I have discovered there are moments in life when honesty becomes unavoidable.
This is inconvenient.
Especially when the truth sounds insane.
Detective Morris stood halfway up the observatory stairs.
Vale stood directly behind him.
Three uniformed officers occupied the landing below.
Nobody moved.
Nobody spoke.
For several seconds the entire human race appeared to be buffering.
Morris looked at me.
Then beyond me.
Then beyond me again.
“Well,” he said.
“Good morning, Detective.”
“Doctor.”
He nodded toward Elian.
“That explains the wall.”
I smiled.
“I’ve been saying that for days.”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t believe me.”
“No.”
“And now?”
Morris stared at the six-foot queen bee standing beneath one of the world’s great telescopes.
“Now I owe you an apology.”
Vale never took his eyes off Elian.
“She’s beautiful.”
The words escaped before he could stop them.
The room grew quiet.
Even Morris looked surprised.
Vale turned slightly red.
“Professionally speaking,” he added.
“Of course,” Morris said.
“I mean biologically.”
“Naturally.”
“Shut up.”
“Gladly.”
Elian watched the exchange.
“Are you always like this?”
“Unfortunately,” Morris said.
“Then humanity is more resilient than expected.”
For the first time, Morris laughed.
Not because the joke was especially good.
Because hearing a giant extraterrestrial queen bee make one broke something loose inside him.
The impossible had arrived.
And it had a sense of humor.
That changed things.
Outside, rotor blades hammered the morning air.
The sound echoed through the dome.
Morris looked toward the windows.
“We’re running out of time.”
“For what?” I asked.
“For this remaining a police matter.”
“It stopped being a police matter when she came through my bedroom wall.”
“Fair point.”
Vale stepped closer.
“Are you really extraterrestrial?”
“Yes.”
“How far away?”
“Far.”
“That’s not helpful.”
“It is accurate.”
Vale considered that.
“Also fair.”
One of the officers below finally found his voice.
“Detective…”
“Not now.”
“Sir…”
“Still not now.”
The officer wisely retreated into silence.
Morris looked at Elian.
Really looked.
Not as evidence.
Not as a suspect.
Not as a threat.
As a person.
“Did you kill Carl Jensen?”
“Yes.”
The answer hung in the air.
Direct.
Calm.
Unapologetic.
“He intended to remove Doctor Arlen’s lung.”
“That part is true.”
“He would have killed him.”
“Probably.”
“Not probably,” Elian said. “Certainly.”
Morris nodded slowly.
“Why save him?”
Now it was my turn to look at her.
I wanted to hear the answer too.
Elian seemed surprised by the question.
As though nobody had ever asked it.
“He was alive.”
“That’s it?”
“Is that insufficient?”
Morris opened his mouth.
Closed it again.
“No.”
For a moment nobody spoke.
Because nobody could improve on that answer.
He was alive.
That was enough.
Outside, another helicopter arrived.
Then another.
The windows vibrated.
Radios crackled below.
A new voice sounded from one of the officer’s earpieces.
Loud enough for everyone to hear.
“Federal units arriving now.”
Morris muttered something unprintable.
“What happens if they find her?” I asked.
“Depends who’s first through the door.”
“That doesn’t sound encouraging.”
“It isn’t.”
Vale looked at Elian.
“Can you leave?”
Her wings shifted.
Then drooped.
“No.”
The answer frightened everyone.
Even her.
I could see it.
The uncertainty.
The exhaustion.
The separation from the Hive.
She was weakening.
And for the first time, people other than me noticed.
Morris noticed.
Vale noticed.
The officers noticed.
The queen looked vulnerable.
Which somehow made her more dangerous.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
Morris rubbed his face.
“This is going to be the strangest report I’ve ever written.”
“You could leave out the bee part.”
“That seems central.”
“Worth a try.”
“Doctor.”
“Detective.”
“Shut up.”
“Fair.”
Elian looked between us.
“You communicate affection through conflict.”
“That is disturbingly accurate,” Vale said.
A radio exploded with static.
Then a voice.
Sharp.
Urgent.
Official.
“All personnel hold position. Repeat. Hold position. Federal response team is assuming command.”
Morris rolled his eyes.
“There it is.”
“What?” I asked.
“The moment everything gets worse.”
Footsteps echoed below.
Many footsteps.
Fast.
Disciplined.
Armed.
The sort of footsteps that arrive with paperwork and end with lawyers.
Vale moved toward the stairwell and looked down.
His expression changed immediately.
“Morris.”
“I know that tone.”
“You should come see this.”
Morris joined him.
A second later he sighed.
“Of course.”
“How bad?” I asked.
“Let’s just say nobody brought flowers.”
The footsteps grew louder.
Closer.
Coming up the stairs.
Elian stood quietly beneath the telescope.
Golden wings folded.
Eyes calm.
Almost serene.
As though she had accepted something the rest of us had not.
I moved beside her.
“What are you thinking?” I whispered.
“That your species is afraid.”
“Some of us.”
“Most of you.”
“Also fair.”
She looked at me.
Then smiled.
The same smile.
The one that kept causing trouble with my pulse.
“You are less afraid than the others.”
“I have had practice.”
“With extraterrestrial queens?”
“No. Women.”
To my astonishment, she laughed.
A warm sound.
The same sound I had heard in my bedroom after she came through the wall.
The same sound that had changed everything.
At the bottom of the stairs, a new figure appeared.
Tall.
Gray suit.
Expressionless.
The sort of man who probably filed taxes against his own children.
He stopped when he saw Elian.
His face froze.
Not fear.
Not wonder.
Calculation.
Which worried me more.
Much more.
For the first time since entering the observatory, Morris stepped forward.
Not toward Elian.
Toward the man.
Blocking the stairs.
Just slightly.
Enough.
The suited man looked at him.
“Detective.”
“Sir.”
“Step aside.”
Morris glanced back at Elian.
Then at me.
Then at Vale.
The choice took less than a second.
“No.”
The observatory became very quiet.
Outside, Los Angeles awakened beneath the rising sun.
Inside, humanity made its first decision.