Episode 3: The Information Superhighway

TWO WEEKS LATER....

"Hey, Maria!"

Maria fought back a wince as Liz's voice clawed through her quiet thoughts. Slipping her binder into her locker, she slammed the yellow door and turned to smile wanly at her dark-haired friend.

"Hey, Liz," she replied, trying to sound cheerful and failing miserably.

The other girl picked up on her glum mood immediately. "Maria, what's wrong?" she asked, frowning.

Maria forced a bigger smile. "Nothing," she insisted. "Absolutely nothing is wrong. I'm peachy."

Liz's eyebrows furrowed. "Michael still?"

Maria fought the urge to curse at her own transparency, and instead leaned back against the wall of lockers, head hung low. "He won't talk to me," she murmured. "And I've tried everything. Chatting in the Crashdown, over the phone. Hell, I even sent him a letter. A LETTER, Lizzy!" She rolled her head back until it banged unceremoniously against her locker door. "It's like...I don't even matter anymore."

Liz looked about to say something, but she was interrupted by another voice.

"If it makes you feel any better, he barely talks to us anymore either," Isabel chimed in, drawing up beside the two girls, Max right behind her.

Maria pushed away from the lockers, puzzled. "What do you mean?"

Isabel shrugged. "It's like he can't string two words together without...DESMOND giving him the OK," she said, spitting out the older alien's name with obvious distaste. "When he DOES speak for himself, it's always the same two sentences. 'Humans are distractions,' and, 'Ask Desmond.'" She shuddered. "It gives me the creeps. DESMOND gives me the creeps."

"It's like he's....BRAINWASHED Michael," Max added, worry evident in his voice. "Michael doesn't even see what's going on. Everything Desmond says might as well be written in stone."

Isabel nodded in agreement. "And the thing is," she continued in a hoarse whisper, "Desmond doesn't say ANYTHING. He pretties up the same things over and over again; rephrases them. But in the end, it's always the same thing!"

She paused, took a deep breath, and continued. "I don't know if he's even telling the truth about Waterbl-...about home," she said, catching herself on the supposed name of their planet. "I don't think he knows anymore than we do."

Liz's eyes were wide. "Have you tried to tell Michael?"

Max nodded, but the frustration in his eyes spoke volumes. "He won't listen. It's like he doesn't want to hear what we're trying to tell him. That is, when we manage to get five minutes ALONE with him, without Desmond standing at his elbow, or patting him on the shoulder." His jaw was hard. "He hasn't even been to school for three days. He says all he needs to know he can learn from Desmond."

Maria swallowed hard as she absorbed the information. "This is unbelievable," she murmured, staring vacantly at the grubby tile beneath her feet.

Isabel chuckled mirthlessly. "I think we HAVE to believe it."

Max nodded. "And I think it's time we find out all we can about Desmond," he said firmly.

Liz held out her hands, palms upward. "How?" she asked. "He's a shapeshifter. He's an alien. We don't even know his last name, or if he even HAS a last name. Where are we supposed to look?"

Isabel laid a hand on the other girl's shoulder. "Liz, Liz, Liz," she chided cheerfully. "Don't you know you can find ANYTHING on the internet, provided you know where to look?"

Maria snorted. "Yeah, well, that's great. But do any of you KNOW where to look?"

The others looked at each other, but said nothing.

"Fantastic," Maria muttered, crossing her arms and leaning against the lockers again. "So who does?"

"Hey guys!" Alex crowed as he jogged up beside them. "What's going on?"

Four pairs of eyes latched onto him simultaneously, and four smiles lit up in unison.

Alex groaned. "Oh God," he said. "What do you want me to hack now?"

******

MICHAEL'S APARTMENT...

"I'm sorry, Father."

Desmond sighed. "It's all right, son," he said with a smile, patting the hatchling on the shoulder, as per usual. "Multi-levitation of diverse objects is a hard enough thing to learn with proper equipment, let alone with these human...appliances." He gestured to the scattered utensils, furniture, and other oddments that had, a few seconds ago, been hovering precariously several inches off the ground. "You'll get better with practice."

The hatchling nodded, but didn't meet Nacedo's eyes. Not a good sign. "Son?" Desmond asked softly. "What's wrong?"

There was a brief pause before the youngling looked up. "Are you really my father?" he asked abruptly.

Desmond kept his face placid, though his insides boiled. He'd been expecting this question for some time. This was the turning point. "What makes you ask?" he rejoindered, sitting beside the hatchling on the floor.

The boy shrugged, and stared at the floor between his feet, his arms crossed over his knees. "I don't know," he mumbled. "I've just...I've never really had a father."

Desmond gazed out the window. The sky was blue, with a few fair weather clouds. "No," he said softly. "I'm not your father."

The hatchling's shoulders slumped. "Oh," he murmured.

Nacedo leaned back on his palms. "Not in the biological sense, that is," he added.

The youngling looked at him. "What do you mean?"

Desmond shrugged. "On Waterblue, we are all each other's fathers and brothers, or sisters and mothers. There's no social distinction between who is family and who isn't." He gave the young one what he imagined was a reassuring smile. "So while you might not be of my own flesh and blood, you're still my child." He cocked an eyebrow. "Do you understand?"

The hatchling appeared to be considering what Desmond had just told him, and the older alien kept very still. This was important-- it could all fall apart here.

Finally, a smile spread across the youngling's face, and Nacedo allowed himself to breathe again. "Yeah," the hatchling said, eyes sparkling. "Yeah, I do."

Desmond gave the boy a broad smile. "Good."

"Did you know my biological father?"

He'd been expecting this, too. "Yes," he said, nodding. "Yes I did. We were very close."

"What was his name?"

Desmond smiled. "The translation would be something like Walks Among Us." He chuckled. "Oddly appropriate."

The hatchling swallowed, and looked away. "Did he...Did he die? In the crash?"

Desmond allowed his face to darken. "No," he growled. "He died afterwards. In...THEIR hands."

The young one looked up sharply. "In whose hands?"

Moment of truth. "The humans," he spat, venom dripping from his voice.

The boy's eyes were wide. "H-how?" he breathed.

Desmond let his eyes flash. "After the crash, they knew we'd be found. So they stashed your pods in a cave, and morphed them to look like boulders. We had barely finished when the humans came." He took a long pause, letting the words sink in.

"They shot your father," he continued, and resisted the urge to grin at the boy's jolt, "when he tried to protect your mother."

"My mother?" it was a breathless whisper.

Desmond nodded, his eyes growing distant. "She was...very beautiful," he said. "They tried to take her away, but she wouldn't leave your father. So they shot her, too."

Another pleasant start of revulsion from the boy. "Wh-what about you?" he stammered.

Nacedo sat forward and wrapped his arms around his knees. "I knew it was lost," he said softly. "So I ran." After years of practice, he could cry on command, and he did so now.

"I should have stayed," he murmured, tears in his voice. "I should have died with them. It would have been the right thing to do." He waited expectantly for the boy's reaction.

He was not disappointed. A hand rested on his shoulder, and he glanced to the side to see the hatchling looking at him compassionately. "I'm glad you didn't," the boy said softly. "Then I'd be all alone." Nacedo was grossly pleased that he didn't so much as mention the other two hatchlings.

Desmond reached up to lay a hand over the youngling's. "Then I'm glad I didn't, either," he replied, smiling. "My son."

"Father."

He twisted his upper body around enough to clap the younger alien on the shoulder. This was good. Things couldn't have gone better. From the look in his eyes, Desmond could see the hatred boiling inside the youngling-- hatred for humans, for human life. Righteous anger at the death of his parents. The lust for revenge.

"So do you understand...why you have to do what I've asked of you?" he asked carefully, though he already knew the answer.

The hatchling nodded. "Now I do," he said softly, anger boiling beneath his voice. "I WANT to do it."

Desmond grinned. "Then how about tonight?"

The youngling looked him straight in the face, and Desmond could see his reflection in those flashing hazel eyes.

"If I could, I'd do it now," the boy growled.

Desmond patted his shoulder, then pulled his hand away. "Just what I wanted to hear," he said.

******

LATER THAT NIGHT....

"Do you have ANY idea how ILLEGAL this is?" Alex hissed as they stole through the back door of the high school. "I mean, this is SERIOUSLY illegal! Like, SERIOUSLY!"

"Alex, calm down!" Isabel hushed him as she manually relocked the door-- no need for powers now they were inside. Like all of them, she was clothed entirely in black; what Maria couldn't understand was why she was clothed in such TIGHT black. "No one's going to catch us, and if they trace the computer back, they'll only be able to trace it to the school." She flashed the lanky boy a brilliant smile. "So relax."

Faced with Isabel's bright white smile and tight black t-shirt and jeans--//Oh, THAT'S why,// Maria thought-- Alex crumpled. "Fine," he muttered. "But if I go to the slammer, you're all going with me."

"Can we just get to the computer lab?" Liz hissed, glancing around nervously. "Let's get this over with."

"This way," Alex directed, and started off down the hall, the others trailing behind.

Once they reached the computer lab, Alex quickly slipped into a chair behind a shiny Hewlett Packard and pressed the on button. The accompanying BING sounded ridiculously loud, and seemed to echo through the silent school building. Maria found herself nervously hopping in place while she waited for the computer to boot up. Why was it taking so long?

Finally, the main desktop appeared, and Alex double-clicked the Explorer icon. As the program loaded, he glanced over his shoulder at the other four teens. "What's your pleasure?" he asked.

Max leaned forward, one hand on the back of Alex's chair. "Sheriff Valenti's files," he murmured.

"You're kidding, right?" Alex said in disbelief. "I mean, that's even more illegal than doing what we're doing right now!"

Max nodded, but kept his eyes trained on the screen. "We need information on an alien. Who better to have information than a bona-fide alien hunter?"

"Why not check out your boss' files?"

Max shook his head. "No, that wouldn't work. Milton has a ton of stuff, but he doesn't have the minute clues that Valenti would. Besides," Max's jaw clenched, "I think we're all dancing around the fact that we're expecting a criminal record. Valenti's better for that than a paranoid UFOlogist."

There were silent nods of agreement all around.

Alex sighed, and turned back to the computer. "Fine," he murmured. "Stand back, and let me work my magic."

His fingers started flying across the keyboard, and Maria was immediately lost. She had no idea how he could even BEGIN to move that fast. Within ten minutes, he was sitting back in his chair, and a webpage had been called up: "Restricted Access Police Files-- Roswell, New Mexico."

"How the hell did you do that so fast?" Maria breathed.

Alex grinned. "What can I say? I'm a computer geek."

"You're multi-talented," Isabel amended, resting a hand on his shoulder and smiling warmly. The glow of the computer screen highlighted his sudden blush. Maria couldn't resist a grin.

"Let's get started," Max said with a smile, and they began.

Since they had no idea what they were looking for, they started simple. Basic description: Tall, dark hair, dark eyes, dark complexion. That pulled up about 6000 names, so they began the laborious process of whittling down the list.

Two hours later, Maria was yawning her head off, the hands on the clock read eleven thirty, and the group didn't appear any closer to figuring out just exactly who Desmond was.

"Guys, I don't think I can do this much longer," the petite blonde said through a yawn, stretching like a cat.

The other three looked at her with bright eyes. //Sure. They didn't have a five hour shift at the Crashdown immediately before this!// "You sure, Maria?" Liz asked.

Maria nodded, and stood slowly. "Oh, yeah." She leaned back and heard an audible crack, making her wince. "I'm going to go home and go to bed."

"Do you want me to walk with you?" Liz inquired.

Maria held up her hands. "No, that's all right, Lizzy. I know the way. And any big bad nasties that get between me and my bed had better watch out." She mimed a kung-fu stance, and smiled.

Liz grinned. "All righty. We'll see you tomorrow then, Maria." There was a chorus of goodnights from the others.

Maria turned and started for the door. "Let me know if Creepy Guy has any criminal tendencies, 'kay?"

"Will do."

Swinging the door open, she turned back into the room and arched an eyebrow. "Don't stay up too late, guys," she warned with an evil grin. "Remember, brain-sucking aliens walk the streets of Roswell, New Mexico at night."

Alex grinned at her over the top of the computer. "Get out of her, Deluca," he teased.

"Later, guys!" she said softly, before slipping out the door towards the call of her bedroom.

******

Two pairs of eyes watched Maria as she made her way up the walk to her front door. There was only one car in the driveway-- Amy had taken a trip to Phoenix for a massive buyer's convention. Convenient. Very convenient.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Desmond asked the young alien beside him. "There's still time to back out..."

"No," the hatchling said firmly. "No, I want to do this. For my father. And my mother."

Desmond allowed himself a small smile. "Yes. For your mother. She was very beautiful." He sighed. "Do this for her memory, Michael. She deserved better than she received."

The youngling nodded, and Nacedo could see his shoulders quivering with fury as he watched the female turn her key in the lock and open the door into darkness even more complete than the moonlit night. She disappeared into the small house, and the door swung shut behind her.

"For my mother," the hatchling muttered, then started across the street.

"Yes," Desmond murmured under his breath, once the boy was out of earshot. "For Ruth."

Go to Part 4: Windows