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in…well…Earth languages.”

Mr. Sicamore puzzled over it and then turned to the radio operator. “I want you to record every message you hear. It might be legitimate, and we really need a break right about now. And if it is in fact from Earth, then our nation also needs to know which nation got to Mars first.”

The operator and their supervisor nodded. Agent Sicamore left the room wringing his hands and thinking that maybe, just maybe they cracked into something useful. With this hope he walked to his office.

Standing outside his office, Agent Keane stood waiting with folded arms. “What took you?”

Smiling, Agent Sicamore walked over and unlocked the door. “Nice to see you are so prompt. Do you have any good news for me?”

Agent Keane shook his head. “Just this. I got copies of the papers they wrote in their English class like you asked, and I brought a copy of the video footage a local recorded from that fair on Saturday. I don’t have any other word yet.”

Agent Sicamore nodded and glanced at his undercover agent. “You’re getting on well, right? Cover not blown?”

Keane nodded mildly. “For the most part. Jeff and Zormna have been getting more secretive lately, and apparently that kid Darren Asher—”

“The town alien nut?” Sicamore replied with a smirk.

“Yeah, he’s been skipping lunch every Monday, and that is making Zormna worried.” Agent Keane sat down, crossed his legs and folded his hands together across his chest.

Agent Sicamore nodded. Sitting down behind his desk, he picked up a pencil and paper. “And if she’s worried then that means something is up. She’s not the type to openly worry, and I still don’t think she likes him enough to—”

“Oh, no, they get along just fine. She actually defends him at school. And they are lab partners in her Chemistry class.” Agent Keane uncrossed his legs and leaned toward the desk. “I was thinking more like maybe Darren suspects something.”

Mr. Sicamore’s eyebrows rose. “That kid? He’s not that smart.”

Shaking his head, Agent Keane replied, “I think you are underestimating him. I think he is more observant than we give him credit. He was the only one to believe that Zormna’s great aunt was a…an alien.”

Agent Sicamore closed his eyes and smirked. “I don’t think we have to worry about Darren. He’s fanatical. And even if he suspects us, I don’t think anyone would believe him. Even his friends.”

“Zormna would,” Agent Keane replied. “I think she gives him more credit in private than in public. And I do think she would believe him if he suspected foul play.”

Nodding, Sicamore said, “All right. What do you propose?”

Agent Keane sat back and glanced at the wall. “Nothing at this moment. I just want you to be aware. That kid’s sharp. Goofy, but sharp. And though I don’t know how much he knows about her, I think he’s become a great deal more protective of Zormna than when you encountered him before. I know he is keeping secrets. Both Palmer and Powell agree with me that he won’t talk to any more agents.”

Agent Sicamore nodded.

“You do know why, don’t you? Why he’s so protective…” Agent Keane asked. “You spoke to your contact, didn’t you?”

Rubbing his hand against his forehead, Sicamore nodded with a tired sigh.

“Why?” Seeing his reluctance, Keane added, “How am I supposed to do my job if I’m only told a sketch of the truth?”

Agent Sicamore sighed and leaned back. “I think that perhaps some information might affect your performance out there. What I might say might change the way you treat them. If they see a change in behavior in you—”

Agent Keane laughed. He stood up. “At this moment all I am thinking is that two aliens, possibly linked with many more—including armies—are hiding something on Earth and possibly might do harm to my fellow citizens.” Shaking his head, he said, “I’ve watched those two. Both are built like time bombs. Both are extremely athletic and both are genius clever. If she weren’t so attractive and he not so personable, I’d arm myself and run away screaming.”

Agent Sicamore nodded.

“All right.” Pausing, Agent Sicamore considered his words as he said, “As far as we know with Darren, he just wants to prevent another death. But I do know what she is now, and why Jeff might be protecting her.”

“So, why?”

Reluctant at saying so, Sicamore leaned back in his chair while attempting to sound casual, “She is royalty.”

Agent Keane stepped back. “What?”

Repeating, Sicamore said, “She is royalty. I learned from my contact that a Martian with that circular mark on the right shoulder is from one of seven royal lines. That old woman and this girl are both from the youngest royal line. And apparently Jeff is protecting her from her enemies.”

“Us?” Agent Keane guessed.

Sicamore shook his head. “No. I mean, sure—he is protecting her from us too, but within her own people she has enemies. My source tells me that apparently her people believe in a so-called prophecy, ten thousand years old, that says that someone from the royal line will return and overthrow their government, destroying whatever progress they have made. Because of this threat, for generations the government has been searching for and weeding out all these Tarrns—the descendants of royalty. Basically exterminating them. And further, my sources say that the ten thousand years are pretty much up, so the rulers of Martians are desperate to get rid of the last Tarrns.”

Agene Keane sat back down in his seat. He nodded slowly as he concluded for Agent Sicamore, “Which is why Zormna’s parents were murdered when she was young.” He continued to nod to himself, understanding what was going on now.

“Apparently these people are zealous about this prophecy. And part of me suspects that our boy Jafarr and Zormna are also. But what I want to know is why is that boy protecting Zormna?” Agent Sicamore shook his head gravely. “They behaved like enemies when they first met. It was violent dislike, if not fear. He avoided her when she first arrived. And I am positive he knows what she is. In fact, he seems to defer to her now, like someone would a princess. So the question is, when did he decide to protect her? And why? Especially if he believes her family is destined by some prophecy to destroy everything.”

Nodding, Agent Keane’s brow furrowed more. “That is strange. If what she is a threat to their own people, then it wouldn’t be logical for him to protect her, unless….” Looking up at Sicamore, Agent Keane murmured, “Our file says she claimed under truth serum that she was forced to come here for her protection by her commanding officer of her military. What if there are people who want the government overthrown? What if Jeff and her military group are those kind of people?”

“A military coup?” Agent Sicamore thought carefully, squinting while massaging his forehead. “That would be logical. Except, why send her to Earth all alone to accomplish that? Something is just not right. Something is missing.”

Standing up, Agent Keane held a more resolute expression.  “Well, Mr. Sicamore, I think now I know where to go with this. I need to find out if they are superstitious, or more particularly if they believe in divination. I think I can also dig out the core of Jeff’s animosity towards Zormna and why he is setting it aside to protect her—though that may take a bit longer.”

He turned to leave, nodding at Mr. Sicamore.

“Be careful,” Sicamore called back. “I have a feeling that we’re treading into extremely dangerous territory. You really need to be prepared for the worst.”

Agent Keane nodded again and gave him a supportive grin. “Don’t worry about that. That part I have covered.”

He left, closing the door behind him.

Agent Sicamore let out a tired sigh. This entire project was tearing him up inside. How much should he tell the other agents? And how much should he trust his source? He worried more and more that he was only leading them into a greater catastrophe than what had happened two years before.

This time, he hoped there would be no casualties.

 

Chapter Ten: Fate, Bad Luck, and Ketchup

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“The greatest of faults, I should say, is to be conscious of none.”—Carlyle—

 

 

“O woe! O woeful, woeful, woeful day! Most lamentable day, most woeful day, that ever, ever, I did yet behold! O day! O day! O day!”

Zormna rolled her eyes at such ridiculous lines and was glad Juliet was dead so she wouldn’t have to respond to such drivel.

“O hateful day! Never was seen so black a day as this: O woeful day, O woeful day!” The girl who read the nurse’s lines also felt she had the silliest lines to read. She was getting sick of saying how woeful and wretched the day was.

“Beguil’d, divorced, wronged, spited, slain! Most detestable death, by thee beguil’d, by cruel cruel thee quite overthrown! O love! O life! Not life, but love in death!” Adam read with a smirk, somewhat dramatically.

Mr. Humphries seemed pleased with the class’s performance because he listened with a mild grin upon his face. They read scene five through, and much to Zormna’s and Jeff’s relief, they didn’t continue onto Act Five. Instead, their teacher stood up, circled around his desk to the front and sat on the corner. All the students looked up. They knew that this was his assign-a-paper pose so they all braced themselves for their new assignment.

“Ok. We have finished up to Act Five. What do you think so far?” he asked.

The class stared silently back at him. A few looked around at their classmates and hesitated to say anything. One girl raised her hand. It was Anne Mary Brown.

“Yes?” her teacher said.

She stood up and properly spoke. “I was just thinking how tragic it was that Romeo was banished. I mean, why didn’t he just run off with Juliet in the first place?”

Their teacher’s mouth curled into amusement as he glanced at the others. “Good question. What do you think?” asking the rest of the class.

Anne Mary sat down.

Joy raised her hand then stood up. “They couldn’t have eloped. Juliet was only fourteen. She had to get permission just to go to Friar Lawrence. She probably never left her house except with her family because of all the fighting between the Montagues and the Capulets.”

“Good point as well. Any other responses?” he asked.

Joy sat down.

No one else raised his hand. Mr. Humphries nodded.

“Alright then. Your writing assignment today will be on death. Have you ever lost anyone dear to you, or have you known someone who has? Tell me about the experience and compare it to what you just read. What do you think? Were they realistic? Overdone, underdone?” He looked around. “You may begin.”

Jeff looked down at his blank paper. His alibi did not allow for any familiarity with death in the family. Technically, both of his parents were alive and well in Chicago, though the FBI suspected differently. He then glanced at Zormna who was most likely writing her usual honest paper about how death was something she was all too familiar with, but how she managed not to mourn like those in the play. Of course she would never have been allowed to. Soldiers couldn’t.

He looked

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