PART THIRTY FOUR

Serena entered the living room, followed closely by Tess, her jaw set with new determination. Max had the impression that she’d learned the necessary information from Tess, and was already moving on.

Tess settled on the floor beside Kyle again, but Serena remained standing, reaching for one of the empty coffee cups that Liz had arranged on a long wooden table under the window. She quickly filled her cup, tossing her ponytail over her shoulder as she turned to Max.

"You’re not ready to face Khivar, Max," she announced. "Not yet."

Max stared at Serena for a moment, until she turned away from him again, stirring cream into her coffee. He lifted his own coffee cup to his lips, taking a long, thoughtful sip. He felt the weight of everyone’s stares from all around the room, knew every last one of them were waiting for him to speak. The problem was, he had no idea what the right words were, so he considered Serena’s pronouncement carefully.

The coffee soothed his throat, which was a bit scratchy after his trek through the freezing rain the night before, and he savored it, wishing it were a magical elixir, the kind with prophetic answers. He sighed, and set the coffee cup on the small wooden table in front of him, adjusting a napkin beneath it.

"Serena, if you say we’re not ready, then I trust you," he answered quietly. "You know that you always have my trust."

"I’m not saying we can’t prepare you." Serena turned to face Max, absently fingering a thin chain she wore around her neck. "But your knowledge is limited right now, and if you’re going to face him, it’s time you knew everything."

Max shook his head slowly, digesting her words. "What haven’t you told us?" He felt irritation nag vaguely at him, and knew it was evident in his voice. "I thought you’d given us the full history…"

Serena cut him off with a brisk wave of her hand. "Max, there were things you weren’t ready to know."

"I’ve been ready for a year."

"No, Max," she answered, shaking her head as she stepped closer toward them all. "It would have been too much. I had to wait…you said you trusted me, so please accept that fact."

Max bowed his head, contemplating her words, and suddenly marveled at the utter silence that permeated the entire room. He glanced upward and found Michael staring at him, his brown eyes flashing in anger.

"Tell us everything, then," Max commanded, aware that he sounded a bit overly authoritative. Somehow he needed to exercise his role as leader, wanted to remind Serena that he commanded the revolution now.

Her eyes flickered with intense energy, as she faced him. "He’s interested in more than just you, Max. He’s interested in Earth."

Max’s heart quickened its pace at her words, as he instinctively sought Liz where she sat beside him. Her dark eyes locked with his, and Max could feel her own unspoken questions.

Max had never considered that Khivar might have any particular interest in Earth, at least not beyond his voracious appetite for hunting them down. Earth itself had never seemed to appear significantly on his radar. Then again, maybe they’d all been wrong about that.

"I’m not sure I understand you, Serena," Max finally answered, feeling the muscles in his shoulders knot tightly with tension. "I mean…I understand Khivar’s interest in me. But not earth."

"No, I know that you don’t," Serena agreed softly, dragging a kitchen chair close beside where Max and Liz sat on the small loveseat. She took the seat, leaning forward on her elbows, as she focused her keen brown eyes only on Max. From the corner of his eye, Max saw some of the other members of her unit shift uncomfortably a bit, as they repositioned themselves with the subtlest of body language. In particular, he noticed Riley slip his arm around Anna, as if bolstering her somehow. It was a subtle detail, yet it registered in his mind as important.

He knew that what Serena was about to share would change things permanently.

"Tell me everything," Max answered in a low voice. "I need to know."

Serena nodded her head briskly, her eyes never wavering from their steady, measured assessment of him.

"Please realize," Serena glanced around the living room at all of them. "We have withheld this information intentionally from all of you. Until now because…"

Serena dropped her head suddenly, and Max had the impression she was gathering her thoughts. Or her courage.

"Because?" He prompted, lowering his own head slightly, attempting to meet her averted eyes.

"Because it’s quite shocking, Max," she finished, her voice husky with emotion. "Particularly the details of Khivar’s interest in the human race. You all had enough to adjust to after going in hiding. But the time has come for you to know everything…so that you will be fully equipped to defeat him."

****

Serena’s eyes drifted shut a moment, as she centered her thoughts. Even after so many years, journeying back within her mind, dredging up the distant memories pained her immeasurably. Soft Antarian words buzzed along the periphery of her mind, warring for domination, but she refused to acknowledge them, wouldn’t allow her pain that amount of visceral reality.

What Khivar had done to her was unspeakable—not just to her, but her husband and son. And then she’d watched the assassination of her king and queen, right before her eyes, mocking the deaths of her own family, as Khivar stole the throne they’d died protecting. She shivered, yet the Antarian words gained strength and velocity, as hazy memories asserted a stronger foothold, refused denial.

And those had been his final words, everything in slow motion, happening so quickly. Serena had spotted the shooters, had moved for her holstered weapon with her right hand, while lunging in front…she watched Devon moving from the other side, as if in a dream.

But it had all happened too quickly, and Zan had been struck down before they’d even reached him. Not just Zan, but Zillia, too.

"Serena?" The voice was soft and feminine, husky like her own. Zillia.

"I-I…" Serena opened her eyes again, and saw Liz’s warm dark ones waiting expectantly. She hadn’t even been aware of it, but Liz had knelt in front of her, slipping a small hand on her knee. Beautiful and very much alive, her queen stared up at her, not like that heinous day so long ago. Serena shivered, drawing in a steadying breath, feeling a bit disoriented by her surroundings. She lowered her head, blinking quickly, as she pushed the past solidly behind her. It was the first moment she’d realized how uneven her breathing had become, how frantic her heart rate.

"It is difficult …for me to speak of these things," she explained, battling with her emotions, determined to gain control. "Please understand. For you, it was another lifetime, but not for me."

"Of course," Liz assured her with an encouraging nod of her head, rocking back on her heels. "We all understand."

"We can take this slowly, Serena," Max agreed, his voice patient and kind. With his words, Serena couldn’t help but remember what a fair and just king Zan had been—how his reign would have meant peace for their planet, if not cut so painfully short by Khivar and his assassins.

Liz slowly rose, reclaiming her seat beside Max. "First, you must understand the racial composition on Antar," Serena began, swallowing hard. "I am Antarian, and that is the heritage of every alien in this room…whether hybrid or pure-bred."

Serena paused as her eyes traveled to where Ari and Devon sat quietly beyond the main circle. They nodded their silent support, and it strengthened her. They were the only ones in the room who truly understood, because although the rest of the unit had heard the stories, Ari and Devon remembered.

"But there is another race, the one we call the skins here on earth. On Antar, they are known as Antousians. They are not like us in physical form."

"How are they different?" Max asked.

"At one time, they were very similar to Antarians, only a bit…larger," Serena answered, aware that her voice had become thick with emotion. "But about a hundred years ago, Antar was plagued by a terrible virus, and the Antousians were nearly destroyed as a race."

Serena paused, sipping her coffee before she continued.

"The Antousians were affected by the virus, but not the Antarians…they remained immune," she explained solemnly. "Suddenly, our two races became divided. The Antousians accused us of releasing the virus intentionally, as a form of biological warfare to wipe out their race."

"Wait, I’m confused," Max interrupted, his soft voice edged with tension. "Why would the Antousians have thought that?"

"Because their race was not indigenous to the planet. They’d migrated there thousands of years before, and the Antarians had welcomed them. Their numbers had increased over the millennia, and there’d been some unrest growing over the fact…the feeling that the Antarians had welcomed them on their planet, but were starting to lose control over their own home."

"Who felt that way?" Max questioned, his amber eyes narrowing intently. "Was that the general feeling among the Antarian population?"

"Not at all. It was only a small, militant band of Antarian intellectuals," Serena explained, closing her eyes as she remembered the first time she’d read one of their racist pamphlets. "Antarians never thought that way…it was a total anomaly. But then the virus struck shortly thereafter, and…"

"It was enough to convince the skins of a conspiracy against them," Max finished.

Serena nodded slowly, her heart aching at the memory. Even though the Antousians as a race were her enemies now, there were many she still considered friends. "But there’s more, Max," Serena continued, her eyes again sweeping around her. She was surprised to see how drawn the expressions around the room were, how everyone stared at her in obvious disbelief. Even Riley, Anna and Cecilia bore the same stricken expressions, and they’d heard the story before—yet it obviously left them shaken even in its retelling.

"The Antousians were shape shifters, just like our people, only they had the additional capacity to move in a formless state," Serena explained. "The virus destroyed many of their bodies, but before the onset of death, they simply vacated. You see, they didn’t die, they just drifted among us…formless."

"What do you mean formless?" Max demanded and Serena’s throat tightened. This was the point when the story became truly difficult for her to share. She sought Ari and Devon with her eyes, feeling suddenly unsteady and desperate, and fortunately she found them watching her with tremendous concern. Devon stepped quickly from his position in the back of the room, drawing near her, and Serena instantly relaxed a bit. She swallowed hard, clearing her suddenly dry throat, as Devon stood beside her, placing a strong hand on her shoulder. Max watched, his eyes flickering a bit in confusion at her hesitation.

"We’re shape shifters, Max, as you know," Serena answered quietly. "We can change form by altering our molecular structure. But the Antousians were able to exist void of form. Only, the void was their form. They could assume the composition of the atmosphere surrounding their bodies."

"That’s horrible," Liz whispered. "That means…they were like ghosts."

"Somewhat, yes," Serena agreed, blinking quickly. "But it was different. Sinister in its own way. Because while displaced they were constantly seeking sentient beings to…overtake. Yet it was too difficult for them to possess all but the weakest Antarians."

"Possess…how?" Max asked.

"They were very much alive, Max," Serena answered. "They considered their formlessness a curse, as if they’d been reduced to nomadic stature. And they blamed us…the Antarians."

"So they sought to possess you?" Liz asked. "As a way of taking form again?"

"Unsuccessfully, yes," Serena answered. "Which only fueled their hatred of our race."

"How does this relate to Earth?" Michael demanded suddenly, folding his arms across his chest in a defiant gesture.

"There was a remnant, rebel group of them who hadn’t suffered the effects of the virus, and they pirated expedition ships to other planets, seeking an appropriate life form. One they could seize control of. Inhabit…" Serena’s voice cracked, and she looked up at Devon for help. He squeezed her shoulder lightly, and cleared his throat.

"This is…a painful story for us," he began. "That’s something you must all understand. This is our home we are speaking of."

Serena felt strengthened by Devon’s support, and nodded briskly, ready to continue. "The skins made their way to Earth…and found the perfect specimens."

"Specimens for what?" Michael demanded, jumping suddenly to his feet. "What are you saying?"

"I’m saying that humans were brought back to Antar," Serena answered solemnly. "At first in very small numbers, then the captures grew in quantity as the skins verified what they’d suspected. That humans were perfectly compatible for body spirit fusion."

"What the hell is that?" Max roared.

"The formless Antousians possessed the captured humans, fusing their own essence to the host bodies. It would instantly kill the human subject, and the Antousian would take full possession. It’s where the name skins came from…they came here to earth and stole the host bodies they needed."

"Oh. My. God." Maria cried. "I think I’m going to be sick!"

"You’re telling me that Antar is populated with humans?" Max asked intensely. "Is that what you’re really saying?"

"I’m saying that approximately a hundred years ago, the skins began capturing humans, fusing their own alien essences with the bodies of the human subjects. Now Antar consists of three races: the Antarians, the Antousians--though only a remnant and threatened population remains--and the human-Antousian hybrids."

"What is Khivar then?" Max asked, his jaw set tightly, yet Serena noticed that it twitched almost imperceptibly.

"The man occupying your throne…is every bit as human as you are, Max."

****

Liz felt her stomach knot convulsively, utterly unsettled by Serena’s words. All this time, they’d never once guessed that Khivar was a human-alien hybrid, and somehow it made him seem imminently more threatening. Something about the story was more than chilling, and her mind rushed to fill in unspoken details. She could only imagine how the wars had broken out, all the blame and finger-pointing that had occurred. These two races that had once existed peaceably, had grown fractured and filled with accusation.

Yet there was a question that nagged at Liz’s mind, one above all else. She knew that Khivar had assumed Max’s throne after his death, and she found herself needing the details—driven to understand how the racial conflict had brought about a revolution.

"Serena, tell me one thing," Liz asked. "How did all of this…lead to the war?"

Liz watched as Serena, Ari and Devon all glanced quickly at one another, and the grief she saw shimmering in their eyes tore at her heart. Then, she allowed her glance to roam to the other members of the unit, and observed how they all stiffened visibly at her question.

"What?" Max asked. "What aren’t you telling us?"

Serena tilted her chin upward, her back straight as a rod. "Max, your family had brought a beautiful unity among our two races over the centuries. Your father was beloved by most Antousians. But when the virus came, they blamed him for it."

"How could they have?" Liz asked, feeling her chest tighten. She felt protective of a father-in-law she had no memory of. Of a husband that was lost to her.

"The people felt it was a political blight. Brought to them on purpose…and so they blamed your father, the king."

"And then later Zan," Max finished quietly.

"Yes, Max. Your father died suddenly, and you took the throne in the midst of a great deal of unrest," Serena explained quietly. "Despite the Antousians’ illegal expeditions, the unauthorized hybridization of their new race, you were willing to seek peace. Any other leader would have punished them for what they’d done…for the act of open defiance. But you had radical ideas of how the three races could unite. Work together."

"When you say three races…" Liz asked.

"The skins were reproducing, creating their new human-hybrid race rapidly. The human genetic pool proved vastly more fertile than the original Antarian and Antousian races," Serena explained. "Zan and Khivar were both second generation. Neither of you remembered a time pre-dating the viral plague."

"That means that Khivar is…" Max shrugged uncertainly, his voice trailing off.

"Pure hybrid. He was not one of the original Antousians," Serena answered. "His parents were humans brought from Earth, then fused with their alien possessors."

"So this race…the skins, really is a new breed?" Liz asked. "Something now truly indigenous to Antar?"

"Yes, and Khivar wants to commit genocide against every living Antarian. He only wants the skins and original Antousians,"

"They were never interested in Zan’s peace treaties," Devon offered quietly. "Zan could have forged a new order, a way for all three of our races to co-exist, but the bitterness among the skins had been growing for so long."

"And a very small band of political leaders didn’t want to lose their control, either," Serena explained. "And so they mounted a revolution against you, Max. The entire royal house was murdered in one afternoon some seventy years ago."

"Seventy years ago?" Isabel cried in disbelief. "If you remember all of this, then how old does it make you?"

Liz was surprised to see Serena’s face flush a bit at Isabel’s question. She couldn’t recall ever seeing her embarrassed or unsettled before. "Well, let’s just say a lot older than you might think," Serena laughed huskily, tucking a stray blonde hair behind her ear. "Our race has a greater longevity than human…though human-alien hybrids have similar life capacity to our own race on Antar."

"Serena, please," Liz asked softly. "I would really like to know how much you actually remember. It’s important to me…to my understanding all of this."

"I remember the virus…and before, also."

"From what you’re saying, that’s more than a hundred years," Michael insisted, stepping closer toward her. He’d been moving restlessly around the room for a while, just listening to the conversation silently, despite his unsettled movements.

Serena sighed heavily, rising to her feet. She moved away from the group, walking toward the window that faced the driveway, and stared out of it a moment. "I am one hundred and thirty-eight years old," she proclaimed quietly. "I remember everything of which I speak. I lost everyone I’d ever cared for in the space of two years. My king, my queen… my family. And I remember it all."

Serena remained with her back to them, and a shroud of silence fell over the room. No one dared speak, nor could any of them formulate an appropriate reply to Serena’s statement—especially not when she wiped silent tears away with the back of her hand. Liz doubted that she’d ever forget the image of beautiful, strong Serena crying as she spoke of the war that had torn her planet apart, and had ripped her family away from her forever.

"Khivar wants the Granolith so he can transport approximately five thousand more humans back to Antar," Serena finally continued, her voice raspy and thick. "It’s why we sent all of you here, Max. Not only to create a new Antarian-hybrid race, one that could co-exist with the skins on Antar. But to defend Earth against Khivar."

"Defend Earth…how?" Max asked, rubbing his neck nervously.

"Khivar intends to capture as many humans as necessary, Max," Serena explained. "He won’t stop until all the displaced have fused with the bodies of their human donors. He will destroy anyone who stands in his way. He’ll destroy Earth if necessary."

"Why?" Max insisted, springing to his feet. Liz watched him pace restlessly, running a shaky hand through his dark locks. "Why is he willing to destroy this planet? He has no right to simply take these people."

"His ego demands it," Serena whispered. "He is insatiable in his need to rule, for his race to dominate. He will not rest until he has populated Antar with his own hybridized race. He murders Antarians daily, Max. You must know that…our race is severely diminished now. He is slowly committing genocide against our people."

Liz shivered as she watched Max’s chest rise with heavy pants. She yearned to connect with him, to enter his mind and know what he was feeling about all this. She longed for the bond like she would a phantom limb that no longer existed—she could still feel it, as if it were a vital, living thing, despite how Nicholas had crushed it.

"If they have the capacity to possess humans as you say they did after the viral plague, then why haven’t Nicholas and his men done that?" Max insisted. "Why do they occupy husks, not humans?"

"Because the atmosphere here is hostile to their race. They cannot take possession of humans on this planet, only on Antar."

"And what happens to these displaced Antousians if we defeat Khivar?" Max asked. "They will remain formless? Just drifting and alive?"

"No," Serena answered softly. "They will die once their life spans are fulfilled. That time is nearing anyway, which is what makes Khivar’s plan even more self-serving. He is only concerned about the supremacy of his hybrid race, not with helping his own people who need him. He doesn’t care if the displaced live or die."

Serena turned to face Max from where she stood at the window. "And that’s the tragedy. When you were our king, Max, you truly cared about them. You were fighting for a scientific solution that would have helped."

"So if Khivar is coming to Earth now, as we suspect, it is to implement this next phase of his plan?" Max asked.

Serena nodded briskly. "Yes."

"But he doesn’t have the Granolith," Liz offered.

Max rubbed his eyes wearily, answering for Serena. "I suspect he intends to get it by whatever means necessary."

"Maybe," Serena agreed, reclaiming her chair near Max. "But I’ve had another thought since speaking with Tess."

"What?" Max asked.

"Khivar may no longer need the Granolith to accomplish his directives," Serena answered. "His scientists may have finally duplicated the technology, building their own version. Which would mean…that Khivar might actually be on his way here, just as Marco told Tess."