posted on 11-May-2002 12:48:26 AM
runner-up


FINALLY! As Jed Clampet would say, "Wheeeee-doggie!" *bounce* Without further ado, this is for all of you who still care about this fic. Thank you so much for your kind support and patience!

Now this next part is a li'l short but at least it's getting me back 'into the mix' of writing this thing. Keep sending the vibes!

Syn and Zan: the Beginning - "a dupe jones" parts one to nineteen




part twenty


“Cristoff!…Yo, Cristoff, you’re not hearing me. My best friend needs me right now, cuz our other best friend (whose band you just joined!) is seriously ill, so calling you back wasn’t a priority. I mean, you and I just came from the hospital, so what is – ?….Are you kidding me? That’s not my problem. That’s….What?!…Sh*t, dude, you’re over with!” Lucia slammed down the phone, her face squished up in disgust. “What a freakin’ *sshole!” Blowing out a hard breath and turning to stare idly at the tube, she drummed her long blue nails on the counter, impatiently waiting for the popcorn to pop.

<<…Violence struck twice tonight in the Greenwich Village area. Right outside Boone’s Lounge at 13 Calfrey Street a man was found unconscious. An unknown assailant had torn his right eye out. Police have no further information…And a shocking occurrence in St. Vincent’s Hospital – Twenty-nine year old Thomas Hanson Dawdek was found in his hospital room on the third floor dismembered and mutilated beyond all recognition. Police said that patients and staff heard strange noises and screams coming from the room but they were unable to open the door. The lock had been somehow melted and fused. A welder was brought in to cut into it. An officer who wishes to remain anonymous has stated quote, “In all my thirty years on the force I’ve never seen anything like what we found in that room…>>

Shivering, Lucia shook her head. What was the world coming to? She quickly switched the tube off and practically threw the popcorn in a bowl before rushing upstairs. Everything was just getting too unstable and ugly all of a sudden.

“Whew! Those steps. I need exercise, Syn. Here’s the—“ Her speech was cut short by the sight of Syn lying on the floor in a fetal position, shaking violently. She rushed over to her. “Omig*d! Syn, what’s wrong?!”

Syn raised her chin, eyes rolled back, her face a mask of pain. Her mouth moved but only an incoherent hissing came out as she groped her chest as if trying to tear something away.

Panicking, Lucia reached out to pull her up but the moment she touched her Lucia cried out.

Syn’s skin was hot like fire!

***** ***** *****

Within his soul Zan hazily watched the sea of dull red getting closer. He couldn’t retreat anymore and couldn’t think, couldn’t move…couldn’t…nightmare stuck on his back lonnie she lonnie she lonnie she…deshamos trying to penetrate his brain push back stab him stab that mind r*pin’ ass stab him stab he’s gone yeah b*tch he’s gone!…the red sea was coming he couldn’t retreat anymore red sea red sea sea see see syn sweet syn’s black hair…but lonnie she lonnie she had no heart no loyalty dead thing…syn she syn she smiling black hair sweet she came she came towards him smiling she black hair turning red black hair red hair red flames red flames all around him red burning!…can’t hold it back no more no more burning!…and guttural screams in his head…his guttural screams…blowing …up…his…head…

***** ***** *****

“Sh*t, I’m calling 911!

But Syn grabbed her arm, laboring to gulp air, to speak. “No, Lucia! I’ll…be…alright! Just help me…up!”

When they finally got her into a sitting position, Syn’s breathing began to normalize.

“Syn, what is it?!”

“I – I don’t know! Something’s wrong with him. Something’s…hurting him!”

“j*s*s. Who?!”

“Zan! It’s…Zan. I can feel him. He’s hurting. Oh g*d – !”

Completely unnerved, Lucia helped her up on the bed. “Y’all so connected that if he’s hurt, you’re hurt? I mean, that’s messed up! He’s an alien! Anything could be happening to him and you feel it! This is a frickin’ nightmare! Can any of this sh*t really be happening?”

With tears streaming down her face, Syn just closed her eyes, shaking her head back and forth.

Lucia protectively put her arms around her and said with a quiet tremor, “Okay. What do we do?”

Syn kept rubbing her chest, her face etched with grief, her voice hoarse. “I have to find him, Lucia. Just like he found me, I have to find him.”

***** ***** *****

Lonnie was pacing back and forth erratically near the river’s edge in Riverside Park waiting for Rath. Thoughts were racing through her head. It wasn’t safe to have Zan’s body just lying here but she wanted Rath to see and understand that she was in charge. He had to see that she was Da Queen now, the top dog. With difficulty she slowed her pace. So okay maybe Deshamos did have a little info she’d been able to use. She wished the drugs she ingested at that party would wear off. She must have shot up enough to OD cuz she wasn’t quite lucid. All of a sudden Rath rushed up on her and she whipped around, just missing his head with a blast from her hand. He turned purple with alarm.

“Are you f*cking crazy?!” Lonnie looked at her hand, perplexed and Rath stepped ominously towards her. “I asked you: are you f*cking crazy?!”

She smiled. “I’m the leader now. I’m in charge. Your boy Zan here is dead.”

Rath looked down at the figure she was pointing to and his face wrinkled in disgust. “Stop playing, yo. What the h*ll’s that? What are you doing out here, Lonnie, and why did you call me here at five in the morning?” He was pissed that when he got to Bloomie’s people were lurking around and he couldn’t get to the orb. It was a b*tch ‘n’ a half for real! So he went back to the pod crib unmindful of Korn’s warning. He wasn’t going to hide while opportunities came and went.

Lonnie wasn’t smiling anymore. “From now on call me Vilondra. ‘Lonnie’ is some gutter chick coming from nowhere and going nowhere. This is a new frickin day. I set Zan on fire and killed him. This is what’s left of him. I’m tossing him in the river, then you’re gonna get us a car – a nice one this time, yo – and we’re going to Roswell, New Mexico to pick up Zan’s clueless dupe. We’ll use him to get off this planet and into the real mix.”

“Ho-ho-ho-hold it!” Rath was staring at the unrecognizable form on the ground, feeling a weird sense of loss. Plus, Lonnie was acting more nuts than usual.

She tapped a booted foot impatiently. “What’s your problem? Zan was slow to move and arrogant about it. You been b*tchin’ and b*tchin’ about doing something about him. Well…this is it.”

Rath stood over the charred form. “I ain’t mean this! Sh*t, Lonnie, Zan’s your g*dd*mn brother! I mean…what the f*ck?!”

Lonnie turned him around to face her. “Whatever. We’re all hybrids. We’re dead. We ain’t even really who we are, so f*ck it. I wanna be on top and now I am. You can come along for the ride, Mohawk, or not.” Her emphasis on the last word was unpleasant.

Rath decided to comply until he figured out what to do with her. His mouth tightened as he continued to stare down at Zan’s remains, the headache came back dully. “Yeah, I’m riding.”

“I thought so. Now toss him and let’s be up outti…Go ahead, Rath. Pick him up.”

“You crazy! I ain’t touching that.”

“You’re gonna do what I say.”

Rath stretched his arm towards the body and concentrated. If Lonnie had powers popping up out of nowhere, maybe he did too. Maybe the headache shook something awake inside him. Slowly the body rolled over and over until it dropped over the edge into the river. Yeah, he had some powers…so why wasn’t he overjoyed?

“Very impressive,” Lonnie said softly. “Don’t disobey me again. Now come on.”

“Hey, who told you Zan’s dupe was in Roswell and how do you know he ain’t gonna be as much trouble as this one?”

“Never mind who and how. We’re wasting time.”

“Is all our dupes out there?”

“Supposed to be, but Max Evans is the only one we need.”

“Zan’s dupe. You even know his full frickin' name.”

“You’re a genius. Where the f*ck is Ava?”

“Maybe dead. I left her in Jersey.”

Lonnie strutted away carelessly and Rath followed her. “Yeah, well…we don’t need the weakest link. What were y’all doing in Jersey?”

“Korn’s crap.”

“Figures. Never mind. I don’t want to know.”

“Yo, how we s’posed to get to New Mexico, get this ‘Max’ Zan and get back here before the whole frickin summit idea is called off? This is some farfetched nonsensical sh*t you got planned here…Vilondra. I mean, if you’re the b*tcherina in charge, why we need Dupe Zan in the first place?”

“Your mouth’s gonna get you into trouble you don’t know about,” she answered coolly. “Max Evans is our back up. I ain’t taking no chances.” She didn’t want Rath to know that she had fooled with the orb and it had been totally unresponsive to her. “Enough talking. Just snatch us a d*mn ride from one of these early-morning-workaholic-yuppie-wonderbreads and let’s roll.”

Rath stalked off to do her bidding, but all the while he was thinking about what he should do – Cuz if Lonnie killed Zan (whom she admired and loved in her own twisted way), then she was sho’ nuff gonna do him in as soon as he served his purpose – whatever that was. He started jogging backwards along the road. When he saw the car he wanted (he was in the mood for a jag) he easily jumped right into it, pushed the speechless wonderbread out and made a careening u-turn back towards where he came from. Easy as pie. But his hands were tense on the wheel. Zan’s body was in the river, Lonnie was insane and it was their last chance at the summit.

So what was he gonna do?


[ edited 29time(s), last at 18-Feb-2003 7:53:47 PM ]
posted on 11-May-2002 7:45:01 AM
Ha-ha! Oooo, thanks for the fb! *big*

Okay, I know how you feel about what just happened to Big Z. I hurt too! *sad* All I'll say is,...

Zan is Da Man. *wink*

[ edited 1 time(s), last at 11-May-2002 7:46:01 AM ]
posted on 19-May-2002 6:57:32 AM
Whew! I tried to post on this site all last night and couldn't. That's what I call agony! LOL So here we go. Let me know what you think! ;)




part twenty-one



They were heading towards the highway and Rath had “Danger” blasting on the radio. He turned it down as the main thought in his brain became not leaving New York without doing something to rectify this f*cked up situation. Something. He wondered exactly how off-centered Lonnie was. The more the better.

“Yo, Lonnie.”

“Yeah?”

Hm, no protest about the name. Good. She was slipping.

“We gotta go back and my hockey stick.”

When she didn’t answer him, he raised his voice. “I said, I want my stick, yo.”

“Forget it.”

At that point Rath began to shout crazy obscenities and swerve the car all over the road. “I need my d*mn stick! I need my d*mn stick!!”

“Ay, stop! Get a grip, fool!…Alright, we’ll go back!” D*mn, he’s straight whacked in the head! I’m probably gonna have to kill him sooner than I thought. After a few minutes she noticed they weren’t taking the shortest route into Lower Manhattan. “What are we doing back here?”

“I didn’t leave it at the pod crib. I left it in that abandoned factory near 82nd and West End. Me and some old heads were rappin’…”

“Whatever, man. I’m going to the deli on the corner for some grub. Get the stupid thing and be back out here before me. And I’m not playing.”

Rath watched her get out of the car and stalk away. Then he followed suit and rushed across the street– a little faster than humanly possible. A couple people on the street stared after him quizzically. All the while in his head he was saying, ‘this is stupid this is stupid this is stupid…’ until he’d reached the approximate spot where he dropped Zan. Quickly looking around him and hoping this would work, he held his hand out over the water, his thoughts centered on the body but he wasn’t picking up anything. Sh*t, it’s only been twenty minutes! Where was he? Why wasn’t he floating near the surface? Trust even Zan’s dead body to be difficult! Rath spun around cursing with frustration. He was gonna have to jump in this cold, dirty mutha if he really wanted to do this and time was ticking. ‘Evileen’ was probably tapping them sharp, black nails on the hood right now. The only reason she was going for this ruse was cuz she was all drugged up and it might be wearing off now. Before giving himself a chance to think anymore, he ran and jumped into the river.

“Sh* t and a B*TCH!” The icy water seemed to sear the hair off his skin! Man! A’ight, he was gonna have to let his alien senses take over cuz he couldn’t see sh*t. He hoped the body didn’t get swept away by a current and wished he’d thought of that before he jumped in, d*mn. He swam to the bottom (kinda deep too!) and felt around and didn’t want to guess at some of the things he was touching…ouch!…yech!…what - ?! okay…yeah, yeah, here we go! Rath quickly swam upwards, dragging his find behind him. He tossed the body up on the bank and jumped out, scanning the area. It had started to rain lightly and there hardly any folks around. He looked down at the body, his face wrinkling in fresh disgust.

Now what?

***** ***** *****

Lucia was talking on the cell. “No change?…Okay, thanks, doc.” She tossed the phone down, saying nothing and the lump in Syn’s throat got bigger. They would visit Wheat tonight and demand that he snap out the coma. Demand it. They missed him so much already. The world wasn’t right without Wheat. But there was nothing else they could do right now. At least he was alive and they knew where he was.

“So where are we going first?” Lucia asked, wearily.

Staring out the car window, Syn didn’t respond. She was reaching for Zan, for his sweet strawberry-ness, his royal colors, and sensed nothing. Maybe that was cuz she wasn’t allowing herself to feel too much so that she wouldn’t break down again. But she might have to risk that to find him. “Lucia,” she began absently. “This is dangerous. Maybe you shouldn’t – “

Please! Don’t even let the words exit your mouth, girl, cuz they’re stupid. But you aren’t, so don’t go there.”

“Fine. Let’s go to my brother’s apartment. Zan…” she swallowed. “…Zan said they use up a lot of energy maintaining human bodies so this Larek alien that borrows him has to take a break sometime.”

Lucia glanced over at her friend. She didn’t look so good. Lucia herself was still bowled over by the situation and it all still seemed like a bad dream. “Syn, we’re dealing with alien superpowers. If we run into some bad aliens, our only chances are – one: not running into them, and two: playing dumb so they won’t have a reason to kill us. I mean, it’s not like we can outrun them.” She was calm for about thirty seconds and then she was banging her hands on the steering wheel… “Omig*d, this isn’t real! It can’t be real! Omig*d, omig*d! I mean, aliens?! Come on!”

Again, Syn didn’t respond. It had started to rain and she let it dot her face through the open window, trying to quell a growing panic. She was thinking about how much she loved them both. Mack had always been there for her even when he was away at the seminary. Not a week went by without a call from him checking to see if everything was okay in her world. And Zan, well…he and Syn were a story just beginning – or just ending. (Please no!) She thought about the way his eyes smoothed over her like warm honey when he kissed her. How much it would shred her inside if she never saw that honey again? The thought made her feel tired and sick, so she summoned her anger instead.

Lucia parked in the lot behind Mack’s building and they walked to the front entrance and just stood there, feeling conspicuous as if everyone knew what they knew.

“Um, okay, we’re here.”

“I’m gonna ring a neighbor’s bell,” Syn said, doing just that. “This one buzzed us in before.”

First mission accomplished, they slowly made their way down the hall, holding each other’s hands the closer they got to the last door. Syn lightly pressed a hand against it, feeling for Mack’s deep blue color. Nothing. When she reached for the knob, Lucia motioned wildly.

“Syn, did we establish and confirm exactly what we’re going to do if some bad aliens are in there?” she mouthed silently.

“Lu, I have to do this, but you don’t.”

“Again, you’re wrong. Gimme one of your rosary bracelets.”

Surprised, Syn did and watched her put it on and grab some sort of metal tool someone had left in the hall. “Gotta work with what we got, huh? Let’s do it.”

Syn carefully tried the knob and the lock slid back. Someone had been here – or was still here – cuz Syn distinctly remembered locking up the place before. She nodded to Lucia, eased the door open about six inches and paused. Well it was now or never. They crept in and Lucia held the tool high and to the right like a batter at the plate. That’s when they heard a deep sigh and jumped. Syn motioned desperately for Lucia to wait and she moved forward, eyes wide, her heart racing so fast she thought it would jump out of her chest.

On the floor lay Mack – or a being who looked like him - rubbing his eyes. He was in a white suit Syn had never seen before.

“Mackenzee?” she whispered.

He blinked a couple times. “Syn…is that you?”

The girls exchanged cautious glances. “Where’s Petey? Have you fed him yet?” Syn asked in a hard voice.

Mack immediately sat up. “Not funny. In fact it’s pretty sh*tty of you to joke about a dog that’s been dead ten years.”

She quickly stooped down at his side while Lucia remained in position to swing if necessary. “Mack, is it you?”

He suddenly realized something and hugged her. “You’ve got to get out of here! I can’t explain and…Lucia, put that down. My brain’s already been scrambled. I don’t need it bashed in too.”

“So you’re you now, huh?” She slowly lowered the bar.

“At the moment, yeah.”

Syn grabbed his shoulders. “Mack, where have you been? Are you hurt?”

He struggled to get to his feet. “Larek. I’ve been wherever he’s been and…” Mack looked down on his white suit. “…and evidently we’ve been to a ‘Saturday Night Fever’ revue.” He held open his lapels, muttering, “Gotta be freakin kidding me!”

“Mack – “

“There’s no time to explain or to hold my head saying ‘oh my g*d’ like I really want to. As far as I can tell an alien life form’s got control of my body half the time now. The b*tch riffled through my stuff and learned about you. Larek probably snuck in on me and saw you with that Zan dude - who’s an alien too by the way. This sh*t is crazy! I don’t think Larek can read my mind or knows that I’m conscious most of the time he’s got me, but he’s after your thug-love and thinks he can get to him through you. I want you to leave New York, Syn. Now. And don’t tell the Zan alien nothing. Don’t look at me like that. Stay away from him, Syn! He’s just as dangerous as Larek. I don’t know what lines he’s been feeding you, but – “

“Slow down, slow down! First, we need to figure out what to do about you. Second, I can’t leave. Zan’s been hurt bad. I felt it.”

“What the h*ll do you mean you felt it?”

“We…we…” At the look on his face she finished hastily. “No, not that! Look, I don’t have time to explain much either. I love him and we’re just intoned to one another, okay. I’m not leaving until I find him and that’s it.”

“That’s bullsh*t! How could you – ?” Mack raked his hair angrily, but he knew by the expression on her face that it was no use arguing. “Are you not listening to me? This bodysnatchin’ alien b*stard I’m dealing with wants him dead and he thinks you might be the way to get him. Speak English? So you gotta stay away from him and me cuz I can’t stop Larek when he takes over. I can fight him back sometimes but once he gets a foothold on my consciousness I’m just along for the ride. But he doesn’t know I see, hear and thinks what he does – most of the time.”

“How do you know he doesn’t know?!”

“I just do!”

“Okay, let’s remain calm, shall we?” Lucia interjected with raised hands. “Has the way to stop him from taking you over crossed his mind lately?”

“Yeah.”

“And, um, that would be…?”

Mack frowned dejectedly. “Electric shock once he gets in. Kind of a high voltage. Too high.”

Syn bit her lip in frustration. “There’s got to be another way! How long does he want to use you?”

“After the summit they’re leaving. Your boy’s sister, Lonnie, is as crooked as they come. Like Steven Sagal, he’s ‘Marked for Death’. Larek told her to kill him and she’s gonna do it, so if you felt something, he’s dead already. You got no reason to look for him.”

Syn ignored his last words, her eyes cool. “Mack, if I see you again, you need to give a continuous sign that it’s you and not somebody else.”

“I know what he could do! He could keep running his fingers through his hair,” Lucia said, flashing her dimples.

Mack shook his head wryly and Syn nearly smiled at Lucia’s ability to flirt at a time like this.

“Well, I guess that should do it but that definitely ain’t me. I’m not the pat and primp kind of guy.”

“So now what?’ Lucia asked.

“Well, Mack should go about business as usual. There’s nothing else to do. Larek can’t use your body off this planet and he has no reason to kill you. He’s bad news alright, but these aliens are on a mission. They’re not wasting energy on random acts. Lu, like I said before, I’m involved up to my eyebrows but you – “

Lucia cut her eyes hard. “Shut up, Syn! Just shut up. Shees! If we’re gonna search for Zan, let’s go now before this creepy Larek alien dude comes back and melts us or something.”

***** ***** *****

In the park Rath picked a deserted place near the biggest tree he’d ever seen up close in his Earthly life. He placed Zan near it and backed away. What he wanted to do was get Zan to the pod chamber. That was where they originated from and it just seemed fitting that the body should be left there. But there was no time, plus it was a dumb idea cuz Lonnie’d be going back there eventually with or without him. He’d have to bury the body in the d*mn park. Well, anything was better than leaving Zan to be crab food. Dude had always been a pain in his *ss – at least on Earth. But sh*t…Zan was his own kind, so f*ck it. He held his hand out. If this didn’t work, he’d have to think of a Plan B cuz he d*mn sure wasn’t digging a hole with his hands! A low hum started and the dirt under Zan began to crumble and cave in. His charred body began to sink down, down, down deep and the dirt rolled and folded back over him as if the ground had never been disturbed.

Rath looked at his hand with a smirking admiration. “I. Am. The Shiznit!”

***** ***** *****

Syn was standing front of the window of her apartment so depressed she could drink herself into oblivion if she were someone else. Lucia sat sprawled on a kitchen chair, watching her.

“Syn, we drove all over the City of New York – all five boroughs. He’s not anywhere around here. I’m so sorry, babe, but there’s no point in retracing the same ground tomorrow.

Syn’s voice was small and strained. “Lucia, I can’t let go.” She turned to face her. “I can’t let him go. I can’t just leave him.”

It hurt Lucia to see her friend’s tearful eyes full of love for someone they’d never find. She walked over to her, saying gently, “Syn, you can’t leave someone you can’t find.”

“What am I gonna do, Lu? What – ?” She stopped abruptly.

“What is it?”

“Do you hear that?”

They both listened. Heavy footfalls, several pair, were coming up the stairs. They seemed to stop right in front of Syn’s door and Syn reached for the switchblade in her purse and motioned for silence. Suddenly, there was a heavy scratching and they both jumped.

“Syn, what the f*ck is it?!” Lucia hissed, trembling.

“We’re about to find out!”

When Syn tiptoed towards the door, Lucia followed with a kitchen chair held high and ready. Syn yanked open the door, arm upraised and lost her breath at the sight in front of her. Sitting there calmly was the biggest German Shepherd in the world! It was ‘Angel’, the strange dog that had protected her from Dawdek that night. He started to growl a little.

Um, It was him, right?



TBC…




posted on 25-May-2002 10:23:21 PM
Yowza! All these lovely fb posts! *big* I am humbled, lovely readers. (Yes, any guy readers here are lovely, too!) Well, it's Memorial Day weekend, I had my first profession driving lesson and this week I only got some writing done, so no new part this weekend. Is next weekend okay for y'all?*happy*

Enjoy the official summer kickoff! Say a prayer for or personally thank some veterans!
posted on 3-Jun-2002 12:13:00 AM
Well, it's 12:13am 6/3. Something is very wrong with my computer and it is soooo slooooowww it's driving me nutso. Okey-doke, here it is. Kinda short and well...I'm ready to get on with the next chapter!



part twenty-two


As Lucia started to swing the chair downward in what seemed like slow motion, she was thinking that if a miracle happened and Dogzilla didn’t chew them down to bones and ragged gristle, she’d start going to church again (even though she was still pissed at the Big G over her sister’s death) every Sunday - the crack of dawn Mass too!

“Wait, Lu! Stop!” Syn cried, grabbing her descending wrists.

Lucia dropped the chair when the dog loped into the apartment as nonchalant as you pleased. The girls hugged each other, staring at the humongous animal and Lucia nearly lost her last meal when it walked right up to them and barked loudly once. It circled them and brushed against Syn repeatedly.

“Lucia, it’s the dog that helped me! He’s trying to tell us something.”

“That he’s h-hungry?”

It tugged at Syn’s skirt. “He knows something. Come on! Let’s follow him.”

“No, I’m not following that big a** dog! Are you crazy? Good g*d, can this get any more bizarre?! How in the world did he get into the building?”

The dog barked and whined insistently and Lucia cringed when Syn patted him on the head.

“He’s…special in some way. Lu, he knows something about Zan.”

“What could possibly make you think that?”

“I feel it,” they both said at the same time.

“Yeah, yeah,” Lucia continued. “I’ve heard that soooo many times before.”

“And the feeling’s always been right.”

The dog impatiently trotted from the apartment and down the stairs. Pulling her along, Syn hurried after Angel who seemed to know exactly where he was going. He jumped through the back window of the old mustang, making it shake under his weight.

“Uh, Syn, you drive. I can’t deal with this. What’s he gonna do? Bark directions?”

Wasting no time Syn took the keys and they shot off into the busy morning traffic. In a short time a form of communication was established – silence for ‘no’, one bark for ‘yes’. In this manner they wound up on the Upper West Side of Manhattan near Riverside Park, and Angel began to bark emphatically, looking towards the trees.

“Maybe he’s gotta pee,” Lucia suggested.

When Syn swerved the car into the park without hesitation, Angle’s barking intensified and he made the car shake again as he awkwardly ran in circles scratching up the back seat to Lucia’s horror.

“Let him out please! I’ll never hear the end of Ricky’s mouth about this sh*t. D*mn!”

Syn let him out and ran quickly after him, not stopping until he did – by a very large elm. He scratched eagerly at one spot under the tree and a tremor started in the pit of her stomach.

“So what’s this? Lucia asked out of breath when she finally caught up with them.

“No. Please no,” Syn replied in barely a whisper as she went down on all fours pressing her hands into the earth. She squeezed her eyes shut and to her horror she felt his colors - very faintly. “He’s buried under here,” she rasped.

“Are – are you sure?” Lucia moved slowly towards her. “You mean he’s dead?”

Angel was quiet now, just watching them.

“No, he’s not.” Syn looked up, her calm tones belying the wild emotion in her face. “We have to dig him out.”

***** ***** *****

It was weird looking at someone deathly ill who was young like you. It was wrong. It was as if you weren’t guaranteed time to mess up and then make things right again. Roman barely heard Ava who stood at his side when she said quietly,

“This sucks.”

“Tell me about it.” He needed a smoke.

“The doc sure didn’t say much. What was his problem?”

Roman’s mouth tightened. “Don’t ask me. I never met one yet that wasn’t an as*.”

Ava squeezed his hand. She felt awkward, wishing she could heal this guy like Zan - for Roman’s sake – but she couldn’t.
“So you went to school with him, huh?”

“Yeah. Uh, let’s jet.” He’d had enough contemplation of his own mortality for a day. But when they turned to leave, Wheat started moaning, his brainwave machine or whatever blinking and bleeping. “What’s going on? What’d I do?”

“Nothing, Rome. Look!”

Wheat started to move his mouth like he was talking and suddenly he sat straight up, eyes wide.

“Yo!”

“Oh my g*d!”

Breathing hard, Wheat looked down in puzzlement at his grip on Roman’s arm. “Where am I?” he asked groggily.

“Maybe I should get the nurse. Like why aren’t they in here by now,” Ava said, spooked.

“No! Don’t do that. I’m fine, I’m fine. I just…gotta get out of here. Ay…Roman, right?”

“Yeah.” They shook hands. “Wait, what am I doing? You need some help in here, man. You’ve been in a coma.”

“I know. Where are my clothes? I gotta warn Syn about her brother.” Roman stepped back in alarm when Wheat hopped out of bed like he was the picture of health.

“What about him?”

“No time to explain. Can you give me a lift?” He was rummaging in the drawers and closets. “Nothing, d*mn! Look, you gotta get me out of here.”

“No way. You’re not dropping dead in my car. Just calm down.”

“If you care about Syn at all, you’ll help me.” This caught Ava’s attention. “Check the hallway. I’m walking out of here with you – and your…friend.”

“I’m Ava.”

“I’m in a hurry. Soooo…”

Roman shook his head. “Not gonna work. This is the intensive care unit. Don’t you think they’ll notice a dude in a gown strolling out the door.”

Ava chewed her lip. “Wait here. I got an idea.” She went out into the hallway, thinking she might as well try to use that weird new power she had – something she liked to call a ‘mindwarp’. She peeked at the nurses’ station. Hmm. Only two of them. Good. The supply closet was right next to the station. Ava closed her eyes and concentrated on making herself look like the doctor she and Rome talked to earlier. She winced and leaned up against the wall. It still gave her a headache to do this.

“You okay, Dr. Coleman?” this super cute male nurse asked.

Ooo, I’d be better if you could spare some time… “Yeah, I didn’t have breakfast, that’s all. Thanks.”

Great Body Nurse left her and she went in and rummaged around for some scrubs. Let’s see…this dude Wheat was about 5’9”, so…Here we go! Proud of herself she hurried back to the room. Maybe she could have tried to make everybody think Wheat had regular clothes on but (a) she didn’t know if she was strong enough to do it and (b) she wasn’t about to reveal her alien status to anybody.

“Yo, put these on.”

Roman smiled at her. “My name is Im Pressed.”

“Me too. Now be two pals and drop me off at Syn’s,” Wheat said throwing on the scrubs.

“You don’t have shoes.”

“And no time to worry about it either. Aren’t all these doctors half nuts anyway? I’ll blend in. Just stay on one side of me while we walk out and maybe they won’t notice. They think I’m in a coma, remember? We’ll all just stroll out casual.” Wheat finally took a good look at Ava’s outfit – a short leopard print skirt with red fish nets, 17th century-looking black thigh boots, a black bra-like thing with red sequins and a short red leather jacket. “Mm, well…as casual as possible.”

Ava raised an eyebrow.

“Yo, let’s go if we’re gonna do this,” Roman said impatiently.

They entered the hallway and Ava decided to try the warp again just enough to make it look like Wheat had shoes on. She only had to squint a little for that. They passed the nurses’ station with no problem, skipped the elevator for the steps down four stories to the less populated walkway in the rear of the hospital.

“Easier than I thought. I’m parked right across the street.” When they finally pulled off, Roman demanded, “So are you gonna explain why you’re suddenly cured and what’s up with Syn and her brother?”

“No.”

“What do you mean ‘no’, man? I want to know.”

Ava started popping gum. “Who is this Syn?”

Wheat was starting not to feel so good all of a sudden and tried his best to hide it. “Do everyone involved a favor and just get me there.”

***** ***** *****

Lucia was driving this time and the Manhattan streets were thickly congested. “This is beyond insane. A big dog like that can’t just disappear – not that I’m sorry. But I mean, where’d he go? And besides that…Syn, I don’t think I can do it.”

“I don’t want to do this alone but you know I will, so it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not okay! Nothing about any of this is okay! This is the frickin Twilight Zone! Plus, I can hear the not-okayness in your voice, Syndara. Are you sure - I mean really sure - that Zan is buried out there?”

“Positive. And he’s alive.”

Lucia was creeped out by her calmness.

“I’m creeping you out, right?”

“How’d you guess?”

“If I don’t chill like this, I will lose it completely. Just trust me about what I’m saying. I’m not crazy.”

Lucia took a few minutes to get a grip and gather her thoughts. “It can’t be done in broad daylight, Syn.”

“No choice.”

“Think about it for a moment. If we do it now, the police might come around. They do swing through that park during the day, y’ know. Plus, there are a few concerned citizens left in New York who’ll see us and call them – at least those that don’t want anything weird happening along their morning jog route. The cops will arrest us, finish the dig, find your alien, and do experiments on him until there’s nothing sexy left for you. If he dies before we come back tonight, he’s better off and you know it.” She paused to let that sink in and when no protest was forthcoming she continued, “So we’ll go back to my place and chill with some shovels on the ready.” Worriedly, she looked over at her friend. “Okay?”

Syn acquiesced in miserable silence.



TBC…



posted on 6-Jun-2002 8:57:55 PM
Again, thanks for the fb! *big* I'll try to get that next part out soon. lol Where is this story going? I kinda know...but then again...I don't! lol

What's up with the dog? How is Zan still alive? How come the other dupes didn't know? Where is Korn? Will Rath and Lonnie meet the Roswell Four and their Human Contingent? I'd like to know myself! LOL

See y'all soon!

Whoa, keyboard's acting funny now. *sad*
posted on 12-Jun-2002 11:13:47 PM
Roswellians! I'm not satisfied with what I've written so far, so there will be a delay in the posting of the next chapter. I need vibes! I need fruit! I need vegetables! I need to rewatch some more S1 tapes! Oh golly gee, help me! LOL...But since you've all been super patient with me for the past year, I'm going to post the first chapter of a Kyle fic sometime this Sunday. It's written but it just needs considerable editing and of course I have to type it. I write in longhand first, then type.

See y'all Sunday! *angel*
posted on 13-Jun-2002 7:09:14 AM
quote:
Angela35 originally wrote:
Let's see.

Ripe strawberries
Fresh peaches
Seedless grapes
Kiwi
Pineapple

and

Fresh corn
Carrots
Vine ripened tomatoes
Zucchini

and

{{{{{{{{{Ecstasy Vibes}}}}}}}}}

Hope that helps! *wink*

Angela



Oh Angela, thank you so much! This definitely helps! lol
posted on 16-Jun-2002 1:57:08 AM
Carol000, I hope I'm back in the groove too! lol Sometimes there's more agony than ecstasy to writing.

RoswellJunky, thanks for the Passion Fruit! *wink*

And thanks for all the bumps, everyone. *happy* My! This board does move fast!

Okay, I'm working out the kinks of part twenty-three and this week coming is a 'go'. Let's say at least by next Sunday - hopefully much, much sooner.

Thanks again! *angel*



posted on 23-Jun-2002 11:02:26 PM
Golly-gee! Took me 20 days to get this out. Pardonnez-moi!


part twenty-three


On their way back to Lucia’s they passed by Syn’s place again and saw a figure slumped on the front steps. Lucia’s mouth shaped into a surprised ‘O’. “That looks like - !”

Syn twisted around in her seat. “It is! Come on!”

They hastily parked in the only available spot across the street and ran across.

“Wheat, what are you doing out here? What happened?” they cried, gently helping him into a sitting position. He was weak and could barely keep his eyes open.

“Short…story, but I don’t…have time to…to…”

“Let’s get him inside! It’s too cold out here.”

“Wait! Syn, your…brother…d*mn, I’m dizzy! Something’s wrong with him – “

“I know so don’t try to talk right now.” Both girls suddenly hugged him. “Oh Wheat…thank G*d!”

He tried to smile. “Aw, you know it takes a nation of millions to hold me back.”

“And a team of two to get you upstairs to bed. Grab his arm, Lu.”

“Please tell me this elevator is fixed.”

“Only one way to find out.” Syn pressed the button and the doors opened promptly. “I think we have a winner.”

Syn’s bed felt good to Wheat after the brick mattress at the local hospital, but he couldn’t relax yet. “Syn, your brother – he – “

“How’d you get here? When did you wake up?” Lucia fired at him as she wiped his face with a cool cloth.

“Roman drove me.”

Syn frowned, hands on her hips. “And he just left you on the front steps?”

“I made him. He had to…take his new girlfriend somewhere and I had…to see you asap.”

Lucia rolled her eyes. “That’s bullsh*t! He shouldn’t have left you like that!”

“He said he’s coming back.”

“Well, I have a few choice words for him,” Syn said heatedly.

“We can’t stay here waiting.” Lucia looked meaningfully at Syn. “Someone might be looking for you. Remember?”

Wheat tried to speak past his coughing spasm. “Yeah…her crazy f*ckin…brother! He tried to knock my…f*ckin brains out!”

“No, it’s not really Mack, Wheat! It’s not his fault. I’ll explain everything when we get to Lucia’s.”

“Well, it better be frickin’ good. Anyway, Lucia, your Aunt Fran isn’t just gonna wave when she sees me. I think we need another plan cuz I’m not up to too much excitement right now. That’s one frenetic woman.”

“Man, you don’t have to tell me. I live there.”

A thought came to him and he sat up straight quickly but got dizzy again. “Owww…d*mn! Y’ know, the coma wasn’t bad, but this sh*t is annoying! Yo, my Grand Ol’ Oprys are probably calling the cops right now, since I’m ‘missing’ from the hospital. I know some nurse has checked my room by now. I gotta go home.”

Syn nodded. “You’re right. What am I thinking? The police’ll be searching for you and if it’s a slow week for the news stations, you’ll be the filler topic. We don’t want to draw attention to any of us right now.”

Wheat sat up even straighter, looking back and forth between the two of them. “Ummm…something’s really screwed here, isn’t it? – cuz you both look like cornered squirrels and Lucia’s biting the crap out of her lip I’m only dealing with three quarters of my deck right now, but let me take a stab at this.” The fear he sensed in his best friends was seeping into him. “What is going on with you two that you don’t want the cops to know about? And how is Mack, who attacked me, ‘not really Mack’? Who the f*ck was he then?!”

Syn held his hand, squeezing gently, and leaned towards him, speaking slowly. “Trust me. I’m going to tell you everything, but we have to leave this building now.”

After a moment Wheat squeezed back. “Then let’s go.”

They got him out to the car, looking around cautiously for who or whatever didn’t look right and took off.

“Wheat,” Syn began carefully.

“Yeah.”

“What I’m about to say is going to sound unbelievable but…I guess I just have to come out and say it…a being from another planet is using Mack’s body. The alien attacked you, not Mackenzee.”

“Ohhhh! Is that all?”

“Wheat, I’m serious. It’s true.”

“Totally true,” Lucia interjected. “Just wait ‘til you hear about the humongous talking disappearing dog.”

“Huh? No, I don’t want to hear about that. Okay, just for insanity’s sake say this is true. Why was this alien trying to kill me? I didn’t do anything and I don’t know anything! All I want to do is play great music in a good band. I don’t even need to make bank like N-Sync so…what the f*ck, y’ know? Why me?”

Lucia shook her head. “It sucks I know, but if alien dude wanted you dead, I bet you would be. Wheat, do you remember ‘Mack’ doing anything weird at all before he attacked you?”

“Ah, come to think of it…Does he have anything that – glows? We were walking down the street to get the priazzo, just talking normal, right? Then all of a sudden he turns away real quick and it looked like something was glowing in his hand. I asked him what it was and he had this mean look on his face. That’s the last thing I remember.” Wheat looked puzzled. “But I know he’s the one that...did something to me. Could you put some flesh on this story? What is going on?

Syn gave him the abbreviated tale about Zan, the aliens, the thugs, and the dog. By the time she finished they were in front of his great-grandparents house.

“Too wild, isn’t it? What do you have to say about all that?” Lucia asked, glancing at him in the rearview mirror.

He was silent, his head back, staring at the roof of the car. “I don’t want to believe it, but nobody could invent such cornball, cheap sci-fi even if they tried. I don’t know. I don’t care right now. I’m hurting and I’m tired. Yo…the grands are just gonna send me back to the hospital if I go in there. They’re gonna ask a whole lot of questions and all I wanna do is sleep.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll just convince them that you’re fine and don’t need to go back, okay?”

“Gotta see it to believe it. What are y’all gonna do in the meantime? Are you serious about digging up this Zan alien in Riverside Park? Am I actually taking this whole thing seriously? You can’t go without me. You need me there. I’m a guy.”

“A woozy guy.”

“Just come pick me up. Lucia, how’d you get your crazy cousin’s car?”

“I just took it. He didn’t feel like driving to Maryland. He’ll be there for a week.”

“Come on, Lu. Let’s do this. Wheat, you need rest.”

“Don’t forget about coming for me.”

Wheat’s great-grand-parents were so overjoyed that he was able to talk to them that they paid little attention to the dubious explanation they were given. Back at Lucia’s she ate but Syn could do nothing but pace and agonize. She suffered especially wondering if she’d made the right decision and suspecting that she hadn’t. Or was this just the torture of second-guessing? Of course with anyone else she would have called the police and started digging. Wasn’t it worth the risk of discovery to get him out alive right away? She normally trusted her instincts. Yet something inside her sensed that Lucia’s plan was best for Zan. But the waiting was killing her! She was so anxious she felt like jumping right out of her skin.

Lucia kept saying to her, “Try to relax, Syn. You’re gonna need valium in a minute.”

But it was no use. Each minute was like ten. At 9pm it was pitch black outside and she could stand it no longer. She picked up the shovels and bag of flashlights propped against the wall in Lucia’s room. “We have to go. Now.”

A protest that it was still too early was on Lucia’s tongue but she held it. “Alright, but we just can’t stroll past Aunt Fran downstairs with shovels. She’s neurotically nosy. Let me toss ‘em out the window.”

“Won’t she hear that?”

“As loud as she plays the TV – are you kidding?”

Just then Wheat called Lucia’s cell. “What’s going on?”

“Um, nothing, dude. Just chillin’.”

“Bullsh*t. Come pick me up. I’m fine now.”

“Wheat, I don’t know what you think this is! You’ve been in a coma. Stay home and rest! Plus, it’s 9pm. I got an 8:30 Spanish class tomorrow. Tu comprends, amigo?

“ ‘Tu comprends’? Your class must be too early cuz you’re mixing your foreign languages. You’re going to dig up the Man From Space and I wanna see him.”

Syn took the phone. “Wheat, we don’t have time for this.”

“I…think I saw somebody while I was asleep. I guess it was a dream but…it looked like your alien. I was stuck in mud or something. He was trying to pull me out and it was working but then I fell asleep again in the dream.”

“Why didn’t you mention this before?” she whispered.

“I didn’t remember ‘til now.”

“We’re leaving. If you’re not outside when we drive past, we’re not stopping.” Click.

Aunt Fran’s eyes were glued to the Thursday Night Movie as they passed her on the way out and collected the shovels tossed outside. They picked up Wheat and continued on, the travel time between Brooklyn and the City somehow slower than usual. The park was dotted sparsely with lamps, and they pulled out the flashlights.

“I don’t know,” Lucia muttered, reluctantly shutting the car door as she held her light up high. “This would be a good time for Angel the fairytale dog to show up.”

“Maybe he’s on another assignment.”

“Shh, Wheat, not so loud! Look at her. Where is she going? Syn, wait up!” Lucia pulled Wheat behind her, hurrying to catch up.

“Here’s the spot,” Syn said, already starting to dig and her friends unenthusiastically joined her.

“Syn, are you sure? I don’t remember – “

“Positive. Here’s the tree.”

Wheat raised an eyebrow. “Quite a few of those around.”

There was an unpleasant silence all around them, like an ominous waiting. The more they dug the more Syn could feel Zan’s faint vibe. It was the sluggish, delicate ebb and flow of his blood - or his soul, ready to stop at any moment. It frightened her.

“Hang on, Zan, please. I’m almost there,” she whispered only for him to hear.

How long had they been digging? An hour and a half? Lucia was already sprawled on the ground catching her breath and Wheat himself finally pitched the shovel in the dirt and bent over bracing himself at the knees. “Syn maybe…Whew, sh*t! I’m out of breath…maybe this ain’t the spot. Maybe he’s not – “ Syn flicked her shovel again, exposing something in the ground and Wheat froze. “ – here.”

“I don’t hear anything,” Lucia singsonged languidly. “No movement. No voices. What’s up? Do I have to sit up to find out? Please say no. I am truly done.”

It was a hand. His. But something was very wrong with it. Syn shakily covered her mouth as she sank to her knees, finally sensing his twisted, fractured colors. She smelled relentless pain.

“Wait! Don’t touch it, Syn,” Wheat said. “You don’t know what – I mean, you don’t know…”

Lucia leaned over the ditch holding up her light. “Don’t touch what? What…um, what’s that? It…it’s…Oh my g*d! Oh l*rd! Syn, wait a minute – !” And Wheat blocked her impulsive forward motion and the two of them watched, horrified.

In a daze Syn only heard the word ‘wait’ and she quickened her pace as if to escape the command, carefully digging around the charred hand and exposing more and more of the body it was attached to. Her hands slowed as she took in the sight of what she had uncovered. Was she numb? She must be cuz there was a scream trapped in her stomach. She leaned down closer.

“Syn, don’t touch him,” Wheat said hoarsely.

“It’s him,” she replied, tonelessly.

Lucia pushed past Wheat finally. “He’s dead, Syn! He’s dead. Let’s go!”

“No, he’s not.”

“Look,” Wheat continued gruffly, “I don’t know what the h*ll happened to him but he’s decomposed to the point where you better hope he is dead!”

“I’m not leaving him here.”

Speaking as calmly as she could, Lucia put a hand on her shoulder, startling her. “What else can we do? Look at him.”

“I said I’m not leaving him here! I – ” She tried to think. “He has, ah, someone – another kind of alien – called…a protector. Maybe he’ll know what to do!”

Lucia clapped her hands together decisively. “Okay then! He or it can come here and handle this,” she asserted anxiously, not liking what she suspected Syn wanted to do.

“Wheat, help me. Let’s get him in the car.”

Wheat’s eyes slid sideways. “Ummmm….”

And Lucia grabbed his arm as if he had moved, and said in a trembling voice, “Syn, you’re my best friend, but no f*ckin way! Are you kidding me? And do what with him?!”

Syn didn’t answer but placed her hands on what used to be Zan’s handsome face. Tears slipped from her eyes, falling on it. What happened to you? Tell me what to do! Talk to me! She added more pressure, thinking she could somehow connect with him, desperate to know how to help him.

Wheat suddenly whipped around as headlights flickered through the trees not far away. “Hey, somebody’s coming! I bet it’s the cops! Whatever we’re gonna do, we better do it now.”

Syn cradled Zan in her arms. “Help him! Help me help him please! Please!” Syn begged, crying in earnest now.

Wheat moved quickly, hauling the stiff body up by the shoulders before he could think about what he was touching. “Y’all grab his legs. Come on, Lucia, move!”

Lucia was so exhausted, scared and revolted that she was crying too as they struggled with the dead weight. “The flashlights!”

“Leave ‘em!”

They got the body in the car and, with Wheat driving this time, took off just as a patrol car came near and a few long, tense moments held the possibility of sirens and pursuit, but nothing happened.

“Go to my place,” Syn ordered woodenly from the back seat, holding Zan’s head in her lap.

Lucia stuck her face out the window and threw up.

***** ***** *****

Bile. Pink bile with – green lumps. Korn squinted down at the sticky hand he lifted weakly towards his face. It was the most disgusting thing to ooze from his person that he ever saw in his life. Plus, he felt like sh*t – to the point that he would have knocked himself out if the signal warning him that the king was in danger hadn’t gone off inside his head. The signal was weak though, dulled by his d*mn near flatlining on bad drugs. The next time he saw his dealer, he would alienate him painfully. Just wait!

Korn struggled to sit up, each movement making him want to vomit forever, so he went slowly because his rather delicate tastes couldn’t stand the sight or smell of it. He looked around, blinking rapidly. Sh*t, even eyelid movements were making him sick! Yep, he was still in this alley full of garbage. The humans were so nasty they didn’t dispose of it yet. He could probably go undiscovered here for a year. These life forms were ridiculous! It was funny that the only thing he liked on Earth was the one thing that could make an alien ill. Go figure.

He managed to get to his feet. First he had to dig around all this mess and find the healing stones so he could heal himself because he was no good to anyone like this. After half an hour, he was nearly foaming at the mouth. The stones! He whipped around in a circle eying the area suspiciously although he was the only sentient being there – he thought.

Where were the Vennd*mn stones?!




TBC…



posted on 23-Jun-2002 11:29:35 PM
Thanks to everyone for your support, your 'bumping', your fruit and vibes. LOL I needed them all!

antarpixie, wow I'm kinda honored that anyone would officially 'ship Zan and Syn. I don't know what the shippers should be called. Hmm...The Peach Providers, The Dupe Dreamers.... Anyone else have any ideas? I'm tickled pink! *big*

Angela, let hope spring eternal! Am I spoiling anyone if I say there's a happy ending in sight?

b4echstarrynite, if you have any questions about the story so far, ask away. *happy*

By the way...Thanks, Angela and b4ech for the prompt feedback! So kind!
*angel*
posted on 24-Jun-2002 12:27:11 AM
b4tech, did you receive my email with the link?

wildbehr and BehrLovin' (Yeah, we got 'Behr' in the house! What a pretty man indeed! lol), thank you both for posting. I will really try to ge the next part out this week. I need to for my own sanity!

posted on 24-Jun-2002 6:57:26 PM
Ahhh, more fb from:

IAmLongTimeFan
sugarplum17
believer_evans
Nettygirl
angelsroswell99
LixMix5
Moonlit Jade
LTL
(the OTO Queen of Oogy Lady!)
LivE
mitra

and
LEL

people, I'm humbled that you'd take out the time to type on this thread! It's very gracious of you. *blush* *big*

quote:
LivE originally wrote:
Okay, I don't want to sound like a panicked, sad person, but could poor Zan PLEASE be returned IN FULL WORKING ORDER to the land of the living? I live in dire fear of him being replaced with Max, and, well, I would NOT like that.

End our torture, I beg of you!!


Hee-heeeee! Mwuah-hah-haah!

Okay, seriously...I think LivE's post sums up a common concern or two. To address the latter: Zan will NEVER be replaced by Max in this fic. That's transgression number one in this Dupe World. I do love Max but this is Zanboy's thang. Absolutely no dice!

As for Zan's physical reality...well...

Keep readin', my lovelies! Hee-Heeee!

posted on 29-Jun-2002 7:48:29 AM
quote:
Miliana72 originally wrote:
Hey Pinky! Remember me? It's Kas from the Truckas.

*Peachy Vibes*

Kas


{{{Kas!}}} Are you kidding? I totally remember you! It's good to see you, m'dear. Mmwuah! Truckas for lyfe, right? Zan's da man!

Thanks for posting, Ursa. *happy* Korn is a strange dude, isn't he? He's interesting to write and the words just sort of tumble from the pen.


Okay, Peach People. I've been going through some stuff at work and it's been hot so the peaches aren't ripe at all - if you know what I mean. Hm, but if it's too hot then they should be ripe, huh? Oh well... Next weekend, next weekend! Peach's honor! *angel*


[ edited 1 time(s), last at 29-Jun-2002 7:50:20 AM ]
posted on 30-Jun-2002 6:20:03 PM
RoswellJunky! Wow, thanks for the bumps and jumps! That was a serious Ecstasy Vibe post. I am grateful! *angel*


quote:
PandaBehr originally wrote:
Oh Gawd Pinky...how in the heck are ya gonna undecompose Zan's dead carcass?

Ooooohhh, can hardly wait. Pinky you are one colorful writer.

PB


LOL PandaBehr, I feel what you're saying! This is gonna be tricky...

And as for my writing...Pshaw!...I need to improve on several levels. My idol RosDeidre kicks out such beautiful prose! And I need to learn to keep to deadlines. Or rather I must learn to be consistent and diligent. Like, how'm I ever gonna get anything I write in Oprah's Book of the Month Club if I don't actual complete stories? lol But thank you! *big*

Keep the vibes comin', y'all!



[ edited 1 time(s), last at 30-Jun-2002 6:22:16 PM ]
posted on 3-Jul-2002 3:46:58 PM
CrashdownAntarianGirl, (*blush*) thank you! *big*

Well, Roswellians, if the heat doesn't kill me first, I'll post the next part by Sunday for sure. The rough draft is completed. Now for the typing, editing...yah, yah, yah. lol



Happy Fourth of July!

posted on 6-Jul-2002 12:27:02 PM
This is way too short and there's not much to it in my humble opinion. Umm, okay the next part will be longer and better. Promise! *big*



part twenty-four


Lucia and Wheat had remained with Syn at her apartment, more afraid to leave her alone with the body than to be in the same room with it themselves.

“Syn, we need a plan,” Wheat said. “He’s giving me more than the creeps, especially if he’s still alive.”

Syn felt guilty among other things as she stared at the figure on her bed.
“It isn’t fair,’ she said bleakly. “I never should have involved either of you in this. I love him so I don’t have a choice. My heart won’t give me one. But I can see how all this must feel to you. I am so…sorry, but I love him. I love him!” Sobbing uncontrollably, Syn slumped down on her knees beside Zan.

Wheat whispered tightly to Lucia, “I’ll be right back.”

Lucia grabbed his arm like a lifeline. “I don’t thinks so!”

“I’m getting a gun from Shenk. He lives around here.”

“What for?!”

“What do you think? We all can’t just stay here looking at each other! If we don’t have a plan, then at least we can have some protection.”

“You can’t leave us here, Wheat! Forget it!”

Wheat walked over to Syn and gently pulled her to her feet. “Syn, we have to do something. We all can’t just stay here together forever with this alien corpse. Now, you mentioned a protector. Where is he?”

“I don’t know anything about him except that he sucks big at his job.”

Lucia folded her arms. “That’s just wonderful.”

“Well, what do we see happening here in the immediate future? We have to think of something – anything.”

Syn tried to calm herself enough to do just that and a possible lead came to her. “Zan and the others live in the sewer. I mean, down in the subway – around Canal Street.”

Lucia blinked slowly, holding her stomach as if she were going to be sick. “We can not waltz around down in the subway to maybe find this sucky protector and or his alien crew who would probably kill us on sight. No, we can not do that.”

The perpetual wave of panic coursing through Syn crested, making her breathless to the point of near fainting until a little blue light of serenity eased softly into her mind and she shuddered with relief.

“Syndara, what is it?” Lucia asked, alarmed.

“Please just stay here with him for an hour. There’s something I need to do before we decide on anything else.” And grabbing her jacket and keys, she rushed out with Wheat cursing and Lucia calling after her, “Where are you going at five in the morning? Come back – !”

***** ***** *****

In the suite at the Plaza Hotel Deshamos (Nicholas) looked around slyly at Sero, Larek, Kathana, and Hanar, who were also looking around at each other.

“This situation is ridiculous. We can not keep waiting for Zan, Sero,” Hanar announced flatly. “So what are we going to do?”

“We don’t need Zan,” Larek said quietly.

“No?” Kathana sneered with frustration. “Then why the h*ll did anyone spend all these years looking for him and why are we even sitting here now? We have to find him and make him make peace and give up the granolith.”

Hanar set his cup down noisily, nearly turning his entire large frame to face her. “Zan is unpredictable – always has been. And now he’s a hybrid. That makes him inferior in the first place and untrustworthy in the second. And the granolith? I’m beginning to believe it’s a myth. It’s only a library and a mode of transportation, nothing more. I say we make peace among ourselves and be done with it.”

Deshamos spun around in his chair, sunglasses in place, as he stared up at the ceiling.

“We can’t have peace without Zan because we can’t have peace if Antar is at war. It’s as simple as that,” said Sero.

Kathana leaned back, rolling her eyes. “There are still original members of the previous Antarian court left on Antar. We could deal directly with them.”

“And Khivar?” Deshamos questioned silkily.

“He’s a conqueror, not a king,” she spat. “His golden moment came when he marched through the main gate of the royal city. I mean, look at your own people, Deshamos. Antar is a mess like it’s never been before!”

Deshamos quickly snatched off his glasses and leaned towards her. “Concern? And this coming from Antar’s worst enemy. How touching! And wrong. Antar is as it’s always been and always will be. So back to reality – the so-called Holy Days are way over and as we all know the killing has escalated, but hey, what can you do, right? Give it a few more days. Zan will be back.”

Hanar peered over the rim of his cup. “And this coming from his worst enemy.”

“Who here is a friend to anyone else? We will wait another week. Unfortunately we have no devices able track him and we can’t waste personal energy searching the planet for him. Whether he shows or not the course of history will be decided.”

The meeting ended and once again Sero was the last to leave the room. He sat for a while sipping his club soda, the brown skin and green eyes of his human host seeming to clash even more in his worried expression. He’d been so sure Zan would come. Sero had agreed to his conditions. Even now the Skins were being hunted and routed out. Had something happened to the Shizon? Was he dead? Or worse – did some of Deshamos Skin comrades have him? Sero got up and paced. Maybe he should attempt to find him despite what he told the others. They probably intended to do the same anyway. After all, even though they were the chosen peacemakers, they were all still enemies. No ‘scouts’ honor’ bound them. Sero suspected that any of them would try to kill Zan if they found him. And that couldn’t happen. If there was anyway to get Zan back to the summit proceedings within the week, he had to find a way to do it.

Or Sero himself would be ordered to kill the Shizon.

***** ***** *****

Rath could barely keep his dry eyes open when the wind hit them through the passenger side window. He didn’t trust Lonnie not to try to kill him as he slept so he made himself stay at least half-awake at all times. They had exchanged very few words since leaving New York, and she drove almost as fast as he did, which wasn’t a problem in and of itself. It’s just that he didn’t want to find Zan’s desert-dwelling dupe. Thoughts of Zan wouldn’t leave Rath alone. The memory that came with that awful headache warred with the present reality. He and Zan had actually been close like brothers and the idea was gnawing at him. It was overwhelming his mind to be occupied with something other than screwing, partying, fighting and eating – in that order. He hoped this weirdness in him wasn’t a permanent change cuz it didn’t feel good. He felt out of place in Lonnie’s ruthless plans too.

If they met this Max Evans kid, it would be like meeting a ghost and being part of a second backstab. Rath’s mouth twisted in disgust as his fingers drummed a staccato beat on the side mirror. See, that’s what he was talking about! When had he ever worried about backstabbing anybody? Why was this - whatever - happening to him now?

Suddenly, Lonnie swerved off the empty highway without slowing down much from 100mph into a field of tall grass.

“Yo, what the f*ck is up?!”

She switched off the ignition. “Sex. Now. I’m so horny it’s getting on my nerves.” She grabbed him by the nape and ground her lips against his. At first he wasn’t into it, but as she reached down between them and roughly unzipped his pants, he realized one thing hadn’t changed. Rath yanked her onto his lap and she twisted around deftly, straddling him like a black widow spider closing in for the kill. Freak that she was, she wore no underwear and their crude, animalistic coupling shook the car. It was as nasty as ever and he was loving every second of it. Yeah, he was still a total dog.

Just before he came hard, he fleetingly wondered if he had he been this way in his other life as well.




TBC…



posted on 6-Jul-2002 12:48:48 PM
quote:
Wayliz originally wrote:

I REALLY miss Zan *sad*.
I just love everything about him. PLEASE! PLEASE!! restore him soon *bounce*


Do I dare spoil you, Wayliz? I think I'll make an exception - sorta. Zan has been 'gone' so long that I must tell you that he shall be back - sorta (LOL) - in part twenty-five. But what will he be like?? What will he look like?? We shall have to wait and see! Hee-Heeeee!
posted on 16-Jul-2002 6:21:45 PM
Thanks for asking, for posting, for bumping, for waiting and...for not screaming. lol Okay, I said Peach's honor and I didn't deliver. Oh forgive me please! I got a lot of stuff (or maybe not enough stuff) going on in my li'l life. Plus, I was catsitting at someone's house for a couple days. Here's the deal: part twenty-five, the rough draft, is written - written, written, written. I still have to type it though which means editing galore. I need until Sunday, July 21 - late - to post it. I really don't mean to make y'all wait like this. Omigooo *sad*

See y'all Sunday! And if you can't believe it 'til you read it, just visit the thread and check. Hee-Hee!

--PB

PS - Hey Netty, nice pic of JB! *big*



posted on 21-Jul-2002 10:37:31 PM
The chapter didn't go altogether the way I thought. Zan is a little illusive, but...here it is! Feed me back, feed me back! *happy*



part twenty-five


The soft blue light was a call to prayer and she obeyed it without hesitation. Come to Me, My child, and I will come to you. The interior of St. Elizabeth’s Church was cool and it soothed Syn’s heated flesh as she knelt before the Blessed Sacrament nestled in the monstrance upon the altar. Her soul implored Him, her lips begged Him for mercy – not for herself but for her brother, Mackenzee, and…her man, her alien, Zan Kapol shar-Kelos Hodd because if her faith meant anything then God was Lord over all creatures on this planet and on any other. The beads of the rosary slipped one by one through her fingertips until she came to the last prayer and when she was through she simply knelt there before Him listening, waiting…trusting.

Finally she exited the church, uncertain of what she’d find or do once she got home, but it didn’t matter cuz she had the peace inside to deal with it – for now.

As she walked down the street folding her arms over the thin jacket she wore, bracing herself against a chilly breeze, Syn thought about Angel. She had the sneaking suspicion that he was her guardian angel. Strangely the dog had no colors that she could remember but he smelled like ‘goodness’. So she thanked God for sending Angel – whatever he was.

When she turned onto her block she immediately saw Lucia standing on the front steps, glaring at her approach.

“Where the h*ll did you go?!”

“Zan?”

“Hasn’t moved a muscle. So? Where?

“Church.”

“Church?! Look, we’re dealing with kind of a major situation, Syndara. If God can’t hear you from right here, He’s losing His touch. Now will you please get in here so we can do whatever we’re gonna do? Thank you!” Lucia turned sharply and went inside with Syn following, unperturbed. Entering her apartment she went directly over to Zan and held his face in her hands. Syn didn’t see his ugliness, his charcoal countenance. She closed her eyes and reached in, pressing insistently against his hot wall of pain. He resisted her.

~Zan, please let me in! Let me help you. Tell me what - !~

~Syn, get…out…let me…go…can’t help… me…let go…love you…love…get out!~


Then he became very hard, squeezing her out. “Zan!” she cried desperately. Wheat tried to pull her away but her skin was too hot.

“Syn, what’s happening? Let go! He’s burning you!”

But Syn held on even tighter. Lucia tried to grab her but screamed when she too was scorched. Suddenly Syn felt an unnatural chill behind her, making her loosen her grip on him. She turned and smothered a scream. The figure standing in the doorway had made no noise whatsoever coming upstairs – impossible on the creaky steps.

“What the f*ck are you?” Wheat demanded.

The young man in sunglasses and a tan trench coat stood was still. Everything about him was conservative and various shades of brown from his straight dark hair to his polished shoes. He took a silent step into the room.

“He asked you a question,” Syn said fiercely, standing protectively in front of the bed. “I don’t know you and I didn’t invite you in.”

“D*mn right!” Lucia piped in shakily, moving beside her. They all turned towards an ominous click.

It was Wheat holding a .38. “You got two seconds, J. Crew.”

The man smiled humorlessly, raising his hands in mock submission. “Then I won’t waste more than one. I am known around here as Korn.”

“And that means what exactly?” Syn demanded, not giving an inch.

“It means I am Zan’s protector and it means that I know that you know what I’m talking about, little human.”

“This is the protector? Another alien?” Lucia questioned, puzzled.

“The one and only. And yes.”

“Yo, Syn, am I popping him or what?” Wheat asked.

“I’m programmed to know when Zan is hurt and to find him when he is.”

Syn stared him down coldly, then stepped back so he could see Zan. “Great, you know he’s hurt and you’ve found him. Now what can you do for him?”

Korn approached the bed, his lips curling in distaste. Zan was burned to bacon crisp. His stomach was still sour form the drugs and he had to will himself not to gag. D*mn. “Very little by the looks of him.”

“He’s alive and he’s in pain, so if you’re a protector, then f*cking protect him, d*mn you!”

Lucia held on tightly to Syn.

“I see my reputation has proceeded me.” He pulled the healing stones out of his pockets. “Step back further.” He turned glowing obsidian eyes on Wheat. “You want to put that weapon down?” Wheat slowly did so.

“Um, what are you going to do?” Lucia asked when the stones started to glow. “I mean, what you’re getting ready to do isn’t going to hurt any humans in here, right?”

“Right,” he replied, looking at Syn, “I suspect the king wouldn’t like that. In fact – what’s your name?”

“Syn.”

Korn raised his eyebrows. “Indeed?”

“S-y-n.”

He looked around at the others. “Are you all his – acquaintances?”

“Yeah, we are,” said Wheat defiantly.

“Well then, 007, help me heal him. You and Syn can each take a stone. And the Spice Girl over there…” --Lucia’s fear dwindle away and she gave him a warning look.-- “…just don’t scream.”

“Don’t worry about me, alien dude. Just do what you gotta do and get out of our lives forever, k?”

Standing at the foot of the bed, Korn directed Syn to stand at Zan’s right and Wheat at his left. Then he closed his eyes and stretched his arms forward. “Do as I do. Just hold the stones up. Concentrate on mixing yourself with the energy of the stone in your hand and travel with it into Zan.”

Syn glanced worriedly at Zan. “How - ?”

“Just relax and will it.”

She exchanged an uncertain look with Wheat before closing her eyes. The only sound in the room then was the low hum of the green glowing stones and the clicking sound of Lucia biting her nails.

Behind Syn’s eyelids darkness became soft green became…it looked like the grass covered Austrian mountain in the opening scene of “The Sound of Music”. There was an uneven circle etched into the grass on the slope of the hill. There Zan lay as if asleep in the center and her heart skipped two beats and thumped heavily at the sight of him – whole, smooth-skinned, strong…beautiful. She, Wheat and Korn stood in a wide triangle around him and just outside the circle. He was dressed in what he’d worn when he kissed her goodbye in the hospital. Her impulse was to rush to his side but Korn’s voice in her head said ~ Don’t lower your arms. Keep the stone up and keep concentrating. This illusion is part of the healing. He’s still burnt beyond all recognition. Stay still and let me do what I need to do…Yes, like that…good…~ Suddenly the mage of Zan elevated about a foot from the grass and slowly turned clockwise, gaining speed until he was just a blur…

Syn didn’t know how long it lasted but she awakened on her couch with Lucia leaning over her with tearful eyes. “Thank God you’re awake! You’ve been out for, like, two hours.” She struggled to sit up. “Shh, slow down. It’s alright.”

“Lucia, what happened? Where’s Zan?”

“He’s still here.”

“Wheat?”

“I’m over here.” He sat exhausted in a chair.

She stood too quickly and wobbling on her feet, she went over to her bed, frowning. Zan had changed. He still looked dead but somehow less than before. His skin was no longer shriveled, hard, and shapeless, but he was still nearly unrecognizable. Syn whipped around. “Where is Korn?”

“He left. He said he’d be back.” Wheat paused awkwardly, reluctant to continue.

***** ***** *****

Korn looked around nervously. The store was about to open, but he had no choice. He was still weak so it’d been hard to sneak into Bloomingdale’s like this. He watched the orb on the wall blink and bleep and the metallic outline of the emissary begin to form. Nervous. It was more like a feeling of dread whenever he was responsible for anything important. He always just knew he’d f*ck it up somehow. Or maybe it was just that he still felt like upchucking. But on the other hand emergencies of this sort kept his mind off the next high for a while. All he knew for certain was that he was d*mn glad he found the stones in that gutter. But look! – The metallic paper was peeled away from the inside to reveal the emissary – a dark brown-skinned man with startling green eyes. It spoke immediately.

“You are not the Shizon.”

“No, I’m his protector. What is your name?”

The green eyes examined him and his surroundings carefully before he answered. “Sero Niz de-Keed of Dagaz Reyy. Who chose such a public place for this orb? It makes no sense.”

Korn’s eyes widened. “You’re – one of the peacemakers. You can’t possibly be the emissary too.”

“The emissary is only a go-between. We don’t need it if one of us can come personally. Take me to Zan now.”

Korn eyed him suspiciously for a moment and thought ‘what the h*ll?’ He’d just have to take a chance here. “If you or anyone else wants peace in Satesia ever again, I need a full weapons and medic ship right now.”

Sero tensed. “Are you saying Zan needs medical attention?”

“I’m saying he’s dying while we’re standing here chatting.”

“D*mn it!” Sero snatched a small gold communicator out of his pocket and quickly began dialing. “Tell me everything!”

***** ***** *****

Some time later Korn opened the door to Syn’s place and walked in to find Lucia pointing the barrel of the .38 at his face.

Dude! Maybe on Antar y’all just normally appear out of nowhere and nobody gets mad.” She lowered the weapon. “But this ain’t Antar.”

Korn smiled slightly. “My apologies, Spice Girl.”

“Korn, what happened to Zan – or what is happening to him?” Syn demanded impatiently.

Not immediately responding, he checked Zan and pulled a large strange looking cloth out his duffle bag. It was wool on one side and apparently tin foil on the other.

“Answer me! And what’s that for?”

“As you can see the healing stones helped but not enough. He’s got a long way to go. In fact, he’s in more pain now than before because what was hard has been softened and more blood is flowing inside him. He can’t exist like this much longer. I have to take him away. Male human, help me get him into this bag.” Still worn out, Wheat just stared at him.

Denial welled up inside Syn and she wanted to curse him. After all, somehow Zan’s misfortunes were Korn’s fault, right? But…it made sense that he’d have to take Zan away. She didn’t have a choice but to trust Korn with Zan’s welfare. She squeezed her eyes tightly, reaching for any feeling that Korn couldn’t be trusted, that he was lying, but she had no sense of that one way or another. Finally, she relaxed her eyes, taking deep breaths, watching Korn waving a hand over Zan, making him naked. (Lucia covered her eyes. “Omig*d, omig*d…”) He began to rub a strange-smelling ointment all over him. She had no alien powers or medicine. She was only a human synesthete! There was nothing she could do for Zan except pray, but maybe she could still do something for…

Mack! Korn, some alien named ‘Larek’ is using my brother’s body. How can he get rid of him?”

“Hm, interesting. Wherever the king goes, the aliens will follow. After today your brother will be free for good.”

“At least there’s that!” Her voice quavered with a short-lived relief. “I need you to tell me exactly what going to happen to…the king, Korn.”

“The less you know, the better.” Korn wondered why he was giving this human the time of day. He studied her face pinched with strain, eyes darkly luminous and demanding. He wondered what had transpired between her and Zan that made her care so much. Had she been enraptured by his skill at human copulation? He couldn’t imagine only that causing such intense emotion. Anyway, it wasn’t his concern and he didn’t have to waste time answering her questions. She and her two friends were lucky he’d changed his mind about eliminating them, which was actually the responsible thing to do, but…he was just tired – tired of everything. But if there was a chance to free his young sister and brother from slavery, he had to protect the king – more than he had up to now. “This alien world contains nothing that can save him. He either leaves now or dies. It’s as simple as that.” Then he took out some little gadget that looked like a remote control and moved it over the length of Zan’s greased body. The object turned different colors and clicked rhythmically. “The clicks you hear should be beeps,” Korn said grimly. “There really isn’t much more time.”

Wheat slowly moved to assist Korn in easing Zan into the bag, wool side out and Syn rushed over to her bureau, rummaging around frantically through the bottom drawer. When she found what she was looking for, she hesitated only for a second. Her beloved Grandma Sena had given it to her but Syn knew she’d approve of this gesture of love. Approaching the bed, she whispered, not taking her eyes off Zan whose head was still exposed, “May I? Please?” Korn didn’t stop her as she put the silver chain and two-inch crucifix gently around his neck, parts of the chain sliding into cracks in his charred skin. She cried over him, stroked his face, and kissed him, then she finally stepped back.

Korn covered Zan’s head, saying, “Wash your face, and you over there, wash your hands. The ointment is alien, but you won’t be affected – if you wash it off now.”

Wheat had returned to the chair, leaning forward weakly with his head and hands between his knees. Syn stared at the wool covering, mesmerized.

Lucia took hold of Syn. “What the h*ll’s wrong with them?! Are they gonna be alright?”

“Yes. Just wipe them off with plain water.” As Lucia rushed to the kitchen sink grabbing two cloths, Korn carefully picked Zan up and moved towards the door.

“Will he survive? Will you really protect him?” Syn asked dully, her eyes lifeless. She knew she was losing him and that it was the only way.

Korn looked angry. “I will protect him with my life.” He stood in the doorway, holding Zan over his shoulder. With his other hand he held up the same object he scanned the body with, and pressed a button on it. A deep hum vibrated through Syn’s spine and Korn and Zan began to shimmer with a light that slowly became blinding and the humming intensified.

“Syn, get down!” Both Wheat and Lucia snatched her back but she only turned away when her eyes could stand it no longer.

All was quiet again. And the aliens were gone.



TBC...




[ edited 1 time(s), last at 21-Jul-2002 10:39:45 PM ]
posted on 22-Jul-2002 4:30:21 PM
Ahhh, feedback! Thank you, my lovelies! I'll list everyone next time. It's hot and I'm 'outta breff!' But I must post this...

LivE! Let me give you a fruggie (a friendly hug). knuddel Aww, I feel like a chickenbum! (?! lol) I don't mean to bring you down. *sad* The story is going to take a turn for the better in part 26, everyone. Zan will be awake and talking and moving! *bounce*

quote:
b4echstarrynite originally wrote:
cause they should have had dis loooong goodby n 'least made luv 1 mor time!!!


IMPORTANT NOTE:brettainy, Zan and Syn have never...'been together'. Nope! Not once. Is this the scene you mean?:

from part fourteen (I think) - ~A tic started working in Zan's jaw, his hazel eyes wide as he stared down into Syn's matching expression, still absently stroking her cheeks. How long had they been like this? He turned over slowly on his back pulling her on top of him, gently rubbing her. He couldn't believe it! He couldn't believe what they'd just done - what he saw in her. He really saw her and saw her seeing him. And love. So much love - hot, cool, rich, sweet - between them. And more that that, his soul (d*mn, he had one!) intertwined eagerly with hers, and it was a perfect fit. Perfect.~

Then in the next part:

~She looked away from him, licking her lips nervously. "So you, um…healed me - inside. And then you…we…"

"We mated," he finished brusquely, wishing it were true and already tired of questions.

Syn frowned looking up at him. "Mated?" ~

Nope, Zan was just talking. They did have like a 'soul-joining' which is more powerful methinks, but the joining of flesh has not occurred. But for your patience, you will all be richly rewarded. (I know you've all heard this a thousand times, but I mean it! lol)

Let's see if I can kick out part 26 by next Sunday. Is that too soon? lol


[ edited 1 time(s), last at 22-Jul-2002 4:32:33 PM ]
posted on 22-Jul-2002 8:35:34 PM
Thank you so much, Peach Eaters, for your support! knuddel This story would not survive without you. I just want you to know that. *bounce* If I had the means, I'd send Dom Perignon champagne (Did I spell that right?), decadent chocolates from Switzerland, and 'Zan Kapol' to:


Angela35 (Boo-boo-bee-doo! lol)
RoswellJunky
TeddyBehrJKT
LTL
mitra
WhosYrDaddy
Nettygirl
carolina_moon
Moonlit Jade
Cinder
AvengingAngelIQ
LivE
B4echstarrynite
LEL
Wayliz
gizmo
WildBehr

and anyone else I left out
and everyone who's ever posted for this fic.

I need a hanky. *sniff-sniff* I'm so touched! LOL


[ edited 1 time(s), last at 22-Jul-2002 8:36:28 PM ]
posted on 23-Jul-2002 12:20:50 AM
PandaBehr! Awww...Dom Perignon, decadent chocolates from Switzerland and Zan Kapol for you too! LOL Thank you for that inspiring post. I need to light a fire under my non-existent efforts to write my novel. You've just given me another push in that direction.*angel* Bless you!
posted on 23-Jul-2002 11:43:22 PM
angelsroswell99, I enjoyed meeting you too! *big*

Into The Woods, I blush. lol Thank you so much. *angel*

I hope you all continue to enjoy this as much as I enjoy writing it. There's been some agony with this fic, but the ecstasy's been wonderful!

posted on 28-Jul-2002 5:23:25 PM
Happy Sunday, Roswellians!

TFTFB! A thousand times over! And thanks to whoever has read, enjoyed, but hasn't left feedback. After all, I'm not just writing this for me. If you're enjoying it in anonymity, it's good enough for me (as long as I have a couple regular feedbackers for the encouragement I always desperately need. lol)

LivE, I really shouldn't spoil you, should I? But after what I went through during certain parts of my dear Roswell, I feel it's merciful to tell you that there will not be a ten year war separating Z/S. Even as angsty as I've been writing lately, that's just too much for me!

angelsroswell99, oooo I don't like to make people cry! *sad* We'll all need some joy here soon, right? Yes. How soon? Gah, I can't write fast enough.

sugarplum17, I am definitely not trying to drag this out. I want peaches and strawbehries too - right now! But this story has developed a life of its own. I'm enslaved!

PandaBehr I know what you mean. I like discovering a fic on here that has about 10 chapters posted already. It's like - Yippeee! I can read straight through without waiting. I'll try to keep this in mind. But I have not one but two other fics at my heels. One is a challenge I said I'd try to meet and the other is a Rebounder fic that probably only two people (including myself) will read. lol Tess just isn't popular around here, but I have a - shall I say? - Dreamer-friendly concept of Tess - the way she should have been written all along. Or at least one of the ways she could have been written. Again don't let me get started! lol



[ edited 2 time(s), last at 28-Jul-2002 5:26:58 PM ]
posted on 25-Aug-2002 12:20:03 AM
part twenty-seven



Courtney’s lips curled into a sneer even though Lonnie’s chokehold had tightened. Never would she reveal the location of the transport just so Lonnie could take the wrong Rath back to Antar. Never!

“Skin b*tch, I will kill you if you don’t tell me what I wanna know!”

“Go on and kill her then! She’s not gonna talk and she’s the one who shot my f*ckin eye out,” Rath said, tapping his eye patch. Truth was sometimes he forgot he didn’t have it.

Lonnie was at the end of her patience and she took only minimal satisfaction in squeezing Courtney’s trachea until the Skin emitted a gurgling sound. She, Rath and Max arrived back in New York only to find that everybody was gone. No aliens, no orbs anywhere – as if the aliens decided the rest of the royals were worthless without Zan! Larek with his two-faced self obviously didn’t try to extend the peace council’s stay and just left her. Well, they hadn’t seen the last of her – not by a long shot! Lost for a minute in her rage Lonnie barely felt Courtney clawing into her arm. No way was the Princess of Antar going out like this! She was destined to be the frickin Queen and not a f*ckin thing was gonna change that!

“Listen, I’m asking you for the last time – how do we get to Antar?! I know you know!”

Eyes bulging, Courtney was sweating profusely but she gave the princess ‘the bird’ with relish. Rath pulled a grape Blowpop from his mouth. “This b*tch is unbelievable, man.” Lonnie snapped Courtney’s neck and yanked the plug from her back before she threw the body down. He shook his head in disgust as it melted into green goo. “Straight outta f*ckin Gremlins.”

“Come on. We gotta get back to Max before he flies the coop.”

“It was your idea to leave him there. I bet the kid jet.”

“No, he ain’t jet. He’s Mister Straight and Responsible. Psh! This super-tight-ass version of Zan freaks me the f*ck out. The sooner we find a way home, the sooner I can get rid of him. There’s just gotta be some more aliens around!”

***** ***** *****

Milton, another Skin – real name: classified - , had eagerly watched the entire scene in the alley below. He was tired of running and had finally decided to surrender when he discovered that there was no one left to surrender to. His communications device didn’t work and he couldn’t find an alien anywhere. The point of the Skin faction, conceived and led by the ruthless Deshamos Sartor, was to quickly eliminate the hybrid Antarian royals by any means necessary. Actually, Milton’s goal had been to seek high adventure but he’d gotten quickly bored with the military stuff. Something happened to his squad’s ship and they crash-landed 1500 kilometers away from their destination. Now that was interesting - a bunch of clueless aliens (in makeshift husks) hitchhiking down and across America on Route 66 – living off grass and tree bark. Shees! Anyway, after his squad finally reached Roswell, New Mexico and scoured the area unsuccessfully for the royal babies for a year, they received orders to return to their point of origin because there had possibly been a duplication deposited nearby. By that time, Milton had had enough and hid until they abandoned the search for him. Then he fashioned a husk from a human named Milton ? so that he could take over his alien museum. He’d found it interesting and even seriously added to the collection, putting his alien life behind him for the most part. He knew there’d be an opportunity to return home if he chose to. It didn’t matter. He’d go wherever the wind blew. Well, a tornado came in the form of Deshamos and a bunch of really roughneck Skins descending on Roswell like the Satesian War would finally be settled there! When everybody in town disappeared into a massive time ripple, Milton knew it was time to go or be discovered. To make a long story short – he was minding his own business in the Chicago jazz scene when Dagaz Reyy troops came sweeping in and killing every Antarian Skin in sight who didn’t immediately surrender to them – without alerting the humans of course. This could only mean the mighty Sero Niz de-Keed was behind it. Something big had to be going down in Satesia. Sero still had a handful of people on the planet, right here in New York – just to clean up the crumbs. Milton didn’t feeling like fighting or dying – ergo, his present situation…

***** ***** *****

Lonnie and Rath continued walking down Canal Street until they felt another alien presence and Milton stepped out from the shadows in front of them, speaking immediately. “Courtney wouldn’t help you, but I will because we all want the same thing – transportation to Antar.”

“Who the f*ck are you?” Rath demanded.

“Milton.”

“Milton who, what, why, man? Or do you want your neck snapped too?”

“I’m a Skin. I know where a ship is and I’ll take you to it.”

Lonnie’s eyes narrowed. “If you’re a Skin, why are you volunteering to help us? You know who we are, right?”

“Yes.” Milton bowed slightly. “Princess Vilondra Kapol and Commander Dorrath Kees-Vetalion.”

g*dd*mn! It’s a wonder they didn’t end us before we hatched from the frickin pods. Everybody and their ho know who we is!”

Lonnie held a hand up to silence him, her eyes boring into Milton. “Talk – Milton.”

“There’s an old Antarian ship at the base of the Catskill Mountains.”

“Well – “

“It won’t fly…”

Rath stepped threateningly towards him. “Man, you jerkin us around!” Actually, he couldn’t care less about the d*mn ship. He just didn’t trust this Skin who popped up out of nowhere. Lonnie was so greedy and hyped that she’d follow a talking dog up a tree to get the d*mn throne of Antar.

Milton produced a disk as large as a CD from his jean jacket pocket. “…without this.”

“What is it? Talk!”

“This is basically the left brain of the ship I was on. I took it because I was suspicious of my squadmates. They didn’t seem to like me much and I wanted to make sure that I wouldn’t get left behind when the mission to eliminate you was over.” This was all true, but he got sidetracked and never gave it back. Oops. What he didn’t tell the royals was that he had the ‘right brain’ of the ship (to be inserted after take-off) hid in one of his body cavities and it was getting very uncomfortable. He wasn’t giving them a chance to leave him either. It was time to go home.

Rath was getting impatient watching Lonnie try to stare a hole through the dude. Should he just kill her now before she decided to kill him? He was undecided and the question was whirling around in his brain like a dog chasing its tail. He barely heard her cold demand that Milton take them to the ship – sh*t, if there even was a ship. Milton might still be on his ‘mission’ for all they knew. There was too much funny stuff going on and some of it had to go – starting with their new Skin friend here. Rath decided he would definitely kill him when the time was right.

Together the three of them made their way back to the edge of Chinatown. He and Lonnie had left Max underground in the pod crib. Max. He was the another variable in the equation. Rath couldn’t read him. It was only clear that Max was a stiffer preppy version of Zan (Gawd! Now there’s a frickin nightmare!) and he didn’t quite trust them. So what should he do about him?

***** ***** *****

Many light years away…

Zan felt peculiar. He was lighter and stronger. Unstable energy pulsed through him, making him want to fly at a crazy speed above the clouds, into space, past time, and finally into her arms. He looked down at his shaking hands, glowing bright as a light bulb and when he turned to the mirror, he saw an alien – wearing a crucifix, a prayer from the one he wanted. Slowly he pressed it deeper into his chest until it was hidden.

~It will take some time, Your Highness, to get acclimated to your natural form,~ said Korn, standing beside him.

Zan looked at him, mildly surprised. Korn also had reverted to his natural form as a shapeshifter. They looked alike except Korn didn’t shine like the sun. And he was wrong. Zan didn’t feel natural. He felt a danger and he going to act on it.

Korn shifted uneasily under the king’s stare, wondering if Zan knew how magnificent his aura was or how strong he had truly become. The heat emanating from him was beginning to overwhelm the shapeshifter. ~Zan…the council is waiting for you.~

~You have a sister and brother in bondage, correct?~

~Yes,~
Korn said huskily, startled at the mention of them.

~What are their names?~

~Ena and Hadad.~

~I have an assignment for you. You will return to Earth as a protector. ~


Korn blinked in confusion. ~I’m – ? Who am I protecting?~

~A human.~

~What?? I can’t! ~
The very idea was demeaning, preposterous and unheard of! But Zan’s heat blazed forth and, lowering his voice, Korn changed his tone but he questioned insistently, ~Who? Why? ~

~Syndara Morgan. If you do, I will secure your family’s freedom when your assignment is over.~

~When will that be?~
Korn wanted to turn away from the hard glitter in his eyes.

~When I tell you in person. But know this…if you f*ck up with her the way you did with us, I will create a special hell just for you and your family. Do you understand me?~

Korn quickly bowed low before him. ~Yes, Your Highness.~

***** ***** *****

Max was having second, third and fourth thoughts. He gripped armrests that obviously weren’t made for humans as he watched the shapeshifter called ‘Milton’ up front press buttons and flick switches with Lonnie and Rath sitting close beside him. The ship lifted from the cavern floor inside the mountain. It was too late to change his mind and they wouldn’t let him go now without a fight. But strangely he knew this was both a mistake and not a mistake. If he was the main one the aliens were after, why did the others’ have to be affected? He was sick of living in fear - of who he was, of what would happen if anyone else on Earth or off Earth found out. That kind of fear killed slowly and he didn’t wish it on anyone – least of all the group of people he cared about. Michael and Isabel…g*d! He wished he could take back that last argument they’d had. He’d never exchanged such ugly words with them – especially Isabel – in all his life. What happened?

And then of course there was Liz.

The ship rumbled and rattled and Milton looked nervous, mumbling something about ‘this might not work’. Max felt numb. He was trusting destiny because he was completely off his axis. He wouldn’t be here if he was thinking straight, but he had the feeling he would survive this trip. As for what would happen when he reached their destination…well, what was the point of worrying? He’d find out soon enough. He didn’t trust the Dupes. Liz was right. Absolutely right.

Liz. There would always be Liz. He’d never get over her and he didn’t want to. He wouldn’t forget because remembering her and their time together and all the things they did was the only thing good thing in his life right now. Remembering gave him hope. Max thought he didn’t want that hope, but now he held onto it for all it was worth.

The ship was pointing straight up and moving at an incredible speed. Max felt like he was on a ride at an amusement park and as the feeling intensified, he became more and more disoriented. His last thought was that maybe someday he and Liz could…could be…

A smothering blackness enveloped him.

***** ***** *****

On the Eslonn moon…

Korn cautiously preceded Zan into the council room. Something was alarming him and he couldn’t figure out what. Nothing in particular was out of place in the large metallic gray room. In the very center was a overly wide round table around which sat all of the glowing representatives. But something was so wrong – ominously wrong. Korn eyed the blank faces turned towards him. No, this meeting couldn’t happen. The king was in danger. He backed out slowly and the door slid shut after his exit, muffling the impatient protests coming from the table.

~There’s a problem in there, ~ Zan stated before Korn spoke.

~Yes. Someone, if not all of them, is up to something. It’s too dangerous. ~

~The meeting has to happen. You just need to be on point. You still doped up or what? ~


Korn’s addiction was a sore spot and he could barely keep the resentment from his voice. ~I am clean!~

Zan put a hand on his forehead, making the shapeshifter wince. When he was satisfied, he turned him loose. ~We’re going in.~

There was complete silence as they approached the round table where the reps stood in their places and bowed when Zan came near. It was a reluctantly executed formality. A thick tension surrounded them all.

~He doesn’t belong here,~ Deshamos said, gesturing to Korn, his tone just short of belligerence. He was lividly jealous of Zan’s brightness. It was the same sh*t as before - his frickin cousin outshining him one way or another. Well, it wasn’t going to happen…

Korn looked to Zan who nodded and the shapeshifter walked away to stand beside the door but didn’t leave the room.

~Welcome, Shizon, ~ said Sero quietly. ~Shall we begin?~




TBC…



posted on 25-Aug-2002 12:53:27 AM
Hi, angelsroswell99! Thanks for posting. Hee-Hee! Let's see if I can get 28 out in a timely manner. Send in the e-vibes (never the a-vibes)! *angel*
posted on 1-Sep-2002 6:31:40 PM
Shout-outs for posting to

LivinInCin
ukspacegirl
alienmom
Wayliz
mitra
Heatwave
(You might have to settle for a Zan dupe. Syn won't let him go!)
carolina_moon
LTL
(OTO Queen of Oogy Lady is here!)
Sputnik1812 (I hope all the questions get answered. I feel like I'm just along for the ride! lol)
Moonlit Jade
Alien614
StarryEyedGypsy
(Wow! I'm honored that you read my li'l ficcy straight through and that it entertained you! Now you may have to suffer like the rest cuz I'm not known for kicking out the chapters quickly. lol)
CrashdownAntarianGirl
Miliana72
(I like visiting New York but the somewhat rude crowds tired me out. Alas! No Zan lookalikes in sight. They must have been to all the clubs I didn't go to since I didn't go to any. lol)
and to anyone I left out and all fans of the fic.
Your support means so very much. *bounce*

Roswellians, I need another week. Are you surprised? LOL Seriously, where is this story going? spineyes The Writer must return to the beginning to find out so...the next chapter should be posted by next Sunday evening. I'm shooting for earlier. Thanks for the e-vibes; send more!

posted on 6-Sep-2002 9:02:53 PM
Guess what. I know I said I was posting this weekend but...I haven't finished re-reading the fic up to part twenty-seven yet! This is something I need to do so that Zan and Syn can tell me what's going to happen to them next. I just don't know! Plus, I'm exhausted from work! I'm so tired I look like this: eek I wish I could quit my job so that I could devote more time to writing. *sigh* Can any of you ever forgive me? *sad* I am sorry. bawl

--PB drowning in agony vibes!
posted on 7-Sep-2002 6:56:51 AM
quote:
Gagnes Girl originally wrote:
I guess I can 4 give u! but I wuz really lookin 4 ward 2 a new part this weekend. I kno real life sux....plzzz post soon!!!

laura


Thanks for being understanding! *happy*

Everyone, I will try to make the wait worth it. *angel*
posted on 15-Sep-2002 7:49:29 PM
Sputnik and Heatwave, your ecstasy vibe-acious posts are soothing balms to my agony-ridden mind! I'll make no solid promises this time but next Sunday is looking good - so far. Gaddy-ack! Will I ever finish mah po' li'l ficcy? cry

I'll try to look forward with faith...daisy
posted on 21-Sep-2002 9:32:39 AM
Sputnik, Alien614, gizmo, GWN and everyone... Don't hate me, y'all. Just dropping in to let you know that I am actually writing part twenty-eight. My excuse for the delay? All I can say is my life, ah, my life

Peace, Roswellians. And come back again in week. Please! *angel*

*bounce*
posted on 5-Oct-2002 8:52:55 PM
Okay, tomorrow is Sunday and I'm posting whatevere I have by tomorrow night. I can't stand it anymore! I know you're saying, "Sure, sure you're posting. Riiiiight." LOL But I really am. Whatever I have by tomorrow night is getting posted before I lose my mind. *shy*
posted on 5-Oct-2002 8:54:08 PM
EDITED: Now I know I'm nuts. I'm repeating myself!

[ edited 1 time(s), last at 5-Oct-2002 9:03:54 PM ]
posted on 6-Oct-2002 9:04:51 PM
Authors Note: I reread this fic from part one and whew!what an amateur am I! LOL I apologize for inconsistencies in spelling and/or plotting. Please enjoy what you can. Thanks for all your patience and not chewing me out for the extreme delay. You're all *angel**angel*. This chapter is short and kinda chewed up I think. Can Pinky get her groove back? That remains to be seen. Until we meet againpeace! *happy*




part twenty-eight



Zan was calm as Hanar once again recited the opening formalities of the peace summit. He carefully observed each of the representatives, all staring at him in return. No sooner did Hanar seat himself when Kathana asked, “Shizon, where is the granolith?”

Zan let the tense expectant silence lengthen. After making his conversion to the light all of his memories were restored. Or rather it was more like he, the Zan hybrid, received all of the original Zan’s knowledge and he was glad that he didn’t actually become King Zan Kapol. Anyway, he would not give up the granolith under any circumstances – which was just as well since –

“As I said before I don’t know.”

There was agitated murmuring as she continued caustically. “What do you mean, you don’t know? The granolith is the key to everything! This peace summit is a mockery without it.”

“This peace summit is a mockery, period,” said Deshamos. “While you’re screeching about the Almighty Cone, you’re overlooking the fact that I’m sitting here representing Khivar Sorhl-Daumeyn, King of Antar. We can’t have two kings of Antar and peace in the Gamma sector. Eh, see the problem?”

Sero’s eyes narrowed. “Deshamos, you are not going to derail this meeting by bringing up a solely Antarian issue. The duties of a Shizon can be carried out separately from any other title he or she has, as you well know.”

“Fine, fine,” Hanar interrupted. “But the granolith. We still must have it.”

“Who must have it, Hanar? It’s a weapon of mass destruction. I thought we were talking about peace,” Zan queried.

You mustn’t have it, Zan. That’s the point!” Kathana practically shouted. “It has to be placed in a secure, neutral place!”

Deshamos sneered mocking. “No, he wants everyone to lay down their arms and then he’ll be able to rule the entire Caydah Galaxy. A weapon of mass destruction? No, enemy mine. It is the weapon of mass destruction this side of the universe.” His light rippled aggressively and all traces of humor left him. “And I’m not handing the universe over to him on a golden plate. No granolith, no summit, no peace.”

Larek finally broke his silence, tapping the table. “As a weapon the granolith can’t be operated by one being. It’s a complicated machine in that respect. As a source o f information and transportation it’s much easier to use.” He paused. “I believe the Shizon when he says he doesn’t know where it is. At any rate, it requires many keys for use as a weapon.”

Sero frowned impatiently. “How many keys and where are they?”

“Probably scattered all over the universe.”

“How the kuggot do you know, Larek?” Kathana snapped. “I mean, you always sit there catatonic, and now all of a sudden you know everything. Explain.”

Larek smiled slightly. “Can I help it if you don’t know what’s common knowledge, Kathana?”

“Are you saying everyone knows about this but me?”

“Don’t let Melledaan play with your head,” Hanar cautioned. “Let’s stick to the issues.”

“For all we know Larek’s got the granolith himself!”

Zan was through listening. “Stop. For the last time I don’t know where it is and I wouldn’t tell you even if I did. And if anyone else who knows how to use it had it, we’d know by now, so forget about the d*mn granolith. Look, here’s my peace plan –“ Zan explained to them the concessions that each planet would make, the new trade routes and which council member of which courts should be removed from office. Then he laid the big one on them in a tone that brooked no argument. “The enslavement and sale of children in the Satesia-Kieohl and in the entire Gamma sector ends now.”

There was a stunned silence broken finally by an oddly complacent note in Sero’s voice, “I’m wondering if you really want peace, Zan.”

Deshamos grinned and pointed at Zan. “He’s lost his entire mind.” Then he burst out laughing.

“Did I hear you right?” Kathana’s aura grew splotchy. “You can’t be serious! This is no time to joke.”

Hanar shook his head wearily, muttering to himself, “I knew it. I knew something would go wrong. But this?”

“Zan, do you know what you’re saying?” Larek demanded in a hard voice.

Zan studied him, wondering how he could have been close friends with this alien. Looking at him, he felt nothing. “Yes, I know what I’m saying, Larek. I even know what I said.”

“Then you’re crazy! You don’t just take away a main produce that supports a couple trillion lives just because suddenly you don’t approve! It’s not an option.”

A cold glitter entered Zan’s eyes. “You’ve lost your composure, prince. Naturally, you’re forgetting a few things, so here’s a refresher. I am the Shizon. My words are the only conditions for peace. Hear me. Child slavery, sanctioned child abuse, ends now. Either we all agree and restore our home worlds or we can continue to kill each other until there’s no one left to sell children. Make your decision.”

“Don’t end it like this, Zan,” Larek said slowly moving a hand to his side under the table, a move the Shizon didn’t miss.

Zan placed his hand on a flat silver piece in front of him etched with his Shizonate and royal Kapolite seals. When it glowed as brightly as his hand, a point of light extended from it and dropped like liquid into a 12-centimeter hole in the center of the table. By this he was agreeing to his own terms. “Who wants peace?”

Sero slowly repeated the action and after a pregnant pause when it looked like Hanar was about to acquiesce, Larek flipped backwards over his chair into a crouched position, “Mirr does not agree to the terms!”

At that point everyone pushed away from the table as Larek began firing hard beams from his hands. Multicolored shields went up as all manner of beams ricocheted off the walls with the most thunderous noise. Kathana and Deshamos moved to Larek’s side against Zan, Sero and Hanar, but Zan trusted no one. He had to get to a ship and go to Antar immediately. As much as he wanted to stay and kill his present enemies, especially Deshamos, he couldn’t completely risk getting himself killed now. He had to end the civil conflict by removing Khivar off the throne and then personal ratify the law protecting the children. He aimed retreating fire and dropped his shield long enough to send the huge center table flying at the enemy.

“Leave here! We’ll cover you!” Sero shouted over the din.

Just at that moment Korn came rushing past Zan in attack speed towards Larek who was closest, but Zan snatched him backwards towards the locked door. The two combined their powers to melt a small hole into it and slipped through. There was no time to talk so Zan grabbed Korn’s head and sent detailed electrical impulses of instructions into his brain. Korn almost sank to his knees because it hurt like h*ll, but Zan was already running to the dock, dragging him to an S-wing fighter.

“Snap out of it and move!”

Korn vaulted into action and fled swiftly into the midnight sky in the cloaked ship. Zan didn’t look away until it disappeared and a commotion grew louder behind him. He leaped into a smaller transport, the Colin, known for its speed and difficulty to lock onto as a target and took off with the other aliens hot on his tail.

***** ***** *****

Max awoke groggily, a strange smoke making him cough. Lights inside the ship were blinking madly. It felt like it was resting on a steep incline. They crashed. Out of the corner of his eye he saw motion as he struggled to get up off the floor. When he turned around Rath was standing in front of him, staring.

“Looks like we’re home, yo.” He took hold of his arm. “The door must be busted open. Let’s go.”

“Where’s Lonnie and the Skin?”

“H*ll if I know, man. And I ain’t gonna choke to death here trying to find out. They could be somewhere breathing easy wondering the same thing about us.”

Max doubted Lonnie was wondering any such thing. She was cold and ruthless. She was what Isabel would be without the kindness under her protectively cool exterior.

Rath doubted it too. He knew Lonnie was more dangerous to him personally the closer she got to the throne room. And they were all close. She could be waiting to ambush him as soon as he stepped out of the ship. But he had Max Evans with him and she still needed Dupe Zan for the council to give her the time of day.

The hatch was definitely open because the air was getting thinner inside. Now where were those breathing masks Milton was talking about? Rath located several inside a jarred-open panel under the central monitor and gave one to Max.

“Here. Put this on so you can breathe.”

They were making their way through the broken ship towards a light when suddenly Max stopped and said, “Do you feel that? It’s liiiiiiiiiiiiiikkke…”

“Yooooooooo…!”

By an unseen force they were frozen in place, their molecules were separated and beamed out of the ship.

***** ***** *****

Zan stealthily moved through the hallways of his own palace which he hadn’t seen for decades and he was disgusted. Khivar had it looking like a bordello – a porno version of Aladdin. No one saw through his disguise as a guard yet. He had to work hard to dim his brightness a little and his humanity was an extra weight he carried. It was like perpetual exercise. When he landed on the northwestern equator dock of Antar he had no trouble at all getting past the sentinels and that bothered him. Everything he saw in the streets told him that Antar was under a sloppy rule. Zan decided he wouldn’t waste time going through the formality of the courts to get the throne back. He would remove the traitor himself – now.

He wondered where the reps were. It took some daredevil flying for him to shake his pursuers. Deshamos had probably already warned Khivar about him. Or maybe he hadn’t by the relaxed look of things. Khivar was partying the kingdom away and playing extreme dictator. He could lead the people in battle but he had no respect or understanding of them during peacetime because he had no respect or understanding of peace. Of course the ease with which Zan was able to make it this far could be a classic trap but he felt that it wasn’t.

He sensed so much. Syn had marked him intimately, gave him something of herself. He saw what he sensed in colors. Pausing against the wall in an alcove, he breathed in and out deliberately until the wave a longing died down. Feeling human love hurt his Antarian body. It was an alien emotion to this alien species. But anger wasn’t and it surged through him, fed by frustration. The taste of her wouldn’t leave him and she was so far away…

Zan made his way to the master suite and stood silently at the door, knowing an alarm system of some kind would be tripped if he blasted his way through. He hated waiting but that’s exactly what he had to do…but apparently not for long. He slipped back into the shadows when he heard a quick stirring within. His now acute hearing picked up Khivar’s angry voice…

“What do you mean you lost him? Who’s working with him? Deshamos, don’t lie to me! Find out where his is! Guards!”

The door swiftly opened and Khivar walked out flanked by six men. Zan rushed into their midst, causing a confused uproar as he grabbed Khivar around the neck and pressed the sharp tip of his Evaporator to the dictator’s head. In a deadly calm voice he said, “Stay back. I will kill him.”

“Release me! You…will die…this day, kugg!” Khivar hissed, struggling frantically against Zan’s iron grip, not realizing yet who he was. “Kill him!” His head was jerked back and the look of surprise on his face when he saw his captor was almost comical.

“Remember me, General?”

Khivar’s eyes bulged with denial and rage. “It can’t be you –“ His breathing was briefly interrupted by Zan squeezing harder. “You’re…supposed to be…dead and gone!”

Zan backed slowly out of the circle of guards, his quiet words belying his fiery eyes. “On the contrary I’m very much alive as you can see. Hear me, all of you. I am your king, Zan Kapol. You can either die now with this traitor —“ Zan shook him hard once like a rag doll. “—or live in service to your people and your planet. Choose.”

Khivar laughed even as he continued to struggle. “A hybrid Zan. Ha! What a joke. Everything on this planet has been mine for sixty years! If I die, you die. If I live, you die. No one grovels at the feel of Kapolites anymore because I killed you all! Now kill him, you peturgot bastards! What are you waiting for?!”

Zan stilled and queried with an ugly softness, “Where is my mother?”

“Dead! I wish you could have been here when I squeezed the life out of her body – after my men were through with her, that is.”

The guards began to inch backwards. They recognized the king and were filled with fear as his blank, unholy eyes swept over them before he turned around dragging Khivar with a superalien strength towards a lit Earthlike fireplace used for decoration, not heat. Zan set down the Evaporator and with the same blankness said, “That’s not the kind of death you’ll get to enjoy. And guess what. I’m through talking.” And then Zan, holding him still, slowly put a snarling writhing Khivar, feet first, into the fire, dissolving his light inch by inch. Inhuman screams of agony followed the guards running for their lives down the corridor.


TBC…


(Preview Note: Syn will definitely be back in the next chapter.) *angel*



[ edited 1 time(s), last at 6-Oct-2002 10:00:49 PM ]
posted on 6-Oct-2002 10:05:08 PM
Ahhh, LTL, how are you, ladybird? LOL The reunion...it's coming soon! But I can't say how soon yet. I don't mean to tease!*tongue*
posted on 6-Oct-2002 11:21:25 PM
Hiya, Alien614. Thank you for posting. *happy* Oh, how I love feedback! Yummy!

And thank you too, behrfanny. *big*
quote:
behrfanny originally wrote:

Zan! Follow the yellow brick road Zan! *tongue*


LOL Yes, where is that yellow brick road?

posted on 9-Oct-2002 4:51:43 PM
Wow! I'm so happy that you've all posted such lovely encouragement. Thank you! I'll type personal shout-outs later. I'm at work right now (on my break) and I don't have much time.

I'm eager for a Zan/Syn reunion. How about you? If I write just a little faster, it'll happen sooner. I miss them being together. *sigh*

ttyl!

--PB
posted on 13-Oct-2002 10:20:00 PM
I just want to say to

LTL (Thanks for the lovely postcard!)
behrfanny (Are you still "screencappin' "?)
Alien614
BillyHoliday
angelsroswell99
StarryEyedGypsy
IAmLongTimeFan
Nettygirl
LEL
Moonlit Jade
Heatwave
gizmo
ukspacegirl
Wayliz
LivE
GWN
WhosYrDaddy
dragon7
Cinder
PandaBehr
MamaDee52
Sputnik

and all other fans of this fic --

I couldn't do it without you! Your posts are fuel to the fire and often they start the fire when the hearth seems hopelessly cold. As a writer, I am indebted to you. Hugs for everyone!
knuddel knuddel knuddel

Oh by the way, it was so nice to win the runner up prize for best portrayal of a dupe! Hee-Hee! Here's the banner I was given. Cool, huh? *bounce*

runner-up


[ edited 1 time(s), last at 13-Oct-2002 10:21:28 PM ]
posted on 15-Oct-2002 7:59:44 PM
Let's try to get to that Z/S reunion! This isn't it but the faster I write the sooner it will happen. There's only a little bit of our Syn but she will be back in full soon.




part twenty-nine


In the blink of an eye, Rath and Max stood before two aliens made of pure light and they both reflexively put up their shields, but the aliens were unmoving except the fluctuation of their light. Rath looked briefly over at Max. He had a strange feeling like they had stood side by side against a threat before in perfect accord. He and Zan in perfect accord? Impossible - yet from his flashes he knew it had been so once. And it made him vaguely…sad. Rath shook his head hard to rid himself of the feeling. This was the wrong time to get sappy.

Unruffled by the colorful defensive display, one of the aliens spoke in perfect English without moving his mouth. “Who are you?”

“No, who are you?” Max demanded with more boldness than he felt.

The aliens turned to one another in silent communication and then one said, “You are on Antar at the northwest equator. I am Pradd-vak.”

“I am Yenh.”

“We are true citizens and soldiers loyal to the true king,” Pradd-vak added, watching the earthlings carefully. “Who are you?”

Rath found himself waiting for Max to answer for them both. Amazing.

“I am M-…Zan. And this is Rath.”

“Dorrath Kees-Vetalion - the Chancellor,” Rath corrected.

After a tense silence Pradd-vak said in a low voice, “You are claiming to be our king. We need proof.”

“What kind?”

“Let us see the image implanted in your brain.”

Max looked to Rath who nodded. What choice did they have? “Okay.”

Rath stepped aside as an Antarian waved his glowing hand behind Max’s head to reveal a 3-D image of the Satesian constellation of planets. The soldiers bowed low before Max who asked tentatively, “What do you expect from a king?”

“The restoration of our culture, justice and peace. Antar is a broken world and it’s only by the grace of Venn that you have returned to us now.”

Max studied them thoughtfully before responding. “You know I’m a hybrid. I have to change, right?”

“Yes, you must go through the reconversion process.”

“And Rath too.”

The Antarians hesitated, glancing at Rath covertly. “There is a large faction who would support the Chancellor as king should you both appear. Perhaps he should not reconvert until your position is secured, Your Highness.”

Rath experienced a ripple of excitement, but just as quickly it left him. “I ain’t interested, yo. I just wanna end the war so y’all can leave me alone. It wasn’t my idea to get killed and it wasn’t my idea to be grown in a test tube, so freak off. And by the way, have you seen any other hybrids lately?”

The Antarians shook their heads slowly.

“The Chancellor and I were traveling with the princess and a shapeshifter called ‘Milton’. You haven’t seen them?”

“No.”

“Where could they be?” Max asked Rath.

Rath didn’t have an answer and felt uneasy. If the aliens were lying, he certainly couldn’t tell. No way Lonnie was dead. He thought he’d feel something if she was. No, she had to be up to something. Why wasn’t she here with Max, her trump card? Something wasn’t right and it wasn’t good.

“Max, command them to, um, reconvert us. Lonnie might be trouble.”

Max’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Will you be trouble?”

Rath kept his gaze steady. “No, man. For the first time in my hybrid life – no, I won’t.”

“Reconvert both of us now.”

Pradd-vak was reluctant, but… “As you wish, Your Highness.”

***** ***** *****

Syn and Lucia hugged each other in a waiting room at Penn Station.

“This is good for you, Syn. You and Mack need a return to normal.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Lucia exchanged a worried glance with Wheat as Syn dug slowly in her carry-on. “Here’s my new cell phone number.”

“Chica, you – already gave it to me. Right before we left. Remember?”

Syn looked blank for a minute. “Oh. Oh yeah.”

“Train’s boarding,” said Mack wearily from a few paces away.

“Take care, Syn. Eat lots of turkey and stuffing. See you after the break, k?” said Wheat, tugging her hair gently.

Syn closed her eyes, trying to keep herself together. Could she bear to return to a Zan-less New York? Would she ever be free of the heaviness that rested on her heart and wouldn’t let her smile? g*d, she missed him so much! She hid her face in Mack’s wool jacket when he put his arm around her and they walked, looking defeated, toward the stairway leading down to their mid-west bound train.

***** ***** *****

Lonnie could barely contain her excitement as she looked down at her hands glowing as bright as light bulbs, feeling the power coursing through her. Her laughter was crazed and the Antarians watched her uncomfortably. This was not the Vilondra they remembered. Lonnie was so lost in her feeling of triumph that she didn’t notice them taking several cautious steps away from her. Nothing and no one could stop her now! She could have anything she wanted! She looked up suddenly with wild exultation at the Antarians who picked her up. Vilondra-worshippers. Who’da thunk it, yo? Ha-Ha! She took a step towards them and into something gooey. Milton’s remains? Oh yeah, she had just killed him, riiight…

“Clean up this mess – after you scan for signs of life at the crash site.”

“Princess, we already did. No living being is onboard or on the ground,” replied one with a slight bow.

“Well, how about a dead one?!” she snapped fiercely.

“There is nothing but the ship itself.”

Lonnie hissed loudly. “They didn’t just disappear! There were two others onboard with me. Now you need to find a trail, a corpse or something. Or do you want to join Milton here?…Answer me!”

“No, princess.” They bowed low before her.

Lonnie swished away from them abruptly, stalking toward the window. Everything had happened so fast that the only thing she was certain of was that she was Vilondra Kapol. She had awakened after Milton crashed the ship on the side of Mount Tegg. Max and Rath were nowhere to be found in all the smoke and suddenly she felt herself being transported away. The next thing she knew she was in her pure alien form and before her stood some renegade allies of the princess – her. Although she’d been gone so long the different factions were holding on to the rumored dream of the royals’ rebirth and return.. Her first act as princess was to kill Milton. He knew about Max and he was a lousy pilot.

On to more important things. Why didn’t their scanners pick up any sign of Max and Rath? She wanted as many threats to her claim to the throne eliminated as possible. But she had no idea that a faction of Antarian rebels was at her disposal. Ha! She didn’t need Zan, Max, Rath, Deshamos or Larek at all! No conniving for the crown. She’d just take the d*mn thing!

“Princess, there is no sign of life or death.”

Vilondra didn’t give any indication that she heard. Where were they? She’d fix ‘em good for making her look for them…. Suddenly she spun in a circle joyously laughing that awful laugh of hers. The sky was the freaking limit!

***** ***** *****

The court of Antar had been assembled hastily after the rumor had spread like a turreti storm that King Zan was alive and had killed Khivar in his own bedroom. In fact Antar was in such a disordered state that the court would assemble because of such a ridiculous rumor. The hall was vast – the largest on the planet. It’s smooth emerald lines had been altered into a overdone baroque style. The walls had been repainted a garish shade of burgundy and the floor was a blinding red. A six foot gold cage had been installed above and to the right of the king’s chair to hold Khivar’s favorite young slave of the moment but it was empty now. The prime court was seated. Judges, lawyers, and citizens milled around in agitation, as the acting Chancellor, Stoval Gyet tried to bring order to the room.

“Silence! We need to discuss the details of this matter calmly! Silence!” He leaned toward the captain of the guard. “Has Khivar been located yet?”

The captain became very still going inside himself to communicate with his men within the palace walls. “No, sir. His room is still empty but nothing looks out of the ordinary.”

Gyet swore under his breath, feeling like an idiot for letting the judges persuade him to call this assembly. Khivar was probably just out carousing in the countryside as usual. This whole thing was just a lie.

~ No, it’s not, Stoval. I’m very much alive. Miss me?~

The acting Chancellor jerked as if struck by the voice in his head. He’d know that voice anywhere. Only Gyet and a few others from each planet were aware of peace summit, but Zan being alive after all this time was still hard to believe. ~ Your Highness? ~

~ At your service. Are you at mine? ~


What is this was an imposter? ~ I have to see you before I continue this conversation! ~ Gyet heard low mocking laughter.

~ Still the cautious one, I see. ~ The voice lost its humor and found menace. ~But not enough to turn down an appointment from…my successor.~

Gyet’s light shimmered erratically. ~ If you are Zan, then you know that my becoming a martyr for a dead king would do nothing for our people. ~

~ Maybe. But nor has your survival. Listen to me. Khivar is dead. Clear the room of everyone except the council members. Then you will see me. ~


Gyet wondered nervously how the man was able to slip into his head without any warning. He remembered Zan being strong but not that strong. He heard that laughter again, cold and smooth. Gyet leaned over again to the captain. “Clear the room. Leave only the council.”

“What about the judges?”

“Leave only the council!”

As the guards slowly but persistently pushed the people towards the exits, a near riot broke out. Even the staid judges grumbled and made some not-so-veiled threats. Everyone wanted to know who had the crown. Was the rumor true?

When they were all alone the council members kept firing questions at Gyet but he stared straight ahead at the main arch, his nerves frayed, waiting.

“Hi.” Everyone heard the casual greeting and stilled. “Up here.”

They turned quickly to find Zan sitting in the gilded cage staring down as if he’d been studying them for some time. No one could speak, such was their shock. Zan fingered the cage thoughtfully, then pushed open the gate and leaped to the floor in a fluid motion. He was all blazing light and heat and stunning to behold. Unmistakably, this was King Zan – Zan the Great. The few guards left fell to their knees before him and touched their foreheads to the floor.

“I’m back,” he said, stating the obvious to the council members as he faced them. “And all of you, you’re…hm, well you’re not anything.”

“How is this possible, Your Highness? How are you alive?”

“Look it up in your science books. Let’s get down to business. The first thing is you’re all sh*t and you’re outta here. Guards, remove them to the holding chamber – all except Stoval Gyet.”

With the guards quickly surrounding them they had no choice but to go without a fight but they protested heartily. “What did you expect us to do after you died?”

“Khivar was the one. He did it!”

“You need us! You don’t know anything about Antar anymore!”

“Please, Your Highness, listen to reason….”

When Zan was alone with the acting Chancellor and a few remaining guards, he said to him, “I need a new council before I bring the judges before me. Give me the lists, Stoval.”

“What are you going to do?”

“If I have to repeat my order, you will comply and then I will kill you where you stand.”

A metal book was thrust hastily towards him.

***** ***** *****

Max and Rath, reconverted and bright, stood at the console window looking out as they landed in the royal city. Max stopped the Antarians from opening the hatch.

“Send a message first to the council that we are alive and have returned. Align the primary lasers for possible attack.”

“Vilondra may already be at the palace, spinning her poison web,” Rath said to him.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” Max replied stiffly. His humanity, which he insisted on keeping within himself, was very uncomfortable to contain. The Antarians all but refused to do it, thinking it would damage their king. He had to put them in their place and felt a heady rush of power as he did so. That was a danger. Only thoughts of Liz would keep him centered now.

The message was sent and after a short wait the Antarians spoke swiftly to each other in low tones.

“What is it?”

They stared at him strangely. “The response is that King Zan is already at the palace.”

Rath’s light fluctuated darkly. “Well, you know it’s a lie, fools. The king is standing right here. You checked his implanted insignia yourselves. And mine. I suppose I’m not the real Chancellor now, huh?”

Max’s mouth tightened, his visage intimidating. “Send this message. ‘The king wishes to meet the imposter at the dock.’ Shields up. Ready the secondary lasers.” They would see who was who and he would make it clear to those still confused.



TBC…



posted on 26-Oct-2002 5:48:59 PM
Thanks for the congrats, everyone. *sigh* I'm a little glum cuz I've had a personal setback of sorts. I was thinking of making tomorrow a "Post Part Thirty Or Die!" day. I might do a Roswell fic writing marathon. Good idea? *big*
posted on 27-Oct-2002 8:41:43 PM
I'm almost ready to post *part thirty* but I might add another section. Oh I don't know! Writing is hard sometimes. *sigh* I could just edit what I have and post it in an hour or two and post that last section all by it's lonesome or...write it and wait to post...or just hurry up with that section and post it all tonight anyway. LOL Any thoughts? I feel like I want someone to tell me what to do! In the meantime, I'm writing and editing, editing and writing. I'll be back later tonight to see what the Readers have said - if anything. *wink*

*bounce*
posted on 27-Oct-2002 10:24:06 PM
GWN, at this rate it'll be 12am before I post, but post I will before I close my eyes tonight! It's the editing now that's dragging things out. I'll notify when the update comes on the update board and email the interested ficfans whose addies I have in my Z/S mailing list. I think I need to update that as well. *tongue*

Oh me, oh my! Well, it's back to the mines again...



[ edited 1 time(s), last at 27-Oct-2002 10:28:08 PM ]
posted on 28-Oct-2002 12:41:06 AM
part thirty


When the sentinel approached the court with information that someone on a Z-80 patrol ship docked in Hangar C claimed to be ‘King Zan’, Zan realized that it was this very ship that had caused him to feel a strange familiarity. He also realized grimly just how vulnerable and desperately in need of leadership Antar was if a ship could just fly into Antarian airspace and dock in a hangar without clearance. It was unbelievable. It looked like things were just going to get more and more nuts while he was here. But whatever. Zan’s mind was cold and focused. There were only two things he wanted: Syndara – always Syndara - and protection for the alien children he apparently had taken part in selling and abusing. The king’s memories were nearly 100% restored within him. With disgust he remembered the acceptance during his youth of the system he was raised in. He remembered when child slavery and his part in it began to bother him. Too little, too late. The more he contemplated his memories the more alien to his home world he felt. He looked around at the government officials, the court and the judges. He could see the doubt in their eyes. The king had returned too suddenly and violently, killing their ‘emperor’. Corrupt though he was, they were used to him and knew what to expect. To keep them as malleable as possible Zan allowed them to check the image tattooed on his brain and for the most part it had satisfied them, but now with the news that another was claiming to be him, the court was more unstable than ever. He had to be very careful.

However, the first battalion of guards he re-introduced himself to received him warmly so he had some measure of strength behind him with their acceptance. But he had yet to announce his presence to all of Antar which was just as well since this new challenge popped up. Stoically meeting the speculative glances sweeping over him in the hall, Zan wondered who this could be posing as him. Oh well, all kinds of obstacles were going to jump out at him now he supposed. He’d just meet them head on just like everything else so far. A column of soldiers, about fifty of them, stood erect in two by two formation with eyes front and blindly facing the wall. He slid his Evaporator slowly out of the holster built into the lower right side of the throne and cocked it before nodding curtly at the captain of his personal guard, Mengus ka-Lond, a rather mean and formidable looking Antarian. As the two of them strode briskly past, each pair saluted and turned to follow them. The dock was secured. Their visitor would not escape.

***** ***** *****

When Rath saw the first figure enter the hangar, his light rippled with awareness.

“What is it?” Max asked tensely from his side.

“Enhance the focus – times ten,” Rath hoarsely commanded Venh. The alien-in-charge on the ground, joined now by about fifty men, looked directly up into the ship’s viewer, his face betraying nothing. He was so bright. As bright as Max. “It’s Zan,” Rath said slowly in awed disbelief.

“What are you saying?”

Rath was speechless for a moment, just staring at the mocking expression that now filled the screen. “It’s Zan – the Zan I grew up with. Zan! Wh’the f*ck?!

Max hastily stepped closer to the screen. “What about the ‘accident’? I thought you said he was dead,” he said, his voice low and slightly accusing.

“He was!” Different emotions clashed inside Rath and he couldn’t make sense of them all. How was Zan alive? What now?

“So now there are two of us and he got here first.”

Complete silence filled the bridge. Pradd-vak and Venh stared at Max, awaiting his command. They had done a valid check the way most Antarian soldiers had been taught in hopes that the rumors floating around for years were true – that Zan would return. This was him. They would follow him with a clear conscience.

Max knew he was at a disadvantage. He had only Rath and two soldiers. Zan apparently had all of Antar behind him. But…Max was Zan too. He knew what he would do in Zan’s place. Were they enough alike that this situation could end peacefully?

They watched the screen as Zan held out his hand without taking his eyes off the ship. One of his men put a communicator in it which he brought to his mouth. “Don’t prolong the inevitable. Come out.” There was a quiet ruthlessness in that voice.

“Open the communications link,” Max said. Venh complied and he spoke into the mic casually, “What is the inevitable?”

Zan smiled mirthlessly. Although he couldn’t see him, Zan knew it was the so-called ‘other Zan’ speaking. “Do you believe you are the king of Antar?”

Max hesitated. “I don’t just believe it. There appears to be some proof.”

“What a coincidence. Well, the inevitable is that you’re either coming or going.”

“Come aboard and we can discuss it.”

Zan chuckled a little cruelly. “I don’t think so, but I do think I’m through talking. It’s your move – Your Highness. You’ve got twenty megaseconds.” He snapped the communicator shut and handed it back, motioning to a soldier to rev up the Atomizer and aim it towards the ship’s console.

“Third level shields up now!” ordered Max. An Atomizer blast would blow up the whole ship and everything else in the hangar if Zan ordered it. It was definitely time to act. “I have to face him.”

Rath grabbed his arm. “You can’t. I’ll go.”

“No, that won’t resolve anything. Can’t you see? When I’m beamed down, take the ship and run. Bust a hole through the hangar at its weakest point. Don’t wait!”

“Max – “

“That’s an order!” Max snapped. He paused, looking at Rath thoughtfully when another name came to his memory. “One of us has to survive – Dor.”

Rath felt a strange tug inside that became a ripple in his light. ‘Dor’ was his nickname among family and close friends in this life. It was the name given to a man trusted, admired, respected. Loved. Between Dor and Rath, he was growing more and more certain that he wanted to be Dor from now on. And this is the way he would start…

“I have to face him too, Max. Lonnie killed him – and I buried him.” Rath/Dor waited for the expression he didn’t want to see on Max’s face. When it came, he continued, “Let me go first.”

“I guess you’re not the hero to leave behind after all. Okay, we’ll go together. I think our twenty megaseconds are just about up. Venh, beam us down.” He might never see Liz, his sister, or his friends ever again, but he was the one who made this choice. He’d have to live or die with it. Liz was better off without him and his alien mess anyway. Sweet Liz… He loved her so much!

Pradd-vak’s light had turned orange and he stood up. “You can not both go! You’ve just returned to us. Shall we just let the imposter kill you and suffer another hundred years or so chaos in our world?”

Max held up his hand. “Enough. This planet can’t afford another splinter in a civil conflict that’s weakening our position in the war. It’s my understanding that we’re losing soldiers in what would normally be harmless skirmishes for Antarian legions. Beam us both down. That is an order from your king, Pradd-vak.” Max took two Teg guns from a panel in the console and handed one to Dor. “Go ahead, Venh. Do it.”

With no choice but to obey the two soldiers watched anxiously as they beamed the king and the chancellor off the ship.

***** ***** *****

Ava glanced at her stolen Timex as she strolled leisurely down Fifth Avenue on the sidewalk bordering Central Park. It was 3:40. Roman said he would meet her at 4:00. Thanksgiving in New York. Cornucopias of apples, corn, nuts and sh*t all up in the windows, especially below 59th Street. Yeah, she had something to be thankful for. Ava was enjoying her freedom – uncertain though it was. She didn’t know what the aliens were up to and didn’t want to know. Perhaps that wasn’t smart. What if the aliens wanted to get rid of her just because she existed? A bicyclist whizzed past her too close and fast and she instinctively raised her palm to him, knocking him off the bike with the force of her thought. But she hadn’t touched him.

The cyclist struggled to get his long legs untangled from under his bike and rise, glaring at her uncertainly. It was impossible that she shoved him. She was too far away to reach him, but…she must have done something. B*tch! Something was creepy about her, so instead of confronting her he rode away, looking behind him a couple times.

Ava sighed. She’d always have to hide who she was, always look over her shoulder. The last couple days she’d been living in a dream world and she realized now she couldn’t stay in that world. The truth was she needed a place to live. Roman didn’t mind her crashing at his place when his cop dad wasn’t there, but sh*t – he was always there. It was his frickin home. Roman only let her stay over three times and twice he’d had to sneak her in and sneak her out and she couldn’t move around hardly or make any noise. She felt like Anne Frank hiding up in the attic ‘n’ sh*t. F*ck that. She cut loose the Antar crap so she could feel safe for a change – not trade one kind of crap for another. The wind was picking up and she folded her arms over her long leather jacket. She needed some new clothes. She needed everything! If she was going to live as a human – live good, that is – she couldn’t steal and just sleep anywhere for the rest of her days. She needed a steady flow of money, an apartment, a car…A job? Oh sh*t. Ava sat down roughly on a bench, not far from the Metropolitan Museum of Art steps where Roman was to meet her. A job. She needed to hone her alien powers which were slowly getting stronger. No way was she clocking a 9-to-5 when she could make things move ‘n’ sh*t. Nah, Zan and Lonnie had the brains and Rath…well, he had brute force. She was gonna have to develop both if living human was really gonna be worth her while. She watched several couples walk by. They looked happy to be together – normal and oblivious to the fact there was an alien in their midst. It was something she could never be oblivious to. She was alone and she’d always have to be on guard and never slip up or else she’d get dead or become a tortured lab rat in some sterile underground government complex in Utah with only mutated monkeys to talk to. Or something like that. Sh*t. She looked to her right and spotted Roman standing by a hotdog stand, eating one and searching the crowded Met steps for her. Roman. He was nice in his way, but he wasn’t the kind of guy who’d stand strong by a girlfriend he found out was an alien queen-to-be, and weakness made people talk when they shouldn’t. No, he could never find out.

Ava was about to wave him over when something came down hard on her shoulder and her startled reflexive hand blast was absorbed by Korn’s palm.

“Ouch. That stung,” he said, looking down at her blankly. “What are you doing here?”

“G*d! I could ask the same thing of you! What the h*ll do you want, Korn?” She rubbed her own palm as if she’d hurt herself. She was afraid of what his presence meant.

“I’m not here for you if that’s what you’re thinking. You’re not anybody’s concern in the Gamma sector.”

“Then why am I seeing you?”

Korn tilted his head to one side at too sharp of an angle.

Ava glanced around furtively. “Don’t frickin’ do that, man! You’re like out in the open, y’know!” she hissed. She caught sight of Roman catching sight of her. “Awww. You gotta go! My friend sees you and now he’s coming over.”

Korn made no move to walk away. “I’m here concerning another matter, but I’m still a protector of the Royal Four – or what’s left of them – on this planet. I know you need help.”

“I need a decent place to live – above ground,” Ava said quickly.

“Meet me here tomorrow morning and I’ll have something set up.”

Ava eyed him skeptically. “Well - thanks.”

He looked her up and down haughtily. “And if you want to live decently, you need to stop dropping your pants for anything moving. Please.”

“F*ck you, Korn,” she said to his retreating back.

“Absolutely no thank you,” he said succinctly as he kept walking.

“Shapeshiftin’ ass.”

“Oh, you think he’s got a ‘shapely ass’?” Roman said at her side, startling her and frowning hard. “Who was that?”

“Just - some guy I used to know.”

“Looks like you still know him if you ask me.”

“Well, I ain’t asking you. Look, yo, I’m tired. Let’s skip the stroll and just go back to your place. I wanna zone out on cable tonight.”

“Um, Dad’s home.” At her fiercely annoyed look he said apologetically. “It’s Thanksgiving.”

“Oh, that’s just frickin’ great! Y’know, I’m sick of you and your dad. You don’t want to find a place with me and I can’t even hang out with you. I don’t think you even give a sh*t where I sleep!”

She let him pull her up by the arm and start walking back down Fifth. “Ava, I thought you were staying with some cousin of yours – who for some reason I can never meet. Are you like a girl-of-the-streets or something? Cuz my dad’s a cop. Maybe he can help you out.”

“No f*ckin’ way!” she said so vehemently that he stared. “Look, forget it. Of course I live with my cousin, but she and I have some issues and I wouldn’t feel comfortable introducing you. I mean, why you wanna meet her so bad anyway? Looking for something new?”

“You are trippin’, Ava. D*mn. What’s really wrong here? Was it that guy? What’s up?”

She pulled away and sat on the steps nearby. “I’m just tired, Roman – really tired.”

Roman shifted his feet before taking the plunge. “You – wanna have Thanksgiving dinner with us. Dad’s a decent cook and he’ll stay off my back if there’s company.”

Ava’s lips twisted. “Wow, what a warm and fuzzy invite. How’s his pumpkin pie?”

“Outta this world.”

“Hm. Well, that’s definitely the pie for me. Let’s go.”

***** ***** *****

Thanksgiving in heartland America. As she pushed half-cooked turkey and watery gravy around on her plate, Syn wasn’t feeling too thankful. She was becoming wimpy, needy, and weepy and it didn’t help that her dad had been drinking. She and Mack had come over to see him early today because they’d be spending most of Thanksgiving with Mom and her side of the family. Bobby Morgan’s idea of Turkey Day was inviting his brothers, Jocko (John, Jr.) and Carl, and his bowling team buddies over to quote: ‘drink ‘til we stink!’ Naturally the food suffered. Dad and his crew were already well lit by the time Syn and Mack got there. Their uncles gushed and guffawed over them. Dad hugged them exuberantly, so happy to see them. Then he fixed them each a bland plate of the aforementioned turkey, unseasoned canned string beans and inexplicably icy cranberry sauce. That was it. But if he allowed them to drink in his presence (which he wouldn’t), there were about ten different beers and whiskeys they could choose from if they wanted any. Mack glanced wryly over at her when Dad hollered in from the living room, “How’s the grub, kids?” The men were all in there watching the game and talking crap.

“Okay, Dad,” Mack answered for both of them. Syn had tried to eat some of it, just to please her father, but Mack hadn’t so much as touched the tablecloth. One bite for her was enough. She set her fork down decisively.

“Mack, I want to go to Mom’s,” she said in a hushed voice. “Dad’s into his usual thing and I can’t take it right now.”

“Say no more. Yo, Dad – we gotta go.”

Dad came into the dining room. “Well, what’s this? You just got here.”

Mack took Syn up by the arm. “We’ll be back.” And before it could register to Dad that they hadn’t eaten his food, they hustled out before that ol’ Morgan temper broke through the alcoholic haze.

“He’s still doing the same sh*t,” Mack said angrily as they drove away from Uncle Jocko and Uncle Carl waving frantically like idiots from the doorway. “If he dies of that poison, I’m not going to his f*ckin’ funeral. No, I’ll be on a Caribbean cruise, while Jocko and Carl are staring down at his bloated face – if they haven’t kicked the bucket first. Dumb asses!”

Syn was rubbing her temple when the old Volkswagen hit a bump in the road, making her grab the doorframe. “Mack! Just slow down and stop talking about Dad dying. Please.”

“Sorry.” They were quiet for some time before he spoke again in an edgy voice. “Y’ know, it’s not like I can go to a therapist about…New York, or a priest. I mean, how does anybody explain that sh*t so that they can get some helpful feedback. I can only talk about it with you and you’re shutting down on me.” When she remained silent, he said, “Every day you think about him, don’t you?” Her face started to lose its calm. “Did he love you as much as you love him, Syndara? Cuz if he was here, I think I’d kill him for what’s going on with you right now.”

Syn put her face in her hands, crying uncontrollably. Mack cursed and stopped the car. He gently pulled her into a hug. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry. You’re just – it’s like you’re fading away cuz you’re keeping everything bottled up. You cry every night when you think nobody hears you, but you won’t talk about him or any of it since the – the shapeshifter, you call it? – took him away. Don’t internalize all that. It’s killing you slowly and I see it.” He held her close as she cried hard into his shirt, making him want to cry too. “I can’t let that happen to my little sis.”

“Oh Mack! I-I-I’m depressed all the time and I just want to die! I’m going crazy! I didn’t even know him that long, but something I’m – not ready to tell you about yet – happened between us and it’s like a part of me is gone. There’s a big hole it me and – “ She sniffled and quieted herself. “I’m afraid I’m going to fall through it. Mom and the family have been walking on eggshells around me since we arrived. I must look and sound crazy. And I shouldn’t have yelled at Little Jimmy like that. I feel out of control. I guess I’m just not strong; I’m real weak-kneed, huh?” She laughed a little, wiping her face with her hand. Mack replaced it with a handkerchief from the glove compartment.

“That’s bullsh*t and you know it, Syn. Mom’s got her own issues but she love you. As for the rest - f*ck the family.”

“Mack!”

“I’m serious! They’re a bunch of backwater hicks stuck in the 1960’s. All they do is plan picnics, smoke weed and gossip. I mean, look at this car! And ‘little’ Jimmy is big enough to know better than to sh*t his pants while sitting on someone’s lap. I don’t know why Kathy got mad at you for yelling. She needs to raise her d*mn kid better than that! That is filthy – really filthy.”

Syn pushed away from him, laughing in spite of herself, and it made Mack smile in relief that she was. She had him worried for the past couple days. He brushed her hair back from her eyes. “You’re not a heartless stone, Syn. Don’t be sorry about anything you’re feeling. Who’s been through what you’ve been through lately or what I’ve been through? No one can even come near the right to judge us. Only God can – and I’d still like to know where He was when all this was going on…but anyway…”

Mack started up the car again – on the sixth try – and continued down the road. Syn turned to him quietly.

“I guess He was there all along.” She stared down at her hands. “If it’s possible for Zan to be alive and well, then he is. He was with his protector…” Her voice drifted away at that thought. “And…you and I did survive. So I guess they’re a couple things to be thankful for.” There was a catch in her voice as she continued. “But I – know these are just words right now because – the hole inside me is getting larger.” Syn looked at her brother a little desperately. “Mack, I don’t know how to stop it.”

He reached over and covered her tightly clasped hands with his free one. “You’re not going through this alone. You’ve got me, Lucia, Wheat. I love you, sis. You are not alone.”



TBC…


posted on 3-Nov-2002 5:22:43 PM
Breezing in to say that I'll post shout-outs and individual replies in a day or two and that part thirty-one arrives this week. Might be a li'l short but it's kinda the tail-end of thirty. Thanks for the vibes and the posts and the great support in general! Mmwuah!

*bounce*
posted on 7-Nov-2002 6:27:57 PM
This might sound lame, my Zanatik friends, but I hardly know what to write when responding to feedback so I usually don't! Ack. But if I don't respond to you and you really want me to, just type "response please" or something at the end or your post.

I want to first thank and hug (like this...knuddel) all Lurkers who are enjoying and keeping up with "adj". (And by thanking you first I'm not trying to get you to delurk! lol But since I don't know who you are, I don't get to list you individually in the shout-outs.)

Big thank yous and huggies knuddel to

LEL - Ahh Angel, the dog! He'll be back.
Wayliz
LivE
- No way is this S2 Max! I mean, I'll love Max forever, but somebody made him a little comatose in S2. S1 Max all the way. I don't know if it shows in this fic but that's who's in my head!
Kapone224 (Truckstoppa! Yeah!)
mitra
Heatwave
- I'd like to mention that the M/L kiss at the end of Heatwave is one of the best onscreen kisses I've ever seen in my life. Everytime I see your name, Heatwave, I'm reminded of that great episode. Alex rocked in that too!
Cinder
GWN
Realistic Dreamer
LTL
- OTO! How are ya, my friend? I'm ready for another Roswell party. Where is it?! lol
Alien614
StarryEyedGypsy
strawberry
CharmedDestiny
JBehrsGurl
- Hey thanks for the colorful post and compliments! wiggle I'll try to live up to them, but this next chapter, which I'm about to post, was...I don't know. Y'all will tell me, but anyway...JBG, for a shipper name, how about...

Ecstatic Dreamers
Peach Dreamers
Peach Eaters?
*big*

I kinda like the last one! Well, what does everyone else think - if you're thinking about it at all? A Syn and Zan dolly couple is cool! I am so honored. *blush-blush* blush

And hey, I need to learn how to change my font 'n' stuff on here. All that big pink is neat! lol What code do you use to make the letters bigger? I forgot what you call it. Dang. I'm silly tonight, y'all! That's why I'm typing this much feedback to the feedback.

For everyone -
I've read all your lovely posts of support and my heart is warmed. love It has taken me so long to write this fic. If there is an award for the slowest writer, gosh darn it! I should get it! lol Most of ya have hung in there tough. How long has it been? Over a year! This is crazy! When will I finish the manuscript for my first novel - in 2030?? Any-ol'-way, you deserve to know a few things. First, I don't mean to make any of y'all cry or almost cry! But since I have, just know that I'm a happy ending writer. I can't help it. Angst? No thangst! At least not at the end. Hope I didn't spoil anyone who didn't want to be spoiled with that info. Hee-Hee! Okay, after *part thirty-two*....SOMETHING WILL HAPPEN.... Wow, am I a tease or what? lol

Okay, let me get out of the way. Enjoy part thirty-one. Please tell me what you think!


*bounce*

[ edited 1 time(s), last at 7-Nov-2002 6:29:08 PM ]
posted on 7-Nov-2002 6:38:24 PM
Please read the post above that took me an eon to type. Of course, you don't have to. This is your computer; you can do what you want! LOL Without further ado, here it is. (Excuse nutty typos if any.) Enjoy!



part thirty-one


In the split second after two motionless beings materialized in front of Zan, he realized their Tegs , powerful weapons, were pointed downward, arms straight at their sides with their free palms open facing forward – an Antarian sign of non-aggression. Zan gave the silent command to his men not to fire their Evaporators. Zan stared at them with a grim surprise. One appeared to be a duplicate of himself. All Antarians looked alike to other aliens – bright, blinding light in humanoid shape with wide set dark eyes. Zan’s were rare, his amber irises light enough to highlight the dark pupils. His dupe’s eyes were not quite as light. The other one was obviously Rath. Zan resisted the urge to kill him where he stood. The tense silence was thick with the threat of violence.

“Well now,” Zan began slowly in a steely voice, “what do we have here?”

Without prevarication Max answered him, “Zan, I’m no threat to you or Antar.” Max stared at his dupe, hiding well his amazement and fear. “I am you.”

Zan’s gaze slid coldly over to Rath before he answered him. “The company you keep says something different Mini-Me.”

“Zan, it was Vilondra who tried to kill you, not me,” Dorrath said neutrally.

“Ahh, my sister’s lapdog speaks. Well, your word is good enough for me, right?” Zan sneered softly. “Say one more and I will f*cking kill you where you stand.” Zan waited for him to speak again, wanting it. It would be one less variable in the equation. But Dorrath remained cautiously silent, realizing how precarious his situation was.

Zan considered just killing him anyway, but Rath’s blue-gray circle of truth held him back – for the moment. He said to Max, “You can’t be me if this is your new friend. You’d know better.”

“He hasn’t tried to kill me. Look, I can’t speak for him. There’s obviously a history between you. I can only speak for myself. Can we go somewhere and talk this out?”

Zan studied him and the silent Dorrath. “Who else is on that ship?”

“The two patrollers who found and reconverted us. They are…very loyal to this king and this chancellor.”

Zan handed Max a communicator. “I think you can guess the penalty if you’re lying, king. Bring them out.”

Max ordered Pradd-vak and Venh to beam themselves down, which they did promptly, ready to face their fate in service to the king. They stood erect awaiting Max’s next command, not daring to look at Zan.

“Hm. Not a large crew I see. Mengus, check the ship.”

The huge Antarian pointed a high-energy scanner at the Z-80 which would kill any living thing on board while it checked all systems and databases.

“It’s clear, Your Highness.”

“Secure these men. Take them to the debriefing center. Place each in separate meeting rooms. Move!” Zan insisted on acting as rear guard. He was taking no chances.

After being escorted onto another patrol ship, Max looked in wonder from the window. It was just hitting him how different this existence was. This world was a mixture of solid matter and light. Colors swirled in the atmosphere like a thousand rainbows gone mad, interspersed with large patches of cloudless mint green. The ocean below was an even lighter green to the east, but a deep blue to the west. It was like no earthly ocean. It was a series of gigantic whirlpools and the water was much thicker here than on Earth. Because Max had held onto his humanity, the scene was bizarre and unpleasant.

They were taken to a solid island castle of some sort, not far from the main hangar dock from which they came. Max wondered as they were led inside the dark place how this was all going to turn out because it didn’t look promising. He figured his best move was to be honest, no matter what. Dorrath, Pradd-vak and Venh were each put into rooms lining a narrow hallway. Max’s brooding thoughts were interrupted as finally he was taken into one and followed by Zan and not less than twenty guards. The walls were made of a cross between something like limestone and steel. There was no furniture and when Mengus pushed down on Max’s shoulders he resisted in confusion and anger.

“Remove your hands!” Max commanded him and to Mengus’s own surprise he obeyed him, looking quickly at Zan, who frowned and said,

“Mengus, assist the others in Dorrath’s room. Do not touch him, but keep him silent. Do not speak to him.” When Mengus left, Zan gave his full attention to his dupe. Obviously, there was one too many kings on the planet. “He was pushing you into a ‘seat’, that’s all. Like this – “

Max was amazed to see Zan sit on air. There was no chair, yet he was in a relaxed sitting position.

“How can you be reconverted and not know this? Did your two loyal subjects mess up and push a wrong button?”

Max gingerly sat down opposite him. It was easy. “I don’t know,” he replied uncertainly. The guards hovered around them ominously. Despite Mengus’ confused slip, it was clear where their loyalties lay. One wrong move and he was history. Zan gave the signal for the guards to be seated but not to crowd the two of them. The silence stretched out with Zan’s unwavering stare drilling holes into him. Just when Max thought he could stand it no more, a servant entered, bringing two glasses and a crystal pitcher filled with clear thick liquid on an invisible tray. Well, it wasn’t invisible. It was light and energy and thought. Max was surprised when Zan dismissed all the guards.

“Leave us.”

One opened his mouth to protest but the lieutenant silenced him and they all filed out slowly.

“Is that wise?” Max taunted lightly.

“If one of us kills the other, Antar will still have a king – according to you.” When Max declined to drink, Zan leaned back comfortably, but his mind was on high alert. “Who, what , where, why? Talk.”

“On Earth I’m called Max Evans. That’s all I had any intention of being until…Vilondra and Dorrath paid me a visit where I lived – Roswell, New Mexico…” Max related the abbreviated version of his life history up to the present – leaving out certain names and the most private and painful parts of his relationship with Liz. Zan listened with that same unnerving stare, but Max was firm and clear in all he said.

Zan could read this Max Evans’ blue-gray. He was speaking the truth as far as he knew it. Vilondra and Dorrath had of course lied about the manner of his ‘death’. Vilondra didn’t just disappear. No, that would be too easy. She was lurking around space somewhere with her twisted plans to be queen of Antar and whatever the h*ll else. She was dangerous. He felt her mind snap before she set him on fire. There would be no peace on Antar or in the entire Satesia-Kieohl as long as she lived, so – she had to die, plain and simple.

The guards were looking back and forth between Zan and Max, the two so much alike that it made them distinctly uncomfortable, as if the moment they took their eyes off them they would forget who was who.

“Interesting tale – Max Evans. Do you want to be king of Antar?”

“I’m following what I thought was my destiny.” Max answered tightly. “You could say it wouldn’t leave me or those I care about alone. I came by myself to spare them.” A small voice inside him added that it wasn’t the only reason. Obviously he didn’t think very clearly with his heart ripped out.

Zan’s eyes narrowed. “What about your girl – Liz? You just left her?” Zan was thinking no way would he leave Syn to go destiny-seeking with Lonnie and Rath. The only reason he was here was to make restitution to the kids for his pedophiliac past. Disgust and anger filled him at the mere thought! Again and again he argued with himself. He couldn’t be with Syn if he hated himself. She deserved better that what he was anyway and he should just let go. But he was selfish in his need of her. Somehow she was meant for him. He didn’t know whether it was cosmic or chemical or ordained by Venn. It was whatever. All he knew was he’d do anything to have her. That’s what all this bullsh*t was about.

“No, I didn’t just leave her,” Max snapped. “But what else was I supposed to do?”

“You don’t seem to know, Max Evans. But you know what I think?”

“No, but I guess I’m about to find out.”

“I think you ran out here cuz you had a fight with your woman and it twisted your brain. That’s the only possible reason somebody sharing my DNA would’ve followed Lonnie and Rath across the street.”

“Thanks for the psycho-analysis, Dr. Lechter. I don’t need you to tell me why I came. I just told you why I came!”

Zan held up his hands in mock surrender. “Whoa. Okay, that’s your biz. Peace.

“Let’s get to the point. We’re both copies of King Zan Kapol. Antar only needs one king but I’m not just going to sit here when you try to kill me – if that’s on your mind. So do you have a solution to this problem?”

“What, you want to stay here and fight the good fight?”

“I want to bring my destiny to an end. Then I want to leave it behind forever.”

“I don’t have time for destiny. I got other plans. I’m here to clean a slate so I can have what I want.”

“And what’s that?”

“It ain’t you, so don’t worry about it.”

Max smiled wryly. “You’re unreal.”

“If you want to tackle a destiny, here’s one – how do you end a civil conflict in Antar and an interstellar war in Satesia at the same time?”

For a long time Max stared at Zan who wasn’t moving until he got an answer. Max weighed the possibilities, repeatedly rejecting the crazy one, the unnecessary one. No! He could go back where he came from. But…would he ever forget that Zan Kapol, that he himself, had been a pedophile? Those painful memories kept resurfacing. So many had crowded his mind that he didn’t have the time or the desire to deal with them. Now he had to. If he had the chance to be with Liz again, could he stand to put his soiled arms around her? True, he hadn’t really done any of those things, yet a part of him had done them. G*d!…In his soul he knew that was the slate Zan was referring to.

“How do you end a civil conflict and an interstellar war?” Max repeated absently. “With two kings – temporarily.”

***** ***** *****

The guards recognized his face but thought he was an imposter – or was he? Surrounded by silent but palpable hostility and some speculation, Dorrath wondered about his fate. Unlike Max - and apparently Zan as well - , Dorrath had let go of his humanity. He had been an ugly human and it had taken several hours after reconversion to lose what was left of ‘Rath the Hockey Stick Sewer Rat’. He was appalled that his pod had been damaged to the point that he had become Rath. He felt violated somehow. Straightening his spine, he shook off his disgust and self-pity. He was the Chancellor of Antar and he would act like it. The door suddenly swished open and Zan entered.

Dorrath stood slowly so as not to alarm Mengus and bowed. “Your Highness.”

“Before I kill you, give me a reason why I shouldn’t.”

“I’m not Rath anymore. I am Dorrath, your friend. You know my pod was damaged, Zan. I couldn’t help what I became. As I said before, Vilondra tried to kill you, not me. She wanted your body submerged in water. You looked dead to me and I could see she was insane, so I did it. But I returned and buried you properly in the ground.”

“You want a medal of honor? Kiss my ass! If you call being buried alive proper, I guess you scored big, didn’t you?” Zan saw that d*mned blue-gray again. Sh*t! He motioned brusquely for Dorrath to sit opposite him. “So, you’re Dorrath now, huh? Pretty d*mned convenient.”

“The only reason you still see me as Rath is because you retained your humanity. I didn’t keep mine, Zan. If I’d had the choice I would never have chosen to be that person, not even to live again. If you search your Antarian mind, you know this is true and you know who I am now.”

“Write it on a Hallmark. Just tell me everything you and Vilondra were planning and tell me what she’s up to now.” Dorrath did so but it wasn’t much more than Zan already knew. In fact, he suspected now that Larek might be connected to Vilondra somehow. Maybe. But he wouldn’t share that thought with Dorrath. “She kept you in the dark too. Listen up. I remember my Antarian friendship with you, but on Earth we weren’t sh*t…so we’re not gonna sit here now and sip kir together. You say you’re not Rath, so prove it.”

“Tell me how. Look into my mind for the truth if you want to.”

“No, show me the truth.”

Dorrath searched his memories of long ago and reluctantly found one best forgotten. But Zan wanted tangible proof of his loyalty and he wanted to give him that. “Do I have permission to stand?”

“Permission granted.”

Dorrath paced, uncertain, but there was no other way. He sat again and began slowly, “I know something that Vilondra doesn’t want you to ever know because it would weaken her greatly if you did…."




TBC…





posted on 7-Nov-2002 8:37:48 PM
Hiya, GWN! You just reminded me of the main thing I wanted to tell everybody in that long post above part thirty-one. All that yakkin' and I forgot the main thing. Ack! I just wanted to assure y'all that we won't be going all through "the war years". We're not talking ten years here or anything. More love, less war, eh?

*angel**bounce*
posted on 7-Nov-2002 11:54:45 PM
Thank you so much, mezz. *big*
posted on 13-Nov-2002 7:55:41 AM
Just a quick post to let the Peach Eaters know that...I am writing! LOL The next part might be up by late Sunday night - I hope. Hee! Your ecstasy vibes mean everything. TY! More later. Gotta go. Mmwuah!

P.S.
--JBehrsGurl, thanks for the tutorial! I'm gonna play with the font next time. *happy*


*bounce*
posted on 17-Nov-2002 4:14:32 PM
Oh my Zanatiks,...remember when I said I was writing? Well, I wasn't doing it enough. I read/skimmed a couple books and got distracted. Don't kill me! I like to read too and when I get a good novel into my hands.... You understand. *shy**angel*

I will get back to you with responses 'n' such in a couple days. No books in my hands except "The Marshall Plan for Writing Wookbook" so part 32 will be my constant companion this week. I'll try to make up for my slowness. (Aspiring and veteran writers, I highly recommend the abovementioned book and it's prequel!)

I want to respond to some of you personally, so I shall return by Wednesday with an update.

Bless you all! I'm grateful for all the ecstasy vibes you post!

--PB

posted on 20-Nov-2002 9:20:59 AM
Oops! I see I shouldn't have used the word "update"! Ack, how could I have made such a mistake? I meant an "Author's Note" type of post and this one isn't even it yet.

PB ducks in case rotten peaches are being aimed at her head.

The real Author's Note will come late tonight. I have to get ready for work now and I so don't want to go. I mean really. My birthday is Sunday but I have a bunch of stuff to do. I just want to relax the rest of the week, sit on my derriere and do nothing but write and eat. *sigh*.

Okay, I guess I should go now...blah! *sad*

See ya tonight!

--Pinky
posted on 26-Nov-2002 10:54:09 PM
Omigosh! I am sorry about this delay! I'm posting this without reading any of the posts on pgs 18 and 19 yet. I don't think I can bear to look until I have that chapter ready to post. This is excruciating! Argh! (Zan, help me!) It's been a rough and unproductive weekend. My birthday was good. All birthdays are, right?! *bounce* God willing I'll be around for the next one, but there was drama I didn't need hovvering over me all weekend. *sigh* Okay, I'm in the typing stage of 32 but I hesitate to make any more promises about posting it. I'll just say 'It's alive!'

Well maybe I will go ahead and read what's been posted after all...LOL
posted on 26-Nov-2002 11:00:38 PM
Ohhhhh...thank you so much for all the Birthday wishes! Awww... *sniff-sniff* Y'all are so good to me, so patient. Asap, I'll get this chapter to you. It's just kinda hard right now. I have lots of life things going on around me and in my head. All I can say is I want to post 32 this week.

Huggies!,
PB

[ edited 1 time(s), last at 26-Nov-2002 11:07:25 PM ]
posted on 1-Dec-2002 8:55:07 PM
People, I'm going to post tonight!! It's 8:50pm for me here. The rough draft is completed and let me tell you...I don't know what I am doing! LOL I don't know about this chapter. It just happened! The story took over. Okay, I have to edit and of course that will take me a couple hours so by 12am (hopefully before) part 32 will be born!

Help me, Peach Eaters! What color are "Maria's" (Maj Delfino's) eyes? A date with a Zan Dupe to the first one who answers!

JBehrsGurl, I'm using your font tutorial to the best of my meager ability! Hope it works...


*angel*
posted on 1-Dec-2002 11:45:00 PM
I don't know what to make of this part. Let me know what you think!



part thirty-two:
“papercut”



A year and a half later – Earth time…the month of May

One dekkod later – Antarian time…during Kavi-ha – the low mating season…

***** ***** *****

why does it feel like night today?
something in here’s not right today
why am I so uptight today?
paranoia’s all I got left
I don’t know what stressed me first
or how the pressure was fed / but
I know just what it feels like
to have a voice in the back of my head
it’s like a face that I hold inside
a face that awakes when I close my eyes
a face that watches every time I lie
a face that watches every time I fall
(it watches everything!)
so I know that when it’s time to sink or swim
that the face inside is hearing me / right underneath my skin

it’s like I’m / paranoid lookin’ over my back
it’s like a / whirlwind inside of my head
it’s like I / can’t stop what I’m hearing within
it’s like the face inside is right beneath my skin…


(song - “Papercut” by Linkin Park from the CD Hybrid Theory)


Wheat’s band, Gray Shades, was onstage cold rockin’ a Linkin Park cover (with Wheat singing lead!). “Papercut” was written for her and in her. Syn could feel the tears moving behind her eyelids as she danced for her sanity – or against it - once again. Another night at the revised, refurbished but still quite wild Black Juice. And every week she danced out her pain on the floor as if she could fly out of her skin cuz she just didn’t know who she was anymore. And she didn’t care who saw…

***** ***** *****

New York. There were a thousand and one clubs in Manhattan alone. Who needed the Black Juice? It had the nerve to change ownership four times in the last eighteen months. No one seemed to know what to do with it except not change the name. The patrons had become so sleazy to the point that even bums were leery of pissing in the alley beside it. However, with the last change of hands five months ago things were looking up. The new owners were two rich college boys, brothers whose mother, Moira Allen-Conahan, “business maverick extraordinaire,” was frequently featured in Fortune and Forbes. Korn had to admit the changes they’d made added some class to the place which was no small feat.

Oh, it was still wild. The music was mainly hard rock with a big dose of rap featured on Fridays. The unique feature of this version of the Black Juice was Mash Thursdays when local bands had a chance to perform live if the Conahan brothers liked their audition. As the band presently onstage whipping the humans into a frenzy entered the last screaming chorus repeats, Korn glanced again at his assignment, Syndara Morgan, dancing with just a hint of desperation, her rigorous moves barely tempered by her inborn grace. The guy she was jamming with was paying more attention to her than the beat. Little did he know he didn’t stand a chance – not when even one of the Black Juice brothers couldn’t spark her interest – hard as the playboy tried. The girl habitually ignored her dance partners and half the time she danced alone, although she was often sought out.
She could go into a corner but her short, bobbed, silver blond hair was easy to spot. She had ruthlessly cut and dyed it six months ago. Before that she had honey blond cornrows for the longest time. In Korn’s opinion neither color nor style suited her.

He was in the Black Juice nearly every week because she was and he wished she’d go some d*mn place else sometimes. He was not linked to her like he had been with the Royal Four so he had to constantly shadow her movements which was easy for a shapeshifter like him. Korn tried not to invade her privacy and he long ago stopped wondering why he was even remotely concerned about it. All he should be concerned about was his rare communiqués reaching Zan. The danger of interception was high so he could only transmit a report every three Earth months. It was like passing brief notes and the only reply he got from Zan was “Continue.” His last one was sent a week ago but he got no confirmation that it had been received. Something might be wrong – wrong with the king, wrong with the world as Korn knew it millions of kilometers away. He was completely in the dark and isolated with no way to contact anyone except the king and no way to get home since his ship ‘died’ after a crazy landing.

Korn took swig of his Heineken. Since he’d managed to control his addiction to his favorite but most debilitating Earth drugs, he developed a taste for beer and whiskey (with a twist of lime.) It’s a good thing they didn’t have the same effect on him the other stuff did. He drained the bottle and his attention was caught again as Syn and the rest of the crowd clapped and cheered when the band started their second song.

***** ***** *****

Lucia squeezed her way over to Syn, shouting over the cheers, “Look at him. He loves this. Go, Wheat!” Wheat spotted them and winked. He had filled out over the last year, his time at the gym paying off very, very well. “Man, if he wasn’t one of my best friends…”

Glancing at her, Syn raised a speculative eyebrow, but Lucia didn’t notice cuz her eyes were still on Wheat as the band began it’s next set, a composition of their own. Again, Syn willingly let herself be caught up in a song. She always closed her eyes when she danced. Wheat was taking her away with his incensed electric guitar and lyrics that spoke of escape and anger and old love flowing over skin like warm water turning cold and new dreams that didn’t know they were already dead. Strange and surreal like her.

Yes, sing me.

When the set was over the two girls were allowed backstage and Lucia launched herself at Wheat in a tight hug. “You guys were great – again!”

Cristoff, her ex-‘dalliance’ and the bass player, watched sullenly.

Wheat smiled widely down at her as they eased apart. “Hey, thanks.”

Her dimples appeared. “So the Conahan brothers keep calling y’all back, huh? Did you see those Time-Warner exec lookin’ dudes out there? Bet they were scouting!” Lucia was teasing them cuz the band couldn’t care less about the Time-Warner dudes.

“Hey, you guys rocked tonight – again.” They all turned to see Drew Conahan lounging against the doorjamb. “And you got the cutest groupies.” He grinned widely, his eyes wandering appreciatively over Syn. “Gentlemen, shall we talk shop?”

Lucia led Syn out by the bar where Wheat would meet them and said, “You’re not gonna ditch us again tonight, are you?”

“I don’t ditch you.”

“Are you kidding me? You leave and nobody knows where you go. I can’t help it if you don’t call that ditching.”

“I don’t leave the planet, so chill,” Syn said in the bland drawl she had developed over the last year which Lucia hated almost as much as the way Syn had destroyed her hair. Maybe guys were all over her like grease on bacon but the look was so unnatural. Annoyance clamped her mouth shut.

Later Lucia said to Wheat when he came over. “Well, don’t you look like the cat that ate the best canary! What did the Conahan hotties say?”

Syn noted how Wheat frowned at Lucia as he led them out to his car, a birthday present – a ’77 Cadillac Seville. Great-Grandpa Wheaton always thought older things were better. Syn took her usual seat in the back and Lucia twisted eagerly towards Wheat when he slid into the drivers’ seat but he still said nothing, just smirked and pulled off.

Lucia gave him her drollest droll look and plucked his head.

“Ow.”

“Don’t be an ass, playa. Give it up!”

“They’re giving us two more months guaranteed with pay.”

“You go!”

“That’s great, Wheat,” Syn said, hugging him from behind. “You guys got it going on.”

“Yeah, if one of those record people approach you again, don’t be stupid. You’re good. You can share your gift with the world and make lotsa bank. Bunk the grass roots sh*t. Go for gold!”

Wheat was looking faintly pleased as they sped swiftly uptown. “Might not happen again. But we don’t regret nothing cuz that Arista dude acted like we was supposed to suck out his toe jam with a straw just for taking to us.”

Syn stretched out on the seat. “That doesn’t mean you’d be working with him directly.”

“Arista sent him to represent Arista, so the whole company must be an ass. Change of subject. I got a message for you from Drew Conahan.”

“What?” Syn asked carelessly.

“He said tell ‘Syndi’ don’t be shy.”

“Tck! I’m not thinking about Drew Conahan.”

Lucia squinted back at her in the dark. “I don’t see why not? He seems nice. You know he’s got money. And Drew Conahan is the hottest redhead I've ever seen in my life. He’s almost as hot as his brother, Trevor (midnight black hair, ahh)! What is the problem?”

“What is it with you calling dudes ‘hot’ all the time?” Wheat asked. “I mean, are we all hot? Am I hot?”

Lucia glanced at him covertly. “I might tell you later.”

“Later might be too late.”

Syn made a note of the flirtation before saying, “Wheat, please don’t give me any more messages from him.”

“Hey, no prob.”

“So where are we going?”

“The Five Spot.”

It was a retro-retro ‘40’s club – a ‘Jump, Jive and Wail’ taste that Wheat indulged once in a while. Syn wasn’t in the mood. “Drop me off at the sub.”

Lucia whipped around towards her, just barely holding back the first harsh words that filled her mouth. She tapped her bright red and gold nails against the vinyl seat. “If you want to go home, say so. When you leave this car, you’ll be facing your door. Nobody in here ever dropped you off at no subway, so cut the sh*t.” There was no sharp retort, just silence. “Wheat, can you postpone the Five Spot? The three of us need a conference.”

Syn blew out her breath impatiently. “Oh my g*d! What, Lucia, what? Just cuz I’m not in the mood for the Five Spot, we have to talk? I’m tired. I want to go home.”

Lucia rolled her eyes. “Yeah, it’s only 12am and you’re tired. You don’t look it.”

“I’ll take y’all home but I gotta go. I’m meeting someone.”

“Who the h*ll do you have to meet?” Lucia asked more sharply that she intended.

“Since it ain’t you, don’t worry about it. You can talk girl stuff without me.”

She held a palm up to his face. “Whatever, clueless. Just drive. I’ll deal with you later.”

Wheat gave her a look she’d never seen before. “Bring it.”

***** ***** *****

Lucia eyed her friend moving around the kitchen preparing tea (never strawberry now) and English muffins for them. “Please sit down. I don’t want anything but to talk.” But Syn wouldn’t stop until she placed two steaming mugs and two plates of toasted honey wheat muffins with butter on the table. Then she sat and took a bite, saying,

“I don’t want to talk about Zan.”

“This is not about him anymore. You’ve gone beyond your – grief over him. Now you’re grieving over yourself and you’re not even dead.”

“Lu – “

“The firsts six months after it all went down we talked – really talked – and you were still Syndara Morgan, my friend. I know people change when they go through sh*t like that. That’s not what I’m talking about. But a year ago all of a sudden, you started hating yourself.”

“Don’t psychobullsh*t me, Lu! I can’t stand that.”

“You can’t stand you. Or at least you don’t care about you and I can prove it.”

“Call Ricky and tell him to come pick you up – right now.”

“I can prove it, Syn! When’s the last time you went to any of your bio classes?”

“Oh for the love of – !” Syn jumped up and stopped short at the window above her kitchen sink.

“Do you go to any classes at all? Your grades are slipping and you’re about the smartest thing in whole d*mn school! Now what kind of dumb sh*t is that?”

“You sound like my mother. You sound like Mack. Will y’all get off my back?!”

“And you flushing your future down the toilet isn’t the worst of it! Wait. Yes, it is! But what’s just as bad is your whole attitude – about everything! Syn, you’ve become – a b*tch.”

Arms folded, Syn turned around slowly with a mirthless smile. “Depends on your definition I guess.”

“You’ve become cold and sullen and you won’t tell anybody what the h*ll is going on in your head.”

“Are you trying to tell me that you’ve felt this way for a year and didn’t say anything? Because this seems kinda sudden to me. Don’t take out your confusion over your new feelings for Roebuck Darryl Wheaton on me.”

Lucia stood up slowly, a warning glint in her eyes. “Excuse you?”

“Yeah, I am excused. Deal with your issues about our mutual friend before bringing some sh*t to me. I’m hearing an overlap.” Syn felt a twinge of guilt cuz Lucia was trying hard to hide how much her words upset her, but Syn couldn’t take much more of Lucia’s scraping at her festering wounds.

Lucia was looking down, pressing her lips together in an effort to hold her conflicting feelings at bay when finally she said in a low voice, “You must be trying out the role as ‘Queen of the Bitchiest Bitches’ and let me tell ya – you’re at the top of the director’s list. I’m gonna say what I gotta say and then – screw you, Syn. You don’t want to study biology anymore but you love it. You don’t want dark brown hair ever again but you like your natural hair color. You flip off your family and friends but you care about them. You’re mean to every guy that shows the least interest, yet you won’t let go of the one who isn’t in your life anymore. (Although I admit he was high impact.) You don't even practice your faith anymore, yet you love the Church. Simply put, you’re not you. So my questions to you are - who the f*ck are you trying to be? And when you finally become that person, where the f*ck will you be?”

Syn just stared at her angrily and Lucia nodded slowly as if agreeing with something. “Before you resume your trip, I think you better find the answers.” She snatched up her purse, digging around for her cell phone, and slammed out of the apartment.

***** ***** *****


I know I’ve got a face in me
points out all my mistakes to me
you’ve got a face on the inside too and
you’re paranoia’s probably worse
I don’t know what sets me off first but I know what I can’t stand
everybody acts like the fact of the matter is
I can’t add up to what you can
but everybody has a face that they hold inside
a face that awakes when they close their eyes
a face that watches every time they fall
(it watches everything!)
so you know that when it’s time to sink or swim
that the face inside is watching you too / right inside your skin

it’s like I’m / paranoid lookin’ over my back
it’s like a / whirlwind inside of my head
it’s like I / can’t stop what I’m hearing within
it’s like the face inside is right beneath my skin…



“You would kill me? You would kill your best friend who is only…trying to protect…his…people…?” Larek whispered harshly as Zan choked him with his bare hands. The storm raged around them, the rain so icy that only the intense battle the thousands of Antarians and Mirrans were involved in kept them from freezing where they stood. Zan was not fooled. Larek’s large eyes were so filled with the hate and malevolence which Zan knew were reflected in his own that Larek’s words barely registered. He squeezed harder as Larek tried viciously to dig his fingers into his eyes. “My curse on you, Kapolite! To Mirr I give all!” Zan snapped his neck and threw the body away from him as if it were so much rubbish – the body that years ago was a friend he esteemed above most…. Zan turned blindly in a rage that had no chance to abate. With a bloodcurdling cry he plunged his four-pronged knife deeply into the chest of the next Mirran he could find, savagely twisting the weapon through flesh of light, the pain for the Mirran more intense than if he were a solid being. The sky was the light red and orange of a Mirran dawn and the entire planet was one huge battlefield.

A hadekkod earlier (9 months) Larek and his people had invaded Antar and slaughtered thousands of the poor ones who lived in the mountains in humble simplicity. The degree of savagery with which the attack was carried out was unheard of in all the many years of the current war. Mirr had attacked Antar at its most vulnerable time to date. The great planet was awash in it’s own blood, the civil war raging relentlessly even while those warring factions separately fought the neighboring planets in the skies. These factions were unable to fight together as a unit, but no Antarian would stand for an alien race to conquer the planet, yet their hatred for one another fueled by greed came close to destroying their own civilization completely.

Beings of energy were more everything than beings of matter. They were more intelligent and much stronger. While they could be compassionate and loyal, they – the Satesians – did not love. And their cruelty in war and in intrigue exceeded the farthest imaginings of Zan’s human part – the part he struggled to keep even while he recognized it was slowly decomposing. To his people who were loyal to him he was a king like no other. He was larger than life and so was his carbon copy whom the people who believed the myth of two Zan’s called ‘shar-Kelos’ (one of Zan’s names). The king often appeared to be in two places at once but Antarians were too busy fighting opposing neighbors, brothers and sisters in front of and behind them to figure out the ‘Myth of the Two Kings’. The king was loved and hated equally, no matter how many of him there were.

The light red haze slowly changed to the gray of afternoon and eventually to the purple of night. Zan noticed from a corner of himself that this change of color happened three more times. Four days. For the equivalent of two hundred hours Zan had fought and covered himself with the blood of many as did everyone else until few Mirrans were left alive on the planet. Zan traveled swiftly to the control bunker deep within the ground under Larek’s central castle, knowing where the bunker was because his ‘friend’ had shown him years ago, and activated the backup force field so that the Antarians could not leave Mirr and return home. After such a battle the bloodlust had only intensified and Zan knew his soldiers would only start killing their own kind as soon has they reached Antarian airspace. They were all dangerously close to insanity if they had not succumbed to it already.

So much blood, violence. Death.

Zan couldn’t rest. He had to monitor them. None could leave while they were in the grip of overwhelming aggression. He was dangerously on the edge himself. It was not the memory of his duty as king that kept him from nuking Mirr, his soldiers and himself – which he had the power to do from this control station – but a being many light years away. He never even had the tantalizing solace of dreaming about her during his brief moments of sleep. But on second thought that might have made the powerful urges that frequently tormented him during this low mating season much more difficult to endure. Venn only knew if he would survive the high mating season – if he lived that long. He could not feel her, only the hole inside himself where she used to be that was widening every day now. It was growing nearly as wide and deep as his obsession with her. Korn’s infrequent and travel-damaged communications concerning her did nothing to stop it. Zan dared not consider what he would become if he ever came to believe he would never see her again. A pure monster would be created. Someone would have to kill him.

Zan stood at the console window watching some of his soldiers turn on one another. Five days ago he had managed to contact Dorrath who was west of Antar, the most vulnerable airspace, barely holding off the aliens. He hadn’t communicated with Max in over seventy days, but the frequent rumors of ‘the king’s’ presence in the southern tip of Antar assured him that Max was still alive. And growing more aggressive each day just as Zan himself was. He heard that ‘Zan’ had seriously wounded Princess Vilondra in the Battle of Eslonn. Seriously wounded was not wounded enough. Dorrath had revealed her secret that she’d had twin sons when she was very young and they had been taken and hidden away from her. What recently came to light was that they were raised on Mirr. They had been a threat to any claim of power she might now have since the existence of sons usurped a woman’s claim to the throne. She finally found and killed them, diabolical as she was, but was not able to do it as secretly as she wished. All of Antar learned of her heartlessness, but she still had a loyal if smaller core of vicious followers. Zan’s eyes were dispassionate and unwavering on the carnage occurring below him. Oh yes, he would take care of Vilondra personally. And she would meet the same fate as Larek and Deshamos did at his own hands.

Suddenly a voice screamed through the com, “Zan, let us in! No, let us out! What are you doing? Lower the stratospheric shield!” It was Mengus ka-Lond, his mind gone. “We will return home and destroy the rest of our enemies! We here are the only true Antarians! Antar is filled with imposters! Lower the shield, d*mn you!”

It wouldn’t be long now. Either they would sober up or they would all kill each other. Zan waited with the patience of the dead, never moving from the window.



TBC…










[ edited 1 time(s), last at 2-Dec-2002 6:51:57 AM ]
posted on 2-Dec-2002 6:55:36 AM
AUTHOR'S NOTE That's Very Important (at least to the auhor - Hee-Hee!):
It's 6:45 in the morning and here I sit revising. I'm a crazy writer! lol

Here are the revisions for those who already read part 32...Lucia talking to Syn about Drew:

quote:
Lucia squinted back at her in the dark. “I don’t see why not? He seems nice. You know he’s got money. And Drew Conahan is the hottest redhead I've ever seen in my life. He’s almost as hot as his brother, Trevor (midnight black hair, ahh)! What is the problem?”


And Lucia again giving Syn a piece of her mind:

quote:
You don’t want to study biology anymore but you love it. You don’t want dark brown hair ever again but you like your natural hair color. You flip off your family and friends but you care about them. You’re mean to every guy that shows the least interest, yet you won’t let go of the one who isn’t in your life anymore. (Although I admit he was high impact.) You don't even practice your faith anymore, yet you love the Church. Simply put, you’re not you.





*angel*

[ edited 3 time(s), last at 2-Dec-2002 7:07:07 AM ]
posted on 2-Dec-2002 7:25:55 AM
Ahh, thank you...!

Realistic Dreamer
sugarplum17
(Y' know - I didn't know that Lu and Wheat were starting to feel something else! Even I'm wondering what's going to happen with them. lol)
Raylin
JBehrsGurl
(I'm having fun with the font!)
and the rest of the Peach Eaters!

I bow low before your patience and the generous encouragement I find in your posts.



*angel*

[ edited 1 time(s), last at 2-Dec-2002 7:26:41 AM ]
posted on 2-Dec-2002 9:10:30 AM
Oh, I think I forgot to thank everyone for all the nice birthday wishes! Hug-Hug.

Heatwave, I especially like the first four tracks of Hybrid Theory. I think it's great that there's no crude language on the CD (even though the group sings about some pretty dark feelings).

LTL! - New York or bust?!

I feel like I'm being a 'bad writer' when I give spoilerish warnings and forecasts, but I don't want anyone to throw up their hands and say 'I can't take this anymore!' LOL Nothing specific but...32 is the last of the 'dark' chapters. It's time for some bright fresh strawbehries and peaches, innit? Yeah!




*bounce*

[ edited 1 time(s), last at 2-Dec-2002 9:11:34 AM ]
posted on 8-Dec-2002 7:01:41 PM
Hmmm. I thought I was going to post today (Sunday) but this part took a detour on its own. It's not quite ready. Check the sig. That's me right now. LOL Send those vibes please! I'm behind on my replies to your replies (what's new, huh?). Sorry! I want to post 33 this week. I really, really want to. *angel*
posted on 11-Dec-2002 11:43:00 PM
I want to post a longer reply but I must go to bed and I don't want to rush. Just wanted to let y'all know that...I'M IN AGONY! lol Very little ecstasy going on right now. A little but not a lot. I don't know about 33. It's twisting and turning on me. *sigh*

Help! *shy*

Edited to add: Thanks for the strawbehries and peaches, JBehrsGurl and the Dupegroupie vibes, sugarplum17. And thanks to everyone for the bumpies! They're all helping me through this rough time! *angel*

[ edited 2 time(s), last at 11-Dec-2002 11:47:30 PM ]
posted on 13-Dec-2002 5:38:52 PM
I am touched by all these ecstasy vibes y'all are sending me! So in honor of the Peach Eaters I'm determined to post a li'l sum'm for ya before Sunday ends. I got all kinds of CDs lined up while I write, write, write, write...ad finitum.

Heatwave! That song is very inspiring...very inspiring... *wink**angel*




*bounce*

[ edited 1 time(s), last at 13-Dec-2002 5:40:12 PM ]
posted on 15-Dec-2002 10:13:20 PM
Author’s Note about the last part: Someone asked about the subtitle “papercut”. Part 32 is named after Linkin Park’s song which to me seemed to match what Zan and Syn were going through.

Author’s Note about this part: “Kathy B” = Kathleen Battle, opera singer. Also, remember what I said about 32 being the last of the angsty stuff? Well, er…just read on. I am only a helpless tool for this story which is writing itself!

I named this part after sugarplum17.



part thirty-three:
the (mostly) sugarplum interlude


Earth time – late August (three months later)

Burying his face in her neck Zan’s pulses leaped painfully and his excited hold on her tightened. He prayed he wasn’t hurting her because only a violent death could make him let go. Her skin was like the slide of silk beneath his hands which were trapped but not immobile between her back and the cool bed sheets. Her skin – arousing, strangely elusive. ~No!~ His fingers dug in hungrily and her moan vibrated through his veins. He tried to apologize but his throat was parched, dry, his mind trying to think in English, not Antarian…

~Zan.~

The sound of her tremulous voice in his mind weakened and humbled him even more. ~Zan…Oh g*d! Is this real? Are you here with me?~ The feel of her fingers moving over his back made him jerk against her in reaction. And then she was crying softly, wrapping her bare arms and legs tightly around him. He thought he’d die in her arms from the desire to bury himself inside her with all his strength and open their connection wide! But he would surely die before he hurt her any more than he had since they’d met. Just having her close was an ecstasy that nearly robbed him of breath.

~Don’t cry, peach.~ was all he could croak out, his emotions threatening all coherent thought. ~Need you… I love you, Syndara!~ Why was it so dark when heaven for him was in her eyes? He cupped her face roughly in his eagerness. ~Let me see you.~

But as soon as he lifted his head and opened his eyes, he saw only dirt and felt only the chill of the cave seeping unpleasantly into his dark camouflaged light. The state of his appearance meant he had ordered an ambush. He leaped up, enraged and disoriented, alarming his soldiers, one of their ranks stepping towards him in concern. With an ugly guttural snarl Zan powerfully shoved the alien thirty meters away where his comrades caught his badly shaken form. Zan looked wildly around at every wrong face, instantly realizing where and who he was – and who wasn’t there with him. Because he had resisted for so long the craving induced by the Antarian low mating season, he either had just reached across time and space…or it had all been just a…

***** ***** *****

…tantalizing dream.

“Zan!”

Syn sat bolt upright, shaking and exhausted. 3:38am. She swung her legs over the side of the bed as if to escape the loss of him, shoulders hunched as she stared down between her feet. The moonlight illuminated the short white nightie that clung to her flushed body. She hadn’t dreamt of Zan once since the night his protector Korn disappeared with him into thin air. Why now after all this time? And it wasn’t the kind of dream that you knew was a dream but just felt real. She could actually feel Zan’s nakedness pressed on top of her just like when he healed her, bonded with her. In the pitch-blackness of wherever they had been he was all hard muscle and taut sleek lines. She couldn’t see him but oh! she could feel him all over her, smell the arousing fresh scent of his skin with a hint of strawberry…

Syn stood and slowly paced, hugging herself protectively. Was he alive? He was so real. He must be alive! He – ! Hope and pain warred within her finally melting into one solution. Eyes vulnerable, she stopped to look up at the moon and whispered firmly, “Don’t do this to me. If I can’t really have you, I don’t want you at all.”

***** ***** *****

Lucia considered herself an easygoing, fair person but there were a few things in life that she could not stand. One of those was her cousin, Ricardo Guigliador Gotti.

“Ricky, would you turn that crap down!” she screamed into the hallway and then slammed the door to her room. She punched the stop button on her CD player. “I can’t turn Kathy B up loud enough to top that! He’s wearing out Nirvana like it’s a new band – like Kurt Cobain ain’t cold as frozen bones in his grave! I can not wait ‘til that boy goes back to school in a week. I shoulda been got my own place!”

Syn lounged in a chair, shaking her head ruefully while watching Lu carefully apply her fire engine red lipstick in the mirror. “Are you okay? You seem kinda on edge.”

“I’ll tell you what’s on edge. What’s up with the hair, Syn?”

“Don’t start.”

“I’m saying, why is the top half brown and the bottom half blond? You look like Frankenstein’s daughter.”

Syn rolled her eyes. “Tck!”

Turning towards her, Lucia held her hands up in a gesture of inquiry. “Come on. When you look in the mirror, does what you see make any d*mn sense?”

“I’m growing the brown back, okay? What more do you want? If you don’t like the way my sh*t looks, then don’t look at it.” Syn shooed her away with a flick of her hand. “Just finish your face and leave me alone.”

Lucia just stared at her, trying not to blow up. “Mm-mm-mm.” She turned away to finish her face.

The ninth time they heard ‘Smells Like Teen Spirit’ blast through the walls, Syn had had enough. “Well, I’m outti.”

“Where are you going?” Lucia asked as casually as she could.

Syn felt a sharp retort on her tongue but swallowed it, wanting to cry instead. She hadn’t cried in months, except for in the dream or the whatever it was. She didn’t want to tell Lu about it yet cuz it still had her scrambled inside – sensitive. Nor had she seen anyone’s colors or tasted any sounds. Her grief had taken the gift (for want of a better word) away. As sure as she was breathing that’s what had happened. She knew she wasn’t the nicest person to be around anymore. Okay yeah, she was a bitch. But it’s not like it was intentional. It was…oh f*ck it, she wouldn’t go over this again in her mind right now. She just wanted to dance…. “Me and Mary Beth are hanging out.”

“So you must be ready for that Organic Chem test of yours tomorrow, huh?”

Syn bent over to string up her short patent leather boots. “Am I asking you where you’re going? Am I worrying you about your exams? Get off my back.”

“You already know where I’m going – over to Wheat’s to rehearse with his band. I don’t have any exams this week and I am attending my classes. You get anything less than an ‘A’ on that test, I’m gonna bust your back. Stop wallowing and snap out of the daze. You are wasting your life! I mean, did you really love Zan, Syn? Or was it bullsh*t?”

Syn’s eyes were wide as she stood slowly, trembling with outrage and pain. “How dare you?” she whispered harshly.

“Listen to me! Because if the love was real, Syn, you’d be living it. You’d put it in everything you do. I understand grief. F*ck if I don’t! Rachel was my sister. And I was angry and bitter and neither G*d nor the pope could tell me sh*t. I nursed that bitterness like it was my baby – for a long, long time.” Lucia faltered when she saw Syn’s face, tears threatening to fill the now doe-like eyes. “But I – I watched the same thing happen to you like ten times worse, and I thought you needed to be left alone with it, like I wanted to be. That was wrong. Syn, you – you’re not like this because you loved someone you lost. You’re like this because you are angry about it. Yeah I know the alien bonding thing he did to you is probably affecting you too. But d*mn! If you’re still living and breathing without the man then you do still have a life to live. And when you start screwing it up and pushing everybody away and acting like a completely different person, it means you’ve been too angry for too long. You’re angry because you refuse to accept reality! And since reality isn’t changing, you’re taking revenge on it and everything in it and hurting yourself in the process.” Syn looked so forlorn – with her funky bi-colored hair – but Lucia was trying to get through to her. “You’re my friend and I love you like a sister. Stop fighting what is, Syndara. You’re strong and you can handle it. You just don’t want to and that is bullsh*t.”

Syn looked as if she didn’t know which way to turn. Finally, still wide eyed, she picked up her purse strap, clutching it with restless fingers.

“Syn, don’t leave! I’m not trying to hurt you, but you’ve got to see. Can’t you see what you’re doing?”

“I have to go,” she croaked and quickly left.

“D*mn!” Lucia threw down her blush brush, rubbing her forehead wearily. She couldn’t force Syn to change. What she could do was talk and talk and talk to her and at her until her tongue fell out! Or would that just drive her away? “D*mn it!” She needed Wheat in on this. Lucia was certain if Wheat hadn’t been so preoccupied himself these past few months that they could have doubled up on Syn effectively by now.

Lucia studied her own sad reflection. Wheat. Her mixed feelings about him now were disconcerting. They’d been friends for as long as she could remember. She should be able to talk frankly with him about it, but just the thought of doing so made her cringe. And what was worse, she was catching the same kind of vibe from him – or was she wrong about that?

She didn’t like the trend she was setting of not biting the bullet before it reached the target. LG, Lucia Angelique Gotti, wasn’t no milquetoast when it came to calling a spade a spade. She couldn’t tell Syn to do what she wouldn’t do herself. She would go to Wheat’s early and talk to him. Enough was enough. Don’t you mean ‘not’ enough? Isn’t that why you’ve been primping in the mirror for an hour?, a little voice in her head asked slyly.

“Shut up, dummy,” she muttered irritably, her beaded sleeves ‘tick-ticking’ as she stalked down the street towards a bus that would take her to Queens.

***** ***** *****

Lucia knocked on Wheat’s door and his great grandmother opened it with a smile. “Hi, Mama Leah. How are you today?”

“Oh fair to middlin’, LuLu. I’m gonna set myself down and finish this ginger tea. Darryl’s in the basement, hon’.”

At the top of the basement steps she paused to listen to Wheat strumming his guitar crazily and singing some made-up nonsense in the highest falsetto voice in the world. She smiled and made her way down quietly. Her smile faded when she saw him because her reaction wasn’t particularly…friendly. There he sat on a stool, wearing a white tank tee, black jeans and what must have been his great-grandpa’s brown fedora sloped down over one eye so that he couldn’t see her approach. And his feet were bare. Lucia tilted her head, examining them closely, and then shook her head like a duck shaking off water. No, she was not just thinking that her best friend had sexy feet! Gawd, she was trippin’!

“You must not realize –“ He turned suddenly to peer at her with one eye. “ – the weight of your eyeballs cuz they’re wearin’ me down.”

The most cutting reply she could come up with was – “Hey.”

Wheat raised an eyebrow, considering her for a minute. “Soooo, my li’l songbird,…you’re here early.” She watched with a stupid weird nervousness (this was Wheat for g*d’s sake!) as he put down the guitar and strolled, hands in his pockets, to stand in front of her and stare, just slightly penetrating her personal space. “What’s the earth shattering event, Lu?”

She gave a small laugh to cover up the deliberate steps she took away from him. “Nothing. What’s wrong with you?” she asked, fingering the guitar he just set down. He didn’t answer and she could feel his eyes on her back. But which part – her head, her shoulder blades…her butt? “Ahww!” she exclaimed with impatient self-disgust, turning around to grab the bull by the horns. “Look, I just need to talk to you about something. It’s important.”

Wheat took the guitar from her and resumed his position on the stool to tune one of the strings. His attention was solely on his task when he asked. “About what? Your thing for Trevor Conahan? Save it. I don’t feel like playing Dr. Phil today.

Lucia put a fist on her hip. “What the h*ll’s eating you? What are you talking about?”

“That’s the point. I’m not talking about anything.”

“I can’t stand this! First Syn, now you! I do not have a ‘thing’ for Trevor Conahan. I’d admit it if I did cuz it’s my business; and I’m satisfied with my business. But N E-way…this brings us to my topic. You’ve been giving me attitude lately whenever I mention other guys. Why?”

He looked up at her then. “Maybe it’s for the same reason I get a death ray glare and smart cracks every time I go out with Shannon or Mia or Carrie or – “

She bugged her eyes at him, shaking her head rhythmically as she spoke. “Could it be that they’re latching on to you cuz you’re like the new Justin Timberlake and I don’t want you to get hurt? Could it be that they’re just skanks?”

His mouth tightened as he gave up all pretense of fixing the string. “Oh, I see. So these babes wouldn’t give me the time of day if it weren’t for the band. Is that what you’re trying to say?”

“I’m not trying to say anything, Wheat! I’m saying what I said.”

He stood up and turned away from her, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sh*t, I read and write music. I write it about what I think – about me, about people, about life. And you compare me to frickin Justin Timberlake? If this is what was so important for you to tell me, then I don’t want to know what’s important to you anymore.”

Lucia started to open her mouth but it felt weighed down by a sudden sadness. This wasn’t going like she thought it would. It was horrible! They’d never spoken to each other this way. As the silence stretched out she realized the only way to fix this before it got any worse was to come clean minus her usual colorful language. “Um…Wheat, I’m sorry. What I said came out wrong – all of it. I wanted to tell you that – “ She stammered now that she had his undivided attention and he was watching her much like a cat watching a mouse before it pounced. Oh g*d – ! “ – to tell you that these last couple of months, I’ve been having…feelings.”

His mouth twisted skeptically. “If it ain’t Trevor, you must be back to good ol’ David Lipinski, a true ass among men – “

“Oh, f*ck David Lipinski! It’s you, Wheat! You! And I guess you’re the truer ass for not knowing it, d*mn!” Covering her mouth, she turned away to leave, but he was in front of her, alarmed, grabbing her shoulders, before she could reach the steps.

“Sh*t, ah, sh*t. Lu…” He hardly knew what to say. “Yeah, I am an ass. I’m sorry. Don’t look like that,” he whispered. “I’ve been, um, having…I’ve been seeing you differently too and I don’t know how to handle it. I’m a guy and what we have is so simple. Guys like simple stuff. All my life my two best friends were girls and you and me always had this back and forth skit we’d do and it was all good.” Lucia remained silent (no small feat), relieved that he was admitting to the same malady. He must have realized how intimately he was rubbing her arms up and down while he talked cuz he stopped abruptly and pulled her over to the couch. “I don’t want to lose what we have for…for something that with other girls I go through like water. Am I making any sense?”

She gave him a look. “You go through girls like water? Since when?”

“No, I don’t mean it like that. Come on, listen.” The half-wary, half-concerned look in his eye was so cute. “I don’t want to lose – you. Our friendship.”

Lucia looked down at demurely folded hands. “I do know what you mean. I don’t want to lose you either. Whenever I’ve had a boyfriend, there’s always been that element of, like, getting hurt or mad at the slightest lack of attention or whenever he didn’t call when he said he would. Then the phone calls from the ex’es, the dumb fights and all that sh*t. I guess for me…it’s always been like little games, and any relationship that hints at sex is full of games. And there’s always two losers.”

“Well yeah, that’s what I mean. If we became a couple and then it ended, I don’t think I’d still have ‘my friend Lucia’. Y’ know what I’m sayin’?”

Lucia sighed. “I don’t think I’ve ever been friends with any of my boyfriends. I gotta be honest. They were mostly just cute and had cars. Came in handy while I was at the bus stop on a 20 below night.”

“Bullsh*t, you’d call me.”

She laughed a little. “Yeah, most of the time. It’s kinda sad that guys who’ve sucked on my neck – I couldn’t really trust them.”

Wheat was annoyed. “I don’t want to hear about your b*tchboys. If you’re gonna get your neck sucked, you better let a friend do it.”

“You applying for the job?”

“You hiring?”

“I guess that’s what we’re talking about.” Lucia stared into the reluctant hint of invitation in his eyes and when her body started to respond, she stood up abruptly. “Wheat, ohmig*d, this is nuts! I just wanted to admit what was bothering me so that we could clear the air and help Syn together. The girl – we have to snap her out of this funk. The alien is gone; he probably won’t be back; and she won’t let go. Sooo…I’m glad we got this all cleared up. Can we go over to her place after practice?”

“Yeah sure,” he said, but Lucia could see that his mind was still on – sucking her neck.

“So, um…Jennifer – “ she said the name like it was a lifeline. “Jennifer lives around the corner from you. I’ll just stop over and say hi until it’s time for the band to get here, k?” Without waiting for an answer she turned to go again, but he held her wrist as he stood up, pulling her in his arms, and kissed her as if he’d been dying to do so for years. Lucia gave in to it because it was Wheat and it was good. Very good indeed, she thought hazily as her arms circled his shoulders, one hand sliding up into his hair. The kiss went on and on until Wheat broke it up into shorter and shorter ones, ending with an almost chaste peck on her cheek. Then he looked down at the wondrous expression that reflected his own.

“Tell Jennifer I said ‘hi’.” He pushed her gently away from him, and picked up his still faulty guitar, becoming once again engrossed in it – as if he hadn’t just kissed the two of them to the stars. But she smiled knowingly at his slightly trembling fingers. She went over and placed both her trembling hands around them. His eyes flared with a warning that thrilled her.

“I don’t want to say ‘hi’. I’d rather go high. Take me there again, Wheat.”



TBC…


[ edited 1 time(s), last at 15-Dec-2002 10:15:10 PM ]
posted on 18-Dec-2002 8:36:47 AM
Thank you!

to:

CharmedDestiny - no, Syn and Zan definitely mustn't lose their minds! They've been through too much. The future's looking good...

sugarplum17 - glad you enjoyed it! I had no idea this would turn dupegroupie-ish. LOL This fic is alive.

JBehrsGurl - yes, alien hybrids seem to be the rage. Ha-Ha! As for Lucia's comments about Syn's hair...it's only her opinion. The guys don't mind Syn's style at all! Wheat's feet...yeah, I used to love George Michael's bare feet back in his "Faith" era. LOL

LTL - I think Zan better find a way to return or something before the Antarian high mating season cuz it's no joke. This low mating season is only a precursor and it's pretty intense in and of itself. I am concerned... Yes, the creative juices are fresh and bubbling and all peachy. I've already started part 34, the transition chapter. Finally!

Heatwave - I'm glad Z/S had some kind of connection. I don't know if I can take the waiting anymore. Enough is enough! It's like Chinese torture...or Roswellian torture. It's great to have a friend like Lu! That's love - when you don't give up on a friend until Kathleen Battle sings.
LOL

ckkitten - I think Syn just needs to digest what was said too. Lucia can be kinda harsh, but her intentions were mostly pure. (She was nervous about her upcoming 'meeting' with Wheat and that partially set her off.)

MamaDee52 - Yeah, that war is stupid! I've never seen so much flowing blood in my life, but do the Satesians even remember what the heck they're fighting about?? Zan and Max should just split... BUT...remember what happened with the WWII soldiers? After they came home, suddenly there were many, many babies for years to come!

Miliana72 - (Kas baby!) Wow, thanks so much for complimenting my humble writing. It is a true honor. I blush! There's always room for improvement and I know there have been rough spots in the fic, but as long as you and anyone else is able to enjoy it, writing this is a pleasure and a treasure. I'd do it for free!...um,...er,....hey I do do this for free. Waaaa! I wanna get paid, man! LOL

strawberry - re: Kurt Cobain (God rest his soul) - - I assure you that the opinions of Lucia Gotti are her own and not always shared by the Writer. She's got a caustic way of saying things. Hee-Hee! I think it's not so much that she disliked him or the music but that cousin Ricky was overdoing it and overdoing it loud. I like the song 'Lithium' but if Ricky blasted it ten times in a row, I'd start to get annoyed with him and Kurt!

LivE - I'm a bone dreamer and into any shades of dreaminess. (Shhh, I don't want to get kicked out of the UC board so don't tell! Nah, just kidding, they're so nice they wouldn't do that.) Do not worry! Love shall not be tossed aside like so much rubbish!

believer_evans - I enjoyed the surprise that was Lu and Wheat too. What will become of them?

Cinder - There's nothing like a sugarplum interlude to interrupt the angst. But I do see a bright strawberry light down the tunnel! Some "same room" action is imminent...(Did I spell that right? I don't feel like looking it up. LOL)

Everyone I didn't thank for posting after part 32 - you're a Writer's treasure!

posted on 21-Dec-2002 9:08:33 PM
Thank you!

to:

StardustDreamer - don't worry about writing fb. I know how busy RL can get! In fact, if I don't regulate my time, this fic will never get finished...

carolina_moon *happy*

2crzy4roswelll - Happy Holidays to you too!

JBehrsGurl - Awww, the dolly and the fanart...that's so special that you made them for Z/S! I don't have the words except the over- and under-used "Thank you!"

lyra - Did I ever tell you I so like your avatar image of Shiri? I think it's one of her best pictures. Post just so I can see it! LOL

Alien614 *happy*

I appreciate the bumpies! *bounce* True ecstasy vibes...ahhh.

Nothing doing this week, Peachies. I'm plum tuckered out with RL 'n' sich, but I'm aiming for next weekend.

Have a very Merry and Blessed Christmas...!
Happy Hanukah!
Happy Holidays!
and All Around Peace.

--PB

Edited because I messed up...LOL


[ edited 2 time(s), last at 22-Dec-2002 7:12:14 PM ]
posted on 30-Dec-2002 10:56:50 PM
{{{Pixi!}}} It's so good to 'see' you! I'm glad you're still enjoying my li'l ficcy. Hee-Hee!

JBehrsGurl, thanks for all those bumpies!

My Peachies, I am razzled and frazzled. I've been busy at work and tired and drained. (I work with the public.) I haven't had enough down time and everything is rush, rush, rush. Can you guess the awful truth I'm trying to tell you? Part 34 is not ready. I can only hope that when it is ready it'll be worth the wait for you. Let's see...I'll aim for next Sunday again. *wink* All the holiday bustle will be over, I will have had New Year's Day to do absolutely nothing except chill out and munch and drink (champagne!) and watch movies (and maybe write!). It will be a new year for Zan and Syn. Change is in the wind!

Happy Joyous Blessed New Year to all the Peachies!

*angel**bounce*

[ edited 1 time(s), last at 30-Dec-2002 10:57:52 PM ]
posted on 2-Jan-2003 10:51:41 PM
I bow in gratitude for the bumpies 'n' sich, but...um, Sunday is no longer looking good. I scream! I cry! Here's something. I'm going to the NY Roswell party the weekend of Jan 11 and 12. My heart couldn't take it if I didn't post something scrumptious for ya before then. I just don't want to rush and throw something out there, y' know? Being a writer and dealing with RL at the same time is hard! *pouts*

By the way, IAmLongTimeFan, that Zan pic is...sooooo inspirational! Hee-Hee!

E-vibes, E-vibes, E-vibes....

*happy*


posted on 9-Jan-2003 8:03:01 AM
JBehrsGurl, with a nickname like that it sound like you can help this Writer write!

{{{WhosYrDaddy!}}}

*sigh*

The writing is going this slow...
snail snail

And pretty soon the Peach Eaters will chase the Writer. And right about now I feel like doing this hammer_head to myself! I'm depending on your patience. *happy*

Maybe a weekend immersed in all things Roswell will jump start me again. I'm in broken record mode. I haven't seen the Pilot episode or Meet the Dupes (the first four Zanminutes of it, that is!) in a while. Say a prayer for my safety during the trip and some inspiration as well.

Fruggies knuddel to all of you! See you next week.


*angel*

[ edited 1 time(s), last at 9-Jan-2003 9:57:12 PM ]
posted on 26-Jan-2003 9:28:07 PM
Peachies! I don't have the words so I'll save the sob story and just post...Gaw! Over a month! *shy* I am sick. Okay, here it is...


part thirty-four


“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It’s been two years since my last confession and two years since I’ve celebrated the Mass. I lost someone - someone I loved. Because of that I’ve been bitter and angry at God, angry at the person and cold and mean towards my family and friends. God gave me an interest and talent in the human sciences and I’ve carelessly squandered it…to the point that I’ve failed courses and I’m close to being dismissed from college. For all this I’m so sorry. I – I ask God for his forgiveness and I ask Him to help me get on with my life in union with Him.”

“Well, you’ve made a very good confession. Our grief over the loss of a loved one, either by death or otherwise, is difficult to bear. When we are suffering, it’s important to turn even more towards God through the sacraments of Penance and the Holy Eucharist and through daily prayer, especially the rosary, but also in your own words. Pour out your heart to Him in trust that he loves you deeply and feels your pain. He understands because he was human too and knew pain just like that. Also, it may help you to speak with a good therapist. God helps us in many different ways. For your penance say one Our Father and one Hail Mary slowly, meditating on God’s great love for you as expressed in those words. Pick up your cross – and pick up your blessings – and move forward.”

“Yes, Father.”

“And now make an act of contrition.”

“Oh my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended you. I detest all my sins because I fear the loss of Heaven and the pains of hell but mostly because I’ve offended You my Lord Who are all good and so deserving of all my love. With the help of Your grace I will sincerely try to sin so more and avoid all near occasions of sin.”

“God the Father of mercies, through the death and resurrection of his Son has reconciled the world to himself and sent the Holy Spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins; through the ministry of the Church may God give you pardon and peace, and I absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Go in peace. Please pray for me.”

“I will, Father. Thank you!”

***** ***** *****

That day, That day
What a mess what a marvel
I walked into that cloud again
And I lost myself
And I’m sad, sad, sad
Small, alone, scared
Craving purity
A fragile mind and a gentle spirit

That day, That day
What a marvelous mess
This is all that I can do
I’m done to be me
Sad, scared, small, alone, beautiful
It’s supposed to be like this
I accept everything
It’s supposed to be like this

That day, That day
I lay down beside myself
In this feeling of pain, sadness
Scared, small, climbing, crawling
Towards the light
And it’s all I see
And I’m tired and I’m right
And I’m wrong
And it’s beautiful…

That day, That day
When I sat in the sun
And I thought and I cried
Cuz I’m sad, scared, small
Alone, strong
And I’m nothing and I’m true
Only a brave man can break through
And it’s all okay
Yeah, it’s okay


(--from “That Day” by Natalie Imbruglia)


***** ***** *****

The United Colors of Benetton had taken over all of Manhattan below Fourteenth Street. NYU collegians were a lively group with bags slung across their shoulders, and heads down, their updated bell-bottoms and cargoes swished and parted the spring air as they contemplated the next Chem/English/Soc exam/research paper. Some strode, heads high, to the library in business internship attire with briefcase in hand; or to the legendary Panda Chow’s for what basically amounted to tasty rice. Then of course there were the clusters of guys playing bean bag.

Syn sat at an umbrella table in front of Dean and Deluca’s just within the perimeter of NYU-land, nature watching and people-watching with a certain contentment that she hadn’t felt in a long time. She liked the collegiate ambiance here and liked that she was a part of it. She finally felt like a college student with a purpose again instead of just going through the motions just cuz she couldn’t think of anything else better to do. The possibilities were endless and in the present moment everything was fine. Her pen flew across the pages of her journal as thoughts opened windows inside her.

Syn uncrossed her legs and ineffectively tugged at the hem of her jean skirt which only hit mid thigh when she was seated. She wished she hadn’t tried to look cute with the short sleeve olive sweater as well. Spring was only just blooming and a cold breeze suddenly bit into the air.

A girl wearing a red running suit and head phones sped-walked by, curly blond ponytail swinging madly. She tried to pass a group of pre-teens, obviously playing hooky, without slowing down and she bumped into Syn’s table hard without a backward glance. As Syn grabbed her water bottle, she caught the girl’s colors – a way too bright green-yellow with brighter yellow pinpoints throbbing relentlessly. Jumpy and edgy all the time. Unable to be still for long, unable to relax. Despite sympathizing with the girl Syn smiled to herself. Synesthesia had been a part of her for as long as she could remember. Looking back it was amazing to realize how much of her imbalance was caused by the loss of it, like losing an eye.

Suddenly she heard a low whining and a cool nose nudged at the hand in her lap. Syn smiled down at Angel, scratching him gently behind the ears. “You are such a baby sometimes. Yes, you are.” Angel blinked and his tongue lolled in satisfaction. He was a huge dog. Even sitting on all fours he only had to turn his head to rest his jaw on her knee.

When she and Mack returned to New York, the Angel was nowhere to be seen. Then out of the blue one day about a year ago, she opened the door to her apartment building on her way to a class and Bam! there sat the humongous German shepherd barking loudly in her face. Talk about heart stopping! The only reason she didn’t slam the door in his face was that she recognized him and sensed strongly that he was happy to see her. His bark was a friendly bark, not an I’m-gonna-chew-your-spleen bark. From that day on he walked with her during her travels about twice a week, sometimes appearing at her door, sometimes miraculously meeting her en route. Where and how Angel spent his time in between, Syn had no idea. Perhaps he was saving other lives and being their guardian too. There was something supernatural about him. In fact, recently she dreamt that she was standing at the end of the path leading to Heaven’s gate. A beautiful young man whose face was full of light came out smiling at her. He looked like a Native American. As he walked towards her, he turned into Angel and that’s when she woke up. It was proof enough for her. If Angel wasn’t her guardian angel, then he must be in cahoots with her real one. Anyway, what difference did it make? He was her friend.

Syn continued to stroke him absently as she thought about her molecular structures quiz she had taken that morning, certain she’d done well. She had felt relaxed, not experiencing the anxiety that she’d suffered with during exams for so long – almost coming to hate what she once loved.

Wheat’s cool, solid blue-green approached and she turned before he spoke. “You got him here to scare the guys away or what?” Angel barked his greeting and Wheat scrubbed his head roughly.

“Both. Sit down. Lu told me that you had a meeting with an assistant of one of Tommy Mattola’s assistants. Spill!”

Wheat dropped his bag down and turned a chair around so he could straddle it, his well-defined arms resting casually on the back. His mouth curved in the semblance of a smile, but his full expression was hidden by black shades. When had her friend become such a hottie?

“It wasn’t a real meeting. She just came backstage after the set to say hi.”

“Come on, Wheat. Columbia reps don’t approach a band just to say ‘hi’. You got an invite to their uptown office, didn’t you? Didn’t you?

Wheat hung his head and sighed. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Whoo-hoooo! Go, boy!” Syn reached over and hugged him.

“Wait. Don’t believe the hype. If they try to make us poster boys…I’m telling you, if they try to turn our music into cotton candy for the Brady Bunch kids, they can forget it.”

She was grinning ear to ear. “You won’t let that happen. Oh Wheat, you and the band deserve every success. Y’all rock!… Oh my, you’re not blushing, are you? Ha-Haaah!”

“H*ll no.” But he finally had to laugh.

“So – where is Lu anyway?”

“I’m meeting her in front of the library in about an hour.”

Syn fingered her journal page and spoke the words she wanted to write. “It’s amazing, y’ know, that my two best friends are not only best friends anymore.”

Wheat slid his shades off. “Syn, about that,…I was wondering if me and Lucia being me and Lucia, y’ know – bothered you.”

“No, how could you think that? I mean, it’s different, but – when the three of us are together we’re three with an – overlap of two but that overlap actually enhances the three. So the three of us are the three of us, not two plus one.” She laughed at herself.

His mouth hung open. “Whaaa? I’m lost! But I get what you mean. It’s sorta like I have four different relationships among the three of us. There’s us three, right? Then there’s me and you. Then there’s me and Lu as friends cracking hard one-liners on each other - ”

“Well they’re not as hard as before.”

Wheat grinned a little dreamily. “Yeah, that’s true. Okay so then there’s me and Lu as…kissers. You know something though? Between me and her the friendshipping and the kissing overlap all the time. Sometimes we’re doing more of one than the other. It’s all mixed in and….” He paused, perplexed, and slid his shades back on. “Hey, why the heck am I trying to explain it? It’s just all good. Know what I mean?”

“Yeah. I know you two make a great couple. And you’re a great couple of friends – to me.”

“Aww, come on. You’re trying to get me with the mush and it’s working, so stop. Or do I have to do this?” He squeezed her cheeks between his knuckles.

“Ay, alright! Quit it!” She swatted at him, laughing. Colors approached – a dancing light gray. Drew.

“Am I late?” Drew Conahan said smiling, his glance at Wheat speculative but guileless.

Syn looked up, resting her chin on her palm. “No, you’re not late. Have a seat.” A low grumpy growl came from her lap. “Angel, don’t start. Don’t mind him. He gets cranky sometimes.” The truth was Angel had issues with any guy who tried to talk to her. Sometimes he’d appear out of nowhere if they persisted after she declined. The look on their faces when they saw him was priceless – like Drew’s right then.

“That is one huge dog. I didn’t know you had one.”

“It’s more like he has me.”

“Hm. What’s up, man?” he said to Wheat. “You better go practice if you’re not ready for tomorrow night. If you impress Luke DeShone, you impress all of Columbia Records.”

“We already got an invite from Sheila Bass. Who’s Luke DeShone?”

“Sheila’s cool but she’s a mailroom clerk compared to him.”

Wheat stood up and peered at Drew over his frames. “I don’t think all this concern that I ‘go practice’ is about The Shades’ imminent future.” He leaned down mischievously and kissed Syn’s cheek. “See ya, kid. You meeting us later, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, bye.”

Syn and Angel eyed Drew quizzically as he continued to just stand there.

“What’s wrong?”

“First of all, I was beginning to think you’d never say yes. Second, I wasn’t sure you’d be here.”

Her look was reproving. “Now what kind of person would I be if I stood you up? If I had changed my mind, believe me, you’d know before now.”

He sat and appreciated her appearance head to toe. “So speaks a woman,” he said quietly, eliciting another low growl from under the table. Drew shifted his long legs from there. “Ah, can we go inside? It’s okay out here but it’s a little cool. You’ve got light goose bumps on your arms.”

“What am I – a lab specimen? Stop looking at me so hard.” But she got up and gathered her things, muttering with a touch of humor. “Light goose bumps. Psh!” She turned to Angel. “I’ll see you later, okay? Be good and I might have some smoked neck bones for you tomorrow.” She leaned down, kissed his head, and watched him lumber off towards a cluster of trees and disappear among them.

“Syn, where’d you get him and where is he going? He acts like he understands English.”

“He must belong to somebody cuz he’s well taken care of. But he befriended me one day when I really needed a friend, and now he visits me on a regular basis.” She walked towards the entrance of the coffee shop and Drew followed. “Life’s so short. There are some mysteries best left alone.”

“Uh-huh.”

Inside Drew pulled a chair out for her and asked, “So, what are you in the mood for?”

“A slice of pumpkin pound cake and a mochachino.”

Syn watched him go to the counter and felt compelled to pull out her journal again. Drew Conahan was as GQ in his fashion sense as his older brother, but much more casual. He had pursued her despite her total lack of interest. However, he hadn’t been exactly annoying and she’d gotten used to his taking her continual firm rejection with a sense of humor. She was not interested in him romantically but she’d gotten to know him from observation over the past year that he was full of the fun and merriment she’d been missing.

“Am I in your book?”

Syn promptly closed it as he set a tray down and put it away. “There’s lots of things in it.”

He smirked. “Maybe the answer to this question is in there. Are you dating Darryl Wheaton?”

“Mm. I see it’s cards-on-the-table time. Are you asking me if he’s my boyfriend?”

“If he’s not, is he a prospect?”

“No one is. Wheat’s one of my best friends. I’m surprised that you didn’t notice that he’s my other best friend’s boyfriend. I, on the other hand, am not interested in anything exclusive – or physical, not even a French kiss. I’m telling you this up front so there won’t be any misunderstanding. I’m in a very casual and platonic era of my life right now.”

“How can you say that? French kissing is life. It restores balance at the end of a long hard day.” Drew leaned forward in playful eagerness. “But I’m hearing the words ‘right now’- as in the near future has…other possibilities.”

Syn sipped her drink and smiled at him. “Mmm, this is good. Thank you. No, the near future and the far future looks about the same. I’m serious, Drew. If you’re looking for something else, you better get started now.”

“Hold on. Let me mull this over while I chew.” He took a huge bite of his ham and cheese on rye and frowned in concentration with his cheeks full.

“You are silly.” And he wasn’t bad on the eyes either – with his redhead self. Different.

“Okay, I thought about it and here it is. I like ya, kid. You’re gonna be a star! Whaddaya say I take you here and take you there and see how far we get, eh?”

She stared at his nutty expression until she almost laughed. “One trip at a time.”

“Let’s toast, milady.” And they clicked mugs.

***** ***** *****

Far away…in Satesian space…

Zan had been chasing Vilondra for months. She was retreating hastily, causing havoc and destruction in her wake as if she knew her time was running out and sought revenge for it. And it was true – her time was running out. As long as she lived there would be no lasting peace in the Satesia-Kieohl. A treaty had been signed several days ago, but the interstellar peace was new and fragile while Antar’s civil conflict raged on. That too had to be resolved or the peace in space wouldn’t last. Vilondra had to be killed and Zan wouldn’t allow anyone else but himself to do it, a decision that Max had harshly protested.

Max. After he killed Vilondra he would make Max leave. Max was about to break and then Zan would probably have to kill him too. His dupe was the more sensitive one and these past two years may have caused irrevocable damage to his mind, especially his hidden humanity. All of Antar thought the two of them were mad, but they were more afraid of Zan. He had killed and killed and killed with an increasing intensity and barbarism, more than matching his most savage opponents in battle. Loyal Antarian citizens whispered about the way his dark enlarged eyes didn’t move anymore. They looked like death and appeared to see everything. And his light was too bright. But he acted like a true king in every way and ruled over them effectively, if coldly.

With his mind Zan called the two sentinels back from the foot of a thick electrical field which was shaped like a mountain. It was called the Azag and Vilondra had camouflaged herself in it. He would go in alone. If he died, Max would succeed where he failed. He eased through layer upon layer of electrical energy so strong that it was difficult to move. He could die easily if he pushed through the strands of light too quickly – or too slowly. Vilondra would never have entered here if she didn’t intend to make this her last stand. If either one of them were wounded too severely, the victor’s chances of making it back alive were limited. But Zan didn’t care. The High Mating season was fast approaching and if he did not give into it – meaning he would have to shed what was left of his humanity and mate promptly – he would die anyway. Wasn’t he already dying slowly every time he dreamed of laughing brown eyes that grew farther and farther beyond his reach each time?

Many kiloseconds had passed before Zan began to catch glimpses of Vilondra ahead of him. As he knew, she was heading for the hollow core of the Azag where she could move freely and without danger. He also knew that in her arrogance she would not try to take him by surprise which was the wisest move. No, she wanted a confrontation. After he had pursued her through the strands for so long that he nearly considered going back, there was the open core in front of him.

“Hello, brother.” There she stood, her stance defiant and her expression full of eager bloodlust. And hot insanity. “The moment has come. I will let you speak your mind and then I will kill you.”

Zan only stared at her, deciding how she would die. He would not waste time asking about the sons she murdered or why she had betrayed them all in the first place.

She tilted her head at him, smiling evilly. “If you will not speak, I will speak for you, but you’ll only learn what I want you to know. You remember I spent the summer of my sixteenth year with Larek and the rest of the Mirran royal family. That’s where and when I had twins. Who their father was, you can guess if you want. Here’s a hint: your first guess would be wrong. By now my sons had reached maturity and had a claim to the Antarian throne – which I could not allow. As for helping Kivar and betraying our family…well, I wanted the throne. I always have. That’s it. Of course, you had me executed before he in turn executed the rest of you. But I’m back now and I will have what I want!”

She lunged for him before she finished speaking but Zan’s reflexes were sharp, blocking her and wounding her left side. She desperately attempted to shock-wave his head but struck his right arm instead rendering it useless. With all his remaining strength he floated upward and wrapped his whole self around her neck and squeezing until he began to even squeeze himself. As Vilondra struggled and slowly died in his macabre embrace, she whispered the vilest of curses, “Zan…dokaf-pog!”

Zan stood stoically and watched her corpse dissolve and sink into the walls of the core. It all happened so fast that it was anti-climactic really but the emptiness inside him was beginning to fill. He made his way back to the ship where the two sentinels anxiously awaited his return, even as they shrank back at the fearful sight of him. He swept past without acknowledging them. It was time now to end the rest of the sh*t quickly! What was left of his human heart began to throb painfully as his excitement grew. He would have her soon! Nothing would stop him. Nothing.




TBC…



posted on 26-Jan-2003 10:24:36 PM
Whew! Okay...

This is kinda late but: omabr and slvrbtrfly02, nice to meet you! Thanks for posting. *happy*

Thanks to all of you for bumping and waiting and waiting and bumping.

Happy New Year to you all!

Nice manip, Heatwave! ;)


*bounce*
posted on 9-Feb-2003 5:21:31 PM
Oh my peachieres! The word is...I am actually writing *part thirty-five*. The very, very tentative post time is this week. RL is soooo in the way! Argghh. At any rate I am looking as we speak at the front cover of The Watcher by Melinda Metz and it's inspirational...*big*...as are all the bumpies, JBehrsGurl and jeremiah (Hiya! Nice to meet you, j. *happy* ) and everyone else who's posted or who's just waiting ever so patiently. Thank you!

*angel*

[ edited 1 time(s), last at 9-Feb-2003 5:22:17 PM ]
posted on 18-Feb-2003 7:52:54 PM
Applebylicious, that's quite a manip!

Heeyyyyyy, I'm buried in snow, people. 20 inches makes the storm of the century around here.

Oh yeah, the fic! I need to drink peach juice and eat strawbehry yogurt every day until I finish this thing! I'm just posting to let you know that I and the fic are still alive and we shall return, er...before the month is out.

Thanks for the bumpage 'n' sich, dear Peachies! *big* I owe y'all big time. *angel*