"Like what?" She'd demanded, feeling as though something secret and special was finally hers. "Show me."

She'd kept him up all night, practicing levitation, unlocking doors, reading auras, heating coffee with her hand like Isabel could do, and even a bit of dreamwalking, once Amy had given up and turned to a few sleeping pills to help her make it through the night. These powers that had once so frightened her needed no skill to be used, no practice to learn correctly. He told her how to do it, and she did it. She got the feeling that if she really wanted something, no matter what it was, she could make it happen just by thinking about it. Marcos had told her that wasn't so, and to be careful always of discovery.

"The Fold long ago mastered the art of pattern manipulation, which is what you did with the fruit. Because every member of the Fold on Amsar is part of the All, manipulating thought is impossible. But you, Maria, you're half-human. You can make people see things, believe things, say things. You can put them to sleep, make them jump over fences, as long as it's not too complicated. You can only suggest to the suggestible; you cannot force the resistant."

She was still reeling from it all. Only half-human, capable of low-intensity mind-control. And, almost the most unbelievable, a daughter with a father. She had watched his face intently when he explained things to her, seeing the resemblance between them, seeing how gentle and sad he was with her. He didn't have a limo or any money to speak of, but knowing what he sacrificed to keep her out of the Hunter's paths...

And that was another thing. She swung into a space in the high school's parking lot and pulled her carrier bag over one shoulder. Hunters. Did Max, Michael and Isabel know about them? Did they have any idea that the home that they wanted so desperately to return to had sent them here, to Earth, on purpose as part of what could only be termed a social experiment? Did they know about the Terran Project and that they had no intention of retrieving their three lost prodigals until they were satisfied with what they had learned here? She got out of the Volkswagen and shut the door behind her. Did they know that their home planet's name was Amsar?

First period. English. It was hell. She was torn between using mind control to make the teacher assign them 'The Monster at the End of This Book' and making her notebook float up and smack Michael Guerin on the back of the head. She had halfway expected that he and the others would sense her Alien self, as she now sensed theirs. She was distracted. Everything seemed to be in a state of hyperreality. Colors were brighter, sounds were louder. She caught bits and pieces of random thoughts here and there, but blocked them out. She felt queasy about reading people's minds. In fact, she was beginning to feel queasy in general. Sensory overload had been something that her father had warned her about, and she mentally cleared her thoughts as he had taught her, focussing on a single thing.

The stars. She saw them on the inside of her eyelids, shining vivid on a sea of black. The bell rang. She opened her eyes. The fingers of her left hand were glowing the eerie violet-silver that Marcos said marked her as a hybrid. Quickly, she hid her hand under the desk as the other students filed out. When she pulled the hand back, it was as any normal hand should be. Michael walked by her, and she opened her mouth to tell him her secret, to hint at it. He ignored her, walked right past and out the door.

It stung, but not as acidly as it would have the day before. He didn't want to get close to her because he thought she would complicate his search for the truth. She almost laughed out loud.

Second and third period passed without incident. Her one transgression had been to 'persuede' Mr. Kalvin to curve the grades on the American History midterms. And really, that was only fair. The man was an absolute tyrant when it came to testing.

Lunchtime. She fairly skipped to the cafeteria. Marcos had told her that it would be all right to tell the three Fold children, as she was now calling them in her head, to replace their previous title of 'The ET Squad', and after she explained the situation between Liz and Max, he had agreed that she would probably not be in any extra danger if she knew about Maria. Tray in hand, she went outside to look for the others.

They were sitting at a fairly isolated table, heads bent together, talking quietly. Alex was with them. Well, she told herself, he already knows about the others, so he can know about me, too. She began walking in the direction of her friends, all bound together by knowledge no one else would have dreamed. And the thought of how happy Michael would be when he found out that there was another alien...in a way, two more aliens...well, that made her walk that much faster.

"Hey guys," she sat down between Liz and Alex. "What's up?"

"Did you see the meteor shower last night?" Liz popped a cheese cracker into her mouth. "Max and I went out into the desert to watch it. It was amazing."

"No," Maria slapped her forehead. "Damn, I forgot all about it."

"There was no way in hell I was going out there and getting all dirty in the desert for some stupid falling rocks." Isabel picked at her Caeser salad and smiled. "But my date with Colin Gray went very well, thank you."

Alex's smile faltered a bit at this piece of information, which Maria noticed, but he plastered his happy face back on a moment later. "I took photographs of it. The shower, I mean. 'The Beacon' wants to buy a few of them from me."

"For how much?" Michael upended a bottle of Tabasco Sauce over his mashed potatoes.

"Um, fifty a shot, I think the guy said. But they only want two or three pictures."

"Still, beats the hell out of nothing at all." Michael took a hearty bite of his potatoes and nearly gagged. "What is this?" He choaked, "mashed soap?"

"You know how seriously this school takes hygiene," Maria teased, then squealed as Michael sent a glob of the stuff sailing past her ear. "You jackass!"

He stuck out his tongue at her. God, she loved it when he loosened up.

"Did you guys read about the new exhibit opening up at the UFO Museum?" Max opened that day's newspaper to the Arts & Culture section and pointed to an article. "It going to be about different ideas on what aliens might have looked like, over the years."

"I can't believe that trash is in the Arts & Culture section," Isabel hissed. "That museum is a interstellar load of shit."

"Guys." Maria's voice was hestitant, lower than normal. Five faces turned towards her, expectant. "I have some, um, news."

"What is it?" Liz tucked a lock of shiny brown hair behind one ear. "Did you ace the History final? I heard Kalvin's curved it this semester. Can you believe that?"

"Well...um, actually I made a B. But that's not my news. Last night, someone came to my house last night around one. It...was my father." She held her breath, uncertain of their reactions to this.

"Your father?" Liz whispered. "Oh my God."

"Jesus," Michael muttered. Everyone else was silent.

"Well," Liz prodded gently. "Did he say why he left? Did he say where he's been all this time?"

This was going to be more difficult than she'd anticipated. What would Michael do when he found out that the home he wanted so badly didn't want him, that he was data, a statistic? That they wanted to kill her, that they thought she was a monster? What would any of them do then? Her heart was thumping so hard she was suprised that everyone outside couldn't hear it. "Yes, he...did. He said...he said that..." The world exploded. Everything was awash in violet, and silver, and noise, in taste, in touch, in Michael, in Father, in Liz, in a planet galaxies away that could claim half of what she was. Her brain, unaccustomed to it's newfound breadth and range, sent out a distress call, a scream, a wail that hammered into Michael, Max and Isabel like a pickaxe digging for gold in a cave floor. Maria slid silently off the bench and onto the concrete patio, the part of her that was aware of what was happeneing broadcasting a command, a dictate to the other students: you do not see this, this is not happening, everything is fine, you do not see this. And they saw nothing.

But Max, Michael, Isabel, Liz and Alex saw it. They saw the small and lively blonde surrounded by silver-violet flames, and for the three Fold children, it carried with it a banner in bold: Alien. Alien. Alien. Maria's eyes rolled back in her head, her body began convulsing, and the three were slammed with images with an almost physical impact...Hunters, Marcos DeLuca, Maria lifting that first pear, Amy crying into her daughter's arms, and the words of Maria's father echoing through it all: "Alien, a hybrid, you are my daughter, I was the pilot, they are never coming back for us."

Max went down on his knees and gathered Maria in his arms, choosing not to wonder why no one seemed to notice what was going on. Isabel stood as though locked in place, eyes wide and unbelieving. Michael flanked Max on Maria's other side and smoothed the girl's hair back from her damp forehead. "What does this mean, Max?" He whispered.

"What does what mean?" Liz shook her head. She and Alex stood beside Isabel, utterly lost. Liz turned and called out for an ambulance, for someone to call a goddamn ambulance, but no one even turned to look at her.

"Don't bother," Michael ripped off the hem of his T shirt and mopped Maria's brow. "They don't even know you're there."

"What's happened to everyone?" Liz knelt behind Max and grasped his arm. "What the hell is going on, Max?"

"Don't you know?" Isabel asked quietly, her voice faltering. "I don't know how we missed it, or what the things I'm seeing from her mean, but she is one of us."