The Rebel

ONE

Max Evans spread a thin layer of spicy brown mustard over his AstroNut bar, careful not to miss a spot. This would be the first time the beings of his home planet tasted the candy, and he wanted the experience to be perfect. He raised the AstroNut bar to his nose and took a long, deep sniff. The scent of the mustard made the inside of his nose tingle, and the hint of chocolate and coconut started the saliva pumping in his mouth.

He smiled as he felt the impatience of the beings who made up the collective consciousness grow. He waited another moment until they were practically begging for it, then he took the first bite. The flavors exploded in his mouth-the salt of the somewhat stale peanuts, the overwhelming exotic sweetness of the coconut, the slight bitterness of the dark chocolate.

Max had probably eaten more than a thousand AstroNuts in his life, but now, with the reactions of the beings of the consciousness ripping through him, it was like he was tasting the candy for the first time. And he was aware of so much more than simply flavor. Like the way the chocolate felt against his tongue, smooth and cool. And the way the nuts crunched under his teeth. And the way the mustard traced a line of heat down his throat.

"Can I have a bite?" Maria DeLuca asked.

It took Max a second to register the question because he was so absorbed in the response of the consciousness, he'd pretty much forgotten he was sitting in the school cafeteria with Maria, Liz Ortecho, Michael Guerin, and Max's sister, Isabel. Every day the connection between him and the beings grew stronger, so much so that he sometimes spaced on where he was and who he was with.

"Come on, Max. I'll love you forever," Maria begged. She twined one of her bouncy blond curls around her finger.

Max grinned at her. You just had to grin at Maria when she went into full-out cute mode.

"Hey, back off, chiquita. That's my man you're talking to," Liz mock threatened, her dark brown eyes narrowing.

"Well, tell your man to share his candy bar with your best friend," Maria shot back.

"Take it," Max said, reaching across the cafeteria table and holding the AstroNut bar in front of Maria's mouth so that she could take a bite. "I don't want to cause a catfight," he added with a smirk.

Michael slapped his hands over Maria's lips an instant before the candy brushed against them. "I'm not letting you do this," he told her. "Clearly you're suffering from some kind of temporary insanity. How long has it been since you allowed a preservative to enter the 'temple that is your body,' as you insist on calling it?"

"Besides, it will give you zits," Isabel added.

"But Max doesn't have any," Maria protested, the words coming out muffled by Michael's fingers.

"Yeah, that's because Max spends half an hour in front of the mirror every morning using his power to clear up his face," Isabel answered. She flipped her long blond hair over her shoulder.

"Hey, some things are supposed to remain private," Max told his sister.

Maria wriggled out of Michael's grasp, grabbed the candy bar from Max, and took a huge bite.

"So, what'd you think?" Max asked her once she'd chewed and swallowed.

She wrinkled her nose. "I can't believe we were eating the same thing," she answered. She lowered her voice. "I mean, I know aliens have different taste buds or whatever, but I saw your face. You looked like you were about to have an or-" She stopped midsentence, and her cheeks got all pink.

"A what?" Michael pressed, his gray eyes flashing with amusement. "Come on, Maria, a what?"

"A… a… an original experience," she blurted out, her cheeks going from pink to near purple.

"Now that I'm connected to the consciousness, it's like everything is new to me," Max explained. "When I tasted the AstroNut, it wasn't just me, it was all these beings who'd never had anything like it."

"Can't you just block them out?" Isabel asked.

"I used to decide when I wanted to make the connection," Max explained. "Now it's pretty much permanent, but I can sort of turn the volume up or down."

"Permanent," Isabel repeated. She stacked her empty sweetener packets, making sure all the edges were perfectly in line, then she reached across the table, snagged Liz's empty sugar packet, and stuck it on the top of the pile.

She's freaked by the idea, Max realized. Isabel always went into her clean-and-organize routine when she was upset.

"It's actually kind of cool," he told her. "It's like everything you do, you're doing it for the first time. Their reactions feel almost like your reactions, and everything becomes much more… intense."

"But you can't turn them off. You can only turn them down. Is that the deal?" Michael asked. He didn't sound happy.

"Pretty much," Max answered.

Michael shoved his hands through his spiky black hair. "I read about this guy in Japan who agreed to stay in his apartment for one year and have his whole life broadcast on TV. He only got to have stuff he won in contests, so at first he didn't have food, or clothes, or even toilet paper. The guy was wiping his butt with his hand, and everyone was watching him on the tube." Michael paused for breath and jabbed his finger at Max. "You're that guy, Max."

"Hey, I always use toilet paper," Max joked.

Michael didn't even crack a smile. "Pretty soon I'm going to be that guy, too."

"Even I'm going to be that guy," Isabel said.

It was true, or at least it was true that Michael and Isabel would have to make their own connections to the consciousness when they went through their akinos. If they didn't, they'd die.

"And anyway, you're the one who's going to have most of the original experiences," Michael said. "If I eat an AstroNut after my akino, the consciousness will have already tasted it through you, so-"

"Forget the chocolate bar," Isabel interrupted. "Max, if you're going to insist on being in communication with the beings, at least talk about something important," she snapped. "Have you even bothered to ask them about Alex today?"

A wave of guilt crashed over Max. Alex Manes was one of his best friends. It hadn't even been two weeks since Alex had gotten sucked through the wormhole and ended up on Max's home planet.

"I'll do it right now," Max answered. He took a couple of slow breaths and allowed his connection to the beings to deepen until he felt his aura begin to dissolve into the ocean of auras that formed the consciousness.

He formed a mental picture of Alex-dark red hair, green eyes-trying to mix in a sense of Alex's wacked sense of humor and his take-no-prisoners attitude when it came to protecting the people he cared about. Then he threw the image out into the consciousness and surfed through the auras, picking up their reactions.

What he got back reassured him. Alex was alive, unharmed. The beings were still getting used to his presence, but they-

Suddenly Max hit a pocket of auras that felt like molten steel. He'd been swept into this pocket before-or another one just like it. The beings here feared Alex, and their fear produced a hatred so strong that it seared Max's skin. These beings couldn't tolerate Alex on their planet. They wanted to kill him.

The living fire shot into Max's nose and throat and ears. When the three streams met-an explosion detonated inside him. He could almost feel his organs roasting.

He couldn't survive this. His body was going to combust. His-

A hand shook Max's shoulder hard, and he shoved himself away from the consciousness-as far away as the connection allowed. His eyes refocused on the cafeteria, and he saw Liz staring at him, her lips tight with concern.

"Are you all right?" she demanded, loosening her grip. "You looked like you were having a nightmare or something."

Max shoved his blond hair off his forehead. He stared down at the skin of his hands and arms. Completely undamaged. Not even a tinge of redness. "I'm okay."

"And Alex?" Michael asked.

"He's okay, too," Max reassured them. There was nothing the others could do to stop the beings if they moved against Alex. Max promised himself to keep his connection to the consciousness as tight as possible. That way he'd feel if something started to go down, and he could try to intervene… somehow. "Most of the beings have accepted Alex's presence."

"But is our home planet a democracy?" Isabel muttered.

"We can't risk it. We've got to work up another plan to get Alex back," Liz said.

"A plan? Gee, what a great idea," Michael shot back sarcastically. "Let's recap for the viewers who tuned in late. The only power source strong enough to give us a shot at getting Alex back is the Stone of Midnight. Elsevan DuPris, alien psychopath and the killer of my true parents and Isabel and Max's and Adam's, has the Stone."

Isabel took the pepper shaker off her stack of empty packets. She reshuffled them-sweetener packet, sweetener packet, sugar packet, sweetener packet-then put the shaker back in place.

Michael kept talking. Max wished he would shut up, but he knew Michael well enough to be sure that wasn't going to happen.

"Oh yeah, and we have no idea where DuPris is," Michael ranted, his eyes locked on Liz, who was meeting his gaze straight on, "and since he can take on the appearance of anyone he wants, he could be sitting at the next table, getting ready to assassinate us all, and we wouldn't have a clue. He could also be in Africa or on some other planet."

"He could even be in Canada," Maria joked. She glanced from Max to Liz to Isabel to Michael, clearly hoping one of them would laugh. Max tried and gave something that sounded more like a cough.

"And oh yeah," Michael rushed on. "DuPris also has the ship, so we can't even attempt to try and figure out how to use it to go after Alex." Neither he nor Liz blinked, both seeming determined to win their battle of the stares. "All caught up now?"

"Yeah, Michael. Thanks," Liz answered. "I don't know what we'd do if I didn't have you around to explain things. You're so much smarter than everyone else."

"Don't fight, you guys," Maria begged. She wrapped her fingers around Michael's arm, then reached across the table and grabbed Liz's hand. "If you do, I'll have to come up with more lame jokes. Even worse than the Canada attempt."

Max was glad Maria had jumped in. Sometimes he got sick of always being the peacemaker of the group.

"Sorry, Liz. I just-" Michael began.

"I know. Bygones," Liz answered, her brown eyes turning warm again.

"Can't you explain to the beings that it's not Alex's fault that he's there?" Isabel asked.

"I have. A bunch of times," Max told her.

"Well, do it again!" Isabel exclaimed. She swept her little pile of wrappers and the pepper shaker onto the floor.

She was obviously way more upset than Max had realized. "Okay, okay," he said.

He closed his eyes and felt his consciousness, his individuality, get loose and slippery. He let himself slide back into the ocean of beings.

There was something different. The ocean felt cooler, and each time Max's aura touched one of the others, a tingling sensation skittered through him.

It's power, he realized. Power building. A lot of power.

He sent out a wave of confusion and waited for one of the beings to send back an explanation. It didn't come.

The tingling grew to an electric sizzle. The auras around him grew brighter, glowing with an oily phosphorescence. Max's own aura turned from emerald to luminous acid green.

What is-

Before Max could complete the thought, a blast of supercharged power blew him out of the ocean. He hurtled away from the other auras, his being vibrating with the shock until it felt like he would fly apart, heading off in every direction.

He felt his molecules shudder and begin to separate. His vision dimmed. His heart fluttered in his chest. What… what… what-

His mind wasn't functioning properly. The molecules of his brain were too far apart. He couldn't… couldn't…

"Max, come back! Come back!" Liz cried.

He felt something cool and wet on his face. He jerked open his eyes and saw Maria leaning across the table, wiping a wet napkin over his forehead.

"Now what happened?" Michael demanded. He was gripping the edge of the cafeteria table with both hands, his fingers almost white with the strain.

Max took the napkin from Maria and scrubbed his face hard. "I don't know," he finally admitted. "There was a massive explosion of power in the consciousness, and I got basically thrown free."

"Is Alex all right?" Isabel exclaimed. "Did whatever, did it hurt him? Did it kill-"

"I don't know," Max repeated. He felt like some of his neurons were tangled or something. He could feel faint tendrils of shock and grief and pain from the beings, but nothing more.

"So, um, who wants to go with me to my little brother's basketball game after school?" Maria piped up. She gave a short jerk to the left with her chin, and Max saw Kyle Valenti striding up to them.

Kyle Valenti. Son of the late Sheriff Valenti, the man Max and the others had thought was their most dangerous enemy. Until they met DuPris. The very much still alive DuPris.

"So who wants to go?" Maria repeated, her voice edged with a manic cheerfulness.

"I'll go," Michael said. His tone was casual, but Max could see the tension in Michael's body. "Where is it?"

"At the Y," Maria answered. She picked up a baby carrot and stuck the whole thing in her mouth. It looked like she'd suddenly forgotten how to chew. Or like she'd forgotten that's even what you did after you put food in your mouth.

Kyle sat down next to Liz without saying a word. He slammed a stack of photos on the table.

Isabel fanned out the photos, and Max ran his eyes across them. He saw Isabel, Michael, Maria, Alex, Liz, and himself. In various combinations. In various locations. They'd been taken over a period of months, Max realized. Someone had been tracking him and his friends.

Max struggled to keep his face expressionless. He didn't want Kyle to have the satisfaction of any kind of reaction.

"My father took these," Kyle announced, saying each word slowly and deliberately. "He had you under observation. I want to know why. And I want to know where he is. And I want to know now."

For one wild moment Max thought about telling Kyle the truth. It's not like he'd believe it. Max tried to imagine it: See, Kyle, your dad was an agent with an organization called Project Clean Slate, whose mission was to track down aliens on earth, experiment on them, and possibly exterminate them. Somebody in Clean Slate, though not your dad, since he wasn't old enough, found one alien in an incubation pod left on earth after the Roswell Incident-you know, where that spaceship crashed out in the desert in the forties.

Oh, and just FYI, so you have the whole story, Michael, Isabel, and I were in pods just like it, but Clean Slate didn't find us.

Anyway, when the alien in the pod Clean Slate found finally completed the maturation process and broke free more than forty years later, your dad locked it in a secret underground compound. You following me, Kyle? He called the alien Adam, and, oh yeah, he had Adam call him Dad. So I guess that makes Adam like your brother or something.

Anyway, this other alien, DuPris, the big enchilada of aliens, the alien who caused the ship to crash in the first place, he took control of Adam and used Adam to kill your dad. Yeah, Adam, well, really DuPris, blasted him with enough power to turn him into a pile of ashes on the floor. Anything else I can help you with?

Yep. That would go over real well.

Michael picked up one of the pictures. Max leaned over to get a look. It showed Michael and Maria sprawling on Michael's bed at his last foster home, in the middle of a serious kiss. Valenti had to have been practically right outside the window when he took it, or else he had a state-of-the-art telephoto lens.

Max shot a glance at Maria. She'd finally started chewing her carrot. He could see that she was trying to act totally normal-they all were. But the loose sleeves of her poet's shirt were fluttering, and it was totally clear that Maria was trembling.

"I don't think you should show these to people," Michael told Kyle, giving up the attempt to hide his fury. He slapped the photo facedown on the table. "Unless you want everyone to know your dad was a perv."

Kyle locked eyes with Michael. Max frantically tried to figure out what to do in order to get one of them to back down.

Then the bell rang.

Kyle shoved himself to his feet and swept up the photos. "This isn't over," he warned them. "Sooner or later, I'm getting the truth about what happened to my father. And I'm getting it from one of you."

"Go, Kevin!" Maria leaped to her feet. "Go, go, go!"

Michael reached out, snagged her by the elbow, and pulled her back down to her seat next to him on the bleachers. "That is a ten-year-old boy out there on the court," he explained. "What you just did qualifies as cruel and unusual punishment."

Maria smiled at him. "I know. But my mom and dad aren't here to humiliate him-since the big D they try never to be at the same place at the same time-so I have to do it," she explained. "I mean, isn't complaining about your family's behavior key to ten-year-old male bonding?"

"I guess," Michael mumbled. Like he was supposed to know? Well, maybe he should. He'd had more families than pretty much any kid. Foster families, anyway He should be in The Guinness Book of World Records.

He suddenly got the feeling that he was being watched. Oh yeah, he told himself. Everybody is staring at the pathetic boy who doesn't have a family. They're all about to burst into tears over your hard, hard life.

"Oh, I'm so stupid. How could I have asked you about fam-you don't have a-" Maria turned to the mom type sitting next to her. "Can you give me a hand?" she asked. "My foot is stuck so far down my throat, I don't think I'll be able to get it out by myself."

"I know the feeling," the woman answered. Then she jumped up. "Great job, Robbie!" she shouted, punching her fist in the air.

"Don't sweat it," Michael told Maria. "It's not like I need a family. Not now that I have my own place."

He still could hardly believe that Ray Iburg, the only adult survivor of the crash besides DuPris, had left him the UFO museum and the apartment above it. Free at last. Oh, baby, he was free at last.

"But a family isn't just-" Maria began. Then she stopped herself.

"I have you and everyone else for the other stuff," Michael answered. He couldn't quite believe he'd actually said that out loud. But it was true. They were his family in every way that mattered.

Maria gave his hand a quick squeeze, then let it go fast. "I guess that means I have to humiliate you, too, then, huh?" she asked. "Come on, do a wave with me."

"You can't do a wave with two people," Michael answered.

"Just because it's never been attempted before doesn't mean it can't be done," Maria insisted. And Michael knew that in another minute he'd be jumping up with his hands over his head. When you were with Maria, some things were just inevitable.

Like that time she'd made him help her decorate a cake. Not just watch. Help.

He was struck by a flash of memory-him licking a glob of icing off Maria's finger. A jolt of heat zigzagged through him as he thought about it. Don't even go there, he ordered himself. He and Maria were finally getting to be friends again. Real friends. There was no way Michael was going to mess things up by even getting close to that line between friendship and the kind of thing Valenti had immortalized in that picture.

Yeah, it would feel good to kiss Maria again. It would feel amazing. And his body wanted it, no question. But his mind, or his heart, or whatever knew that there was still a girl called Cameron out there. And that-

"Okay, if Kevin's team makes this basket, we do it," Maria told him, yanking him out of his thoughts. "You first, then me."

Michael watched as the kid with the ball hurled it toward the basket. It bounced from the backboard to the rim, teetered, then swish.

"Whoo-hoo!" Michael shouted as he jumped to his feet and swept his arms up and down. He figured if he was going to do it, he should do it.

Maria jumped up next, going all the way up on her toes as she thrust her arms into the air. Michael tried very hard not to notice the expanse of creamy, soft-looking skin bared by her hiked-up sweater.

He forced his eyes back to the game, then got that feeling again. That prickly feeling of being watched. Of course you're being watched, you big idiot, he told himself. You just did a two-person wave.

A kid with a crew cut grabbed the ball from one of Kevin's teammates. He took off for the other side of the court. The ref blew the whistle and rolled his hands around each other.

"No way!" a man in a suit yelled from the opposite bleachers. "Cameron's never gotten called for traveling!"

Michael felt Maria stiffen, just slightly, but enough for him to notice. He thought, at least he'd wanted to think, that Maria was over the Cameron situation.

But she'd really laid herself on the line when she'd told him that he had to choose between her and Isabel. She'd made herself-what was that chick word?-vulnerable. And he'd all but shoved it in her face that he wasn't choosing anyone but Cameron. Cameron, who then left without even bothering to wake him up and say good-bye.

Michael shot a quick glance at Maria. She was watching the game, seemed okay. If he hadn't caught that little reaction when that man had shouted out, "Cameron," he wouldn't even know she'd been bothered by it.

It's not like Maria and I were a couple, he thought. It's not like I dumped her for Cameron.

But he'd known that Maria loved him. She'd told him that before he even met Cameron. Maria had guts that way. She would tell people how she felt even if she wasn't sure she'd like what she heard back from them.

"Want to do another wave?" he asked her. He wanted to do something to show her that she was important to him. A wave was probably an exceedingly dorky way to do it, but hey, this was Maria. Dorky things made her happy.

"Not now. The other team's about to score," she answered. At least she looked at him when she said it, looked at him and smiled one of her Maria smiles. "Besides," she added. "People are still staring at us from the last one."

So she felt it, too.

Michael did a quick scan of the people sitting around them. Everyone was watching the kids play, except one older-sister type who was surreptitiously reading a book.

But he still couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. In fact, the feeling was getting stronger.

Michael did a sweep of the opposite bleachers, methodically glancing from face to face. His muscles instinctively tensed when he got to a pair of eyes drilling directly into his.

Kyle Valenti was giving him the death stare. Which Michael couldn't care less about. Even if Michael didn't have powers, he could take on Kyle.

But the hair on the back of his neck stood up when Kyle moved his gaze from Michael to Maria. Maria didn't have any powers. She didn't have any way to defend herself against Kyle.

Michael slid a little closer to Maria. He wasn't going to let anything happen to her. If Kyle took one step toward Maria-one step-Michael would take him out. Permanently.