“Well, I happen to think you’ve turned out just fine, even if you are an old workhorse,” Maeve said.

  “Thanks, kid.” His tone turned serious. “But I’m not actually calling just to needle you about your social life.”

  Maeve tensed, but she tried to keep her voice unaffected. “Okay. What’s up?”

  “I’m going to need you to give a video conference on Alvie—his abilities, your findings. Basically, I need you to sum up everything you know about him in about fifteen minutes.”

  Maeve sputtered. “Fifteen minutes? You can’t possibly be serious.”

  “I am, and the conference is scheduled for tomorrow at 3.”

  “3 a.m.?” Maeve asked hopefully.

  John laughed. “I’m afraid not. 3 p.m.”

  Maeve groaned. Working with Alvie meant her days were completely reversed from most people’s. She slept while they were enjoying their lives, and she was wide awake when they were sleeping. A 3 p.m. meeting was the middle of her night.

  She sighed but didn’t complain. It would get her nowhere. “Who is the presentation for? And what’s the rush?”

  “I’m afraid I can’t answer either of those questions.”

  Maeve sighed, knowing that was all the information she was going to get. But it didn’t make it easier to swallow. She’d grown up around the base and all of its rules. Her mother joked that ‘need to know’ was the first phrase Maeve had ever uttered. Once Maeve had received her top secret clearance, though, she thought that meant she would have the answers to some of her questions. But she’d soon realized it only meant she’d have more to wonder about.

  She glanced over to where Alvie had switched from the puppy to a computer coding program she’d introduced him to last week. Like everything else, he’d picked it up quickly, the logic clear to him. She frowned. Why would someone be asking about Alvie now? She had read people into Alvie’s program every once in a while, but usually she knew who she was presenting to. Not knowing was a first. Did it have anything to do with the increased security at the base over the last few months?

  “Maeve?” John asked.

  Maeve pulled herself back to the conversation. “Right, just trying to re-work my schedule in my head.”

  She could hear the smile in John’s voice. “Oh, come on, you could rattle off about Alvie all day long without any prep. You’ll do fine.”

  “True, but confining that rattling off to only fifteen minutes is going to be the tough part.”

  John chuckled. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out. So tell me what’s been happening in your life.”

  Maeve chatted with John for the next few minutes about her weekend and his. But the presentation and what she needed to pull together was a specter looming in the back of her mind.

  After they had said their good-byes and she had disconnected the call, Alvie walked over and sat next to her, looking up at her with his big eyes. She took his hand. “So apparently someone wants to know all about you.”

  Alvie tilted his head.

  “It’s okay. I have eight hours to pull together all the research that’s been conducted on you over the last twenty-five years and synthesize it into a coherent presentation. Then power nap, and get back here. Completely doable.”

  Alvie looked at her, and even without sclera, she could read the concern in his eyes.

  She forced a smile to her face. “It’s okay, really. How about we go do a puzzle?”

  Alvie nodded before hopping off the couch and heading for the shelves with the puzzles. Even before he reached it, she knew which one he would pick out—the thousand-piece puzzle filled with puppies. He always picked the same one.

  I really need to figure out how to get him a puppy. Maybe I can call it an inter-species communication project.

  But that would have to wait, because someone new wanted to know about Alvie. It always made her nervous when someone else expressed an interest. Alvie was not human. And she knew someone could view him as a threat if they didn’t understand who he was.

  Alvie’s existence was a closely kept secret. As far as Maeve knew, no more than two dozen people knew he even existed. And now someone new was being read in. At the exact same time that Alvie was showing signs of unpredictability for the first time in his life.

  Maeve swallowed as she walked toward him.

  Please let this be nothing.

  Chapter Twelve

  Maeve flipped through her notes, keeping one eye on Alvie, who was playing a computer game. The computer was not attached to the internet, by the base’s command. He looked content. Maeve glanced back at the results from the blood test this morning. All his neurotransmitter levels were still low, just as they had been for months.

  Yet another thing to be worried about. Alvie was allowed certain privileges because his behavior was so predictable. Unpredictability tended to make the higher ups nervous.

  Alvie stopped the computer game and turned away. The screen showed the game wasn’t done.

  “Alvie? Everything okay?”

  He just looked at her without moving.

  “Alvie?”

  The number 872-AR flashed through her mind. Maeve jolted back.

  What the hell was that?

  She stared at Alvie, her heart beginning to pound. “Did you do that?”

  Alvie just looked at her. Maeve had theorized that Alvie could communicate telepathically even though it had never happened before. She’d never even hinted at the possibility. He had no voice box, so vocal communication wasn’t possible, but his race had to communicate somehow. She’d ruled out pheromones because he didn’t have them, which left touch or some kind of telepathic ability. He was able to communicate his emotions that way but this was the first time he’d ever shared specific information.

  872-AR

  Maeve’s heart pounded harder. “Alvie, was that you?”

  He nodded his head, and she felt her legs grow weak. “What are you trying to tell me?”

  The door outside the lab opened and Chris walked in carrying three lunch trays. Alvie turned away from Maeve and hopped off his chair. He hustled over to the table and quickly started scooping the puzzle back into the box. But Maeve didn’t move. She just sat where she was, her heart still pounding. What had that been?

  The only time she had seen that kind of notation was in reference to a building. Room 872 in the archives building. Why would Alvie’s first communication involve that place? And besides, how would he even know about that building? It’s not like he’d been given a tour of the base at any point.

  “Hey, want to get the door?” Chris asked from the other side of the glass wall.

  “Uh, yeah, sorry.” Maeve got awkwardly to her feet, pushing aside her reports, and walked over to the control pad. With a whoosh of air, it slid open.

  Chris walked in with a grin. “Lunch is served.”

  He placed the trays on the table where Alvie was finishing up putting the puzzle away.

  “Let me help you, bud.” Chris slid a long line of pieces into the box, then held the box for Alvie to do the same.

  Even though Maeve was still trying to figure out what had just happened with the numbers, she couldn’t help but marvel at Alvie’s interactions with Chris. There’d been other individuals who had interacted with Alvie in the past but none of them had the rapport with Alvie that Chris had. To Maeve it was almost like a big brother little brother relationship.

  Chris walked the puzzle over to the shelves as Alvie climbed into his chair. Chris slid a tray in front of him, taking off the lid. “Bon appétit, my friend.”

  He glanced over at Maeve. “You joining us, Doc?”

  “Um, yeah. Sorry. A little lost there.”

  “You’re going to do great with the presentation. Just show them that big brain of yours.”

  Maeve forced herself to focus on the food in front of her. “I’m sure you’re right. The presentation’s just distracting me.”

  “Well, if you need to work, Alvie and I can hang out. We’re only halfway through Season 3 of Chuck. Right, buddy?”

  Alvie nodded his head with a smile, and Maeve’s heart melted a little. She forced a smile to her face. “Great. Thanks.” She watched Alvie, but he simply dug into his lunch as if nothing had happened. But Maeve couldn’t help but wonder and worry.

  872-AR. Why did you show me that? And how did you do it?

  Chapter Thirteen

  Maeve spent the rest of the night working on the presentation and on trying to keep her fears from Alvie. He was incredibly sensitive to other people’s moods. In fact, his ability to read people’s emotional states had increased dramatically in the last year. Maeve wondered if he wasn’t actually developing into an empath—an individual with the ability to feel and even influence others’ emotions. She hadn’t mentioned anything about her suspicions in her notes because she knew any indication that Alvie could influence others was going to scare the hell out of people.

  Just like it scared her—although not for the same reasons. Maeve trusted Alvie. There was no unkindness in him. But if he developed telepathic abilities, even empathetic abilities, and the military found out, she knew their first question would be about how to weaponize it.

  But it was hours now since 872-AR had flashed through her mind, and she was beginning to wonder if she had just made it up. Alvie was his normal self, curled up next to Chris, watching TV.

  Maybe I’m the one losing it.

  Maeve blew out a breath, staring at her computer screen. She had finally determined the organization of her presentation and filled in the critical information she thought would be best. But now, she’d had enough. Closing her laptop, she pushed it off her lap. “Okay, that’s it. I need a break.”

  Chris looked up from where he and Alvie sat on the couch. “About damn time. We’ve been waiting for you. I’ll go let them know.” He disappeared out of the room.

  Maeve turned to Alvie. “Sorry—big presentation tomorrow. But I didn’t forget. I never would.” She held out her hand to him. “Come on. Let’s get some air.”

  Alvie scrambled off the couch and ran over to her, a smile on his face as he took her hand.

  They stepped out into the control room. Chris gave her a nod. “We’re ready.”

  He opened the door to the hallway and Maeve stepped out. She could feel Alvie’s excitement.

  The hall was empty, but Maeve knew it wasn’t just the hall—it was the entire floor. Ahead, the elevator stood open, waiting for them.

  They stepped in and Chris hit the button for the roof. The elevator rose quickly and stopped softly at the roof.

  Chris stepped out first and nodded at the guard there. He looked back at Maeve and Alvie with a smile. “All clear.”

  Maeve stepped out and Alvie pulled away, staring up at the sky. Maeve watched him for a moment before settling back against the wall, crossing her feet at her ankles. She knew from experience she’d be here a while.

  Her mom had managed to get permission years ago to bring Alvie out here. Maeve tried to bring him up here once a month, but not any more than that. She didn’t want to push it. After all, it took a lot of coordination and resources to make this happen. Each time they came out here security went on high alert to the extent that even F-14s were placed on standby. At the slightest hint of a problem, she and Alvie would be whisked back inside and these outings would be finished.

  But so far, there’d never been any issues.

  Maeve smiled, remembering celebrating her mom’s last birthday up here with Alvie. There’d been balloons and cake. Chris had been here as well as Greta and John. Her mom had looked so happy, despite her gaunt frame. It had been one of her last good days. She’d passed away only three weeks later. Maeve swallowed down the moment of melancholy, not wanting Alvie to sense it and have it dampen his outing.

  “Has he ever been out in the daylight?” Chris asked.

  Maeve shook her head. “No.”

  “Security concerns?”

  “Yes, but also eyes.”

  Chris frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “He can’t handle the sunlight as well.”

  “Couldn’t you get him some sunglasses?”

  Maeve laughed, imagining Alvie in some Ray-Bans. “We could. But it seemed wiser to just let him go out at night when he’s more comfortable and when there’s less chance of him being seen.”

  Alvie wandered along the rail of the building and then took a seat at one of the chairs in the corner. He sat silently, staring up at the sky.

  Chris leaned against the wall next to her, his gaze also on Alvie. “What do you think he’s thinking when he looks up there?”

  “I don’t know. He never shares his thoughts when he’s up here.”

  “Do you think he knows he’s from up there?” Chris asked.

  “I don’t think so.”

  Surprise flashed across Chris’s face. “Why not?”

  “We’ve never been allowed to tell him.”

  “What?”

  “One of the cardinal rules of the A.L.I.V.E. Project—the subject is not allowed to know anything about how they came to be. So, no, he doesn’t know.” She swallowed down the familiar guilt and shame that accompanied her words. She didn’t agree with the rule, but she wasn’t in a position to go against it, not if she wanted to stay with Alvie.

  “So where does he think he comes from?”

  Maeve sighed. “I don’t know. He’s asked.”

  “What have you told him?”

  “That I don’t know. Because that’s the truth.”

  “You don’t know?”

  Maeve nodded. “My mom knew, but she wasn’t allowed to tell me. And I don’t have access to those early records.”

  “Haven’t you asked?”

  Maeve nodded. “But I was told in no uncertain terms that it was beyond the scope of the project.”

  “Are you sure he doesn’t know? I mean, I thought he was telepathic.”

  Maeve’s head whipped toward Chris, her heart pounding. “Telepathic? What makes you say that?”

  “He can’t talk, which from what I gather is biological. His people must be able to communicate in some way.”

  Maeve just stared at him.

  “What? I went to college.”

  Maeve gave a small laugh. “Sorry, I’m just surprised. No one else has ever mentioned that before. And I’m not sure if he’s telepathic. He can communicate his emotions and he can feel others’ emotions. Sometimes he’s been able to receive an idea from my mind, but I have to really focus to make that happen. And honestly, we know each other so well, he may just know what I want. I’ve tried it with Greta and he doesn’t seem to understand what she’s trying to communicate.”

  “So he doesn’t know what he is?”

  Maeve shrugged, feeling the sadness she always did at the idea of Alvie being the only one of his kind on a planet of over seven billion humans. “I don’t think so.”

  “That’s really sad—being the only one of his kind.”

  “Well, at least on this planet,” she said.

  Chris raised an eyebrow. “Any ideas which one he’s from?”

  Maeve shook her head. “We used to think our solar system was the only part of the big universe. Then in 1995, 51 Pegasi B was found—the first planet orbiting a sun outside our solar system. Soon we realized Pegasi was just the beginning. There were more planets out there—a lot more. To date, they’ve discovered over three thousand exoplanets. And even that number is a gross underestimate.”

  “An underestimate? Why?”

  “Planets are found by the Kepler space telescope through the subtle dimming of a star’s light from a planet’s crossing in front of it. Larger planets will therefore be more likely to be noticed. Smaller planets may be too small for Kepler to detect. Even so, dozens of the planets we do know about exist in the Goldilocks Zone.”

  “The Goldilocks Zone?”

  “An area of space just the right distance from a sun, making the planet not too hot and not too cold. Just the right temperature to support life. They’ve found other Earth-like planets, some of which are huge. In the Milky Way alone, approximately 160 billion planets are estimated to exist. Of course, much like our solar system, most are believed to be without life. But what are the chances all are?”

  She took a breath. “And thanks to Kepler, there are close to a hundred planets that we believe may be suitable for life. But even then, no one knows what type of life. It could be microbial—which is not exactly what people are thinking about when they mention E.T.s.”

  Chris was quiet for a moment. “How many types do you think are out there?”

  “I don’t know. I think Alvie’s type exists. I’m guessing he’s one of the grays you hear about in alien abduction stories. But even then, there seem to be variations in those descriptions, meaning there could be different types of gray aliens.”

  “So do you think it’s just gray aliens?”

  “No. But they could be as rudimentary in their technology as we are. There could be millions of types but without the technology to either go there or have them come here, we’ll never know.” She smiled. “Or there could just be two.”

  Chris grinned. “So where do you think Alvie’s from?”

  Her dreams popped back into her mind, but Maeve shoved them away, not sure why she’d be thinking about that right now. “I don’t know. Sometimes, he seems so human, you know?”

  “Yeah.”

  “But then when you watch him on the obstacle course or play on the computer you realize exactly how different he is.”

  Chris looked around, making sure the other guard wasn’t close enough to hear. “Have you figured out anything about his episodes? Do you think it’s related to how down he’s been lately?”

  Maeve focused on keeping her breathing even and her face neutral. She was surprised Chris had noticed, but she shouldn’t be. Chris was extremely perceptive. And empathetic. He and Alvie are a lot alike. “No, but he has his ups and downs like anyone else.”

  Chris studied her face for a moment. “You’re sure?”

  Maeve looked up into his eyes and saw the concern there. And she wanted more than anything to tell him her fears about Alvie. But she turned away. “Yup. You haven’t told anyone about the episode, have you?”