Starstruck

Chapter 14b: Coronal attributes (part 2)

His smile deepened and my nervousness lessened further. Though he looked at least seventy--easily the oldest-looking person in the room--he was amazingly charismatic. "I doubt that, but thank you."

I had to think back to what I'd just said to make his words make sense.

"Please, have a seat." He released my hand to gesture toward the biggest, most comfortable-looking chair in the room and my nervousness immediately flooded back.

"M!" Rigel's voice came from behind me and I turned to him with intense relief. He gave me a quick, reassuring smile, then frowned at the others. "I asked you not to start before I joined you."

His hair was still damp from the shower and I had to restrain myself from too-obviously inhaling his unique scent.

"Young man, I told you that we would proceed as we think best," said the man who had introduced himself as Allister Adair. He frowned at the Stuarts, who stood together near the doorway. "Are you certain--?"

"Yes." Dr. Stuart's voice was definite. "She'll be much more comfortable if Rigel is here for this."

Mr. Adair raised a skeptical eyebrow but didn't argue.

My nervousness began to border on panic, and it was all I could do not to reach for Rigel's hand. I desperately needed the courage I knew his touch would give me. But after what he'd said earlier and the way he'd been acting today, I didn't dare, especially in front of everyone.

"Marsha?" Shim motioned again to the chair.

Trying not to look as scared as I felt, I moved to the big chair and sat down, half expecting shackles to materialize. They didn't. Rigel took a step toward me, but his father put a hand on his shoulder, restraining him. Still, knowing he wanted to be closer to me made me feel a little better.

"So, what is this all about?" I asked, struggling to keep my voice steady.

One of the other men now stood. He was the youngest one in the room, except for Rigel and me--he looked about twenty, though of course with Martians there was no knowing. Whip thin, he was shorter than the other men, about Kyna's height, with carefully combed sandy hair. I tried to control my instinctive dislike.

"Certain claims have been put forth," he said. His voice was thin, too, and higher than I expected. "We are here to verify them--or not."

"Claims?" I assumed he meant the royal lineage the Stuarts said I possessed. With a fortifying glance at Rigel, I lifted my chin. "And you are?"

The haughtiness in my tone seemed to startle him almost as much as it startled me. "Flynn. Flynn Kellen. Genetics researcher at the World Health Organization here on Earth, and member of one of the leading scientific families on Mars." There was a grudging deference in his tone that hadn't been there before.

"A colleague of mine," Shim clarified. "He is here at Allister's request to help with any, ah, tests that might be necessary."

Again with the tests! I sent another panicked glance toward Rigel. His lips were pressed together in a thin, angry line that didn't reassure me at all.

"I need no tests," declared the little woman, Nara. "I'm perfectly satisfied of her lineage." Then, to me, "As far as I'm concerned, my dear, you are my born Sovereign and I will treat you as such."

Though her exaggerated deference made me feel really, really strange, I was also grateful for her support, so I managed another smile. "Uh, thanks . . . Nara."

To my acute embarrassment, she rose again and sank into another deep curtsey before sitting back down.

"Can we please get on with it?" the other woman, Kyna, said testily. "I'd like to know whether leaving my research at such a critical juncture was justified."

"Kyna Nuallan is one of NASA's leading astrophysicists," Rigel's father explained in an undertone.

I was about to ask if most of the top scientists on Earth were really Martians, but Shim spoke again.

"We'd first like to ask you a few questions, Marsha." I swallowed at the word first. "I understand that you were adopted at an early age, correct?" I nodded. "Please tell us everything you remember from your earliest childhood."

"Um . . ." I gulped, trying to marshal my thoughts. "I don't remember a whole lot, actually." Again I glanced at Rigel, remembering our first conversation in the cafeteria. He gave me a little nod, which reassured me. A little. So, with a lot of embarrassing pauses and stammering, I told them basically what I'd told him, about being adopted, then orphaned again, then raised by my aunt and uncle.

"So you remember nothing--nothing at all--about your birth parents?" Allister asked, even though I'd already said that.

I shook my head, wondering why it should matter so much. "I wasn't quite two when they, um, died. So, no."

Now the only man who hadn't yet spoken leaned forward in his chair. "And yet, from what Ariel Stuart tells us, you seem to have retained some vestiges of memory, though you apparently didn't realize it."

"This is Bain Quinlan, a NASA psychiatrist," Shim informed me. "He is fully qualified to evaluate certain qualities considered necessary for sovereignty."

"Qualities?" I looked to Rigel and his parents in confusion.

His mother stepped forward. "But not before dinner," she said firmly. "And I won't have Marsha questioned over her meal, either. That can wait. She has had multiple shocks these past few days and I won't have her upset further--particularly on an empty stomach. Come along into the dining room, everyone, Marsha."

She put a hand on my shoulder and I was grateful, not only for her words but for the faint echo of Rigel's calm that flowed through me at her touch.

As we all moved toward the dining room, Rigel stepped to my side, which calmed me further, though I noticed he was very careful not to actually touch me. On impulse, I moved closer to him--only to have him move the exact same distance away from me.

"What?" I whispered.

He looked at me with those amazing eyes and gave his head a small shake. "Not now," he muttered, for my ears alone. "I'll explain later."

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