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was probably right.

 

[1] "In Reno? Make up a better story than that, moron. The FBI already know you are authentic - you red headed green-eyed geek."

[2] "Why would they believe a liar like you? Agent Palmer already saw you attack Zormna with a meat fork. He was the one who told me to help Zormna."

[3] Shouldn't we just squash this cockroach now, Jafarr? I think even Sicamore might thank us."

[4] "Shut up! You filthy Tarrn flea! I'll kill you so fast your ancestors will be weeping,"

Chapter Twelve: Doors

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"It passed, scraping faintly across the cellar door. And age of almost intolerable suspense intervened;

then I heard it fumbling at the latch! It had found the door! The Martians understood doors!" p. 112

 

 

Jafarr slept outside Zormna's tent as usual, but to some it was obvious that he was sleeping with one eye open. Most of the college students shunned Kyle after his outburst in Zormna and Jafarr's alien language. However, the ones that didn't shun him surrounded him with questions - the main one being, what it was really like in space.

Kyle shot them a tired look and replied repeatedly, "The trip in space from there to here was incredibly short. I didn't get much time there to tell you."

They were disappointed.

The problem was, for him, was that he failed to convince them he wasn't guilty of attempted murder up on that hill. Despite all that, he did not give up trying to convince the others that Zormna and Jafarr were evil. Around the campfire that night, several listened to him explain his motives for assassination.

"...She's literally Hitler," he summed up. "And I was hoping to prevent another world war."

They stared, then looked back to where the pair were 'sleeping'. Some of them had a hard time imagining the five foot tall girl with porcelain skin leading a killer army.

"Another world war? There was one before?" one of his old friends asked, eyes narrowing.

Kyle nodded. "Yeah. The one which made Mars the desolate, airless place it is today. You wanna know the truth? Mars had water. Mars had trees and life and all that. The world war vaporized the atmosphere and our people fled to safety. It was a fight to establish the peace that we have now, and she'll destroy it. I am a refugee from all that."

Janelle listened intently, nodding with pity at Kyle whom she had had forgiven for lying to her. "That's awful."

"Yeah." Kyle nodded. "Thing is, all good citizens of the nation of Arras have been terrorized by the threat of the last Tarrn coming back overthrow our government and oppress us. The People's Military was formed to keep that from ever happening, but since she's here," motioning over to where Zormna slept and Jafarr kept watch, "that means that she must be the chosen Tarrn. You saw the way she fought. The terrorists must have trained her to be their leader. If I could call home, I'd let the People's Military know where she was so they could stop her."

"And him?" one of his listeners asked.

Motioning to where Jafarr lay, Kyle said, "I don't know about him. He's probably her bodyguard. Only..." He pinched his lower lip and chin in thought. "Well, he looks like he is of a separate, uh, ethic group. We call them Seer Class. Thing is, no Seer Class boy would ever leave Arras. They're superstitious like that."

"Do you think she coerced him?" Janelle asked eagerly.

Kyle shrugged, peeking up the hill again. "I can't be sure. She's got the looks of the ancient queen, and she was quite a seductress. That's enough to get any man to do anything for her. But there is something weird about him."

They all stared at that description, because both had been strange in their way, though Jafarr seemed the most normal out of the duo.

"Like what?" one of the guys asked.

Hearing his tone of mocking incredulity, Kyle said, "Like...he seems to be here willingly. And those scars on his face.... I don't know. That's unusual. People like him would be the quiet, praying kind. But it looks like he could be part of the terrorist group, especially with how the FBI are more freaked about him than her."

Janelle gasped.

The group glanced over at the two sleeping near the tent...

Though these campers were listening to Kyle intently, they were in the minority. Jafarr might have been more worried, but he wasn't. Only Kyle concerned him. If a few fools believed him, it made no difference. Logically, only Kyle would dare attack them. The others would only be a little more prejudiced towards them than they already were, and that really wasn't a problem. All Jafarr really had to do was watch Zormna's back and handle the FBI, as usual. And the FBI would also watch Kyle, which for Jafarr was a comforting thought.

Zormna woke early the next day. She couldn't sleep well now that she knew there was a man in camp intent on killing her, or at least that was what she told Jafarr when she let him slip into her tent to catch some real sleep. She spent most of the early morning exercising outside the tent. Nobody else was awake, including the usual early risers. She took that moment to sneak in a jog.

After the sun began to lift from the horizon and Zormna had circled the camp twice, she stood over him and sighed.

He blinked and looked up at her, letting a slight grin cross his lips. "Sleep well?"

She shrugged. "As can be expected after nearly being skewered by a psycho."

Jafarr chuckled and sat up, turning around.

"Did you sleep well?" she asked him, squatting down so they could be eye-level.

Jafarr got up and stretched. "Just like being on watch in the computer center."

"I suppose that means 'no'," Zormna said, shaking her head and standing to her full height.

He nodded then looked around for their backpacks.

Zormna pointed into the tent. "I stuffed them in there. I figured Mr. Kyle, or whatever his real name is, would have wanted to poison us, so I thought it would be safer this way."

Shrugging silently, Jafarr crawled into the tent and pulled out the food bag.

"We're running out of granola bars," Jafarr remarked with a smirk, taking out the last box.

Glancing around at the desert Zormna sighed. "I didn't expect to be in the desert so long. I thought we'd just get the bones and go. But with that ship... I can't leave it here for the FBI to tear apart. It's too much tech for them to get their hands on. Can you just imagine them attempting to reverse engineer it?"

Jafarr nodded, crawling out of the tent and dragging some fruit snack bags with him. "Well, hopefully they'll unearth the door so we can get inside. The rest should be easy from there."

Agreeing, Zormna sat down on the rocks. She pulled a granola bar out of the box. "I think we had better get the bones today then. I think they should be able to open the door by this afternoon."

Jafarr sighed and gazed out over the camp, wishing that it would soon be over.

The rest of the campground awoke an hour later. Kyle was one of the first to awake. When he saw that Jafarr and Zormna were alert and chatting in their tent door, he grumbled. It was too late to harm either of them. He had to satisfy himself with waiting.

Those two no longer separated from each other. They walked like a pair joined at the hip, more Jafarr keeping to Zormna's impulsive side than him jerking her around to where he wanted to go. Of course, there was a certain amount of bickering between the two when it came to what they had to do that day. The first half of the day Zormna and Jafarr haunted the lab tent. They both carried the small box with the velvet lining. Zormna tried convincing the technicians to lay all the bones in the box out of respect for the dead, but one of the technicians refused. He was one of Kyle's new followers, and he was determined to act opposite to Zormna's wishes.

"I will not be placing those bones in that box!" the technician bellowed, his eyes searching for flaws in Zormna. He was taking her paleness as a personal insult, imagining her as a neo-Nazi.

But the other one gaped at his stubbornness. "Steve, what harm would it do to put them in there? Those two are probably going to snatch the bones anyway, why not at least put it in the mini coffin?"

Zormna nodded.

The one called Steve growled. "I won't give in to a would-be dictator!"

Jafarr broke into an immediate laugh, nodding as he quickly understood. "Is that what what's-his-name, Kyle, told you?"

Steve tightened his face and glared at Jafarr. He nodded sharply.

"What other nonsense did he fill you with?" Jafarr asked.

The other technician sighed. Shaking his head, he wearily watched his head, watching his friend bluster and bristle at Jeff's mocking amusement.

"He said you two were trying to overthrow the government and set this girl up as queen," Steve defensively answered.

"I can't believe you listened to that guy," his friend muttered while cleaning up their instruments. They were done anyway. "He's lied to us since the moment we met him. His name probably isn't even Kyle."

"What would be his alien name?" murmured one of their assistants near the back end of the tent.

Steve's friend shrugged. "A K name? I dunno." He peeked at Zormna who looked annoyed. "Kwerty? Kul'dukat? Klingon?"

Jafarr smothered a chuckle.

Zormna rolled her eyes.

"Kwellik? Kinkajou? Koala?" the assistant suggested.

"Kilroy."

"Kirk?"

"How about Kahn?" Jafarr suggested. "He's got a lot of wrath."

Zormna choked on a laugh this time, shaking her head and closing her eyes.

Steve glared at his friend and then turned to snarl at Jafarr. "But is it true? Are you planning to overthrow your government?"

Moaning, Zormna rubbed her forehead, muttering, "Kill joy..."

Meeting her eyes Jafarr murmured, "Half-truths are the most effective lies." But then he looked to Steve. "No doubt he made it look like the government was some benevolent organization that cared very well for its citizens. Right?"

Taken aback, Steve stiffened. "What do you mean?"

With a shrug, Jafarr said, "What I mean is, depending on what side of the government you stand changes your perception of it. An SS officer of the third Reich had a decent view of the Nazi party, didn't it? But that didn't mean they were good."

Several breaths drew in, listening to him.

"You see," he said. "I was raised on the lower end of the social spectrum."

"I know. He told us you are of a Seer Class, or something like that," Steve broke in. "

Jafarr smirked. "That's a guess on his part, due to my coloring. But inaccurate. My mother was of Seer Class. My father was of no class. A regular Joe, so-to-speak. But your friend, as indicated by the fancy tattoo on his left shoulder, is a member of the elite ruling class. Therefore he would have had a peachy keen life with very little to oppress him. So, of course, he would

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