Apocalypse Before Finals by Julie Steimle (electric book reader txt) 📕

Agent Keane examined the circles under his superior's eyes and leaned against the desk. "Talking helps."

Agent Sicamore chuckled. "Uh..." He thought about it weakly and shook his head. "No. That's ok."

Unable to help, the young agent shrugged then leaned over the table to flip open the file he had brought. "Well, I took a look at this report, and you really should see what is in here. The satellite got these shots of maneuvers on the planet surface and another shot of them disabling the NASA weather satellite. You know, the one that supposedly crashed in the northern hemisphere last Monday."

Sicamore looked over at it and nodded with a dry smirk. It was as he thought. All the regular satellites sent to Mars saw what the Martians wanted them to see. Those people were millions of years more advanced after all. Only the FBI's new stealth satellite had remained undiscovered and therefore left untouched. But that would not last forever. After all, the U.S. had been tracking spacecraft around the earth for decades, trying to follow them without success.

"Mr. Sicamore?" Keane said, leaning in, "Why don't we urge our military to prepare for war? Forget those two kids. They are only sidemen - not really in the military circle anyway. And I think those Martians might attack soon if - "

"No, no, no." Shaking his head, Sicamore cringed. "We have no evidence of them massing troops for an attack, Steve. So far all we have is a record of them minding their own business."

"They destroyed that satellite," Keane interjected. "I'd say that is a sign of hostility."

"It is only a sign that they want to be left alone," Agent Sicamore replied. "Our satellite was in their territory."

The room went silent for a while. Only the hum of the fan could be heard. Agent Keane swallowed, eying Sicamore and the clammy, desperate stare on his superior's face. "They really frightened you, didn't they?"

Agent Sicamore quickly looked at him. It took a second to compose himself as he answered, "It isn't that." He walked over to his desk and sat back into his chair, heavily thinking. "I just think the situation is more complex than them wanting to attack us."

With ill-masked disbelief, Agent Keane heaved out a solemn breath of air and turned to leave.

"I can't say they won't attack us - because they might," Agent Sicamore continued. "But I think the likelihood of that happening is very slim. They just seem to want to stay quietly in the background."

"Control quietly in the background," Keane murmured.

"What's that?" Sicamore asked, leaning forward.

Stiffening, Agent Keane flustered, but then he stuck to his remark, deciding it was better to voice it than let it stay hid. "I was just saying that it feels like they are trying to infiltrate silently into the system. Our system. That's all. It just so subversive."

Agent Sicamore nearly laughed. But as quickly as he found it funny he sobered up and nodded. "Indeed, my friend, I dare say they already have."

Agent Keane closed his eyes and sighed with a nod.

"I've got it!" Zormna declared as she walked with Jeff to his motorcycle across the student parking lot. "1984."

It was after school. Everyone was going home. And both of them were done with their afterschool 'counseling' sessions - another part of their punishment for ditching.

"Nice year. What of it?" Jeff responded, walking with her. When they arrived, he checked his bike over to make sure no one had messed with it, an old precautionary measure from back Home. Jeff was always careful about that sort of thing.

She scowled at him, propping her hands on her hips while waiting for him to finish his security check. "The book I'll read." But then she thoughtfully paused. "Or maybe I'll read Animal Farm. I hear that one is a good one too. Mrs. Ryant says George Orwell has important things to say and I ought to read his books."

Jeff shrugged and threw his leg astride the motorcycle, gunning the motor as soon as he could. "I suppose, if you like depressing stuff."

Zormna scowled at him again with the inclination to kick him, if only a little. "Well, Brian took Les Miserables, and I wanted to read that one."

Jeff glanced back at her with surprise. Zormna got wrapped up in the oddest things. Currently it was the local books she was reading. She had been devouring book after book since she had learned to read English a year ago, and she often borrowed the older classics from Mrs. Ryant who was her English teacher from last year.

 "I heard from Joy that Les Miserables was one of the best novels ever written. And when I saw it on the book list for English, I thought I'd do that - but Brian took it." Zormna was now sulking, much more like her usual self when she was put out. It made her seem more her age, as she was only fifteen. But also made her look cute. He didn't ever tell her though. She didn't react well to such remarks.

Jeff laughed. "You know, you can still read the book. You just can't do a report on it." He was about to say something else to tease her, but he stopped when his eyes caught on the watching FBI agents who were sitting in the car across the street. Not that the FBI watching them was unusual, but there were days when it wearied him. It wasn't like they were going to discover anything new about them. They were just going to high school and biding their time until they could both go Home. And Jeff didn't know when that would be. He was honestly hoping to graduate high school - for once.

With an irritated look, he gestured for Zormna to hurry on back of the bike so he could take her home.

She peeked over at the FBI also and immediately complied.

They really were inseparable now, the two of them. Since the beginning of that year, Jeff and Zormna went everywhere together, which no doubt encouraged the rumor that they were a couple. But the real reason they were so inseparable was because Jeff did not want the FBI to snatch Zormna off the street again, as it happened when she had been alone, and outnumbered. Her three-day kidnapping last year had been a nightmare for both of them. Since then, he had tried to get Zormna to move in with his 'family', but she wouldn't do it. She was too headstrong and independent. So giving her rides was the next best thing. It was a taxing job being her bodyguard.

The agents followed them with their eyes a good ways before calling ahead to the next set of operatives at the usual place.

"Agent Barlow to Hayworth. They've gone from the school. Have you spotted them?"

The agents waiting for the other side, stationed near Zormna's house, responded. <<They're riding by now. It looks like they're going to the Boy's place.>>

The agents across the street from the school waited and listened to their cell phones for the ring.

The melody came out, beeping like a pager.

"Barlow here," a dark haired agent said, lifting the phone to his ear.

<<The two have arrived. I suppose she'll be staying for dinner tonight again.>>

Agent Barlow chuckled and nodded. "Alright, inform Agents Hayworth and Simms when he takes her home, but keep an eye out for any sneaking out. They like to do that just to mess you."

The voice of the other man laughed mildly on the other side. Agent Barlow pressed the button to turn off his cell phone.

Turning to his partner, he said, "All clear here."

Indeed, nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Nor had anything intended to happen. Jeff, as was said, had promised many people that he would stick around and finish out school. So, no more ditching and sneaking off with Zormna, and no more adventures across the country - even if it was great fun to get away from the quiet uniformity of the Pennington suburb. That night, they merely finished their homework in the sterile Spartan living room of the 'Streigle' home. And after, Jeff practiced his banjo, his violin, and worked on his technique with his balalaika while Zormna watched in amusement as well as private amazement...their noise giving cover for the others in the household who directed the Arrassian rebellion from the back recesses of a locked room which the FBI did not know about. And after all that, they ate dinner made by Jeff's pretended Aunt Mary, a dish she found online which promised to be interesting. Later Jeff took Zormna home and double checked her security system to make sure no one would break in and mess with her.

The usual.

To get the right answer you have to ask the right questions. - anon -

Jeff awoke that morning with the oddest feeling. He couldn't quite place it. It had a swirling sensation in his head and chest, with a peculiar calmness...like being in the eye of a tornado. Most of his life back Home had been torn up and tossed about in the storm of caste-system politics. And though it had been relatively peaceful for him Pennington, the FBI had made a lousy mess of that. And as he rubbed his bleary eyes, glancing about his room (which on one side he had a collection of various stringed instruments lined up, which he played, and on the other side was his desk where he was currently messing around with a computer he had taken apart and intended to make better), he got the impression that he was in a space of deceptive peace.

His mind drifted to the current events as he slid out of his covers to start the day. Up until that point, the rebellion of Arras (Jeff's and Zormna's home world and the real name of Mars) had been succeeding in many places. Jeff and the rest living in his household were confident that things would go well, maintaining that they would return Home at the most critical point of their fight to help it succeed. Only, in his gut that morning he felt this terrible underlying horridness. It crawled up into his chest and seemed to wrap around his heart.

Then something snapped.

Jeff lurched to a stop, pawing his chest. It was nothing within him that had snapped. Mentally feeling out, as he was one of those intuitive sorts who had learned long ago that the material world was merely a skin to a more substantial world beyond, Jeff sensed with a pang that something important had broken.

He quickly rushed out of his room to their radio room for the rebellion to see if something had gone wrong. But when he arrived Eergvin, the college-aged redhead who went by the name of Eric, blearily looked up from his desk where he was listening to communications in boredom. He then eyed Jeff in his shorts and tee shirt, hair all mussed up. "Something the matter?"

Deciding not to worry him, Jeff shook his head and stepped out again.

Yet 'Eric' took notice, mentally tucking the incident