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 Liz opens her eyes. "Follow your heart ... wherever it takes you. Promise me that." Was her grandmother trying to tell her more than the obvious? What was she missing? Her grandmother had been there. She was the woman archaeologist. All this time Liz thought she was the only one. Now she knew. Her family was connected to the aliens. Deeply connected ... since 1947.
Liz sat up in bed. She ran her fingers through her hair as she thought. What did she really know about her family? Her grandfather ran a bar during the '40s that catered to the military and sometime after the crash, it had become the family establishment that it is now ... probably to take advantage of alien chasing tourists after Roswell's military importance diminished. After her grandfather died, her dad took over the "family" business and her grandmother continued her archaeological career. But what else did Liz know? Very little.
So how could she know so little about her own family? The Parkers were a four-generation family in Roswell, but where did they come from before that? She knew she had some Indian blood through her grandfather, but genealogical roots wasn't table talk. It was only reflected in some of the decor of her parent's home -- the furniture, the decorative arts -- but it was typical southwestern decor, something to be expected in their corner of the country. If they had any particular significance, she didn't know. She had never asked. With all her curiosity about the world and the things in it, she never once gave her own family background a thought.
Liz loved her parents in the way all teens loved their parents -- at arms distance. But ... as much as she loved them, she struggled for an identity separate from them. That didn't make communication about anything personal easy. Typical teen stuff was hard enough, but her life was anything but typical these days. Really, what could she confide with her parents? And to know anything personal about her parents ...OMG, she couldn't even imagine it.
Now Grandma Claudia had been a kindred spirit. She wanted to know everything about Grandma. But they talked mostly about her travel to exotic places, her work, and Liz ... never about the specifics of Grandma Claudia's life in Roswell or her grandmother's family. Liz only had only hints from her parents as they sat in the waiting room in the hospital before she died. Now, she wished she knew more. She resolved to talk to her parents at breakfast.
 "You can't be serious," says an incredulous Mr. Seligman.
"Michael Guerin has potential. He just doesn't have focus," returns Charles
"Or the patience."
"He didn't actually start out with a full plate, did he?"
"Humans constantly overcome their deficiencies and make incredible contributions "for the greater good. Mr. Guerin is not human. He's a teenaged boy."
Charles laughs.
"What and who is 'the greater good?'" asks Charles as he uncovers the pictures Mr. Seligman hid of Max and Liz. He holds up the picture of the couple, hand in hand, so that Mr. Seligman can see them.
"They were at the cave and made up some excuse about Claudia Parker's book."
"You didn't believe them?"
"Let's just say that Mr. Evans and Miss Parker probably weren't interested in astronomy or archaeology at that particular time of day."
"Ironically, it is the stars that join them," says Charles, drawing the Royal Seal from Max to Liz, from Max's shoulder to his elbow to the couple's joined hands, to Liz's elbow to Max's shoulder. "Royally."
"Max distracts Liz from her future," says Mr. Seligman, "from the knowledge she needs to acquire. It's imperative that Max does not interfere from her 'chosen' course."
"Max is her future," returns Charles quickly. "It's all as intertwined as their fingers. You needn't worry about Liz. Her curiosity about life leads her to the knowledge she needs as long as knowledge expands the mind and does not close off the possibilities."
"What if she sacrifices everything, even science to Max?"
"Just knowing Max forces Liz towards science."
"I hope you are right. Miss Parker is the brightest of the brightest. I've never had such a talented student."
"The future of the universe rests in both their hands. We must not interfere."
Isabel pours a glass of orange juice for herself and Max.
"Mr. Seligman is harboring alien hunters?"
"I didn't say that," says Max, taking the glass and gulping down the juice.
"So what are you saying?"
"He's with the SETI program. He searches for extraterrestrial life by listening to radio waves from space."
"So why is he here ... in Roswell?"
"I suppose the same reason why Brody is here."
"The message from Mom?"
"The signal from the orb was picked up everywhere. Anyone who had access to the right equipment probably picked up the orb signal as a microwave anomaly."
"So he is looking for us."
"Is, can we talk about this later? I'm late."
"Where are you going?"
"Breakfast."
"Liz. Should have guessed."
"Just be careful. If Mr. Seligman has been following Liz and I, then this man could be tailing any one of us. Just stick to routine."
"Max, nothing's been routine since you saved Liz." Max uncomfortably shrugs and heads for the door..
"Then try to act normal."
"As if..."
When Liz enters her family kitchen, she finds only her mother picking up the remains of breakfast.
"Where's Dad?"
"Downstairs. He's trying to fix the ice cream shake blender again."
"Oh," says a disappointed Liz.
Her mother turns, alerted by Liz's tone of her voice.
"Is there something wrong?"
"No, no," reassures Liz, "I just wanted to ask him something about the family."
"Really?" says Mrs. Parker. "Well, maybe I can help." She drops her dishcloth and pulls out a chair at the kitchen table.
Liz folds into one of the other kitchen chairs, sitting on one foot.
"I was just reading Grandma's book and there was just this little bio... and realized how little I really know about her, the Parkers ... all my family."
"There's not much to tell."
"But weren't you ever curious about your own family?"
"Liz, what's this about?"
Liz shrugs.
"Don't you ever wonder about where your family came from ... what they did?"
"My father was in the army. That's how we came to Roswell. And I was born here."
"Yeah, I know all that ... but what about before that?"
"I suppose I never thought about it. It didn't seem to matter."
"That's the point. I know the Parkers have been here for four generations, but how did they come to Roswell? Why settle in here?"
"You'll have to ask your father that one, but I don't think if he really knows."
Liz pulls at the sleeve of her shirt, trying to hide the bruise on her wrist.
"This isn't just about your grandmother's book, is it?"
Liz is slightly taken aback. Suddenly, she feels trapped, like maybe she said too much.
"History," Liz improvises. "Personal history. We have this dorky assignment ... and I got to thinking that Max, Isabel, and Michael don't know anything about their biological families. They were too young to remember and me ... I don't have that excuse. Here I have this great family and I know little more that Max and Isabel. It made me feel a little guilty."
"Honey," says Nancy, giving her daughter a reassuring hug, "I think that's the way it works with most families."
"Yeah, maybe."
"I think your father has some of your grandmother's journals in the bedroom," says Nancy, watching her daughter's interest peek. "I don't think he'll mind if you read them."
"Really?"
"He hasn't been able to bring himself to look at them, but I don't see any harm if you read them."
Nancy gets up from the table and quickly returns with a box stuffed with papers and journals.
"If you find anything interesting, you can tell us."
"Thanks," says Liz, beaming. This was way better than she was expecting. She wraps her arms around the box.
"Don't forget about your appointment with Dr. Fink."
"I won't."
Liz pulls the box from the table and heads for her room.
Maria ties on her apron and punches in. Michael watches her through the door as he prepares the grill for breakfast. She punches through the swing door without looking in Michael's direction and spots Mr. Parker fiddling with the ice cream shake machine.
"Hi, Mr. Parker," she says.
He smiles and waves.
"You oughta let Michael look at that."
He nods as Maria checks the clock, then heads for the front door. She peers out the front door. No one there yet. She flips the sign to open, unlocks the door and heads behind the counter.
"I'm serious," she says to Mr. Parker, "Isn't Liz working?"
"I let her sleep. Agnes is coming in at seven."
"Lucky me!"
Max saunters in and heads for a booth. Maria whips out her pad and strolls over to Max.
"Where's Liz?"
"Bailed."
"Is she okay?" asks a concerned Max.
"Haven't seen her, boss. What's going on?"
No sooner does Maria say the words when Liz pops in from the back. Liz immediately spots Max and her eyes light up. After a quick wave to her dad, she slips into the seat at Max's table.
"Hi," she says, looking from Max to Maria. "I have a doctor's appointment at eight so I can't stay long."
"Are you okay?" asks Maria.
"Yeah, but my parents want me checked out."
"What for?"
Liz flips up the back of her shirt.
"Oh, nasty! Why don't you let Max fix it."
"I can't do that. Everyone's seen it. It would look funny if it just disappeared."
"Does it hurt?" asks Max.
"A little," returns Liz. It really hurts more than Liz lets on. She wishes that Max could heal it for her but knows better to ask.
"So we have we learned from all this?" pipes Maria.
"Grandma Claudia was at the crash site," whispers Liz.
"For real?"
"She actually witnessed one of the aliens being killed by the military."
"There's an underground of people who have been helping Nasedo ever since," adds Max.
"Grandma Claudia, River Dog and Atherton were part of that group."
"How many people know about this?" asks Maria.
"We don't know," says Max.
The door opens and to Maria's astonished eyes and dropped jaw, Mr. Seligman and his friend, Charles, come in and sit in the booth behind Max.
"What's he doing here?"
Maria turns to Liz who cautions Maria with a shake of her head.
"Having breakfast," says Max calmly. Maria takes a deep breath and whips out her order pad.
"I'll have some oatmeal," says Liz. "And a cup of tea."
"Coffee, black."
"Anything else," asks Maria.
Max shakes his head.
"You really should have something to eat," says Liz, nodding.
"Umm, okay. Heuvos Rancheros," decides Max, who really was very hungry, " and maybe some of those nuclear sausage saucers. Thanks."
Maria goes straight to Seligman's table.
"Mom made special arrangement for me to see Dr. Fink right after I have breakfast," says Liz. She looks over Max's shoulder. Charles stares back at her. It made her slightly uncomfortable, but she holds his gaze. He smiles and turns to Maria to give her his order. Liz looks back at Max.
"So what are your plans for today?"
Max shrugs.
"I haven't made any."
Liz badly wanted to tell Max about Grandma Claudia's journals but this wasn't the time. Seligman's friend was definitely one of the unidentified men in the photograph and he hadn't aged a day. He had to be an alien, but was he friend or foe? There was no way to be sure ... yet. They had to be careful. After all, Nasedo was supposed to be a friend. But he had killed Atherton and many others and there was the matter of the infamous Nasedo Pact. And of course, there was Tess who had played them all so perfectly ... and killed Alex and almost sent Max and Isabel to their deaths.
Liz was absolutely sure that Seligman's friend was eavesdropping as well as observing everything that was taking place. Now she was not sure about Mr. Seligman. It now seemed to her if Seligman were friends with this man, he must know all about pod squad. Extreme caution had to be exercised.
"Heuvos Rancheros," says Maria, plopping Max's breakfast on the table, followed by Liz's oatmeal. "How can you eat this stuff! It's like eating pasty wallpaper."
Liz smiles, pushes the Tabasco sauce towards Max.
Michael comes up to the table.
"Sausage saucers," says Michael to Maria, "You forgot them."
He drops the on the table.
"So when do we party?" he asks. "I get off at two."
Max and Liz exchange looks through half-eaten bites of food.
"Why don't you and Maria meet us about four at the usual place. We can have an early dinner before the movie?" says Max, then to Liz, "Is that okay with you?"
Liz nods, then adds, "Unless Dr. Fink grounds me." She looks at her watch. "I've got to go. My mother will kill me if I miss this. Later."
Liz slips from the booth.
"Miss," chimes in Charles, holding up his coffee cup, "can I get a refill?"
Michael heads back into the kitchen.
"Sure," says Maria, "I'll be back in a sec. Your breakfast should be right out."
Turns back to Max, rolls her eyes, and goes to retrieve the coffee pot.
Liz sits impatiently in Dr. Fink's office, in a drafty dressing gown. She really did not want to be here. She had at some point, hoped to let Max heal her bruises. But that wasn't really possible after her mother saw them. Now, she had an even bigger problem. The bruise on her wrist had disappeared and the one on her back was rapidly following suit. How was she going to explain this to the doctor ... and more importantly, to her mother? She probably could have talked her way through the wrist bruise, but the one on the back, it had been too big and too dark. She only hoped that Dr. Fink would hurry up ... before it completely disappeared. Thankfully, her prayer was answered.
"Liz, how are you?"
"Better, thanks! I don't think they were as serious as they looked."
"Well, let me decide that."
Dr. Fink takes her hands.
"These were bruised?"
"Just the wrists." Dr. Fink turns her hands to see her wrists.
There's not a mark to be seen.
"See."
He next examines her back. The ugly bruise that had been there as shrunk dramatically. Dr. Fink touches it. Liz doesn't flinch.
"How does that feel?"
"Sore," she lies. He presses harder.
Nothing. He frowns and looks back at the report that had been faxed to him.
"I'd like to run a couple of tests"
"Why?" asks Liz, a tad alarmed. "They're getting better, aren't they?"
"Yes," he confirms. "I just want to make sure the kidney is functioning properly."
"But I haven't been having any problems."
"Sometimes, what doesn't show on the surface is more important than what does."
"What do you want to do?"
"Liz, is there something you're not telling me?"
Max had thought about waiting for Liz at the Crashdown, but he thought better of it. He was having strange feelings about the cave dwelling ever since he and Liz found the room ... as if he were on the verge of another discovery ... another unpleasant discovery. Antar had become a real place for him. He remembered ... or thought he had. He wasn't sure anymore since Tess was involved. He totally distrusted anything having to do with Tess ... even these memories. He was no longer sure if they were his memories or something Tess implanted in him. The thickened red water on Antar did feel real to him and Damaris Rock ... as warm and desert-like as anything he knew in New Mexico and Arizona. Perhaps it was even why the protectors stashed them in Roswell ... because it was familiar ... like home. Tess had helped him remember these moments. But now ... there were memories ...a heady sulphur smell ... of war ... of a bloodied face with triangular eyes, someone decidedly not human, someone to be feared. His only consolation, his comfort was that at the end of all this trepidation, he came back to Liz. Time, distance, separation, it didn't matter. Wherever destiny took him, it always brought him home to Liz.
This strange book in his hands, it meant something and nothing. With the Destiny translation, he only had deciphered a small portion of this new book. But he feared what it might tell him. The Destiny Book with all its references to human abduction ... it seemed the human race was nothing but lab rats for the grand experiment to save "The Royal Four." Yet he knew it had to be far more extensive. If Pierce had been eradicating "alien colonization", the implication was that Roswell was only a blip in a larger alien presence on Earth and Roswell was only important because the "blip" brought the "Coming of the King." Had aliens arrived before Roswell to prepare for "his coming?" That couldn't be. It made him sound like "God" and he knew he wasn't "God." He hoped no one saw him as "God". He was only a boy, not quite a man, not quite a king. How much he only wanted to be that boy ... not alien, not a king ... just a normal boy in love with an extraordinary girl ... Liz.
Liz ducked into her room, hoping her parents wouldn't get too curious about her doctor's appointment. She had spent her time on the bus trying to think of an excuse that would seem plausible. She lifted up her shirt and peered in the mirror. The bruise on her back has completely vanished. How could that be? Well, she already knew that. She was changed ... and changing everyday it seemed. Now she could add mysterious healing capabilities to astral projection. How was she going to explain it? Maria!
She dials the restaurant number. Maria immediately picks up.
"That was fast! Where are you?" asks Liz.
"Kitchen, Space Boy set the grille on fire," says Maria.
"What? Is everyone okay?"
"All under control. Firefly took care of it."
"Did my Dad see anything?"
"Nope. Had his back turned. He's still trying to fix that shake machine. I told him he ought to let Michael fix it. I really think your dad has masochistic tendencies."
"Maria, stop. I need your help."
"Why, what's wrong?"
"You know that bruise?"
"You mean that dark matter?"
"It's gone."
"What do you mean, gone?"
"Gone, gone. Completely healed."
"So what's the problem?"
"Dr. Fink and my mom. I need you to do something for me. Can you come up on break?"
"What do you need?"
"Make-up."
"I get you. A little FX. I'm there in ten."
Liz hangs up the phone and stares at the box she dumped on her bed earlier. She rummages through the contents while she waits for Maria and picks up something that sparks her interest. Chills ripple through her head. She holds a tattered, well-read article entitled "Star Children -- Forensic Ancestry of Native Americans".
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