! It just happened. He….you....it was trying to kill the babies, and…..”

“Kill the babies? Maria…!” Michael’s voice rose and Max looked at him in concern as his hand went to the steering wheel to right the car before they got into an accident.

“I killed you! Oh God help me, Michael….I killed you!”

~~~

When Michael burst through the open loft door, his eyes immediately found her. She was on the floor huddled next to the kitchen bar with a cell phone in her hands, hugging her knees and staring at the body on the floor next to the door. Mr. Boo was sitting next to her, furiously grooming himself. Michael ignored the body and went to Maria. He had to force her to look up at him.

She searched his face and their eyes met, and suddenly she was in his arms hugging him tight and crying uncontrollably.

“Shh. It’s okay. Baby, it’s okay.” Michael quickly picked up Maria and took her upstairs away from the body. Max watched for a few moments, and then he looked down at the body on the floor. Closing the door, he quickly called in the security override to alert the security company for a door left open too long. Damn. He really did look exactly like Michael. Exact, but for the spiral on Michael’s chest which was missing here. He was Michael. And, he was dead.

Max squatted down next to the body of Rath and touched it. Cold. Dead.

It was a while before Michael came down the stairs. Maria was asleep. He had calmed her down and she told him what happened. He couldn’t settle his stomach. One thing he knew without question was that his Dupe had come to kill his children and take Maria. Take her where, he didn’t know. But of that much he was sure. He had felt the whole scene in a flash, the moment he stepped into the loft. More than that, he had actually sensed Rath’s dying thoughts.

Max stood back as Michael crouched down next to his Dupe. He touched him and Max watched as Michael’s body seemed to jolt from the vision. He suddenly sat back, tiredly.

“She was right.”

“What? Michael, what did you see?”

Michael rubbed his face his eyes never leaving Rath’s still body. “She knew he came to kill the babies. Everyone wants to protect them, but not him. He wanted them dead. If they died it would end everything. His existence. His pain.” Michael looked at his partner. “He was in so much pain, Max.” He looked at the body again. “His last thought was for Maria. He thought, ‘Thank you’ when she ended his life. He was in love with her. From the moment he saw her, he knew that only she would be able to deliver him to peace.”

“Jesus!” Max crouched next to Michael with his hand on his shoulder.

~~~

They needed to wait until it was after dark before they could take care of the body. Sean and Kyle were quiet, as Michael and Max talked about how to alter a John Doe to resemble Rath, and to alter his body to match the genetics collected to take the FBI off their trail. They had three possibilities. One was a man shot by police in an armed robbery. His body was still waiting for autopsy. If they changed him immediately, once the lab reports were run, the FBI would be alerted, and they could close their murder/rapist case.

“First we need to take care of this body.” They had loaded Rath into Michael’s Mustang in case Julia came back from the office. She was working late, and Sean was picking her up after midnight.

“I’m coming too.”

They looked up the stairs at Maria. She was silently descending the stairs. Michael shook his head. “No. We’ll take care of this.”

“I’m coming too, and that is final.”

“Maria…”

“I killed him.” Maria looked away from the others. “I don’t care what he was. I don’t care! He might have meant to harm my children, and done unspeakable things…that doesn’t matter anymore.”

Michael frowned.

“He is you. I looked at him, and he was you.”

“He’s not me, Maria. He’s my Dupe.”

“He felt like you. Looked like you. Walked like you. I sensed his presence like I sense yours too. The way you hold yourself at attention, strained…ready to respond. You loosen up after you’ve been home a little while, but you walk in the door that way every day.” Maria turned, eyes still red from crying. “He…he was you, Michael. Good or bad. There is something of him that lived in you, and I killed that today. Don’t you understand? Can’t you understand? I don’t care about that. I love you….all of you, even the dark parts….the parts you share with him.  I love you, so in some ways, I must have loved him too. I’ll never know. But I do know that I can’t stand the thought of you dying alone, and I can’t stand the thought of someone not mourning him too.” Maria looked down at her feet. “I’m going.”

“How did you know he wasn’t me?” Michael asked. He hadn’t asked before, but suddenly it was important to him.

“I didn’t. Not at first. Mr. Boo did. I was too busy being horrified that Mr. Boo was attacking you. He bit you on your face. I was frantic! I couldn’t get him to stop mauling you! Then I turned. I looked in his eyes. They were your eyes…but not your eyes. They were dead. They lacked that spark I recognize in you. They lacked you. The twins sensed my confusion, and they seemed to reach out for you…immediately not feeling you, they responded. I couldn’t control them or their rush of power. I warned him off, but he still came on, kicking Mr. Boo so hard, who was just trying to defend me. I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t stop any of it!”

Michael took her by her shoulders and shook her. “Don’t. He wasn’t unhappy with the outcome, Maria. He didn’t want to hurt you…not you. Believe it or not, he was relieved that it ended this way.” Michael hugged her tightly and then let her go. He walked into the kitchen and opened up the refrigerator. They all watched as Michael scooped up some expensive foie gras into a dish and added chopped up turkey breast.

“What are you doing?” Maria asked.

Michael took the dish to the black cat who was lying on the ottoman lamenting his heroic deeds and the battle scars he had earned. “Feeding the hero. He can have anything he wants. No more diet. If he’s happy and comfortable being fat, well that’s good enough for me. He’s earned it.” Michael watched as Mr. Boo attacked the expensive liver treat and his favorite turkey breasts with only slightly less gusto than he had attacked Rath. Stroking the cat who had stood between his world and a serial rapist and murderer, Michael smiled. This cat had just guaranteed himself a full life of luxury. Not that he didn't have that already, but it was a done deal now.

~~~