Starcrossed

CHAPTER 5a: Duchas (part 1)

CHAPTER 5 (part 1)

Duchas (doo-kas): normal Earth humans

A whole different fear assailed me. "Wait. You mean, he moved you all to Jewel to . . . indoctrinate me or something?" I demanded.

"It's not like that," Sean said from behind me.

I turned around to glare at him and noticed Rigel wasn't looking happy, either. "So what is it like?"

Molly answered me. "He—we—thought you should get to know other Martians. Besides the Stuarts, I mean. You haven't had a chance to meet many, especially our age. And it will be important later for you to have . . . friends." I could tell she'd almost used a different word.

Still, her explanation did remind me of my earlier thought, how it might be nice to be friends. "I . . . guess that makes sense," I said slowly. I wanted to talk privately with Rigel before deciding how I really felt about all this, but now obviously wasn't the time.

"Thanks for the ride, Mrs. O'Gara. I'll see you guys at school tomorrow," I added to Sean and Molly. Then, in the half second when nobody else was looking, I mouthed "Call me" to Rigel.

Without a backward look, I went up the steps, across the wide porch and into the house—a supposedly historic two story, two bedroom, one bath house that had seen much better days. After pouring myself a glass of milk, I spread out my books on the kitchen table and started on my homework while waiting impatiently for the phone to ring.

I hoped Rigel would get a chance to call before my aunt got home, since the only phone in this creaky old house was the one in the kitchen, hardwired to the wall. It wasn't even a cordless. Which meant no private phone calls. Ever. I hated that.

I made my distracted way through Geometry, History and French, glancing at the clock every five minutes, before the phone finally, blessedly rang.

"Sorry," Rigel said as soon as I picked up. "The O'Garas came inside and only left a minute ago."

Just the sound of his voice calmed me. "That's okay. But my aunt will be home any time now. What's the deal? Did you find out?"

"Some, but I'm sure there's more they're not telling. It's pretty much what they said—Allister getting all proactive about preparing you for your role and stuff. According to them, more Echtrans will be moving to Jewel soon. Sounds like Allister wants to turn it into a kind of headquarters."

I wasn't sure how I felt about that. On the one hand, it was appealing to think I might meet more Martians who didn't want to kill me, maybe even make some friends. On the other hand, they'd probably gawk at me, the way the few who'd come through town so far had done. That wasn't appealing at all.

"What, since he can't convince me to go to Montana, he's going to bring everyone here? Turn Jewel into a new compound?"

I thought maybe he'd laugh, but he didn't. "Something like that. He probably thinks if you meet lots of other Martians you won't spend so much time with me. He's never been exactly happy about, you know, us."

Yeah, I knew. He'd made that pretty obvious. "Hasn't Shim convinced him we're really bonded by now? He said he was going to try."

Rigel's sigh came through the line. "He has tried. I've heard him. But Allister doesn't believe in the graell. Says it's just myth and wishful thinking and teenage hormones, and that Grandfather is only seeing what he wants to see."

"Sounds like Allister is only seeing what he— Oops, Aunt Theresa is home. Talk to you later. Arboretum after dinner?"

"I'll be there. Love you, M." He hung up before I could say it back.

"Talking to that boy again?" Aunt Theresa asked before even saying hello. Then, before I could answer, "Take your homework upstairs. I need the table to grade papers."

She knew Rigel's name perfectly well, but she never used it—to me, anyway. She was more than willing to say it when bragging to her friends that her niece was dating the champion quarterback. I'd overheard her a few times. To me, she acted like he was a budding sexual deviant or something.

"Nice to see you, too," I muttered under my breath as I gathered up my books so she could savage her poor third graders' assignments with her red pen. If she heard me, she pretended not to.

As usual, Uncle Louie didn't get home from work until after seven and, also as usual, dinner conversation consisted mostly of stories about the car lot where he worked as a salesman.

"So I told him, sure, I'd call him if we get a Porsche in," Uncle Louie was saying. "Like anybody in this town has one to trade in?" He laughed loudly.

I forced out a chuckle along with Aunt Theresa, who didn't pay much more attention to Uncle Louie's stories than I did. Not that he seemed to notice.

"You'd think someone who can afford a Porsche would be able to read the big 'All-American Auto Sales' sign, wouldn't you?" he continued. "I told him if he really wanted a foreign car, I could give him a great deal on one of the Toyotas in the back lot. We can't give those suckers away in this town. But no, he said he'd just go to Indy for a Porsche. More than an hour away, but it's his time and money." He laughed again.

It really wasn't funny, since I knew the dealership was struggling. If it closed, Uncle Louie would have to look for a job in Kokomo or even Indianapolis. Already, Aunt Theresa was working a couple evenings a week at Regina's Flowers For All Occasions, and once I turned sixteen I'd probably try to get an after school job to help out, too.

Uncle Louie launched into the next story—something about one of the guys in the service department forgetting his lunch—and my thoughts drifted to everything that had happened today, and about my planned meeting with Rigel. I hoped Aunt Theresa wouldn't figure out why I'd started jogging after dinner most nights.

I also wondered how Allister could be so willfully blind to Rigel's and my bond. He'd heard about the bolt of lightning we'd generated to knock Boyne Morven's sphere thingy out of the sky before it could kill us. According to Shim, that proved we had a graell bond. And what else could explain the miraculous cure of my nearsightedness, or even my acne? Or how sick Rigel and I both got when we tried to stay apart for a couple of weeks?

Oh, wait. We hadn't really told anybody about that, though his parents had to notice. Still, there was plenty of other evidence, if Allister weren't too stubborn to see it. Just because Rigel was from the wrong clan or party or whatever . . .

The second I finished eating, I jumped up to do the dishes so I'd be able to meet Rigel. Aunt Theresa didn't like me going out alone after eight-thirty, now that the days were getting shorter.

After standing the last glass upside down in the drying rack, I bolted upstairs to change into my sweats and running shoes, then hurried back down. "Going running," I yelled toward the kitchen as I headed for the front door.

"Wait, Marsha," Uncle Louie called from the other side of the hall. "There are some people here I want you to meet."

Irritated at the delay but curious, I went through the rounded archway into our little formal living room and stopped dead. The whole O'Gara family was sitting there—Sean, Molly, their mother, and a sandy-haired man I assumed was their father, chatting with Uncle Louie and Aunt Theresa like they were old friends.

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