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"Aren't those the most adorable little strappy pumps?" Stacey cried, towing Alex toward A Walk on the Moon, the mall's shoe store. And they were off. Doing the promenade. Window shopping, or at least pretending to, but mainly walking the lower loop of stores, checking out who was with whom and being checked out in return.
Alex caught an envious look from Craig Cachopo, who was selling shoes since he'd quit his UFOnics job. He gave Craig a cool little yeah-I-know-we-go-to-the-same-school nod, and then Stacey was propelling him to the next store.
"Oh, that's tacky," she a
Alex murmured something agreeable. He spotted Steve Lydick, center of the basketball team, coming at them from the opposite direction. Alex pretended to study the jewelry display with Stacey, but he kept track of Steve from the corner of his eye. He knew the exact second that Steve saw him with Stacey-because a second after that Steve dropped his icecream cone on one of his size-thirteen sneakers.
Stacey caught the spill and giggled. "Hope we don't see you doing anything like that on the court," she called, hustling Alex over to a combination Indian artifacts-alien souvenir shop. She pointed to an inflatable green alien wearing a rhinestone tiara.
"How awful is that?" she said snidely. "Who would buy that thing?"
"Royalty should never be mocked that way," Alex said solemnly. "What would Princess Diana have said?"
"Exactly," Stacey said, smiling up at him.
Alex's eyes wanted to roll very badly, but he wouldn't let them. Yeah, Stacey was a fluffhead, but he was finding it amusing to spend an afternoon as part of the elite. When he and Isabel had made one of their few public appearances, people had always been whispering behind their backs, speculating on what she could possibly see in him.
But that wasn't happening with Stacey. Alex even caught a few girls shooting them glances that seemed to be asking what he saw in her. But no. That wasn't possible. He was probably just heady from Stacey's perfume.
After one full mall circuit and many "isn't that adorable" and "oh, that's tacky"s, Alex was thinking maybe the whole popularity thing was a huge sham. Were all popular people as bored as he was right now? Was Stacey actually enjoying this?
"Okay, there's still one place we haven't gone yet," Stacey said coyly. She maneuvered him into a tiny alcove with a drinking fountain and one bench. In all the years he'd been coming to the mall, Alex had never even seen it before.
"Is there something adorable or tacky back here?" he joked.
A tiny wrinkle appeared between Stacey's eyebrows. "You mean you don't want to?" she asked.
And then he got it. He'd just been initiated into one of the mall make-out areas. He sat on the bench and pulled Stacey down next to him. That's all the invitation she needed. A moment later her soft, bubble-gum-lip-gloss-flavored mouth was busy kissing him.
I don't even like this girl, Alex thought. Liz would have a fit if she could see me. She'd say I'm shallow and superficial and-
Stacey nipped his earlobe as if she could sense that his mind was wandering. Alex responded by concentrating on kissing the side of her neck until she was squirming with delight.
Forget Liz, he thought. This is just for fun. And I was held prisoner on a hostile planet. If anyone deserves some just-fun time, it's Alex Manes.
"This is an exact replica of the Partridges' living room," Elsevan DuPris told Trevor. "I'm assuming you have heard of The Partridge Family. 'Really came together when Mom sang along,'" he warbled.
"I've seen a couple of episodes. The materials about Earth provided by the Kindred were very detailed," Trevor answered. He shifted uncomfortably on the sofa. It didn't feel right to be sitting so close to the leader of the rebellion-the being Trevor had idolized for as long as he could remember.
"Ah, the Kindred," DuPris said. "How are those of the Kindred?"
"It is becoming more and more difficult for them to stay hidden from those who have joined the consciousness," Trevor explained, eager to prove his usefulness to DuPris. "But obtaining the second Stone of Midnight and knowing it is in your hands has given them more hope than they have felt in generations."
DuPris nodded. "The era of the consciousness is almost over. Someday historians will look back at it and see it for the barbaric creation it was. They will realize it reduced sentient beings to the state of hive insects without individual freedom or even the desire for individual freedom."
"I will do anything to help you shatter the consciousness," Trevor vowed. "I will make any sacrifice."
He had dreamed about having the chance to say those words to the rebel leader for so long, but a lance of pain ripped into him as he flashed on what he'd already lost. Michael was his brother, his only living relative. He'd welcomed Trevor into his home, into his life. And now-
DuPris reached out and grabbed Trevor by the wrist. Trevor felt a tingling sensation in his brain and then a searing burst of heat.
"Thinking about your brother. How sweet," DuPris said sarcastically. He let Trevor go, then combed his slicked-back hair with his fingers. "Don't you see that sentiment for family groupings is the same kind of thinking that brought about the creation of the consciousness? Every being must take responsibility for itself. It is the only way our planet will ever reach its full potential."
Trevor nodded, clamping down on the burst of anger he felt at DuPris for reaching in and snatching thoughts out of his head. He hoped there weren't any traces of the anger flickering in his aura. DuPris deserved complete loyalty. It was through him that the beings of the Kindred would gain their freedom.
"The first thing we have to do is reinvigorate the damaged Stone of Midnight." DuPris pulled a piece of velvet out of his pocket. He unwrapped it, revealing the lifeless Stone. "Every day you and I will co
Again DuPris took Trevor's wrist. A few moments later the co
An almond-shaped, pupil-less eye being cut from its socket by a clawed finger. A body consumed by fire, tentacles waving until they shriveled to dead strings. A mother and baby felled by a taser blast.
"No. No. Don't make me see it." Trevor's human body responded to his horror, his heart thrashing in his chest.
But the images kept coming. A hand reaching into a metal-studded abdomen as if it were as soft as clay and pulling free the secondary appendage. A young boy being forced to watch as his father was tortured.
Trevor tried to jerk his hand free, but DuPris tightened his grip, fingers brutal. "Little boy, did you actually think a revolution could be fought without blood?" DuPris asked, the question detonating in Trevor's head.
"I misjudged you," DuPris continued. "I thought that you were ready to join the rebel force, to work side by side with me."
"I am," Trevor gasped, fighting against the nausea still sweeping through his body in response to what he'd seen. "I am," he said again, more forcefully. This was what he'd been waiting for his whole life. Nothing was more important than the shattering of the consciousness. Nothing.