The Salvation

Alex hit his ball down the faded purple carpet. His didn't get through one of the moon craters, either. "This is… it's big."

"That's not all," Isabel told him. She wanted to get everything out, needed to, but her hands were getting sweaty and her heart was pounding. "Trevor asked me to go with them. And I just have no idea what I should do. I was making myself insane, then I realized that I needed to talk it over with someone." She shook her head. "No. I needed to talk it over with you. I knew you'd help me figure out what I should do."

"Are you two golfing or what?" a kid yelled from behind them.

"Hey, pip-squeak. This is a serious game. For serious people. You can't respect that, I suggest you leave," Alex said. He took Isabel's hand and led her down the fairway, grabbing both their balls and throwing them into the moon crater. A few seconds later they clunked into the metal cup on the other side. "That's two holes in two. Write that down with one of those little pencils," he told her. Then he led the way over to a bench by a shocking pink spaceship. "So, what are you thinking?" he asked.

"I'm thinking…" Isabel gave a helpless shrug. "I don't know what I'm thinking."

"I'm not saying you should go, but it would be kind of like living in Star Wars," Alex said. "I always wanted to live in Star Wars."

"Where everyone has long hair and gold bikinis?" Isabel chided.

"Not everyone," Alex said, sounding horrified. "Only the women." He waved the group of kids past them. "We're considering the strategy of the next hole. You can play through." He turned his attention back to Isabel. "That's only part of my Star Wars fascination. I just always thought it would be cool to be part of something so important."

"So you want to save the universe, surrounded by girls in gold bikinis," Isabel commented.

"Exactly. So many times I've felt like my life is so little and insignificant. And I daydream about having the chance to do something-dork alert!-heroic. Like Han Solo," Alex admitted, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. "Then when I found out the truth about you and the others, it's almost like I got the chance. This year we've had to deal with a lot of life-and-death stuff. Sometimes I wonder how it's going to feel to go back to freaking about zits on my back or whatever."

"Shopping for the perfect accessories," Isabel added. She stretched her legs out in front of her. "I don't think I'll ever find anything more meaningful to do with my life than help the beings who fought against the collective consciousness."

She didn't usually spend a lot of time thinking about meaning-of-life-type issues. It seemed like a waste. But that's what this decision was really about. Isabel had the chance to be a part of something enormous-the restructuring of a whole planet. Her real home.

"And the downside is?" Alex asked, raising his eyebrows.

"It would ruin my parents' lives," Isabel answered. She didn't even need a second to think about that one. "I'd just disappear. And they'd never stop looking for me, wondering if I was alive or dead. It's different for Michael. All the people that really matter to him know the truth. They'll at least know what happened. And he'll have his brother with him."

"You'd have Michael with you," Alex said. "And Trevor." He turned and watched the kids finish up the spaceship hole. "I get the feeling something may be starting between the two of you," he added, without looking at her.

"Maybe," Isabel agreed. "But I'm not going to go live on another planet because I like the way a guy kisses." Although there was more than kisses between her and Trevor. They'd known each other such a short time, but there was this comfort between them.

"The editors of Ms. magazine will be glad to hear it," Alex said, still looking at the kids.

Isabel reached out, took his chin in her fingers, and turned his head toward her. "It's okay that I'm talking to you about Trevor, isn't it?"

Alex met her gaze steadily. "Yeah. I get a little… ping, I guess you'd call it," he said with a shrug. "But it's just your basic guy jealousy crap. I mean, we're friends, Isabel. And I-dork alert again-I love you as a friend. I want you to have everything you want. Including Trevor if that's the way it goes down."

"I love you, too," Isabel answered. "And there's nothing dorky about it. God, I would miss you so much if I went. You, and Maria, and Liz. And it's not like I could just call you up if I needed to hear your voice. I couldn't even send my parents a Christmas card."

"When is all this supposed to happen?" Alex asked, looking away again. "When are Trevor and Michael going to go back?"

"They're going to use the wormhole we open to send the device," Isabel answered.

"So tomorrow." Alex sounded a little dazed.

Isabel knew how he was feeling. How could she make a decision about the rest of her life in less than a day?

"I told Trevor I needed to see how Max was first," Isabel said, following Alex's gaze out over the golf course. "If he needs me, I'm staying. That's it."

"But if Max comes through okay…" Alex let his sentence trail off.

Isabel took a deep breath and sighed. "Then… then I might end up going."

Stop! Maria ordered her feet. Stop right there.

But her feet kept walking as if they had minds of their own-walking back toward the museum, even though she'd only left the place a few hours before.

"Turn around," she pleaded, feeling so desperate, she was willing to be seen talking to her feet on a public sidewalk. The feet didn't obey. Step by step by step, they kept taking her closer to the museum. To Michael.

Her feet marched her across the UFO parking lot, then straight up the stairs. Maria's hand seemed to have its own brain, too. It opened the apartment door, without knocking, and then the feet moved her straight inside.

Just because I'm here doesn't mean I have to say anything I don't want to say, she thought. I can just tell Michael I thought I left my jacket over here or something. Then I'll just leave. If my demonic feet will let me.

Michael stepped out of the kitchen, and Maria's heart hit her throat. He looked at her like she was the very last person on earth he wanted to see. "Thought I heard someone come in."

Maria's feet walked her right over to him, not stopping until there were only a few inches separating her from him. He took a step back. The feet took a step forward. Okay, ask about the jacket, she told herself.

"Tell me the exact, precise, Michael-Webster-dictionary definition of 'I'm thinking about it,'" she demanded, her voice coming out loud and defiant. Oh, God. Her mouth was possessed, too.

"What?" Michael asked, his voice low.

"Don't pull any crap, Michael. We both know exactly what I'm asking you. Are you going? Or are you staying? Tell me. Right here. Right now," Maria insisted.

I didn't mean to say that! I didn't want to say that! she silently wailed.

Michael went into his usual lockdown mode, giving no indication of what he was thinking or feeling. "Look, I'm not asking for much. What I want is information. And if you're leaving, I want a good-bye. You owe me that much," Maria continued.

She didn't know who she was cha

Michael hesitated, silence filling the room all around them. All the power and fight evaporated from Maria's body. Suddenly she was in control of her feet again. And her mouth. Whatever Michael was going to say to her, she was going to have to hear without whatever force had gotten her this far.

"Good-bye." Michael's voice was flat. His eyes were on hers, but there was no hint of emotion in their gray depths. Not anger. Not sadness. Nothing. Something died inside Maria.