“I think it’s ready,” she said.

Michael nodded. He didn’t speak, and Tess realized for the first time that he was afraid. She wasn’t used to seeing Michael scared. He was often the one who rushed blindly into danger, unaware of any consequences. But the last hour of waiting while they traveled to the granilith and then prepared it for his journey had given him plenty of silence to ponder his act. He remembered Liz, Maria, Tess: the looks they’d all given him when he told them his plan. Maybe he was as crazy as they thought he was. Then again,

could he stop and walk away now? He had to know.

Tess stood next to him and took his hand. “Be careful,” she said softly. “You remember everything I told you?”

“Yeah,” he said dismissively. He dropped her hand and stepped forward with his last shred of confidence.

It happened in what seemed like an instant. He was there…and then he was gone. Tess jumped at the quickness of it, startled to find herself alone.

She looked around her, checking to make sure there was no sign of him. What to do now? Wait for him to return? Go home and tell Max the truth? She bit her lip, then sat down. She might as well give him an hour. If he didn’t come back, she’d go to Max. Tess closed her eyes and wondered if she’d ever see Michael again.

*************

At first, Michael didn’t think it worked. If he hadn’t seen that Tess was

gone, he may have suspected nothing happened at all. But she wasn’t there. When he realized that he had really done it, he was filled with anticipation. He wanted to run home and see what had changed, see the future for himself. All the same, he couldn’t bring himself to leave yet.

As he stood, glued to the floor, a thought ran through his mind. What would Max do in this situation? He tried to dismiss it as stupid, but he knew in his heart, though he’d never admit it to anyone, that he could use some of

Max’s restraint. He needed a plan.

After a while to think, he decided it would be best to go to Max and Isabel’s house. He could go through Max’s window just as he’d done not too long ago. That way he could check to make sure he didn’t run into his future self. Tess had warned him about that.

Roswell didn’t look much different. A newspaper stand on the street told him it was ten years in the future. November 15, 2010. People walked the

streets in tight jeans. Just what fashion needs, a flashback to the 80’s,

he thought cynically. The Crashdown was gone, so was the UFO center. He found his apartment window. Down that street was Maria’s house. If she still lived there. He repressed any desires to procrastinate and pressed forward to Max’s house.

The lights were off. It looked deserted. No cars in the driveway. He walked to the side, to Max’s window. There didn’t seem to be anyone inside, but maybe he could find some clue as to where he’d gone. Or even just wait for him to come back. When he’d crawled in, he saw that Max still lived here. The bed was unmade, but the desk was meticulously organized. As he

rummaged through the drawers, Michael thought he heard something. A footstep somewhere in the house. A twisting in his stomach told him that perhaps this hadn’t been the best idea. Maybe he wasn’t the only one looking for Max. Maybe he’d find enemies instead of friends.

Cautiously, he opened the door and stepped into the hall. He inched over to Isabel’s room, put his ear to the door. Another sound. There was definitely someone inside that room. Just in case it was Mrs. Evans or some harmless guest, he knocked.

“Come in, Max,” a voice called. Isabel’s voice.

Michael breathed a sigh of relief, it wasn’t an enemy after all. He opened the door and walked in.

Isabel was standing in a corner, looking at something she held in her hands. Her back was to him. Michael gathered his courage, he would startle her, but he wanted to keep the situation under control.

“Isabel,” he said.

She turned to look at him and immediately paled. She dropped whatever was

in her hands and shrieked. She backed into the wall, cringing.

“Isabel, it’s okay,” he said. “It’s me.”

“How…how can this be? You—“

“It’s me, it’s Michael,” he said reassuringly, taking a step to her.

“It can’t be Michael.”

“It’s me. From the past. From 10 years ago. I used the granilith.”

She relaxed, slumping to the floor, putting her face in her hands. She began to sob.

Michael stood awkwardly, not sure of what to do. Finally, he went to her,

sat beside her, put an arm around her. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “I won’t hurt you.”

“It’s not okay,” she said, wiping tears from her cheeks. “Everything’s falling apart.”

“It’ll be alright,” he said. He couldn’t think of anything else to say. “Just tell me, tell me what’s wrong.”

Isabel looked up at him and he could see her face clearly for the first time. There were deep circles under her eyes. Her cheeks looked hollow and gaunt. Her eyes were filled with something, maybe hurt or despair, he couldn’t tell. He’d never seen her so upset. She looked 15, maybe 20 years older instead of only ten.

Suddenly, she took his face in her hands, stared at him, looked over every

inch of him. “You look just the same,” she said. “You never change.”

Michael started to wonder if she hadn’t lost it. She looked desperate, almost crazy. “Tell me what’s happened, Isabel.”

“Oh, Michael,” she cried. She pulled him to her, hugging him tightly. “I’m so sorry, Michael.”

He forced himself out of her grip. “Isabel, tell me what’s wrong!”

She looked like a chastened child, she started to cry again. “It’s my fault. They’ve taken you and Tess already.”

“Who’s taken us? What does that mean?”

“The Skins,” Isabel said soberly. “They killed you. Yesterday.”

Michael felt a chill go down his spine. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure,” she said, her voice rising. “I saw it. It’s my fault.”

“How did it happen?”

She didn’t answer this right away, instead she studied him again. “You said you’re from the past, ten years ago?”

He nodded.

“And you’re going back?”

“As soon as I find out what I need to know.”

“Michael, you need to do something for me. Go back, find me and tell me to tell Max.”

“Tell Max what?”

“About Vilandra. I never told him. I kept it bottled up. I thought he’d

hate me for it. Instead, it killed me. It was all I could think about. And finally, I gave into it.”

“Isabel, slow down,” Michael said. “What do you mean?”

“Vilandra. It’s my real name. In that other life we had, I turned against Max. I betrayed you, too. I worked with the Skins. I did it here, too. I promised myself I’d never do it, but it was just too much to take alone.”

“So you want me to go back to the past and find you, Isabel from the past,

and tell her to tell Max about Vilandra?”

“Yes. Please, Michael. It’s your only hope, our only hope.” She began to cry again.

*************

Michael left her sleeping as peacefully as possible. His mind was spinning. She’d talked to him for hours, told him everything that had happened to them in the past year, about how she’d banded with the Skins again, how he died. At least some things had changed. Tess had been there with them all along. Up until a week ago. Isabel had arranged it, they’d

killed her in her sleep, while she was defenseless. Future Michael was next. Max would be killed any day now. Isabel wasn’t really sure when. She hadn’t seen him since his, future Michael’s, death. He’d never known that it was Isabel who was responsible for it all. He’d never even suspected.

Michael knew that it was pointless to warn Max, since he was planning on changing the future anyway, and if that happened then this Max would never

exist. But he couldn’t help but defend his best friend.

The sun had set and the town was almost desolate. Michael wasn’t sure where to look for Max, but an instinct told him to find Liz. He found a pay phone, and there was Liz’s name complete with an address. It was just a few blocks away, and he found it quickly. It was a dingy looking apartment complex. He crossed the street, walked towards it.

“Michael?”

It came from somewhere off to his left, a voice calling his name. It was soft, and he could barely hear it. Michael turned, walked to the voice.

“Who’s there? Liz?”

“Michael, is that you?”

He turned down an alley, past a dumpster. And all of a sudden, there he was. Max was on the ground in front of him. There was blood on his face,

on his shirt, on the ground. Liz was a few feet away, lying lifeless in the gutter.

“Max? Max, are you alright?”

Michael bent down and cradled Max’s head in his arms.

“I thought you were dead,” Max said.

“I—“

“They got me, Michael. Tell Isabel I love her, okay?”

“What’re you talking about, Max?” Michael stuttered. “You’re fine. Come

on, get up and I’ll take you home.”

“I’m not fine, Michael. I’ll be dead in just a few minutes. I already saw you go. And Nasedo, too. All those years ago.”

Michael felt as though the world was spinning around him. He tried in vain to slow his breathing. “Listen, Max, you have to take control here. You’re the King, remember? It’s your responsibility to make sure we’re all okay.

We can’t make it without you.”

“No,” Max seemed to use all the strength he had to shake his head. “You never needed me, Michael. You always had that power inside of you.”

“Don’t you get sappy on me, Maxwell.” Michael struggled to find words, struggled even harder to keep from crying. Before he could say anything else, Max’s eyes had closed. His breath waned. He wouldn’t wake up, Michael knew that.