| We talk for a while longer and then Dad appears from the back to relieve us so we can get some sleep. He�s carrying Mom, who still sleeps. � I didn�t want to wake her yet,� he explains in a whisper. We nod our understanding. � Are we moving out tomorrow?� I ask. He nods. � Right after lunch. Make sure the kids are ready, if you would.� � Sure. So where�ll we go? Back to Mount Robson?� He shakes his head. � Maybe for a while to pick up a few things, but for a permanent stay, no. We�re going to go back past Mount Revelstoke and take the east passage to Castle Mountain and then go up to Condor Peak. We�ll probably stay there for a while, but your Mom wants to set up full base camp in Greenland eventually.� Greenland is a nice big island, isolated and cold. Perfect for resistance base camp. Emily and I nod our agreement. � Sounds good.� Unfortunately, a cold breeze wafts through from the tunnel entrance inside the cave and Mom wakes up. She starts to chew Dad out for not sharing the responsibility when he heaves a sigh and interrupts with, � Dana, why can�t you accept a nice thing when you get it?� She closes her mouth for a second, then humphs and says, � I�ve accepted plenty of nice things that I�ve gotten. And the one in particular that I�m thinking about continues to give me nice things at the cost of himself!� Dad rolls his eyes. � My first bout of insomnia in a relatively safe place in twenty years and the first nice thing I try to do I get chewed up and spit out for it!� � Fox, the only nice things you ever do are nice to everybody but you! You�re not happy unless you�re in pain!� Her eyes widen and she gasps. � Oh my God, I married a masochist!� With that she fakes a faint and Dad snorts and sets her carefully against one wall. � Don�t you move,� he orders, pointing a warning finger at her even though she�s not looking. � You just stay there and . . . Stay there.� Emily and I give he and Mom hugs and kisses, then call good-night as we head to bed. We hesitate outside the tunnel that leads to the community room and tune our hearing to our parents� voices (can�t do a DNA test on Emily�s blood, but she and Dad adopted each other anyhow). � Five children, Fox. Five.� A pause and then a quiet crack as the shell of a sunflower seed (where did he get those?!--and besides, that�s not fair because he�s supposed to share them with me!) breaks under pressure. � Technically it�s only three.� � Well, I�m talking reality, not technicality. We have five children and three of them are teenagers.� � So?� � Oh, come on. Don�t tell me you weren�t jumping at the chance of experiencing a poltergeist first-hand.� Another quiet crack. � . . . Poltergeists are the telekinetic powers of stressed people, usually teenagers. I know that for a fact because we have two telekinetics and both can move anything that is any size and weight with a thought, some concentration, and experience. Poltergeists, on the other hand, usually stick to sugar bowls and record players because they�re lighter and easier to be handled and thrown by a novice.� � You�re not coaching Will, are you?� � Of course I am because I�m the master telekinetic. Come on, Dana, work with me. What could I teach Will that Will couldn�t teach Will?� That would make sense to no one but the family. Which is exactly what Mom tells him. They share a laugh and Emily and I continue on our way to bed, secure in the knowledge that all is right as long as Mom and Dad can joke and make playful jabs at each other. I snuggle under my thick, warm blanket and begin to think about what could have been. If I had been an alien supporter, Mom and Dad and Will and the kids might be dead. If I had been an alien supporter and had borne the alien child there may have been a superalien that was impervious to human and alien illnesses alike and Mom and Dad and Will and the kids would still be dead. As well as me, of course, but that goes without saying. I then think about what could happen in the future. From the family angle, I may have cousins; Aunt Sam and a very attractive (I�m talking, �insert wolf-whistle here� attractive) resistance member seem to have some chemistry. As it is they�re snuggled together in the corner. (I don�t think Dad likes him, but I also think it�s a big brother thing because Will�s that way too with any guy who shows an interest in me . . . Oh no. No! Both Dad and Will subjecting a prospective date of mine to the Inquisition . . . I�m going to die single and a virgin!) Hm . . . Still thinking on the future, only this time it�s about the world. Maybe eventually we could kill all the aliens or get them to go away for good, at least, and we could start to rebuild our lives. You know, I think the one good thing that the aliens did by coming was reduce the population from such an alarming number. I hear a scared huff from nearby and twist to look behind me. Will is lying on his pallet, tossing and turning under his blanket. He seems to be in the throes of a horrid nightmare or remembering our less-than-acceptable childhood. He murmurs quietly and I know he�s going to get louder if I don�t wake him or just touch him and reassure him that I�m nearby, but I don�t really want to get up. We�d agreed never to tell Mom and Dad about our childhood because we knew it would make them sad and guilty when it wasn�t their fault. And it really wasn�t their fault. It wasn�t their fault that they were murdered trying to save us when we�d been kidnapped, and it wasn�t their fault that Will had to finish raising me in a cruel, cold, think-only-for-yourself world. Will starts to get louder and I finally move to do something as Emily stirs on his other side. I scoot over onto his pallet, pull him close, and tuck his head under my chin. He calms down right away and we both drop into a sound sleep. <--Division 10 X-Files Index--> |