A Lesson in Sacrifice
Part 4
Dr. Beeks had tried for a while to make conversation with the Visitor, but when it became obvious that she wouldn't get more than monosyllabic answers from the young man, she decided to fill out some paperwork instead. About 15 minutes went by before anyone said anything.
"The Admiral is back," Ziggy said, just as the door to the Waiting Room opened.
Max sat up a little straighter. A man walked in. Max looked at him curiously. He was shorter than he had expected. He was wearing a bright green shirt with little yellow stars all over it. His pants were a darker shade of green, and the star pattern was repeated on his suspenders. He was smoking a cigar.
"You're the Admiral?" Max said in disbelief.
"Retired, U.S. Navy," Al said, taking the cigar out of his mouth and putting it in an ashtray, after catching a look from Dr. Beeks.
Dr. Beeks got up to leave. "I'll be right outside if you need me, Admiral," she said. "Or you, Max," she added.
"Thank you, Verbeena," Al said. He took the seat that was now vacant.
"So, Max. You wanted to talk to me?" he said, trying to sound casual. The boy appeared calm enough but Al could tell that he was a time-bomb just about ready to explode. Before Max could say anything, Al decided to cut to the chase. No point in torturing the kid.
"Liz is fine. She's safe."
"Where is she?"
The Admiral looked at an object he was holding. To Max, it looked like a calculator.
"US Government class, West Roswell High School."
That made sense. It was Liz's first class today. But something bothered Max.
"She's in school?" he asked hesitantly.
"You mean, she's not upset that you aren't?" Al gave him asmile that faded when he saw the hurt in Max's eyes. "She doesn't know you're missing."
That comforted Max for only about half a second. How could the others not tell Liz he was missing? How could they not KNOW he was missing?
"How...?"
"It's a very long story, Max, and you'll probably have some questions I can't answer. But would it be enough if I asked you to trust me that no harm will come to you or your friends?"
Max shook his head.
"Yeah, I didn't think so..." Al sighed. "But try to trust me for now. Liz is safe. I promise."
Max wanted to believe him so badly. Like he had with the doctor, he felt like he could trust the Admiral. He didn't want to, but he felt that somehow, it would be okay. Still, there was no way in hell he would let the Admiral know that.
"Is this a military operation?" Max asked.
"No, it's not. These facilities are government-funded, but the military has nothing to do with it."
"But you're military."
"I was. Retired, I thought I had mentioned that. I was an astronaut."
"You were?"
"Yeah. Apollo 8. Long before your time." Al paused for a moment. "Do you believe in aliens?"
Max's face was blank when he answered with a question of his own. "Why?"
"A lot of the visitors who come here think that they've been abducted by aliens. If I had a dime every time I've been asked "take me to your leader", I'd be a very rich man," Al snickered.
"Is that what happened to me?"
"No. We're not aliens. I've actually never met one. Not even when I was in space."
Max decided to let that one go. He ran a hand through his hair. Someone else's hand.
"Where is... my body?" he asked, not looking directly at the Admiral. He felt like such an idiot.
"What do you mean?"
Max extended an arm in front of him. "This is not my hand."
"Sure, it is," Al said. He seemed to ponder the statement for a little while. "You mean you don't see yourself as you usually do?"
Max shook his head, feeling more foolish by the minute.
"That's odd," Al said. He hoped he wasn't being too bad an actor. He made a show of retrieving Max's chart from the table where Dr. Beeks had left it and looked through it. "Oh," he said. "They gave you Polynedium," he stated, as if that explained everything. Al was hoping Max wouldn't ask to look at his chart. He knew he shouldn't be making up words like that.
"And that resulted in..." Max started to ask.
"Your self-perception being distorted. It should clear up in a little while. I see you as you, you know," Al added.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. You could use a haircut, son."
Max didn't believe the Admiral, but right now, he had too much on his mind to create new problems when solutions, no matter how unbelievable, were presented to him.
"Are you hungry?" the Admiral asked him suddenly.
Max heard his stomach growl. "I guess so," he replied.
"How does apple pie sound?"
"Good," Max said. And it did, sort of. 'Hopefully, it'll mix well with the Polynedium,' he thought sarcastically.
******
The rest of Sam's day went pretty well. He had always loved school. He felt more at home in a classroom than anywhere else, except maybe a lab. His last class of the day was Trig.
He arrived just as the bell was ringing and took the last available seat. Turning to his left, he saw that Liz was a couple of desks over. He smiled at her. She looked away.
Okay. The serenade probably hadn't been a good idea. After the bell rang 45 minutes later, he caught up to her in the hallway.
"Liz! Wait!"
"Oh, Max, hi..." she said, looking everywhere but at him.
"How--"
"Look, I have to go," she interrupted him. "Someone came a long way to see me, and I have to talk to him."
"Oh. Okay," he answered. What was he supposed to do?
Liz gave him a funny look when it became obvious he was not going to insist. "I'll see you later," she said, before walking away.
"Yeah..." Sam answered lamely. He had a feeling that encounter would have been very different had Max actually been there. Noticing that the hallway was now nearly empty, he made his way to the parking lot in time to see the Jeep drive away.
"Great," he muttered. Patience didn't seem to be Isabel's main quality. Walking would probably do him some good anyway. It always helped clear his head. Making sense of this leap had been impossible so far.
First the flowers, then the radio. The Granilith. The pods. Michael. Liz. Tess. That one was actually easy: jealous ex-girlfriend, obviously. Every time he leaped he always felt like he had caught the movie halfway through, but this time was even worse, if possible. He was in over his head. And just where was Al?
As it turned out, Al was waiting for him in Max's room. "How long have you been there?" Sam hissed, closing the door behind him.
"Just got here. It's good to see you too," Al replied. He was looking at Sam's reflection in the mirror. Max stared back.
"Sorry," Sam said. "I feel there's something big we're missing on this Leap."
"I know. So do I, and I don't like it."
"Why am I here, Al?"
"Well, Ziggy hasn't come up with anything really solid yet," Al said, hitting the handlink. It shrieked back at him.
"What are the chances I'm here to somehow mend the relationship between Max and Michael?"
Al gave him a questioning look before turning to the handlink. "73%. That's pretty good odds." The handlink beeped and Al went on reading. "Michael Guerin, a minor recently emancipated from his foster father, Hank Whitmore, who disappeared and haven't been heard from since last February. Michael was..."
Al's voice trailed off and he looked at Sam.
"Michael was what?"
"Found wandering in the desert in 1989," Al finished. "Some coincidence."
Sam walked quickly to Max's desk and picked up a map he had seen the night before. He unfolded it on the bed and pointed the rock formation to Al.
"They were found somewhere around there?"
Al checked the location on the map against the information Ziggy was feeding him through the handlink. "Yes. Max and Isabel were found on that little road here. Michael was found the next day. In this area here." Al waved to another spot on the map that Max had circled. The words "Pohlman's Ranch?" were written in blue ink.
Sam scratched his head and turned to Al. "Anybody else found around the same time? A little girl named Tess?"
Al raised an eyebrow but said nothing. After reading the information Ziggy was providing him, he shook his head. "No. No one else. Why?"
"There are four pods," Sam whispered.
"What?!"
Sam explained as best as he could the events that had taken place that morning, from the radio to Tess storming out, and his growing suspicion that the four teens just may be what came out of the pods, eleven years ago.
"Now, that's just ridiculous!"
"Yeah? Well how else do you explain everything?"
Ziggy beeped.
"I don't know, but kids don't hatch from pods, Sam."
Ziggy squealed.
"Okay, then. What came out of those pods?"
"I don't know! Giant prehistoric birds?"
Sam just glared.
Ziggy shrieked.
"What the hell do you want now?" Al yelled at the ceiling. He looked down at the handlink. "Michael also has an FBI file," he said. "And Ziggy has finally been able to access them."
"And?" Sam said. He noticed his hands were very cold.
Al looked up at him in disbelief. "The FBI has been investigating these kids for about a year now. They have evidence that lead them to believe that Max Evans, his sister Isabel and their friend Michael Guerin might be... extra-terrestrial beings. Sam, they think the kids are aliens."
****
At the same time, another part of Ziggy's considerable memory was working on another aspect of the problem. She computed the newly found data, over and over again. She couldn't comprehend the results. Only one thing was certain. Liz Parker was the key.
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