Disclaimer: These characters
do not belong to me, but to the writers and producers of Roswell
Spoilers: After Chant Down
Babylon, changes happening where Max is successfully rescued, and Michael was
the one who broke up with Maria.
Pairings: You’ll have to wait and see!
Pronunciation Guide:
Author’s notes: Queen Fadilia
Kedar: Max/Isabel’s mother
King
Alaric Kedar: Max/Isabel’s father
Andaria: Tess’ mother
Radim: Tess’ father
Kedrans: race from which
Royal Four descended
Iturians: race from which Khivar descended, and overthrew and killed
Zan and the Kedrans
Cerideans: special core ops of the Iturian army, mostly
psyonics and telepaths
Kaptar’s
Jewel: constellation in the
Antarian’s star system
Yun’s
Garment: Aurora
Borealis - Northern Lights
Saren Dari: desert plain on Antar
dashka : good
luck charm
elkarl : Iturian hand weapon
capaechea:
long haired woolly creature, with long
flanks and a large hump on its back
kii: location where
various endangered animals are kept for protection
Mount
Freiweils: location of Loyalist secret base
Tir
Lamar: sister city to Eshtari
kashkar:
slur, equivalent to witch
plascer: plasma weapons, compact, length of your hand
Chapter Sixty Five
***
The finest and noblest ground on which people can live is truth; the real with the real; a ground on which nothing is assumed.
-
Ralph Waldo Emerson
***
The darkness seemed like a long inevitable event. How long
had she waited for that relief, for complete rest? Too long.
Thoughts, her thoughts were turning towards a warm light
that began as a small pinpoint only to expand and grow, as if opening its arms wide
to welcome her into its fold. Yet...
Darkness still clung to her. And shadows of the life she had
left burdened her heart, as voices of those she had loved beckoned her again.
The light that enveloped the darkness began to fade and the abyss behind lightened
once again, with faded shades of grey. She felt the pull back; as she stared
longingly into the peace that she desired – to be with him – she knew
unfinished business remained and she could not yet find that eternal
~~~ “Transportation will commence at 21:00 hours.” Khivar’s
homely image rolled across the cubicle screen. Their communications system
became static after the electric display caused by the former ‘mistress’ of
Antar, which had them reverting back to somewhat an archaic technology. “And no
mistakes, Nicholas,” the irritable ruler hissed. “I do not want this to get out
to the people and rumors of that troublesome Prophecy to begin spreading.” His
eyes darkened as the words tumbled past his lips. “I have but almost completely
dispersed with that rubbish and now you tell me that you let
them get away?” His pitch rose as it became evident to Nicholas that he would
hear about this incident at Saren Dari when he arrived at the palace. “Yes sir. General Garrick and I have prepared Pilan for
transport. We are just waiting for your men to complete loading the ship.” Nicholas swallowed hard. He hated to look the fool in front
of Khivar. No doubt remained in his mind that Garrick had ratted him out to
Khivar. It made him seethe to watch that pudgy puffball gloat, while he debated
what his next move would be. If he could locate the Loyalist base… “And how is the child?” Nicholas’ head snapped up at the mention of Zander. He
frowned. He really needed to stop thinking of him as a person. “Your
Highness, Zander is secure. I have surrounded him with a larger detail of
officers, in the event Ava and Rath return.” “Good. I don’t want anything to happen to that child,”
Khivar sneered. “You know how important he is to our plan. He will be
the nail in the Royal Four’s coffin.” The low, dark rumbling of laughter echoed
within the walls of the Com Centre, while his distorted image rolled upwards on
the blurry screen. “You will see, my King, everything will go according to
plan,” Nicholas nodded confidently, although his churning stomach seemed to
think otherwise. “Nicholas out.” He saluted before the small screen, as Khivar
nodded once, as his expression became solemn once again. A yellow flash of electricity flashed and then the screen
went black. He would see to it that the crown was placed securely upon his
King’s deserving head. ~~~ Kyle walked in and around the various silent bodies eerily
slain on the battlefield. Their faces expressed no pain – like they were just
sleeping – as he skittered across the desert. He was in a hurry as he
frantically searched for Liz among the many bodies. How could I have left
her? Kyle kicked himself over and over, as he quickly, but carefully
studied each female body that lay unconscious or dead. “Liz,” he whispered; as if he spoke any louder he would wake
the dead. “Where are you?” His voice was choked, as a lump began to form in his
throat. Searching each turned, petite figure, though knowing that she did not lie
clothed in the foreign uniform. As Kyle approached the looming, black shadow he had seen
from the distance, he watched, as it grew darker underneath his feet - the
spotted, black char knitted tightly together the closer he got towards centre
of the large circumference. Then something caught his eye, a small movement, and
no more than ten feet away. He dashed towards the form that seemed to be
crouched over something. Liz. ~ * ~ Frightfully he stumbled over the bodies, straining to
receive word on or find Liz and the others. From the onslaught before him, he
had high hopes that Max had been the victor; he could only hope. As he slowly
inched closer towards the dark-haired figure, Kyle knew that it was Max; he was
cradling something. His heart leaped up into his throat, not knowing if it was
for fear that it was Liz in his arms…or not. The soft sand sunk beneath his
runners, as he hurdled over bodies and skipped over a couple of small boulders.
Just as he was about to reach them he stumbled to his knees, causing the hard
blackened grains - some which had crystallized from the intense heat – to crash
against his jeans staining them a charcoal black. His hands skidded in front of
him, with his palms flatted, in an attempt to stop himself. Kyle glanced back,
to see what he had tripped over and saw…her. Kyle blinked several times at the stirring, yet silent
sight. He crawled over to the lifeless body; whose pale skin looked even more
so in the light of the moon. “Liz,” he whispered softly, as if trying to wake
her from a restful sleep. As he kneeled before her, his hands went
automatically to brush back her disheveled hair from her peaceful face. Her
lips were tinged with pink, signaling her unmoved form was still breathing.
Kyle pressed his index and middle finger against her soft pliable skin, just
below her jaw, for a pulse. It was faint. Without thinking, Kyle cupped Liz’s cool face and closed his
eyes, exhaling softly. “Oh please don’t die,” he gasped almost inaudibly.
Spinning around frantically he called to the faceless form. “Max. MAX!” ~~~ In the hazy fog that filled his head – a symptom which
always seemed to arise during an attempt to heal anyone – Max lifted his head
up drowsily, his eyes lolling to the back of his head. His brow furrowed as he
could have sworn he had heard his name. “Max!” There it was again. Suddenly he felt an arm grab him and spin his upper torso
around, until his gaze fell upon the stunned expression of one Kyle Valenti. Kyle didn’t even realize his grip fell away, as his eyes
remained on the ashen face that lay there. “Isabel…” His mind was racing and
all the images of the unknown faces he had turned over in search for his
friends flashed before him. His stomach churned as he stood there, surveying
the massacre that had occurred moments ago. Innocent people. They had all been so innocent. Kyle shook his head. He couldn’t think about this
now…couldn’t help them. He frowned, dropping to his knees. “What happened to
her?” he asked, still stunned. Max’s hands were stained with dry blood, as they
were pressed against Isabel’s side, the surrounding area of her clothes
drenched in blood. “She…s-she was so pale,” Max whispered, as he stared down at
his sister, managing to find his way back from the land-of-no-dreams. His head
was beginning to clear, and as he glanced beside him to where Kyle knelt, he
blinked once and shook his head. “Kyle?” Kyle’s gaze was glued to the drying, even more blackened,
and caked sand that formed an abstract image underneath her otherwise pale body
– the contrast was stark as her slender pale arm laid against the charred
ground. “What are you doing here, Kyle?” Max repeated his question,
trying to capture his high school classmate attention. This was no place for
him…for anyone. “Hmm?” Kyle finally managed to tear his eyes from the woman
he had come to care about more than he wanted to, after his experience with
Tess. Isabel never treated him like a sap or any fool. In the later days before
she had left, part of him envied Jesse’s luck for winning her love. Besides
Liz, there was no other woman he had learned to care about more...well, except
maybe Tess. But he didn't want to think about her. “You were supposed to leave,” Max said anxiously. “Where are
my parents?” Looking down at Isabel, he couldn’t imagine their reaction. It
would be too traumatizing. “What?” Kyle frowned as he tried to recall what the heck Max
was asking him. “You need to tell me what happened to her…” Max grabbed Kyle’s shoulders and squared his in-shock friend
to him. “Where. Are. My. Parents?” Kyle shook his head. “They’re fine.” He didn’t understand
what Max was getting at. “I did what you told me to do. Maria’s with them.” “Then why are you still here?” The accusation
in his voice was biting. “You need to get out of here. No one is safe here.” Kyle’s eyes widened. “Liz,” he breathed, glancing over his
shoulder. “You have to help Liz.” Max followed Kyle’s gaze to his first love. Liz. He
had been so caught up with the present danger to everyone that he had left her
in the same spot. Max had assumed she would be fine, as he woke up uninjured.
“How is she?” he asked, unable to move as he was trapped under the weight of
Isabel’s unconscious body, although he now felt her breathing ease, better than
her stifled, shallow breaths. Kyle folded his arms across his chest and shook his head. “Not
good, Max. You’ve got to help her,” he said nervously. Kyle watched as Max glanced furtively between two of the
most important people in his life. He understood his indecision. “Isabel’s bad,” Max sighed. “I don’t know if she’s going to
make it, Kyle.” He rested his left hand on her furrowed brow, caressing her
pale white skin, in an attempt to wipe away the hurt and pain. “Max…you’ve got to use that magic voodoo, mumbo-jumbo
and fix Liz!” His heart pounded against his chest as he read the fear on Maxwell’s
face. How did one choose between the woman he loved and his sister? “I know!” Max swallowed hard, pressing against his sister’s
neck and checking her pulse. It had quickened a bit, but not enough. It was
still faint. Sliding from under his sister, Max ran over to Liz’s side.
He pressed his forehead against hers. It was cold. All of the sudden he
couldn’t even feel her breath so much against his skin. Max leaned back on his
haunches and stared down at this woman whom he had loved from the moment he saw
her. Kyle watched Max brood over Liz. Did he feel guilty for
putting her through this? Then, an odd thought came sprung to mind. “Max,
wait. Isn’t this dangerous for you?” Max’s perplexed expression spoke volumes.
Kyle knew he wasn’t the guy’s best friend, but they had grown to trust each
other more as they shared a genuine protectiveness over Liz and Isabel. And Max
understood the betrayal and astounding redemption Tess had pressed upon both of
them. The question made Max pause for a moment. “What are you
talking about?” “Isn’t this why you and Liz couldn’t make love or
something?” Kyle hated the questions that flooded from his mouth; they left a
bad taste in his mouth, but they were true. They had gone through almost two
months of hell because of the reaction to…well, sex…. A thing he never thought
could be bad. Max knew that it was partly true. The make up of their
bodies and some genetic flaw were what kept them apart and made him deathly
ill. But what else can I do? Max shook his head. “I’ve just gotta trust
that this won’t do more damage than good,” he stated, somewhat hesitantly. “Max, don’t do this if you’re not sure,” Kyle warned. Max closed his eyes and took a deep breath. There were
some things he just couldn’t let happen, even if it meant reversing… ~ * ~ “Max! Kyle!” Kyle and Max stared wildly at each other at the unexpected
voice, anxious as to who would know where they had gone. Max scooped Liz in his
arms and moved her close to Isabel. If it was some trick… Over the sand dune three shadowed figures stood, their body
language seemed as if they were searching for something. Max turned to Kyle and
lowered his voice. “You find a place to hide them; I’ll deal with whoever this,”
he pointed up to the small figures scuttling down the sands, “is.” Suddenly a soft coughing began to sound from behind them.
Both Kyle and Max looked down to see Liz’s body moving – shaking more like it –
and she began to groan mournfully. The coughing then became more intense and labored. Kyle knelt down on one knee, as he brushed her hair back
from her face as she transitioned from coughing fits into cold shivers. “Max…”
He looked up at him worriedly. He didn’t know what to do. What could he do? Max glanced over his shoulder as the figures began closing
the gap. “You’ve got to get them out of here!” he growled, his heart pounding
as he watched Liz convulsing right before his eyes – a contrast to Isabel’s
silent, motionless body. “I can’t move her!” Kyle cried, waving his hands at
Liz’s flushed face. “She could choke or something!” “Damn it!” “Max!” a female voice called frantically. “Kyle!” a man’s voice beckoned. Kyle frowned. The voice sounded familiar. “Kyle!” The stilted jog of a broad shouldered man ambled
forward. In the light of the moon, he saw his father’s tired and worn
expression that spoke volumes of the worry Kyle had caused him. “What the hell
is going on here?” He had never been so glad to see his father’s scrappy old
mug. “Dad!” He launched into his father’s arms. “It’s a freaking
circus around here.” The strength of his father’s arms, which embraced him,
brought a wonderful sense of relief. He wasn’t alone. Valenti stepped back, turned and gazed at the hundreds of
bodies that lay scattered in the desert. “Max?” The Sheriff’s tone was ominous, almost foreboding, as Max
watched the man’s face fall. His dark eyes, shadowed by the rim of his hat,
emitted such a look of disappointment. “It’s a long story,” he began, but was interrupted
surreptitiously by a woman’s relieved cry. “Max!” Diane finished the last leg of the journey across the
empty desert, stumbling towards her son, who extended his arm out to brace her,
as she caught her breath. He closed his eyes and shook his head. Max glared at Kyle,
who looked as stunned as he was. “I thought you said that they were back in
Roswell.” Kyle shook his head. How had they ditched Maria? Just
as he was about to ask the Evans’ why they had returned, out of the corner of
his eye, he saw movement on top of the sand dune. “Max!” He pointed towards the
shadowed figures that were stumbling down the sand. Once seemed injured, while
another helped. “Who did you bring?” Max demanded, glaring at his parents as
if they were disobedient children. “I don’t think we deserve that tone of voice after you’ve
been lying to us all of these years, Maxwell.” His father’s tone held a sharp
distance Max had never heard before. It was a tone he usually reserved for
clients and strangers. “Kyle, Max, tell me what’s goin’ on?” Valenti pleaded warily. Again a loud, sharp high-pitched cough cut through the
raised and angry voices. Max turned around, as did Kyle, to see Liz’s body
seizing. Both dropped to the ground, giving Valenti and the Evans’ a full view
of what Max and Kyle had been hiding behind them. “She’s not breathing.” Max
lowered his ear to her mouth, which had begun to tinge blue. Quickly Max began resuscitation on Liz. Two quick breaths,
followed by five chest compressions – he had to get her breathing. After giving
her a second round of CPR, the petite girl began coughing hoarsely, yet, was
again breathing. “What happened to Liz?” Valenti asked, pushing his way
through the boys, who seemed tired. He bent down and checked her pulse, faint
and unstable. But before he could hear their answer, his eyes fell on the body
next to him and the blood that was caked on the tattered clothing. He tugged on
the nearest arm, which caused her to roll onto her back. Isabel? Valenti spun around to face their guilt-stricken faces.
“What the hell happened to Isabel?” The blood in his veins ran cold, as the
beautiful young teenager lay slain in the desert, horrendously hidden behind
Liz’s body. “She…” Kyle was at a loss for words. He didn’t know exactly
what had happened, but he could have guessed it was an all out fight for her
life. “I was ambushed…sort of,” Max said morosely. He glanced at
his parents. “Mom and Dad know that part of the story.” Valenti glanced briefly at the Evans’, whose faces were
already stricken with grief. Each stood frozen in their place, as if looking
through a glass pane down at their injured daughter. He hadn’t even considered
their feelings when he revealed her bloodied body to the open crowd. He sighed
regretfully. Then glancing down at Liz, who was paling even more, he knew that
there was no time for explanations. “We’d better to get them to a hospital.” He
slid his arm underneath Liz’s moist, shivering body and lifted her from the
cool sands. “Someone grab Isabel. I have a feeling she’s worse off than Liz,”
he grunted, while shifting his son’s ex-girlfriend in his arms. “No!” a foreign voice exclaimed. “She’s not going with you.” Max spun around to face the familiar voice. “Brody.” The
short, lanky Englishman was hobbling towards them, with his arm slung around
Maria’s neck. He frowned. “Is there not anyone that doesn’t know about
this place?” “Larek,” the owner of the Centre corrected softly. “And with
not much time.” “We can’t just sit around chatting,” Kyle exclaimed
nervously. “They’re in bad shape, as it is.” He glanced behind him, where his
father held Liz in his arms, while Mr. Evans was now picking up Isabel. “You may all leave,” Larek/Brody nodded tiredly. He slid his
arm from around Maria’s neck and stood up, still a little wobbly. “But Zan and
Vilandra are staying here.” “Again, with the Zan!” Diane cried out in frustration and
anger. The petite blonde strode up to the somewhat familiar man. ”Who are
you? And why do you keep calling my son Zan? And now, my daughter, who
is about to die from blood loss, Vilandra?” She spun around and faced
her husband. “We’re taking her to the hospital.” “You cannot,” Larek stated firmly, resting a firm hand on
Zan’s female guardian’s shoulder, preventing her from leaving. “They are not
able to come back with you…” Diane stared into the dark eyes of the stranger, who was
attempting to wrest her family from her grip. Her eyes narrowed and she shook
her head. “Then you don’t know my children,” she spat. Turning around,
she looked over at Max; and Phillip, who was cradling their little girl in his
arms. “They’re coming home.” Max lowered his head and sighed loudly. He hadn’t wanted
everything to come out like this, but his mother was in denial, even after what
she had been witness to. Glancing over at his father, who was rocking Isabel
back and forth, as if she were only ten, Max shook his head and gazed grimly at
his mother. “I’m sorry.” Valenti glanced furtively between the two – mother and son –
and felt Liz stiffen and begin to go into mini-convulsions. “I can’t wait any
longer. I’m taking her to the hospital.” He began to run on the soft sand,
which sunk beneath his feet, causing him to amble slowly across the plain. Kyle glanced over at Isabel and then Max. “You will come and
say good bye, right?” he asked, turning to Max. “Because you know I’d kick your
butt if you didn’t…heck, Liz would kick your butt.” He smirked. Kyle didn’t know if he would see him or Isabel again,
but a promise was as good as it was going to get. And he knew Maxwell was one
to keep his promises. Max nodded, a slight smile twitched from on the upper
corners of his lips. “Yeah, sure.” It wasn’t exactly a promise. Both knew the
changes this battle had made to the direction of both Isabel and his lives.
Where they once thought they could live peaceably, after the massacre and the
loss of Jesse, Maxwell didn’t know if that was possible anymore. He smiled at
Kyle, who had been much comfort over the past hour. Max would make his best
effort to try and do what Kyle was asking. Looking around, the whole situation
seemed so surreal. Was this actually happening? Suddenly he found his mother standing in front of him, face
to face. “What are you doing Max? What are you doing to this family?” Her eyes
pleaded with him for some logical explanation; he was sure if he had made up
some lame excuse about everything being a joke, she would be willing to believe
it, rather than coming to grips with the reality – her son was an alien. “Mom, “I’m so sorry. “ He paused, trying to find the words
that would make her understand. Max placed his hands gently upon her shoulders
and kissed her forehead. “I wish I could explain everything to you, but there’s
no time.” No time? Diane shook her head. “Well then make time,” she said in
disbelief. “I deserve to know the truth.” Max glanced over at Larek, who shook his head, warning him
not to do this. She was right. She did deserve to know the truth. “But
not right now.” “Then when?” Philip asked, lifting his gaze from his baby
girl to his only son. “When is a good time, Maxwell.” “When her life,” Max motioned to Isabel with a tilt
of his head, “is not on the line.” “That’s why we have the hospital, Max,” Diane pleaded. “Tell
us the story while we get there.” Max dropped his hands from his mother’s shoulder. “You know,
that they can’t fix her, Mom,” he sighed. “Just like they couldn’t fix me.” “Well you’re alive, aren’t you?” Max smiled faintly, as the reality of his mother’s trust and
belief in the truth of his words were so evident in those few words. “No.” He
slowly lifted his shirt and in the rays of the fading, yet still iridescent
moon, revealed the silver handprint that was forever etched onto his chest. “This
is why I’m alive.” Diane reached out; her fingertips lightly caressing the
glittering painted line of the petite hand tattooed on Maxwell’s chest. “What
is this?” she breathed. “It’s proof to you that I’m an alien.” ~~~ It is time to prepare yourself. 'The time is coming?' Yes. 'And it ends good?' It is not for you to know the outcome. 'Am I going to die?' "Come Zander," a low familiar voice echoed in the
otherwise dark plane. He felt his body floating, as if traveling through water,
as his caretaker lifted him from his resting place. "We are going home."