Chapter Three

Three

“It’s not on yet, is it?” Renee asked. The corded mic between her shirt and skin was cold, and she stifled a shiver.

“No.” The kid in fatigues smiled faintly as he clipped it to her collar. “You turn it on at the side here, but don’t do that until you sit down, okay?”

“Okay,” she echoed, and he turned to August, the private visibly blanching at the tall, imposing Neighbor holding his mic between two long, red fingers, clearly unsure what to do with it. August always had presence, but today, wearing his black ring uniform, it was kind of scary.

“Ah, do you require assistance, sir?” the kid asked, and August whistled a soft, breathy “No.” Fingers slow, August pulled his pleated shirt aside one row at a time to feed the mic’s tail down to his waist. His sport uniform was skintight, making what should be an easy task anything but, and when he began to wheeze in consternation, Renee smiled and turned away.

The installation’s recording studio was outfitted with the expected cameras, light towers, acoustic walls, and two raised stages. Nothing relieved the stark utilitarian look but a few fake plants that had interested August until he’d realized they were plastic. Jackson stood in the corner, his full military dress making him camera-ready. He was still angry with her about the zoo incident, if his frown was any indication. Vaughn, in jeans and pullover shirt, was clearly not going on camera. Will was with him, clearly uncomfortable in his jeans and sport coat. He, too, would be remaining on the sidelines. Noel, though…

Renee glanced at Noel placidly waiting with an unfamiliar Neighbor squinting painfully from the bright lights, both of them taking turns at sipping moist air from the canister at their feet. Noel’s outfit was amazingly detailed, the many folds making something both snug and billowy. Hidden bells tingled with a sound so pure it almost hurt to hear it. The effect was singularly beautiful, angelic even if Jackson’s sunglasses ruined the look.

The roan Neighbor with her was male judging by his height and small horns. Clearly uncomfortable, he stood beside Noel, his eyes almost clamped shut as he sucked on the moist air.

But it was August where her gaze lingered, smiling as the studio aide tried to help him fix the mic to his collar without touching him. August seemed taller in his ring uniform, the pleats far more numerous and narrow to give him free movement but probably grating on his scrapes gained at the zoo. The fabric was the same color as his curling hair and horns to make a monochromatic, severe look. His wing tape was welcomingly less obvious, and when she had asked him about wanting to wait until he healed, he said the adhesive strips made his outfit more authentic. There was Neighbor writing on his armband, repeated again on the pronged, wrist-thick, six-foot-tall staff he’d brought with him. A thin flute was tucked into one of his shirt’s pleats. It looked out of place, and she hoped he’d play it before the taping was done.

“I think that’s good,” the private said as he backed up, clearly flustered. “Ah, have Dr. Caisson turn it on for you when you’re ready.” He hesitated. “Understand?”

“I understand,” August said, and the kid fled.

“Renee? Mic will record my words?” August said softly.

“Yep.” Her gaze went to the roan Neighbor. “Who is that with Noel?”

August’s wing knuckles rose behind his head. “Master Donya. He has a surprise for you. Jackson knows.”

Eyebrows high, she turned to Jackson halfway across the studio talking to the man in charge of taping. “A surprise? What is it? Your baby pictures?”

August thought about that for a moment, his eyes nictitating briefly. “Jackson said to not tell you. That when the watchers see you like your surprise, that they will like it as well.”

“Not your baby pictures. Okay.” Renee glanced at Jackson, thinking he looked really good in that uniform, frown or not. “Hey, how much trouble did you get into for the zoo?” she asked as her gaze shifted from Jackson to Noel.

August froze, his wing hem curling. “ Chrrr… Noel almost made me go home,” he said, voice low as he leaned closer. “She said I was…selfish and insufficiently smart. Maybe she’s right.” His eyes nictitated, and Renee caught back her protest. “I made a mistake last night.”

“Me too.” Renee sighed, not knowing why she had allowed Vaughn to sway her. It had gotten August hurt and Jackson mad at her. Not to mention her stuck in her room, and she frowned at the two MPs at the outskirts waiting for Gorman…whenever he showed up.

Jackson looked up as he finished giving the MPs instructions, then ambled over to her and August. “I think we’re set,” he said as the two MPs left. “I’m bringing in Gorman now.”

“Do we have to?” Renee asked, and from beside her, August seemed to growl. “Why do we need him?”

“He will bring the conspiracists along.” Jackson’s shoulders shifted on a sigh. “He’s been reasonably cooperative.”

“If he’s been cooperative, it’s because he wants something,” she muttered.

“Agreed.” Jackson extended the back of his hand to August, and the dark red mer met it. Admiration was obvious in Jackson’s eyes as he ogled the athletic uniform. “Damn, August. That’s one hell of a frog sticker.”

August looked at the staff he’d brought. “Not a frog sticker. It’s to catch the ring.”

“Can I see it?”

Renee’s arms crept up around her middle as August handed it over and the two began discussing the intricacies of catching a three-inch stone ring on a four-inch prong. Worried, she watched the door for Gorman. Sure, the distasteful man had given the government the keys to his electronic legacy, but he’d done it so he wouldn’t get any more locked up than he already was.

Bringing Gorman in hadn’t been a unanimous decision. Yasmin, especially, had protested. Hancock believed that including him in the release would slow the panic down, that the nutcases who followed Gorman would support him even as everyone else would understandably think it was an attention-getting hoax. The outliers would be a buffer when additional evidence came to light through more trustworthy outlets, allowing a slow realization of the masses instead of the sudden panic that utilizing a nationwide TV outlet first would cause.

It was stupid to think that Gorman was entirely on board. He was working with Tayler. Renee just had to find a way to prove it—which wouldn’t be easy with her stuck in her room for everything right down to her meals.

“You look great, by the way,” Jackson said suddenly, and Renee felt herself warm, her hand dropping to the business dress that Mimi had gotten for her at the installation’s PX. Its cream color helped to dilute the military cut, and the lab coat she’d draped over it did the rest.

“Thanks. You look good, too.” She eyed the line of ribbons on his chest. “Someday you’ll have to tell me what all of these mean,” she added, then stiffened when the two MPs returned, Gorman between them.

August whistled plaintively. “Do I have to greet him?”

“No,” Renee said, frowning at the man. “I’m not going to.”

“Excuse me.” August inclined his head, then quickly moved to Noel, the jin clearly having noticed Gorman’s entrance as well. Her wing knuckles had risen over her head, turning her from an angel into an avenging warrior. All she needed was the sword. The mer with her, Master Donya, backed away, his wings clamped tight in what Renee had come to understand was fear or submission.

“Mmmm.” Jackson set August’s pike aside, his brow furrowed as August whistled and clicked, clearly trying to distract Noel. “This might be a problem,” Jackson added. “Noel told me she wanted to be here to take an accurate record back to her people, but this looks like more.”

Renee’s brow furrowed. “Can you blame her?”

But August’s words seemed to calm Noel, the tight grip on her wing hem the only indication of her foul mood as she stood between August and Donya. A surprise, Renee thought sourly. Just what we need.

Two more MPs settled beside the door at Jackson’s gesture. The station manager began to bark out requests, and everyone got twice as busy. Gorman, she decided, looked uncomfortable as he glanced around the room, hemmed in by his escorts. Someone had found him a suit and he’d shaved. The tracker on his ankle was obvious, and a mean smile curved her lips up.

“Holy shit,” Gorman said as he saw the three waiting Neighbors looking like a dilution experiment, red on one end, white on the other, and a roan in between. “Just how many of them do you have?”

“Watch the language,” Jackson said, annoyed. “We don’t have to do this with you. You’re here on sufferance.”

A whisper of Gorman’s crass attitude filtered back, and he shook his ankle to make his pant cuff settle right. “If I don’t swear, they won’t believe it’s me.”

Jackson eased forward, settling squarely before Gorman. “Are we clear what’s going to happen?”

Gorman’s attention flicked over Jackson’s shoulder and back. “We talk. You edit out the truth. I post it.” His chin rose. “It stays exclusively on my feed for six hours.”

“We can’t stop it from being shared,” Jackson said, and Gorman’s eyes narrowed. “But yes.” Jackson’s attention went to the sudden activity between the cameras and the high stools set in a small arc. “We refrain from making any statement for six hours. That’s all you get.”

“That’s enough.” Gorman grinned and bobbed his head and turned to Renee. “How’s the head? I heard you hit the bottom of the bear moat.”

She stiffened. “How’s yours? I heard you hit the butt of a rifle.”

Gorman’s smile faded, and Jackson pushed in between them. “All right. That’s enough. Get him on a chair. Turn on his mic.”

The MPs gestured for him to move, and Renee scowled as Gorman strutted to the stage. “I do not like that man,” she muttered.

“No one does,” Jackson said. “Can you play nice for fifteen minutes?”

Worried, Renee turned to him. “He knows how Han and Raphael got in that farmer’s field,” she said harshly. “Why don’t you just pump him full of truth drugs and find out? I’m the one stuck in my room for his lies. Where’s the justice in that?”

Jackson’s smile widened into something a little wicked. “Renee, you and I both know using chemical inducement is illegal,” he said loudly. “And then he wouldn’t look right in front of the camera,” he added. “If you are stuck in your room, they can’t do anything without implicating themselves. Do this for me. Okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” she said sourly. “And then later you pump him full of truth drugs.”

“One step at a time,” he said as she gestured for August to escort Noel to the high stools.

“You gave Gorman a badge?” Renee blurted as the station manager drew it from behind Gorman’s shirt and made sure it was visible to the camera.

“Renee, sit here with me,” Jackson directed as he put himself between her and Gorman. August and Noel were even farther from the distasteful man.

“You gave him a badge,” she accused as she settled herself, and Jackson’s smile widened.

“Yep. He’s part of the team,” he said in satisfaction. “And with that, I have the authority to restrict his movements.” His eyes crinkled, and Renee’s breath came in with understanding. “Same way it gives me the ability to restrict yours,” he added. “Only he’s going to have an ankle bracelet and two MPs following him around.” Jackson adjusted her mic and flicked it on. “You’re not going to make me sorry you don’t have two MPs following you around, are you? Be careful, now. You’re on tape.”

Renee glanced at August using his staff to ease himself down on the stool beside her. His scrapes were hidden under colorful tape, but it was obvious he was still hurting. “No,” she said, and Jackson nodded once before making a greeting gesture to Noel at the end, the elegant Neighbor squinting now that she’d put her sunglasses away.

“Gorman,” the station manager said loudly as his aide went down the row to make sure everyone’s mic was on. “Colonel Hancock wants to keep Mikail out of the conversation to prevent a manhunt. Here’s a list of suggested questions for you.”

Gorman took the extended paper, eyebrows high. “Seriously?”

Jackson cleared his throat, and the blogger sighed, his foot going up on the stool’s footrest as he looked it over.

“Are you okay?” Renee whispered to August, and he shrugged, clicking his wing knuckles together over his head. Will gave her a thumbs-up from off camera, ready if a translation question came up, but that still left Master Donya as a big question mark. “Hey, can we do this with less light?” she asked as she noticed him squinting.

A shadowy silhouette at the edges jerked. “Oh, God. I forgot. I am so sorry,” the station manager said, then hastened to the sound room. Renee watched him talk, then argue with someone sitting at a panel of slides and knobs, and then August sighed in relief as the lights dimmed.

Noel, too, relaxed, leaning past August to blink her nictitated eyes at her. “Thankoo, Renee,” she said slowly, and Renee smiled.

“Your pronunciation has really improved,” Renee said, and the imposing Neighbor inclined her head.

Jackson leaned in on her other side. “Yes, thank you,” he murmured. “My dress doesn’t breathe as well as my fatigues.”

The station manager came out, his fluster easy to see in the now-balanced light in the room. “Madam Noel, I hope that is better,” he said, and the white jin nodded, though it was obvious it was still too bright. “We don’t do many low-light tapings, but we’ve got the gear. Gorman, you ready?”

“I need a minute,” he said, his attention on his “suggested questions.”

A quiver rose through Renee, unstoppable and surprising. If this went well, August could go to the zoo whenever he wanted. There was so much she wanted to show him.

Noel twittered and clicked something to August. Wings drooping, he answered her before tucking his pike into a fold of his wing, almost hiding it. It looked like a practiced move, and her eyebrows rose as she noticed a protuberance on his wing bone held it in place. August focused on his flute, his fingers spaced awkwardly as he tried to play it, managing a few lonely notes.

His fingers aren’t long enough anymore, Renee suddenly realized as he whistled to Noel and placed it into that fold of his uniform, just the top third sticking up. Renee’s attention went from Donya talking to Will off camera to Noel adjusting the bells on the collar of her elaborate outfit. August’s fingers were markedly smaller. He was adapting, adapting to the point where he couldn’t play the clearly Nextdoor-manufactured flute.

“Do you want the one you made in quarantine?” she whispered, and August slumped.

“No. It’s fine,” he said. “If I make mistakes, it will make humans less afraid.” Eyes unnictitated, he leaned to look past Renee and Jackson to Gorman. “Humans are tumbled and mixed up.”

“Tell me about it,” Renee said with a sigh. The two MPs at the door had come in, making a total of four. It would have made her nervous, but she was sure that almost everyone in the room had minored in production right after their major in kicking ass.

“You ready, Gorman?” Jackson said tiredly. “I’ve other things to do today.”

Gorman wadded up the paper and tossed it to the floor out of the camera’s sight. “Shoot.”

Jackson leaned forward to look past Renee and August. “Madam Noel? August?”

August clicked, and Noel nodded, hiding her air canister behind a fold of her wing.

“Great!” The station manager came front and center. “Gorman, we’re going to start close in on you, and move out as you introduce everyone. Good?”

“Swell,” he muttered, his frown worrying Renee.

“And…go,” the manager prompted.

But Gorman visibly brightened as the camera’s light lit. His expression was still bitterly annoyed, but it was Gorman’s usual smile, and his patrons would know it was him and that he was not under too much duress. Even so, Renee’s gut tightened in worry.

“Gorman here,” the man said, shifting his voice deeper and taking care to pronounce his words. “I’m at an undisclosed military installation in North America. If you saw my last show, you’ll know I found a living, breathing…I don’t know what to call them, actually.” He hesitated, eyebrow raised mockingly. “But you know who I mean. I also found our very own national government, right at the center of the cover-up.”

“Okay…” Jackson sighed. “Stop right there.”

Renee shifted uneasily at the general exhalation of breath and muttered complaints behind the camera.

Gorman squinted at Jackson. “You want me to be Tom Brokaw? Yeah, that will convince them.” He snickered, voice dropping as he added in a creditable mimicry, “Aliens have landed in Middle America. Film at eleven.”

Jackson rubbed at his forehead. “Are we still taping?”

“Pixels are free. Keep going,” the manager said. “We’ll edit it out.”

Jackson turned to Gorman. “Watch it. We don’t need you that bad.”

“Looks to me as if you do.” Gorman turned to the camera and tugged his ill-fitting suit straight. He hesitated, then started again. “It’s true, and I brought it to you first despite the removed videos and blocked content. The creatures that appeared last July following the eclipse across our nation are real. I’m sitting beside two of them. Don’t believe me? I don’t blame you. I hardly believe it myself.”

“Maybe you should introduce us, Gorman,” Jackson said dryly.

“Sure.” Gorman shifted as the camera pulled back. “Let’s go down the proverbial couch and meet the people behind the lies. First is Major Jackson, who organized their capture and is now my…host? Beside him is Dr. Caisson, and if we all die of a new virus, you can blame her.”

“Gorman,” Jackson warned as Renee tried to smile.

“Beside Dr. Caisson is August, who, according to the notes I was given, is an environment impact specialist when he’s not gallivanting from world to world.”

“Good morning, Gorman,” August said, and Noel made an annoyed-sounding click.

“Beside August is the boss of this…”

Don’t say “invasion,” Renee thought as Jackson tensed.

“…interplanetary meeting,” Gorman finished, smile obviously fake as Jackson eased back down. “Noel.”

“Gooo…mooring, Gorman,” Noel said slowly, a faint flush rising on her pale wings.

“Her name is Madam Noel,” August corrected immediately. “I will translate for her,” he said, adding, “She wishes you strong updrafts to good deeds,” when Noel whistled and nodded to Gorman.

“Intros done.” Gorman took a breath, his eyes flicking to the crumpled suggestions on the floor. “Who the hell are you?”

Jackson took a breath, but August was faster. “We are Neighbors,” August said. “We are not from hell, but Nextdoor. We’ve come to Earth wishing a deeper connection, not harm.”

Close enough, Renee thought, hoping Noel didn’t try to smile. It was atrocious.

Gorman arched his eyebrows. “Right,” he said dryly. “And why are you really here?”

Jackson shifted on his stool, cutting August off with a Neighbor gesture of “wait” that Renee didn’t realize he knew. “As you say correctly, Gorman, over two dozen Neighbors arrived during the eclipse, an entrance that we did try to cover up until we knew their intentions. I can’t stress enough that it wasn’t the eclipse that opened the door between our worlds. It was our own combined psychic upwelling caused from a shared experience running from one end of our country to the next that did it. It was a natural event, and there’s good evidence in our literature and our biology that the Neighbors have been here before. This is not an isolated incident. Merely the latest one that we remember.”

“Okay, I agree the literature sanctions your previous visits,” Gorman said as he leaned forward, an elbow on a knee for support. “Seeing as you look like demons and angels. But biologically? I’m not buying it.”

Renee’s expression fixed as she looked at August and Noel, deciding that he was right, especially in their current attire. Crap on a cracker, they do…

“Um, I can answer that,” she said, quashing a minor freak-out when the camera aimed at her lit up. “Until recently, we’ve had the Neighbors in a strict quarantine undergoing a multitude of tests from their gut flora to their DNA. If anyone should be concerned about contamination, it’s them. We’ve already been exposed to everything they have, from smallpox to the common cold.”

Gorman took a breath. “I see.” He hesitated, arching an eyebrow at his listeners. “I feel so much better having your word on that.”

Jackson cleared his throat. “If we weren’t sure, you’d be in quarantine for coming in contact with them, Gorman,” he said tightly. “The world’s population is in no danger. Dr. Caisson’s findings have been verified in-house, by WHO, and several independent labs both here and abroad.”

“Great.” Gorman put his foot on the rest, raising his knee in an “I’m graduating” pose. “Which doesn’t explain why you are here.”

His statement hung for a moment, the tension rising. There were so many reasons, but none of them sounded good when you blurted them out.

“We are here for the same reason humans go to your moon,” August said, and from the shadows, a soft sound of disbelief whispered out.

“No way.” Gorman’s foot slipped down, and the MPs tensed. “I’m not buying into this anymore. There’s no way you know we went to the moon unless you’re really humans with some major work done. This is a pig-in-dress party.”

I don’t even know what that means and it still sounds ugly, Renee thought, as August’s eyes nictitated in anger. “Humans going to your moon is on holo,” August said, wings shifting. “Renee showed me on her phone.” He hesitated, turning to Renee. “He thinks I’m lying?”

Renee leaned forward. “They have their own version of the internet, Gorman. Using ours has been a step down for them.”

Jackson sighed, and she flushed, realizing that their superior technology might be viewed as a threat. “Can we move on?” Jackson prompted, and Will stifled a chuckle. “I’d like to hear August’s answer.”

“We didn’t go to our moons,” August said. “But we have the portal, and we explore. We search to know if we are alone.” August glanced at Noel, and she made a click of support. “Once, we knew many worlds,” he said, gesturing widely. “Many…people. Now we know only one. The people Nextdoor are happy to find Earth. To not be alone is good.”

Gorman’s expression stiffened. “They know about us?” he blurted, and Jackson nodded. “An entire world of you knows about us? My God, you are fools.”

Jackson grimaced. “Can you edit that last out?” he said, getting a distant “Got it!” back.

From the end of the row, Noel twittered and whistled, and August nodded.

“Neighbors…happy,” Noel said slowly. “Errth hoth. Pain of eyes. Pain of…lungs, but happy not alone.”

“Ah, can I interject something here?” Jackson said as Gorman stared, processing it. “August was in the first group of Neighbors to cross. He works for the portal authority Nextdoor. Madam Noel is the managing CEO and the one who oiled the gears and found the backing to make this possible. We owe her a great debt for her tenacity and belief in her people’s abilities.”

Noel clicked and whistled, clearly able to follow the conversation if not easily partake.

August clicked and turned to the camera. “Madam Noel says that the question of sending her people through portal was hard to make. We didn’t know if the portal opened because of an eclipse or Earth disaster. Many such world greetings in the past made the risk a good one. The first mers and jins through were…brave?”

Renee nodded, and August added, “Especially those who did not come home.”

“Her eyes are like lizard eyes,” Gorman said, the comment completely at odds with what Noel was trying to say. It struck Renee like a slap, pissing her off. Wasn’t he even listening to the answers to his own questions?

“Neighbors have built-in sunglasses,” Renee said, annoyed. “It’s called a nictitating membrane. August has gotten used to our light and doesn’t use his much unless he’s outside.” She hesitated. “You want to show them?” she asked August, and when he nodded, she beckoned to the camera. “Can we get a close-up as he closes them?”

Gorman fidgeted as August became the center of attention, closing and opening his second eyelids several times.

“That would be handy,” Jackson said with just the right amount of envy, and Renee’s breath eased out.

“I bet you can see really well in the dark,” Gorman said to bring the camera back to him. “Can you fly with those wings of yours, or are they only decorative?”

“Decorative?” August questioned.

From the shadows Will said, “Pretty for no use other than to look pretty.”

August smiled, getting it perfect, and Renee relaxed even more. “Wings are not decorative. I can fly at home,” he said, wings high. “On Earth, I can fly in strong wind, maybe. You want to see?”

Gorman hesitated, leaning back on his stool. “Yes,” he finally said, a hint of fear in him. “I want to see.”

Renee frowned at the insult to August’s truncated speech, but August seemed okay with it as he slipped from the stool and handed Renee his pike. There was a soft sound of awe from the camera crew as the dark red mer carefully extended his wings, and then, after assuring himself nothing was in the way, pushed down once, hard enough to make his feet lift from the floor. More swearing came from the shadows, and Renee smiled as she pulled the hair from her mouth. He put out an impressive force even with the bandages limiting his movement.

Gorman’s face went white. “Why are you here?” he said, having slipped off his stool to put it between them.

August carefully folded his wings politely against his back and hid the pike within them again. “To share thoughts. Trade goods.”

“Yeah?” Gorman wouldn’t get back on his stool, and a wrinkle of warning creased Jackson’s brow. “That looks like a military uniform,” he added, gaze on the tip of the pike showing. “You’ve got an internet, right? I bet all your technology is better than ours.”

Dangerous, Renee thought, and Jackson cleared his throat.

“I am wearing a uniform, yes.” August rolled his shoulders. “Required to play, chrrr , sports. I played rings as a child,” he added, leaning to hold a hand at his knee. “I played rings when in school learning stresses on ecosystem. I haven’t played for a long time, but the uniform still fit.” His smile was a little slow, but it worked as a few technicians chuckled in understanding.

“Sit down, Gorman,” Jackson muttered, then added, “We have footage of that, right? Can we put that in here?”

“Ring footage, mark!” the station manager called. “August, can you tell us something about the game that we can dub in over it?”

August nodded. “Rings is hard on wings,” he offered. “There are many special movements. Risky. One game I broke my wing when throwing a player with the ring over the line.” He grinned. “Not against the rules, but close. Now I play the flute and make holo records of Earth flowers. Rings are for the young.”

Gorman snickered to find his courage, but Renee thought he still looked pale as he settled again on his stool. “You collect pictures of flowers?” he asked in disbelief.

“Nextdoor has many leaves in the holo record,” August said. “Flowers are better.”

“Well, you’re just an all-around nice guy, aren’t you,” Gorman said snidely, and Renee stared at him.

“Can we take that out,” Jackson said, and the station manager called a preoccupied “Mark!”

Gorman smirked, not upset. “Okay, so, August, you’re what we’d call male. Noel is female. Is that why one looks like a demon and the other an angel?” Jackson made a noise of annoyance, and Gorman arched his eyebrows in challenge. “Are you telling me they don’t look like angels and demons? He’s even got a pitchfork.”

Renee winced. He did. Noel, in her extra finery and bells, white billowing about her feet, was very close to a biblical version of an angel, and August…

“We are the same,” August said. “I’m a mer. A male. Madam Noel is a jin, or female. Red and white shading come from our…diet.”

“Dr. Caisson, you want to take this one?” Jackson suggested, and she stiffened.

“Um, sure. Hair and skin color is not an indication of gender,” she said, wondering why Jackson had thought the “Doctor” attached to her name made her the best choice for this. “Males are generally taller and have vestigial horns that they engrave about the time of sexual maturity. Female Neighbors like to decorate their wings with tattoos about the same time as a sign of independence and maturity. The range of color is caused by their diet, like we see in flamingos. It was one of the first surprises we got when we were getting to know them. Madam Noel prefers a diet low in or absent of plant protein, while August prefers a great deal more. The color shift is more pronounced the longer the diet is maintained, and most Neighbors eat a large variety and are a middling roan.”

Noel twittered, and August’s wings tightened about himself. “Horns are not vestigial,” he said softly, and someone chuckled from the dark. “Madam Noel would like to say that jins decorate their wings and mers engrave their horns to show…pride? Individuality?” August hesitated until Will gestured yes from the dark. “Noel and I chose to show less individuality. It’s easier in portal building to blend in.”

Jackson bobbed his head. “Can we insert a few images of Neighbors with the tattoos and rings? The Neighbor woman, ah, jin at the portal desk yesterday was absolutely stunning.”

Noel made a twittering click, and August nodded. “Ruriel has many tattoos. Kane has traditional horn engravings.”

Gorman frowned. “Yeah. It’s harder to become CEO when you have purple hair and a nose ring. August, what were you doing in the zoo?”

“Careful, Gorman,” Jackson intoned, but Renee thought it telling that he called August by his name. He was identifying them as people, and that was the entire point of this.

August, though, was clearly distressed, and his eyes briefly nictitated. “That was not Renee’s fault,” he said, and Jackson made a small noise deep in his throat. “I like Earth animals. The zoo was closed. I thought it safe. I didn’t know you would be there,” he added, looking at Gorman. “The quarantine was ended, and I wanted to see more than a tree in the courtyard.”

“Yeah, well, I was there,” Gorman said. “Next question. What did your people think about two of you being dissected by that farmer? Are you mad, or do you just not care?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Jackson called out as Renee stiffened and Noel’s wing knuckles rose high over her head. “All right,” the major said as he held out a hand to August and Noel, both of them clearly upset. “That’s enough. We’re done here.”

“No, I will answer. It’s okay.” August’s wings drooped. “Han and Raphael were slung to the sun. Madam Noel told their family and the world what happened. Many, many Neighbors are sad, but that is small compared to the possible big.”

“Yeah, a couple of lives for an entire world at your feet isn’t much,” Gorman said, and both Renee and Jackson turned to him. From the shadows, someone called Gorman an ass. It was soft, but she was sure it landed on tape.

“Gorman…” Jackson warned. “You need to start thinking about the sounds coming out of your mouth.”

But then Jackson settled back on his stool, hiding his anger with a somewhat disturbing ease. “Part of the reason we’re having this conversation today is to prevent any other such tragedies and misunderstandings such as what happened in that farmer’s field,” Jackson said to the camera. “If I may, we are looking for volunteers to donate their bodies to Nextdoor science upon their natural death. The government has agreed to pay for an inclusive genetic screening and a genealogical ancestry trace with every signed agreement, which of course the volunteer will have immediate access to before their eventual, natural, and hopefully distant death. We’re taking the first thousand applicants that meet a range of ages and ancestry.”

At the end of the row, Noel inclined her head, wing knuckles high in thanks. Clearly this had been discussed in advance, and even if Hancock had disagreed, it was now going to happen.

“You’re kidding me,” Gorman said. “You’re going to give them access to our dead?”

“I am,” Jackson said pleasantly, at odds with his clenched hands just outside the camera’s range. “Two of their people were unfortunately killed and dissected, left in a field to hide the blame of responsibility. The least we can do beyond returning them to their families with our apologies is to offer the Neighbors a look at our biology as well.”

“Yeah.” Gorman brought his knee up again. “That will probably cut down on the abductions.”

“Mark!” the station manager shouted, and Gorman chuckled. He had known his words wouldn’t make it through production. This was for his ego.

“August?” Jackson turned to look past Renee. “You enjoy the diversity of Earth. I understand you brought one of your Nextdoor animals to show us.”

Renee jerked, her eyes following August’s to the Neighbor off camera. Oh, God. Has he brought a pixy?

August smiled, getting it perfect. “Yes. We wanted to show the Earth that we come with only good things. Master Donya?” He beckoned to the darkness, and the roan mer came forward as August rose from his stool to meet him.

“Does it bite?” Gorman said, but Renee had slid off her stool as well, sure it was nothing that would hurt her. Not if Jackson was smiling.

“Basilisk bites only food,” August said, and Renee’s lips parted.

“You brought one of your winged snakes?” she said, delighted. “You said they were too precious to risk.” Not to mention the health risk hadn’t been assessed.

“Noel wants to show that Neighbors care for animals like humans do,” August said as Donya took a fold of cloth from his ribbon shirt. “Neighbors have…empathy for others.”

Gorman recoiled. “You brought a snake?”

“It’s not a snake.” Renee pushed forward, the cameras forgotten in her zeal. It was a new animal. Something she’d never seen. Suddenly she felt like August at the zoo.

“Renee, can you…” Jackson prompted, and she shifted so the camera could see as well as Donya unfolded the cloth and a pencil-thick snake uncurled and blinked up at them.

“Oh my God. It is a snake,” Gorman exclaimed.

“No, it isn’t.” Renee reached for the snake, flushed, then pulled her hand back. “He’s got wings.” Enraptured, she looked at the handler. “He’s beautiful. August, tell him I said he is beautiful.”

“I will,” August said, and she smiled, even as she saw Jackson’s plotting. Her enchantment couldn’t be faked. He’d been right not to tell her.

“Can you show me his wings?” she asked plaintively, and August whistle-clicked.

Clucking and clicking, Donya gently handled the snake, dripping him from finger to finger until the basilisk opened his wings for balance. Bright red and gold, they caught the dim light, reflecting it like a pair of eyes.

“Oh, he’s beautiful,” she said again, wistfully.

“You want to hold him?” August asked.

“Can I?”

“Camera, Renee,” Jackson reminded her, and she turned, awkwardly holding out her hand until the little snake, no more than a foot long, spilled coolly into her fingers. He twined and coiled, and then, as if only now noticing who was holding him, he reared back, eyeing her as he flared his wings to look bigger.

“You are so beautiful,” she crooned, spooning him from hand to hand until he settled in a cool puddle in her palm.

Donya whistled and clicked, hovering close but not reaching for him.

“Donya says he’s a young animal. He still sleeps at his home nest, but he will find a new home soon. He’s a pet, and like a cat, he will keep home free of miceandrat.”

Gorman peered over Jackson’s shoulder, his lip curled in disgust. “You have mice and rats?” he said, and Renee cupped her hands protectively about the snake.

“Sorry.” August smiled. “Not miceandrat. Piscy. Small. Winged. Eats spilled food or stored meals.”

“So it’s like a weird cat,” Gorman said, clearly not liking having lost the spotlight to a snake. Noel, too, seemed uninterested, but honestly, this one thing might endear the Neighbors to the general population when fear would drive them away. “Does everything on your world have wings?” Gorman grumped.

“No,” August said, and Renee’s shoulders rose when Master Donya reached for the basilisk. Reluctantly, Renee spilled the winged snake into the mer’s hand, shooting Jackson a rueful grin. He had known.

“Neighbors keep pets, just like us,” Jackson said, clearly satisfied, and August nodded.

“Neighbors like animals,” August said. “We are kind to them. Pets are rare.”

Gorman snorted, making August’s last word into a threat somehow.

Jackson took a breath to say something, but they all jumped when Donya made a sharp whistle of alarm. Hands patting, he searched himself and the fold of cloth, wing knuckles rising as his distress grew.

“What’s wrong?” she whispered, then started when her hand, reaching to rub out a tickle at her neck, touched the cool, smooth feel of a snake. “Ah, August?” she warbled, eyes widening as she wound the snake on her fingers and brought him down. “He snapped to me?” she added, shocked. “They can snap?”

Donya’s wings collapsed in relief, but his reach for the basilisk jerked back when the little snake hissed at him, wings opening to beat the air before he settled back down.

“Hold up!” Gorman pushed forward, blocking the camera. “That snake snapped?”

Renee’s eyes jerked to Jackson’s, seeing his satisfaction. They’d agreed to not bring up the translocating abilities, and Gorman clearly knew about snapping. The word had spilled off his tongue too easily to not be familiar. Someone had been feeding him information all right.

Jackson searched the dark for the station manager. “Okay, I think we have enough,” he said loudly.

“That’s a wrap!” the station manager shouted. “Get everything on my desk. Susan, I want to see that ring game footage first.”

Renee backed up as the shadowed room was suddenly full of motion and sound. Donya was tight to her, his long-fingered hand reaching even as he dared not take the snake away. Yep, Gorman was a nasty idiot of a man, but she had a completely new animal puddled around her fingers. “August, what’s his name?”

August turned from his conversation with Noel. “He’s not named yet. Too young.”

She nodded, beaming when Will came forward to see. “Look, Will. Have you seen anything more beautiful?”

Will’s gaze was fixed on the basilisk, his eyes squinting even as he reached out a single finger in greeting. “I generally don’t like snakes,” he said, halting his motion when the snake flicked an overly long, sinuous tongue at him, little gill-like flaps by his head vibrating in warning. “But I could make an exception for a winged one.”

“I think he’s gorgeous.” Renee beamed as Donya inched closer, clearly wanting his snake back. “Vaughn? Do you want to see?”

“He left when they started taping,” Will said, hands in his pockets. “Hey, good show. I’m going to check on Vaughn. He looked a little ill.”

“Sure.”

Will put a hand on her shoulder in farewell, eyeing the snake as the reptile bobbed his head at Donya. The Neighbor was clearly nervous, and as Will strode out of the studio, she relented, pouring the snake back into Donya’s hand. He was ready with a little treat, distracting the animal until he settled and was tucked safely back in a fold of cloth.

Renee watched with disappointment, surprised when Donya clicked and made a half bow of thanks to her. Flustered, she returned the gesture, warming when she realized Noel was watching the entire exchange. The angelic-looking jin was standing alone with her canister of moist air, sunglasses on again as she studied Gorman being led away between the four MPs.

“That was so cool,” Renee said, breathing a sigh of relief when the door shut behind Gorman. “August, I’m beginning to realize why you risked everything to go to the zoo.” She glanced over the room for Jackson. “We’ll hit the petting zoo next time,” she whispered. “I bet you’d love a goat. They are so sweet.”

August stood beside Donya, his wing hem curling in consternation. “Small cow?” he asked.

“No, nothing like a cow. I’ll show you some videos at lunch if you have the time to come to my room and eat.” She leaned to see around August. “Jackson, do I have to go back to my room right away, or can I have lunch at the cafeteria?”

“Room,” Jackson said absently, his gaze on the production manager now approaching with quick steps. “Definitely room. We need your mic…”

“God, you are worse than my mom was,” Renee griped as she fiddled with her mic, turning it off before pulling it through her shirt and handing it over. August, though, was slow, handing his pike to Renee before dropping his head down to work his mic past each fold of the tight ribbon shirt. Seeing Jackson try to help him, she was again struck by how unalike and yet similar they both were, August with his stubby horns and his snug ring uniform, and Jackson in his military dress and unusually clean-shaven face.

An odd feeling pulled through her as she waited, as if she was breathing in sparkles and moonbeams, and then she started at a sudden, heavy cool weight about her neck. Stiffening, she raised a hand, emotion plinking through her when her fingertips touched the smooth snake skin.

“You’re back?” she said, delighted as she drew the basilisk from around her neck and the little snake flicked his tongue, clearly annoyed until she allowed him to wrap around her wrist and coil in her fingers. “Master Donya?”

August’s wings drooped and Donya touched his pocket, his eyes widening when Noel made a tired-sounding whistle. Jackson, though, was grinning, clearly thinking it funny.

“August, tell him I’m sorry.” Renee took a step forward, sighing in regret as she unwound the snake and spilled him into Donya’s grip. The anxious Neighbor clicked and whistled, clearly admonishing the little snake now flapping his wings in defiance, but the mer went silent when their fingers touched, his wide eyes unnictitating for a brief moment to stare at her hands. Renee flushed and hid them, not knowing why.

August’s head was down as he worked his mic free and handed it to Jackson. “Donya says this is not your fault,” August said as Donya wrapped the snake up and tucked him away again. “Basilisk likes you because you’re warmer than Neighbors.”

“A degree or two is all.” Renee’s gaze went to Jackson struggling to keep the mics from tangling as they hung from his hands.

“Enough of a difference to matter.” August smiled. “Donya is not his usual keeper. He belongs to a Pier, but Noel won’t let a Pier come to this side of portal. Heath concerns.”

“Oh.” Renee looked longingly at the pocket where the snake lay. “Well, thank you. It was the best part of the interview. How is it he can snap without a spark?”

“He borrowed the energy,” August said as Jackson continued to tangle the mics. “He doesn’t have his own. Piers, either, but there are nearly a hundred mers and jins here. It’s easy. Nextdoor there are not so many creation sparks in one spot, so it’s harder. He won’t snap unless afraid.”

“Piers don’t have sparks, huh?” Renee watched the station manager come forward to help Jackson with the mics, annoyance pinching his brow.

“Maybe the basilisk likes you because you don’t have a spark, either,” August said, cracking his knuckles in mirth as the manager pointedly took the cords away from Jackson and walked off.

“Phew, that shouldn’t have been that hard,” Jackson said, flustered. “August, Madam Noel.” He smiled at Donya. “Master Donya. Thank you for your time today. I’d like to invite you to join us for lunch at the officers’ table.”

“Sounds good to me,” Renee said, smile faltering when Jackson shook his head.

“Sorry, Renee, but you are grounded.”

“Jackson…” she complained, but he was beckoning one of the technicians forward. Noel, too, was twittering and whistling, making August’s wings curl in tight around himself.

“ Chrrr , Donya wishes to take the basilisk home. Noel would like to try blueberries and see a holo of a goat, but would appreciate changing clothes first,” August said. “She wants to discuss me going home to do a holo circuit, but I will tell her over lunch that I’m staying,” he added, his toes gripping his wing hem in worry.

“Jackson, you have to let me go,” Renee tried again. “I have to talk to Noel, too. August can’t leave. He’s half my lab.”

“All the more reason for me to say no.” Jackson’s lips quirked. “You are not starting an interworld war over staffing. If August wants to stay, he’ll have to fight that battle on his own. Room. Now. Let’s go.”

“I can find my own room,” Renee grumped.

“I’m sure you can,” Jackson said, winking at August. “But you have a tendency to stray, and this way, you will have an alibi if Gorman tries to implicate you in something else.”

“August?” Renee turned to the mer, thinking he looked amazing in his ring uniform as she raised her hand to fist-bump his wing knuckle. “You’re not going to leave, are you?”

August met her fist with a soft tap, then took her hands in his. “No.” Eyes nictitated, he looked at Noel chatting with Master Donya holding the basilisk under the hot lights. “I will explain.” His hands fell from hers. “See you later.”

“Later, August,” Jackson said, casually knocking his fist into August’s proffered wing knuckle. “Renee…” he drawled, gesturing to the door. “Let’s move. I have a lunch meeting.”

“You are a real jerk, you know that?” Renee made a last, sour wave to August, then gave Noel and Donya a more formal, distant gesture of farewell, which they both returned.

“I’m not the one sneaking top-secret aliens off installation,” Jackson said, gesturing at the door. “You’re lucky you’re in your room and not next to Gorman.”

“Yeah?” She headed for the door, not happy. “August isn’t in embassy jail.”

“And that’s why Noel is requesting he leave to do a holo circuit?” Jackson lurched to get the door for her, and she went into the hall, more worried yet. August could handle himself. They wouldn’t force him to leave, would they? Could they? she wondered, deciding that if they could sling two silk-draped bodies home, they could probably do the same for a stubborn mer.

“Ah, Jackson…”

“No,” he said, and she lurched to keep up with his suddenly fast pace. “How about that winged snake, huh? He was cool. A basilisk…”

She grimaced, the thumps of her heels hitting the floor going all the way up her spine. “I loved him. Thank you. It was wonderful. Is there anything you can do to keep August here? It was my fault, not his.”

Jackson glanced at her as they walked. “No. Let this go. It was a bad choice, on both your parts. Frankly I’m surprised they even let him do the interview before yanking him home. What were you thinking?”

Her shoulders slumped. “I don’t know,” she whispered, remembering sitting on the bleachers with Vaughn and deciding it was a good idea when it clearly wasn’t. Instead of showing August the beauty of her world, she had landed herself under suspicion for working with Gorman, and August was in danger of being sent home.

It couldn’t be worse even if someone had planned it.