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Epilogue: The Circle Closes
That was five years ago. And a lot has happened since then.
For one thing, I watched the news like crazy, wondering if I was going to see my picture plastered up somewhere, or my parents on the evening news – not evading me, but looking for me. I never did, and although it kind of hurt, it was also a tremendous relief. Without worrying about being tracked down, I could use my ID and bank account to get a start on my new life, and it was surprisingly easy to rent a room and get a few part-time jobs.
I saved up what I could that first year, enough to go to school part-time the next year. And then I managed to get a scholarship and was able to register full-time. It was hard, and it was lonely, but somehow I made it. I now have a Bachelor of Science, and I’ve been accepted into a couple graduate programs. I haven’t decided which to pursue, though. I’m giving myself a few days to mull it over.
I’ve also been thinking about home. Hell, sometimes I have trouble thinking of anything else. What are they doing? Is everyone okay? Are they mad at me? Does anyone miss me as much as I miss them?
In a burst of daring I’d sent my parents a couple tickets to my graduation; no letter, no phone call, just the tickets. I felt a little ill afterwards, and I actually was ill when the day had come and I’d received no acknowledgement.
But I guess home was thinking of me too, because when I held out my hand to accept my degree, there they were – Mom, Dad, Maria, Alex, Michael, Isabel and even Kyle – cheering and clapping. And did they make a lot of noise when I got that chemistry award a bit later? You betcha.
God only knows how they all got tickets, but I didn’t care. I cried the whole time. I couldn’t believe they’d come, and it was all I could do not to run off the stage and hug them all right then and there.
I didn’t even ask about Max, I was just so thrilled to see them all again. And no one yelled at me or seemed mad. I think they were, which was fair, but it was a day to be happy for me and they were.
I gave them a quick tour of the campus and the residence I lived in, glad that I hadn’t gotten around to packing yet. I wanted them to see that I still kept pictures of them on my wall, that I saw them every night when I went to bed and every morning when I woke up. I even introduced them to a few friends, including a one-time roommate who knew who they were on sight, and Mom started crying when it became obvious how much I talked about them over the years.
Maria and Alex grinned knowingly, like they knew I wouldn’t just forget them, and I had to laugh at the way Isabel carefully made sure there weren’t any smudges on the picture of her.
When I told them that I had some time before grad school, they insisted immediately that I come home to visit. I was so happy I started crying again, and I showed them the bus tickets I’d already bought, destination Roswell, New Mexico.
It must have been funny to see Maria and I jump and down, squealing for all we were worth – and funnier to see Alex join in. Everyone laughed, anyway.
I should’ve suspected something when they didn’t ask me to drive back with them right away, but I was so happy I didn’t want to risk ruining my perfect day. I just waved them off and told them I’d see them soon.
It wasn’t over, though.
Max was waiting for me when they left, and when he asked if he could drive me home, I said yes.
It was a good drive. We stopped along the way whenever the mood hit us, or when we saw cheesy touristy stuff that we simply had to get pictures of ourselves with. We didn’t talk much, but when we did, it was quiet stuff, getting-to-know-you stuff. Like, acknowledging that we were both still single, and that I’d decided I wanted to teach science and do research, and that he’d done an abrupt turn-around and gotten himself a college degree too.
I was so proud of Max. He’d finished early and gone to law school too, and was currently articling at his dad’s firm. Philip already had the sign “Evans and Son” made up and ready to hang. I had to giggle, though, when he admitted that going to college had been more in self-defense than anything. Apparently a number of people (my parents included) blamed him for my leaving, and he’d needed to get out of town, to let the heat die down a little.
I’m no saint. I laughed at the look of discomfort on his face when he told me. Hard. But you have to understand, he just looked so innocently shocked at the notion that anyone would blame him for anything – and of course, no one ever had before then. But I’ll get to that in a moment.
When we saw the “Welcome to Roswell” sign, I made him pull over and told him that no matter what happened, I wanted him to know that I loved him, I missed him, and I hoped he was happy. I’d decided a long time ago that no matter where I ended up, I was going to let him know that. It just felt right, you know?
He smiled and said he understood, and that I didn’t owe him an apology. I almost interrupted him then, to point out that I hadn’t actually apologized for anything and wasn’t going to, but before I could he said that he owed me one instead. More than that, he owed me an explanation.
So I shut up and listened, and that’s how I got the greatest shock of my life.
See, the thing was, while I was gone I’d half-convinced myself that I’d made it up, or exaggerated it all in my mind. But then I finally found out the truth behind the conspiracy.
There was a conspiracy. And it was bigger than anything I could ever have imagined.
“You were our token human,” he said.
I sat there, stunned beyond belief. Aliens? Everyone in my hometown, aliens?
Except for me, of course. I’d been a mistake, a foundling traced back to some poor runaway human girl who’d gotten pregnant while hitchhiking, had me, then gave me up. They found me on the CrashDown doorstep one summer day and her body out in the desert a week later.
They’d kept her meager belongings. If I wanted, I could have them.
(You know, I still haven’t decided that one. But they’re not going anywhere; I have time.)
Like a lot of first-generation Hybrids (“aliens,” my mind marveled), Jeff and Nancy Parker had been unable to have any children on their own, and they’d been thrilled to get the chance to adopt a baby. And once they’d taken me in out of the cool night, they’d decided that I was the only one they wanted. It must have been a little like adopting a developmentally-challenged baby, now that I think about it, what with me being ‘handicapped’ by my under-evolved DNA and all. But to them, it didn’t matter. I was given to them to be their daughter, and they loved me.
God, my parents ... those trips they took while I was growing up? They were tracking down biological relatives of mine, to do a little testing on the sly to make sure I didn’t have any genetic-level problems that needed to be corrected. After all, I was human and prone to all sorts of frailties, and they needed to know what to expect.
Ironically, it was Philip Evans, the guy acting as Max’s father, who persuaded the town to let them do it in the first place, suggesting that this would be the real test of everyone’s ability to blend in to human society: raising a normal, totally human child.
In a way it was kind of shocking to find out that I really was being watched all my life, and that a group of people were deciding my fate on a weekly basis. Hell, every town meeting – the real ones, not the ones I knew about and attended – almost always featured some discussion of my development, and some debate about whether to let me date this boy or let me sneak out of the house with Maria and Alex, just like a normal teenager.
Strangely enough, I found it oddly reassuring to know I really wasn’t imagining all those things. I know, twisted logic, and in no way an excuse for how things went. But true nonetheless.
I did feel a little betrayed by my friends until I found out that they never told anything truly private. When I asked, Max seemed surprised that I had a journal, and said he’d never heard anything about it or where it was. And it was Maria who fought tooth and nail to stop the town leaders from sending someone after me to bring me back. Alex had backed her up, suggesting that they just keep a distant eye on me instead, so that if I got into trouble they wouldn’t be too far away.
He always was a good mediator. And now I know why I didn’t have any trouble getting an apartment or a job; the townspeople arranged on the sly to co-sign and vouch for me, and they weren’t above using a little psychic persuasion to ensure my safety.
I sniffled a little when I realized that no one was truly angry with me – they were just concerned, to the point where they risked exposure to take care of me. To think, something could have happened to them, and it would’ve been my fault.
Well, not really. But it would have felt that way. Which is only fair, because that’s how they felt about me. They’d studied Earth before moving here, and I believed Max when he said they were terrified that something would happen to me without them to protect me from the primitive, occasionally uncivilized natives.
Apparently Mom and Dad badgered the observation teams for any and every detail about my life, and they weren’t they only ones curious about things. And by that I mean everything, from whether I’d passed as a “real” human to why I’d made a fool of myself in a public park one day about a year earlier.
I thought back, and laughed. That was the day I’d finally understood this theorem that had been driving me nuts for weeks. A few students had laughed at my lunatic behavior, but I’d needed to get the thrill of discovery out of my system before I got back in the lab and put theory into practice.
Max laughed too, sounding relieved. The town meetinghouse chalkboard had been crowded with ideas and explanations for my odd behavior, he told me, but somehow they’d missed that one.
I smiled at that, but I sniffled too. I knew now that they really did love me. For the first time in a long time, I actually believed it now too, and that helped me get over a lot of my anger, because I was still angry, and hurt too.
Max admitted – openly, if abashedly – that he’d thought I’d met a guy that day, and he’d had to sneak out of the meeting to go work off some jealous anger on a poor, unsuspecting punching bag.
I couldn’t help checking out his rather nicely developed muscles then, and well, let’s just say I couldn’t help but be flattered. Just a little. And very casually, I mentioned that I never really got into the dating scene while at college.
He didn’t bother hiding his pleased smile at that one. He must have known, what with the spies and all, but he liked hearing it. I could tell. Then again, apparently he was used to getting his way. See, the one who loved me and watched me the most was none other than Max. Or should I say, King Zan.
You caught that part about Philip pretending to be his father, right? Right. Well, like I said, the first wave of settlers hadn’t been able to have children, something about the genetic adaptation still being in the experimental stages. So they raised the second wave as their children, correcting the chromosomal deficiency that would prevent them from procreating as well.
I can’t deny how happy I was to hear they’d fixed the problem, because there was no doubt in my mind that Max was going to have absolutely beautiful children.
The king thing, though …
Yup. I know, it seems weird, but he tells me he has proof. Until then, all I can promise is a little suspension of disbelief. I mean – okay, aliens. Right. That explains a lot. But it’s a whole other thing to find out you’ve been felt up by an alien king!
He still thinks it’s funny, by the way. That I’m okay with one thing, but the other is a bit much to wrap my mind around.
Max was supposed to have been awakened with the first wave of settlers, but his ‘minder’ said he wasn’t ready, and he was allowed to wait until the next generation matured too. That’s why he and Isabel grew up as brother and sister even though he was her great-uncle or something back on Antar.
Michael, Max’s second in command, was held back too, so that he would be able to stand by Max’s side all the way. Maria, Michael’s ‘significant other’ back on Antar, was allowed to stay in stasis too, along with a number of Antarians that opted to pose as the town’s younger generations as well. How sweet, huh? It worked out for them, though, and Michael and Maria were still together, just like Alex and Isabel were.
I had to laugh again when I remembered what I used to think about them being together. Who would’ve thought they really were genetically paired?
It didn’t work so well for some others. Michael’s parents, for instance, hadn’t adjusted well to Earth, and they’d been miserable and made him miserable too. In a way, I’m part of the reason why he’d left home so early, because they were purists and didn’t approve of him being friends with a human, nor did they approve of Maria in this lifetime because she was my best friend. Finally he just had it with their bigotry and chose Maria and me and human nature over them and the past they couldn’t get over.
I admit, I’m a little impressed. He’s a better man than I ever gave him credit for. I don’t think I’ll ever actually tell him that, though. He might die of shock, and that would upset Maria.
Oh, and Zan’s past-wife, Ava – Tess, of all people! – had been held back too, but this was another case where it didn’t work out. All of a sudden they didn’t have any chemistry together, and she was more interested in being a cheerleader and dating football stars than she was in being a queen of a planet that didn’t exist anymore. Max had released her from her ceremonial obligations with a light heart, and then he went back to his favorite hobby of some years.
“Which was?” I asked, when he didn’t elaborate.
He smiled crookedly. “Watching you.”
Oh.
Oh.
Holy crap, huh?
There I was, in the middle of nowhere, finally getting the answers to everything I’d ever wanted to know, and they were nothing like anything I could ever have imagined.
But I believed him, and more importantly, I wanted to believe him. Now that it was my choice, now that I had the freedom to choose, all I wanted to do was go home and be with the people I loved, even if one really was an ex-monarch of a dead planet.
I was tired of being lonely, I hated being away from everyone and everything I’d ever known, and I’d made my point.
Neither of us spoke right after he shared that last bit, but I knew he was waiting for my response, and I knew he wasn’t half as calm as he was pretending to be.
“This is going to take some getting used to,” I commented, my eyes locked on the horizon outside my window. Understatement, of course. I was due for one hell of a freak-out. Just … maybe later.
I didn’t see him do it, but I think he nodded. And then he waited some more.
Finally I turned and smiled at him. “Thank you for telling me. Let’s go home, Max.”
He nodded and started the car, but then he turned it off again. He smiled at me instead, looking like he didn’t quite trust himself to speak but he really needed to tell me something.
I had to blush, because I thought I knew what he meant. There was still a lot to work out, I knew, but right then I felt like a little kid again. At the same time, I felt gloriously alive, and wise, and utterly feminine, and … well, like a woman who wanted a man.
That time I kissed him first.
So we’re back, and they’re all waiting for us, and it’s kind of overwhelming.
Growing up in Roswell, I always kind of felt like I didn’t belong, like I wasn’t part of the human race. The irony, eh? And then I became part of human society, but it didn’t feel like home.
To think, this whole time there really was a conspiracy, but it wasn’t me that was different, it was them. But now that I think back, on some level, I think that I always knew.
It’s the eyes. I can still tell by the eyes.
In a lot of ways, it’s a perfectly normal homecoming. My friends and family are here and we’re hugging and gushing over how good everyone looks and how pretty Maria and Michael’s baby is, and how much we missed each other, but now I can see how the reactions are different. It’s nothing obvious, maybe just a tightening of the features at an odd moment, but all of a sudden I’m aware of just how much more my words of home and family and love mean to the people around me.
They’ve lost their home, just fifty thousand or so refugees from an entire planet, and they’ve taken their lives in their hands to make an incredible journey here, one with no guarantee of success. They know they might be persecuted if the wrong people found out, and they know they’ve taken a huge risk with me.
There have always been humans in Roswell, of course, but over the years most of them have obeyed a gentle ‘urge’ to relocate – somewhere warmer or cooler or closer to the coast or farther inland. By the early eighties, the only humans still living in Roswell were either hermit types who had virtually nothing to do with anyone else or die-hard tourists. It wasn’t hard to release generation after generation of genetically adapted Antarians from their pods in relative secrecy as long as the town elders followed expected population growth patterns.
I can’t decide what I think about them exploiting alien mythologies for commercial purposes, but I guess that if it doesn’t bother them, then I won’t let it bother me.
Still, I’m never really going to be one of them. I’m just human, after all, and the fact remains that I’ll never command the kinds of powers at my fingertips as they do. And there will always be some people who will be suspicious of me, of the threat I pose to them, and it’ll take me a lifetime to prove that I would and will never turn on them.
I’ll do it, too. I’ll prove it. But I’m going to set some boundaries too. I need some privacy, after all; I’m not a science experiment, and they need to learn that I make my own decisions about my life. Besides, secrets drove me out of my hometown and only honesty and trust will bring me all the way back.
I lied before. There was no end. There wasn’t really even a beginning, because it was started hundreds of years ago by some highborn scientists in another galaxy, people with a vision and some resources and a whole lot of faith and courage. And their story won’t end with me.
But right now I have my parents and I don’t care that we’re not blood related. They’re my family, and my friends are my family, and standing next to me is a man who loved me enough to let me go, and one day soon I hope he’ll be an even better kind of family.
I’m part of the conspiracy now, and I like the view from the inside.
I think I’ll stay a while.
The End … Really.
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