Starcrossed

Chapter 11b: Rigel (part 2)

CHAPTER 11 (part 2)

Rigel (RY-jel): an extremely hot, rapidly-burning star

"I think it might be wise to include more stringent and specific rules in the portion of this, ah, handbook intended for young people," Allister continues, "as they constitute our greatest risk of discovery."

I have to practically glue my mouth shut, I'm so tempted to tell Allister his precious nephew is carrying an omni around in his pocket. Should I? For the good of our people?

No. That's not my real reason and I know it. My real reason is petty. And stupid, because there's no way Sean can come between M and me, no matter how much Allister wants him to.

"It, uh, might not be a bad idea to say somewhere that kids can't take any kind of Martian technology to school," I suggest instead, proud of my restraint. "That way they won't be tempted to show something off to impress the other kids."

"An excellent point, Rigel. Of course, that goes for abilities as well as technology." Shim looks from me to Allister, and I know he's thinking of me on the football field and Sean on the basketball court.

Last year at Center North High School, near Indy, I was a good player for a freshman, but not any kind of phenom. Since coming to Jewel, though—since bonding with M—I've improved so much it sometimes does feel like cheating. My parents finally made me promise to hold back so I wouldn't attract too much attention, though I don't think they'd mind if I landed a football scholarship.

I haven't seen Sean play basketball yet but I know he's good, from what M's friend Bri said. As more and more Martians come to Earth, will we eventually dominate most sports? And if we do, how will the Duchas—native Earthers—feel about that, if the truth comes out? I guess I can see Grandfather's point.

"Most Echtran kids have grown up in compounds and villages so far, right?" I ask, though I was an exception. "Will that be changing?"

I watch Allister, hoping he'll admit why he brought the O'Garas here to Jewel. He doesn't say anything, but my grandfather does.

"That's always been the suggested course, as it seems unrealistic to expect children—especially young children—to maintain strict secrecy."

"It's why we didn't tell you the truth until you were older," Dad explains, though I'd already figured that out. Duh.

Shim nods. "However, if we are to truly integrate into terran society, it makes sense to allow our youngsters to interact with the Duchas once they reach an age of reason."

"Particularly those who may eventually have a hand in guiding our people here on Earth," Allister says, not looking at me now.

He can't mean M, since she's lived like an Earther all her life. Does he mean Sean? Is he being groomed as Allister's successor or something? I can't ask without giving away how I feel about the jerk, so I keep my mouth shut. I'll just watch and listen and figure it out.

With barely any more input from me, the others hammer out the main points for their handbook or guidelines or whatever the hell it's going to be. It's nearly eleven when they finally call it a night—way too late for me to call M.

I can't help wondering if that's intentional.

I'm barely off the bus Wednesday morning when Sean O'Gara waylays me outside the school.

"Hey, Stuart! Got a minute?" He walks over and stops so close I'd have to crane my neck to look him in the eye. Not that I give him that satisfaction.

"What's up?" I glance past him toward the school, keeping my voice casual. No point turning this into a pissing contest. Yet.

"Molly and M had a real interesting conversation at our house last night." He says it too low to be overheard. "But you know how girls can be, all starry-eyed over nothing, so I figured I should get the scoop from you before jumping to conclusions."

His tone makes my fists want to clench but I force myself not to react. "I have no clue what you're talking about," I point out when he pauses like he expects me to say something.

"Glad to hear it. I guess that means you didn't really give M some stupid come-on line about the graell being real and try to convince her you guys are bonded?"

Now I do glance up at him. He's bigger than me, yeah, but I'm pretty sure I can wipe that smirk off his face. "How is that any of your business?"

His fake smile gets wider. "Oh, c'mon, Stuart, I thought better of you than that." Not. "You wouldn't really take advantage of her ignorance that way, would you? I mean, that line's so old, no other girl would ever fall for it. Guys back home have been using it for a few hundred years now."

That's news to me, but I'm not about to admit it. "Maybe it's not a line," I manage through clenched teeth. Asshole.

Now his eyebrows go up and he gives me this exaggeratedly sympathetic look that makes me want to punch him even more. "Oh, sorry, man. I guess, born on Earth and all, you're as naive as she is. But tell me this. If she were really bonded to you, would she keep asking me to walk her home at night? Think about it."

With a last obnoxious grin, he turns and walks into the school.

  

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