Cal and Cecil stepped out of the alleyway, giggling.

  Across the street, V stood on the walkway beside Maria, who held a coach gun low in her arms.

  Seeing that everything was fine, Maria turned to leave.

  Cal gave chase, catching her at the restaurant door. “I’m sorry,” he said, breathless. “I think about you all the time.”

  Maria hmphed, but she didn’t leave or pull her arm from his hand.

  Or shoot him.

  “I should have made you a bigger part of my life sooner. Can we start now–come to this meeting with us?”

  “What meeting?” Maria asked, her tone not as sharp as it could have been.

  Cal opened his mouth to answer—but Cecil beat him to it, apparently deciding she was invited to this conversation.

  “Big Important Meeting!” she blurted. “We’re going to tell them everything! And introduce them to Brenda!”

  “Brenda?” Maria’s voice a pitch higher than she had intended.

  Cal grumbled, “Not here. Too many people. Come with us, and you’ll hear it all in the meeting anyway. And after…”

  He hesitated, blushing—mostly because Cecil was openly gawking at him.

  “…you can come to the ranch. I can make dinner.”

  “You mean print dinner?” Maria teased, giving him a playful glare.

  “Look, one thing at a time. Come with us?”

  Maria smiled and pushed up onto her toes for a quick peck. “Do I bring the shotgun?” she whispered.

  —

  Maria did not bring her shotgun.

  She did change clothes.

  —

  The quartet arrived outside the Governor’s Mansion, just down the street from the ugly old wreck of the Hollow.

  The mansion was a statement—a beautiful building designed to resemble the classic American architecture of the capital in its time. Large and white, with a porch that ran across the entire front of both stories.

  A pair of massive French doors, embellished arches above them, served as the focal point. A pair of soldiers flanked them, looking a lot more relaxed than they were probably supposed to be—chatting, the younger of the pair puffing on a chem vape.

  “Appointment?” the older guard asked as he watched Cal and company disarm and place their weapons into a series of lockers set off to the side of the walk.

  “Callan Callahan,” Cal answered.

  “Really?” The guard smirked, looking him over.

  “Did you get to pick your fucking name?” Cal retorted.

  The guard chuckled and nodded. “Yeah, you’re expected. Lieutenant Governor’s office. This floor, go left.”

  “Lieutenant?” Cal raised an eyebrow.

  “Governor’s offworld,” the younger guard chimed in before taking another drag from the vape he definitely wasn’t supposed to have on duty.

  Cal nodded and led his posse onward.

  —

  The security scanner blared.

  Ahead of them, the doors bolted shut with a heavy clunk.

  The older guard raised an eyebrow at Cal.

  Cal shrugged.

  “Oh, shit,” Cecil muttered.

  She bent down, dug into the side of her boot, and pulled out a small folding knife.

  She started to hand it to the guard, but he just shook his head and motioned to the lockers.

  “Put it up.”

  Cecil did—also remembering the polymer knuckle dusters she’d printed last week.

  She fished them out of her jacket’s interior pocket and tossed them into the locker too.

  Maria was openly laughing as Savannah shook her head.

  “Doesn’t get bullied, I’m guessing?” the older guard chuckled.

  “Not twice, no,” Cal confirmed.

  —

  The Lieutenant Governor was a fair skinned, middle-aged, man with too much hair—obviously augmented one way or another. He was core-world thin, also from medical assistance, judging by the lack of muscle and the pile of soda cans in the trash.

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  He wore a pinstripe three-piece suit, Old West style, bolo tie and all. His office decor and the twang in his voice—one that hadn’t belonged to any real accent in generations—made it clear:

  He was fully committed to the motif.

  Cal didn’t mind. These guys liked him.

  Didn’t matter who he really was—what they saw was a big man in cowboy attire who ran a large, successful cattle ranch and never bothered anyone.

  And he always made quota.

  A good citizen. A team player.

  Bureaucrats love anyone they think of as a team player.

  Cal let them assume whatever they liked—especially if it worked to his advantage.

  —

  Maria had received a very brief version of the story from Cal and the girls on the way to the meeting—whispered only when they were out of earshot of anyone who might be paying attention.

  She knew they weren’t lying. She understood the story.

  But she really hadn’t believed it.

  She still didn’t.

  Yes, Brenda was real. She was in the bracelet. She could talk.

  Maria believed that.

  It was obviously true.

  Maria believed aliens were reasonable. She was even okay with the fact that her boyfriend and his daughters had apparently discovered them and become impromptu ambassadors.

  Maria believed there was a ship. And a bomb.

  She even believed there was something called a Squidward.

  She believed all of that—much more readily than the Lieutenant Governor, who had taken quite a lot of convincing.

  In the end, he believed them.

  He said the Governor would be back in two or three days and that he’d send a message with a recording of the meeting and his notes, immediately.

  Someone would be in touch soon.

  But Maria?

  What she struggled to believe was that the girls could become invisible.

  And were immune to injury.

  She had seen no proof.

  Cal and the girls hadn’t mentioned it in the meeting. They had asked her not to.

  All they told the Lieutenant Governor was that Brenda gave them the devices so they could transport her off the ship—and eventually return her home.

  They also refused to discuss the ship’s location.

  Too many idiots in government. Too much risk that some fool would try to get inside and blow them all up.

  The Lieutenant Governor glanced out his office window during this discussion, eyeing the two guards out front, one of them puffing on his vape, and agreed that was a risk.

  Better to wait until higher-ups weighed in.

  —

  So to settle Maria’s doubts—she kept accusing them of trying to play a prank on her—when they got back to the ranch Cecil climbed to the top of the barn and performed her trick.

  Arms pinned flat to her sides.

  Legs straight.

  She just leaned forward and fell like a log.

  Slammed into the dirt.

  Maria didn’t see the impact. She couldn’t look.

  She screamed despite herself.

  The sound of Cecil hitting the ground almost brought her to tears.

  Until she heard the laughter.

  And then, Maria believed the whole story.

  —

  “Ok!” Cecil managed through her laughter, “You can show her now.”

  Vannah had graciously played along, letting Maria continue to think it was a prank, so that her little sister could do her feign-death act and try to make poor Maria cry.

  It had almost worked.

  Now it was Vannah’s turn.

  She had put some distance between them, backpedaling as Cal comforted Maria, and Maria swore at Cecil in Spanish.

  Now Maria turned to look at her—Vannah raised one hand, waved—

  And vanished.

  Maria’s jaw dropped.

  “?Cómo? Where is she?!”

  Savannah whistled from Maria’s right, waved, then disappeared again before Maria could turn to her.

  “?Esto es increíble!” Maria spat, spinning in a circle.

  From directly beside her, Vannah casually asked,

  “Watcha looking for?”

  Maria screamed a little scream and jumped toward Cal as Vannah popped back into existence, giggling like mad.

  “Isn’t it great?!”

  Cecil, not to be outdone, had climbed back onto the roof.

  “Maria!” she called—then, the moment Maria made eye contact, flipped off the roof, landing square on her back with a sickening thud.

  Maria screamed again.

  Quieter this time.

  Less panic.

  "?Basta, basta, mi corazón! ?Dios mío, me voy a morir! ?Mi corazón quiere largarse antes que yo!"

  “I think that means she’s done,” Cal laughed. “Y’all tend to your chores.”

  Cal put his arm around Maria’s waist and stole a flustered kiss as she continued to mumble in Spanish.

  “Come on, I’ll show you around.”

  —

  It was a nice evening.

  Savannah finished her chores, and Cecil did the ones she knew Cal wouldn’t let her leave for tomorrow.

  Maria had insisted on cooking, only to find there was no food in the house.

  Bits and bobs. Plenty of beef.

  But mostly rows of printer cartridges, sorted by their colored tops.

  “This is all you eat?!” she asked, mortified.

  “I mean, it’s healthy enough and it tastes fine,” Cal shrugged.

  “Increíble,” Maria muttered. “I now know why always you eat like you are starving!”

  The Callahans just blinked at her.

  Vannah didn’t particularly enjoy cooking.

  Cecil had favorites she rotated through and little interest in anything new.

  And Cal… ate the same way Cecil did, if he was honest.

  Maybe worse.

  Rarely deviating from a handful of options for each meal.

  Except at Maria’s restaurant.

  Where, he realized now, they did eat like they were starving.

  Because it was so good.

  Cal frowned at the printers.

  —

  Maria didn’t go home that night.

  Or the next.

  So she was still there when the seismic sensors told the household someone was coming down the trail.

  Quite a number of someones.

  Sierra sprinted out the back and began scaling the barn, eager to see them as soon as possible.

  Cal watched the little parade from the hidden cameras along the trail, a screen lowering from the ceiling the moment the sensors triggered.

  He recognized the Governor.

  And the Lieutenant Governor.

  He did not recognize their substantial military escort.