Bonnie's New Auntie: The Future Burns Bright : Epilogue #1

By Marcus Shields and Val Fullard

Meet Bonnie Billings: a 16-year-old “C” student with “D” looks and an “E” future ahead of her, living in a “C” household in the Phoenix, Arizona of the 2040s.

A lot’s been happening “out there” lately, but neither Bonnie nor her family pay much attention; they’re too preoccupied with keeping up with the Joneses and– in Bonnie’s case– in surviving non-stop bullying from the “in-crowd” at her dreary, run-of-the mill, suburban high-school.

This evening, her father’s younger brother– one “Bob Billings” from Tucson– is coming over for dinner, after a prolonged, unexplained absence.

Uncle Bob’s bringing his whole clan, but Bonnie despises boring family get-togethers… and her uncle has a new trophy girlfriend, who’s everything that Bonnie had forlornly hoped to be, but came in “last in class” about.

And what’s even worse (so she’s been told) is– adding insult to injury– this way-too-young-looking woman is now going to be Bonnie’s “Auntie”!

The Billings teenager hates Uncle Bob’s new “squeeze”, sight-unseen; but Bonnie’s new “Auntie” is unlike anyone who has ever set foot on Planet Earth… and Bonnie’s “C” lifestyle is in for a big change!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Telostic Publishing
• Release date: Nov 21, 2021
• ISBN: 9781926515250

Book preview

The Angel

Brings Fire

and

The Future

Burns Bright

Epilogue (One) :

Bonnie’s New Auntie

(First Edition)

by

Marcus B. Shields

Copyright © Marcus Shields / Telostic Corporation, 2010-2021.

All rights reserved.

ISBN : (978-1-926515-25-0)

For additional information about The Angel Brings Fire and Future Burns Bright series (and associated content), surf to :

http://abfbook.telostic.com

This is for all the lonely people,

Thinking that life has passed them by

Table of Contents

Prologue      7

Uncle Bob’s New Squeeze      9

You Can’t Choose Your Relatives      9

Do You See A Resemblance?      16

Dinner-Time For A New Princess      31

A Nice, Leisurely Flight (I)      47

School-Days      53

Yes, Ms. Marlowe… It’s Me      53

Even The Tree Can’t Believe      57

Just Here To Chill      62

Mooned      69

A Frank Chat With The Uncle      79

Seems Like A Dream      85

First Test For Young Heroines      89

The Cops Aren’t Up On Current Events      96

At The Cop-Shop      106

Interrogation      116

It’s The Bureau’s Game Now      129

To The Call Of Duty      133

The Quests      138

May The Fire Protect Me      138

The Bureau’s Hot Wheels      139

Inside The Cholla Inferno      140

Here’s Where It Gets Real      150

Yes; You, Too, Can Do The Mind-F***      156

Plan B For Young Megha      160

A Face-Saving Measure      162

Two New People… To Hit The Ground Running      165

Not Faking Being Scared      172

The Fire Ranks Guns      175

A Nice, Leisurely Flight (II)      182

An Offer That Billy Can’t Refuse      187

One Day Later, And Look Where I Am      189

Call Me Bonnie      192

Getting In By The Loading-Dock      194

Otis’ Wave Of Death      196

Is There Something Going On, Here?      208

Let’s Play Catch      210

You’ll Want To Get A Run At It      212

Bonnie’s Lightening-Ball      215

A Substandard Pleasure-Cruise Experience      220

Message From The Herald Of The Storied Watcher      224

An Ocean-Liner, Neatly Mended      226

Efforts At A Low Profile      236

Press-Conference On The Docks      238

Try To Raise A Nice Girl      245

You, Too, Must Learn To Improvise      246

On (And Off) The Roof-Top      248

Press-Conference In The Parking-Lot      251

A Whole New Way Of Living      259

Groceries Through The Siege      259

Oh-kay, Mom      264

Not A C Student Any More      265

Yes, Dyl... Now You Can      270

Didn’t Know I Could; Did It Anyway      271

Small Boy : 1; Alien Goddess : 0      277

We’re The New People      279

Alien Goddess : 1; Small Boy : 0      282

Lead On, Young Super-Being      286

Prologue

This book is an epilogue to the Angel Brings Fire / Future Burns Bright series, and while we believe that you will enjoy reading Bonnie’s New Auntie on its own merits, to understand the background and the book’s setting, it is strongly suggested that you should enjoy…

Angel of Mailànkh (Book One)

Doubt Me Not (Book Two)

Angel and The Empire (Book Three)

Children of The Fire (Book Four)

Of The Angel Brings Fire series, and

Storm In The North (Book One)

The Race (Book Two)

Against Time (Book Three)

The Future Alight (Book Four)

Of The Future Burns Bright series,

Before starting to read Bonnie’s New Auntie.

Marcus Shields

Author

Uncle Bob’s New Squeeze

You Can’t Choose Your Relatives

Dog… dog… dog… woof! inwardly despaired the sixteen-and-a-half-year-old white, suburban girl, as she stared despondently at the chubby, acne- and blackhead-plagued face, bedecked by perpetually-oily, unattractive locks of dark-brown hair, looking back at her in the mirror.

The day just passed (actually… just survived) at her Phoenix, Arizona, high-school had been the usual ordeal of boring classes, intermixed with an endless barrage of taunts about her personal appearance, on the part of the other students. The more polite ones just gave her a contemptuous stare, but the real, casual, everyday cruelty was meted out by the pretty girls and their football-team boyfriends.

She was, in fact, so used to the put-downs by now, that she had even pre-positioned a container in her locker for the doggie-biscuits that the local school assholes routinely left on the hallway floor, just below the locker-door.

That way, she reasoned, she could at least give the treats to the stray mutts down at the local Pound.

If you have a lemon… make lemonade out of it, she tried to remind herself.

Why do they have to be so mean? she thought.

Oh yeah… because that’s just what you do, to a dog… isn’t it, Bonnie?

They’re just treating you the same way as they do to all the other ugly girls.

Wasn’t there a song about that? Something about Seventeen or something?

Whatever it is… I just hope nobody’s playing it on the radio, anymore.

Bonnie, honey, came the familiar, reassuring voice of her mother, from somewhere downstairs, Fifteen-minute warning! And make sure you’re wearing something nice, dear!

Temporarily breaking her stare away from the depressing image in the mirror, the teenager rushed quickly over to the bathroom door, opened it and shouted out, "I’m not ready… and why’re we eating so early? It’s not even four yet!"

Don’t you remember, dear? chided the mother. "Uncle Bob and his family are coming over, tonight! I made a nice roast chicken dinner for everyone, with mashed potatoes and gravy, like you always ask for. We’re sitting down at the table at five-thirty, but we’ve got an hour or so to chat with Uncle Bob and the rest of them, beforehand."

"Well… so what? called back the girl. Why’s that so special, anyway?"

"It’s always special when we have relatives, persisted the mother, And don’t forget… it’s the first time we’ve seen him, since that, uhh, ‘comet’ business. Did you hear, somebody said, he was on TV? Sure wish we had seen that, and Elora down the street says she recorded it, but I haven’t had the chance to drop over and sit down with her yet. And Bob’s adopted some new kids, if you can believe that –"

"I don’t believe that… any of it, argued Bonnie. He always hated kids… remember? Said after Auntie Agatha, he’d never get married again, nor have any more kids of his own –"

"I’ll have none of that! warned the mother. That’s his business – not ours – and Uncle Bob has always been nice to all of us… you and Dylan especially. He’ll be here very soon, so be polite with him and anybody who he brings with him… and be presentable, okay?"

But I’m still – the teenager tried to say.

"Fifteen minutes!" declared the mother.

Bonnie heard the door to the kitchen close.

Letting out a sigh, she closed and locked the bathroom door, again positioning herself directly in front of one of the two vanity sinks. She swung the mirror-assembly to one side, revealing a set of hidden shelves in a recessed compartment behind the mirror.

She retrieved her personal makeup-kit from one of the shelves, resigned to the fact that, as was usual… it wouldn’t do much good.

Bonnie was, of course, fashionably late, but she had expertly timed the delay so as to have gone over the fifteen-minute limit by only a few, so when she applied eye-shade and final thick layer of face-makeup, she knew she would get away with dallying.

Unfortunately, however, she hadn’t had any time to properly wash her hair – the stuff was still a half-brushed, slightly-oily mess – and the only half-presentable thing that she had found to wear, was a color-block corduroy jacket with a couple of pockets on the sides. Otherwise, she elected to just wear the casual-duds, including black stretch slacks, that she’d had on for school, and the parents would have to live with the consequences.

"Bonnie, where are you… Uncle Bob’s here!" came her mother’s voice, from downstairs.

Comingg, answered the teenager, as she stepped briskly down the top steps of the staircase that connected the top two levels of the house. But on the third step, she stopped instinctively to survey the scene unfolding in the hallway leading to the living-room, just inside the home’s front foyer.

A man who she instantly recognized as her Uncle Bob from Tucson (although, Bonnie did a double-take at first; her uncle – though dressed in his trademark, poorly-pressed business-suit, with loose tie – somehow looked considerably younger than she remembered him, and he had definitely lost some weight) had just shaken her father’s hand.

Milling around him were three children, each dressed in comfortable, semi-formal clothes. The first was a handsome, tan-skinned young man maybe a bit younger than her brother Dylan. The second was a shy-looking female perhaps a year or two younger still, with an even darker complexion than the first boy. The third and final child was a little white girl who couldn’t have been more than about four or five years old.

Oddly – despite the still-oppressive, always-slowly-increasing late-afternoon heat of suburban Arizona – none of the newcomers looked as if they had been sweating.

Wow, considered Bonnie.

For somebody who said he didn’t like kids… Uncle Bob’s sure gone all the other way.

Didn’t they pass some kind of law, preventing white people from adopting, like, Mexicans… or whatever?

But she had little time for ruminating on such matters, because her attention was drawn to the last member of the Tucson contingent to step through the doorway, into the house : this was a slim, perfectly-proportioned young Caucasian woman with striking green eyes and a bright, friendly Colgate smile.

She was at least a head shorter than Uncle Bob (with whom she was holding hands) and thus was about Bonnie’s own height. The young woman had flowing, golden-blond hair cut into a bang over her forehead and wore tight-fitting (but stylish and expensive-looking) California- or Florida-style casual-clothes, along with comfortable slippers.

She had some kind of exotic-looking locket or pendant hanging from a chain around her neck, but whatever this was, it didn’t look like a crucifix or that Jewish star-symbol.

The teenager did a double-take and was overcome with competing feelings of jealousy and distaste.

Uncle Bob… you cradle-robber! she peevishly reflected.

Whoever that is… she’s got to be young enough to be one of the girls from my classes at Paradise Valley High!

Uhh no… check that… better than even the leaders of the cheerleading-team at school… omigod, is she ever pretty!

First time I saw her, I didn’t notice it… how come she’s so good-looking, all of a sudden?

How’d an old slob like Uncle Bob, land one like that?

Anyway… hate her already!.

Bonnie inwardly cringed, anticipating the thinly-disguised, patronizing contempt that she expected to get from Uncle Bob’s new trophy girlfriend.

After all, stewed the teenager, that’s what I’d get from any girl at school, who had this little chickie’s looks.

"So… who’s this, Bob?" she heard her obviously-impressed (and envious) father say, to his younger brother.

Everybody calls me, ‘Sari’, sir, interjected the young woman. You are… ‘Uncle Simon’… is that right?

Bonnie’s father tossed his head backwards and let out a friendly chuckle.

Nobody calls me ‘sir’, honey, he replied. Very nice meeting you, Sari.

It is an honor, si… oops! she said, suppressing a giggle.

As the Sari-girl half-laughed, Bonnie took note of an impressive, but unusual, smile; while the girl’s teeth were immaculately pearly-white (another feature that the teenager had unsuccessfully tried to do herself, over the past few years), there was something odd-looking about Sari’s four incisors, which looked unusually big – or maybe, long – compared to what one would have expected to see.

"And wow, Bob… don’t you look great! observed Simon Billings. You look like you’ve lost fifty pounds and gone back in time by ten years at least. What’s your secret, big guy?"

Oh… just giving up junk food, and a few sit-ups, I guess, evaded Bob Billings. After I met, uhh, ‘Sari’, I figured I had to shape up… ‘old dog, new tricks’… you know?

You’ll have to teach me those ‘tricks’, quipped the man’s elder brother. Been on every diet by now… nothing works.

As to that to which my mate Bob refers, honored Uncle Simon, inscrutably mentioned the new young woman, This will be made available to you and your family in love and trust… but it will be up to each of you, whether or not to partake of them.

Uhh, ‘Sari’, cautioned Uncle Bob, How about we give them a few minutes to get acquainted, before we start in with all that… okay?

What the hell’s he talking about? wondered the teenager.

Maybe she’s come kind of crazy cult-follower?

Or a druggie?

"Oh… of course, cringed the new young woman. How could I so forget my manners!"

She looked all around and fixed her stare on Bonnie’s brother.

Here is young prince Dylan, remarked the young woman, pointing at the dark-haired, Caucasian boy (who, despite his callow age, was clearly himself struck by Sari’s appealing presence), And your honored mother… Aunt – excuse me, ‘Auntie’ – Geraldine. I am looking forward to becoming acquainted with all of you, and with young princess ‘Bonnie’ –

Suddenly, the Sari-girl shot a glance to the top of the stairs, and for a half-second, Bonnie felt trapped, transfixed – truth be told, she didn’t know what it was – as the young woman’s regal, yet friendly, smile seemed to focus in on the teenager like a laser-beam.

It felt as if Bonnie was being stared at by the King of England, or, maybe by the Pope, or, maybe, by somebody or something greater still.

It felt weird… but ‘weird’, in an inexplicably warm, exciting and disarming way.

Hi, Bonnie! called out the Sari-girl.

Uhh… hello, Sari, was all that Bonnie could manage to reply.

I hate my life, thought the deflated teenager.

She can’t miss all these zits, and the fact that I can barely fit into this jacket.

And the fact that I’m a dog.

It’s so unfair!

How come she gets born beautiful… and I’m the Ugly Duckling?

Well, you know, remarked the mother with a bemused smile, "I guess all parents think of their kids as little ‘princes’ and ‘princesses’."

Geraldine addressed her daughter, saying in the direction of the stair-top, "Don’t let it go to your head, dear… and come on down here to meet everybody!"

"But… thus en-nobled indeed are all the children who now hear these words… not to mention their parents, offered the Sari-girl. Shortly you and your honored mate shall know the happy and great truth of this."

This chickie sure talks funny, thought Bonnie, as she resumed slowly descending down the staircase.

Also, the young woman stated, "We have not yet introduced our own little ones. So behold… here is my first son, Master Tommy Singing-Bird George; then, we have young Vìr – uhh, I mean, ‘princess’ – Sayuri, and youngest but by no means least, little Elissha. They are all Bob’s and mine by right of adoption, and Sayuri, who comes from Brazil, is still learning the ‘English’-language… so please be patient with her, if at first she does not communicate perfectly with you. Children – can you say ‘hi’, please?"

Bashful and somewhat-forced, perfunctory greetings (one in a mixture of Portuguese and English), were offered by all three of the junior Tucson contingent.

Let’s head off to the living-room, where we can sit down and catch up on what everybody’s been doing, lately, suggested Simon Billings.

"Aww, Dad, complained Bonnie’s brother, Do I have to? I don’t want to sit around for, like, hours and hours, just listening to you and Mom talk and talk about that lame –"

The boy was no doubt about to hear a sharp reprimand from his father; but this was pre-empted by a proposal by the Sari-girl, who said, Tommy – young prince Dylan is about your own age… perhaps the two of you can find something to do that would be more interesting than listening to all of us, ahh, ‘boring adults’ –

"Sure… I guess," agreed the eldest of the Tucson Billings children.

"Can I, Dad? chimed in Dylan Billings. I could show Tommy my model planes and cars. There’s one I haven’t finished yet… we could work on it together."

Simon Billings looked at his wife and said, I got no problem with that, Gerri… how about you?

Well, declared Geraldine Billings, Just as long as the both of them are going to show up on time for dinner, and sit through it until everyone’s excused. That fair?

Yeah, said Bonnie’s father.

"Come on!" encouraged Dylan, as he headed for the staircase.

Tommy began to follow, but as he reached the bottom of the stairs, he suddenly stopped abruptly, wheeled in place and looked straight at his mother.

Why’d he stop on a dime, like that? mused Bonnie.

Nobody said anything to him…

But Tommy dear, commanded the Sari-girl, Remember what Bob and I said, before we came over here?

"Yeah… ‘no Fire and no talk about it, until you or Uncle Bob says so’… right?" responded the boy.

Very good, confirmed the young woman.

What’s the deal, Bob? bemusedly inquired Simon Billings. Kid’s a pyromaniac, or something?

No… nothing like that, parried the younger brother. "Sari’s just asking him to stick to, uhh, ‘kid-stuff’, for the time being. Thing is… all of us have been through quite a lot, lately. We wanted the chance to explain it to you, right from the start."

Okay… I guess, answered the elder brother. What makes me think it’ll be quite a story?

Bob Billings walked a short distance and turned to stare outwards through the house’s bay window, which looked out over a typical suburban cul-de-sac.

Simon, he carefully spoke, "You don’t know the half of it."

The others followed the younger Billings brother into the living-room; but only a second or two after everyone had found a seat, Bonnie decided to speak up.

Dad, she said to her father, How come Dylan gets to go off with that, uhh, ‘Tommy’ kid… and I got to just sit here?

Because it’s the polite thing to do, dear, interjected the mother. Uncle Bob and Sari have got a lot to tell us.

Well – started the teenager; but she found herself being over-spoken by the new girl.

Bob, voiced the Sari-girl, "As Tommy is ‘becoming acquainted’ with young prince Dylan, so would I like to, ahh, ‘get to better know Vìr – ha ha… there I go again, right? – noble-lady Bonnie of House Billings of Phoenix. Perhaps she can show me her clothes, her school-work and her room –"

It’s not much of a room, really – and I didn’t get a chance to tidy it up – protested Bonnie.

Why O why, Jesus? she seethed.

She just wants to rub my nose in it, but I can’t –

If it is yours, commented the Sari-girl, in her odd, hard-to-place, lightly-accented English, "Then it is by definition, ‘special’. As is everything about you, young sister."

What the hell’s she talking about? furiously pondered Bonnie.

And what’s with this young sister bullshit?

She can’t be more than a couple years older than I am!

You pervert, Uncle Bob!

"I think that’s an excellent idea! directed Geraldine. Bonnie honey, why don’t you take Sari up there and tell her about school, et cetera… and don’t forget to tell her how you came in second in the debating contest last semester, you hear?"

At first, all that Bonnie’s trapped-rat stare got in return from the Sari-girl, was an unctuously-friendly, cheerful smile. But a second or two later, she stood up, pointed to the top of the staircase and said, That way… right?

"Yeah… that way, moped the teenager. Nothing to see… but I guess you get to see it."

As the two – with a discouraged Bonnie in front – headed for the stairs, they noticed that Bob Billings was also now standing.

Actually, Simon, he stated, With what I’ve got to tell you… I think I’d rather go for a stroll, and we can talk the talk while we’re walking the walk, if you don’t mind. I seem to remember that there’s a small park out back… right?

I’ve got no objections, replied the brother. But we can’t leave Bob’s kids all by themselves, here.

Yeah, but, offered the mother, "I’ve got something in the oven anyway, so I shouldn’t go out of the house for the time being; Simon, you can bring me up to speed later on this ‘really super-secret fascinating stuff’ that Bob’s planning to tell us. And Sari… Bob… would it be okay if Elissha and Sayuri were to stay with me, while you’re both off with Bonnie and my husband? They can help me in the kitchen, with making dinner. Would you like that, children?"

The littlest girl chirped an enthusiastic Yes!, while the ex-Brazilian just nodded pleasantly.

Fine by me, said Uncle Bob, with a shrug.

Also by me, echoed the Sari-girl, Except, – she turned her gaze to fall on the two young girls – Remember what I said to Tommy, dear ones?

Now it was Elissha’s turn to nod her head without saying anything; but Sayuri repeated, "Sem Fogo… e sem falar sobre isso, Mama!"

Why… what pretty words, from such a pretty young lady! cajoled Geraldine. "I only wish I knew what you’re saying, darling!"

Sayuri giggled and coquettishly bowed her head.

I learn cook, Auntie Geraldine from, she half-whispered.

"Ha, ha… I hope so, honey, remarked Simon Billings. Well, Bob… lead the way, big guy."

Bob Billings headed for the door, as his sister-in-law took the two little girls in hand, in the direction of the kitchen.

And Bonnie was now alone, with the person who (she was sure), she most disliked, in the whole, wide, world.

Do You See A Resemblance?

Fortunately, Bonnie’s room was at the opposite end of the upper-floor hallway, from that assigned to her brother; thus, when the two young-looking females walked in and the door was shut – with the Sari-girl immediately helping herself to a seat on the edge of Bonnie’s bed – there was a reasonable expectation of privacy.

That’s funny, thought Bonnie.

The door shut all by itself, after Sari walked in behind me… but it never does that – I have to grab the handle and make it close.

Neither one of us put a hand on either the handle or the door itself.

The wind, maybe?

But the window in my room is closed… and it’s still air in the hallway…

At least Dylan can’t listen in on what I do in here, offered the teenager. In our old house, before we moved here, he used to put his ear up to the wall between our rooms and snoop in on me. That’s the one good thing about it.

That might be true of your brother, commented the Sari-girl, "But it definitely is not, of my son Tommy. He has very good hearing, you know."

"But he’s at the far end of the hall, so how could he… oh, never mind, wondered Bonnie, out loud. So… here it is. Just a bed, some clothes-drawers, some wall-posters, and a window looking out over a bunch of boring houses in a boring part of a boring city. I told you, you know. Are we over with it, now?"

In fact… we are just – how would Bob say, yes – ‘getting started’, contradicted the new girl, much to Bonnie’s thinly-disguised disappointment. Come over here and sit with me, little princess. We have much to discuss, and hopefully much to accomplish together… and there is not much time in which to do it, at least not if we want to have everything finished before dinner-time.

What the H is she talking about? mused a perplexed Bonnie.

The faster that you come over here, the more quickly that you will find out, inexplicably stated the Sari-girl.

She patted her hand on the top of the bed-covering, at a spot beside where she was herself sitting.

"I wish you wouldn’t call me that," protested the teenager.

"Would not call you, what? pretended the Sari"-girl.

’Princess’, said Bonnie. "It sounds funny. Like you’re calling me a kid, I mean."

It is not a diminutive, explained the new girl. The opposite, in fact. I address you with a title of love, honor and kinship, Bonnie. It is the honest truth.

The hand-gesture was repeated.

Here, if you please, pressed the Sari-girl.

Dragging her feet with every pace and rolling her eyes in the process, Bonnie slowly came over to the bed, sat down beside Uncle Bob’s new trophy girlfriend and turned to address her.

Look, demanded the teenager, trying all the way to look dutifully friendly, "I don’t want to be, like, impolite, Sari… but like, when it sounds like you’re teasing me with all these riddles… they’re getting kind of lame, you know? We don’t have anything in common, I mean. Except – okay – the fact that you’re, uhh, ‘with’, Uncle Bob. I don’t mind you being my ‘Auntie’ – that’s none of my business, I guess – but we don’t have to be ‘best buds’, to do that. Am I making any sense, here?"

Bonnie, answered the new girl, in an unusually low voice (as if she was trying to avoid being overheard), "I apologize for the, ahh, ‘mystery’ pertaining to some of what I have said and done, up to this point; and I promise you, very shortly, you will understand what it is all about."

Fine… go ahead, grumbled the teenager.

The Sari-girl retrieved a small mobile communicator from somewhere within the folds of her diaphanous, stylish, women’s California- or Florida-style casual-clothing.

"Let me show you something, she said, with an inscrutable half-smile on her face. And… take a moment to compose yourself; for be thus advised, from the first second that you shall see what I will present… you will say ‘goodbye’, to that ‘boring old’ life that you have so far come to know."

Bonnie’s heart skipped a beat.

Does that mean she’s gonna kill me, or something?

Her new Auntie held the communicator in her left hand at the end of an outstretched arm, so that the device’s fold-out video-screen was easily visible to both herself and the teenager.

Scene Number Fourteen at the White House, starting with first images of Tommy and myself, she spoke, to the communicator’s voice-recognition software.

Immediately, the video-screen showed the Press Room of the White House, with the President of the United States standing at the Blue Goose Lectern and saying,

I'd... uhh... like to introduce Commander Sam Jacobson and his Mars mission team,… and I'll say ‘hello’ and ‘thank you’ again, to our alien-friend – Karéin-Mayréij – over there.

The camera-angle of the video-stream focused on the Storied Watcher, standing in the middle of the field of view, hand-in-hand with her son.

The Sari-girl quietly commanded, Pause video.

Do you see a resemblance? she quipped, as a wide-eyed Bonnie gasped and reflexively moved slightly further away, laterally on the bed-surface.

"Th… that’s… you?" was all that Bonnie could force out.

The Sari-girl just nodded affirmatively.

"Come on… it’s got to be a fake! demanded the teenager. They can do all sorts of lame shit with that video-editing software!"

The Sari-girl now shook her head in the negative. "That was me, accompanied by Tommy and many of our friends of the New People, Bonnie. It is not a ‘fake’. If you doubt, just ask the President – he will, ahh, attest to having met us, if for no reason other than my son, and Bob, very nearly succeeded in killing him, and that we – uhh – kind of trashed his ‘Oval Office’. Fortunately, most of that damage has now been repaired… or so I am told."

She winked at the other, while wearing a wry smile.

"So… you’re, like, telling me that you’re the alien? asked the teenager. No way! Prove it, then!"

For a half-second, the new girl closed her eyelids. She also stood upright.

When they re-opened, the eyes of Bob Billings’ erstwhile better half were… glowing in a silver color; and the communicator was floating in mid-air, with no obvious means of support.

It had only been a second or two; but somehow, the newcomer instantly looked far more intimidating – indeed, terrifying.

There was a regal, godly air to her.

Though in fact no taller than the Billings teenager, the new girl seemed much larger than her apparent height. Her face was illuminated from below, in a menacing, awe-inspiring way; and strange, inspiring, stirring and exciting music (or something akin to it – the experience was unlike anything that Bonnie had ever previously experienced – as adrenaline surged into her veins, providing a sudden, overpowering high) seemed to be playing from every point around her, yet from nowhere in particular (or, perhaps, the Billings daughter thought, the tune was playing only in her own head).

An overwhelmed Bonnie felt a crazy urge to get down on her knees and start worshiping, but instead, she forced herself to stand up and to step about three paces away from the bedside.

My real name is ‘Karéin-Mayréij’, young princess, evenly explained the newly-revealed creature, as she plucked the communicator out of thin air and then sat back down. Though I am also known of, as ‘The Storied Watcher’. I am the one who Commander Sam Jacobson and his team awoke from slumber on the planet that you call Mars… and the one who destroyed the ‘Lucifer’ comet… and the one who lifted the third-part of that big obelisk, into the White House lawn… and the one who fought with an atom-smashing bomb, over the oceans to the east of your ‘America’ empire. I am many thousands of your years old, and I have many mighty, weirding powers – most of which are far beyond your current ability to comprehend – at my disposal. I encountered your Uncle Bob shortly after I fell to Earth, badly-wounded from the encounter with the comet; I fell in love with him and then had to rescue him, Tommy and Elissha as well, after the American government kidnapped them. And… I would be most honored and joyful to be your ‘Auntie’… if you will only accept my love and companionship, in so doing. This latter grace do I beg of you, blessed little sister.

"Fuck! inveighed a shaken Bonnie. Well, okay… so you’re the ‘alien’. Like… the one that went flying in outer space, and… holy crap! I mean –"

You mean that you are surprised and a little disoriented, and this was not what you had expected… am I right? cajoled the Sari-girl.

The outward manifestations of her supernatural powers, except for the eyes, waned to insubstantiality.

"No shit! replied the teenager. You can say that again! I thought you were, like, just a pretty girl – like somebody for Uncle Bob to show off, to –"

As my beloved Bob is wont to say… ‘duh’! interjected the new girl, with a cheery, mischievous smile. "For the record, little sister… I believe that true ‘beauty’ is something that comes from here, – she placed a hand over her forehead – And from here."

She placed the same hand over where a human being’s heart would be.

Verily I say, added the Storied Watcher, "Real beauty comes from having a good heart and from knowing what suffering is all about, and in therefore wanting to escape others from it. But as to the superficial guise of it that lies on the surface, well… shortly, we shall do something about that – this I promise you!"

As if, sourly mused the teenager.

Does… do Mom and Dad know about this? stammered Bonnie.

I believe that Bob is telling them about it, right now, answered the alien-girl. "Actually, we were both quite surprised that your parents – in fact, you, yourself – did not seem to already know about, ahh, ‘us’… about what has lately gone on with our family, and the New People. Surely you, and those in your neighborhood, must have seen the tee-vee news-reports? And what about the in-vest-ee-gay-shun that the President is now holding in his capital city… that is, the one about the big battle that recently beset yonder white palace, in which he resides…?"

"Uhh… yeah… sort of, uncertainly responded the teenager. But around here most folks don’t pay much attention to anything that happens, like, ‘out there’ – it doesn’t matter much to how we live our lives, that’s what Dad always says – and besides, most of that shit on the news is all faked… like, they make it all up with special-effects and whatnot, just to screw with us. Nobody believes it, you know."

The Sari-girl rolled her eyes – which were no longer glowing as brightly, although there was still a clearly-visible shine within them – upward and let out a weary sigh.

"What does one do, with such people who happily believe lies, but who all the while disregard and ignore the plain truth? she complained. Well, anyway… that ‘is what it is’, I suppose. But listen, Bonnie – the time is short – I believe that we only have about forty-five minutes or so, until dinner-time… and we have much yet to do. Please sit again beside me. Here."

Again, she motioned with a hand-tap on the bed.

Slowly and with hesitation in every foot-step, Bonnie edged her way over to the designated spot. She took her seat.

What should I call you? Just Sari? she asked.

My full, real name is ‘Karéin-Mayréij’, stated the alien-girl, You can use either that, or ‘Sari’, or ‘Storied Watcher’, or ‘Karéin’ – even though this is not really a ‘first name’ as in the English language – or, you can call me, ‘hey you’, as my Presidential courtier friend Jerr-ee Kaysten often does. Any will work.

She grinned, and was heartened to see the traces of a wary smile also on the teenager’s face.

"So… I can hardly believe who I’m talking to, but anyway… what do you want of me?" inquired Bonnie.

"Foremost… I want you to listen, instructed Karéin-Mayréij. For you have some decisions to make – and if you decide wisely, we have just enough time to do what is needed. With me so far?"

"I’m listening, all right," confirmed Bonnie.

Holy shit… am I ever! she mused.

Some of the kids at school who had been following all this shit on Neo, said she was, like, Jesus 2.0 –

Oh-kay, then, said the alien-girl. "And I apologize if this is, ahh, ‘coming at you rather quickly’… but that is unfortunately inevitable. The first thing that I will say is, your lifestyle – and that of your mother, father and brother – is about to change very significantly. Bonnie, you are now kinfolk to the greatest and most important family ever to walk on the face of this planet named ‘Earth’… that is, my own family – myself, Bob, Tommy, Sayuri and Elissha. Think of it like marrying into the royal family of that ‘England’-kingdom across yonder big Atlantic Ocean… except that we are far more noble and powerful, than any human being could ever dream of becoming. Do you understand?"

No… but do I, like, get a crown, or something? the teenager tried to joke.

Ha! giggled the Sari-girl. "Nothing like that, I am afraid… but… what we shall adorn you with – assuming, of course, that you shall agree to this of your own free will – that is far, far more precious than any hat-of-gold-and-jewels, little sister!"

Again, Bonnie silently pondered,

What the hell’s she talking about?

I am, ahh, ‘getting to’ that, continued the Storied Watcher. And it is actually the most important thing that we have to discuss… and for you to decide. Tell me… is there anything about ‘you’ as ‘you’ now, that – given the opportunity – you would change?

Uhh… no, prevaricated the teenager. "I’m, uhh, fine. Really. Just… fine!"

Bonnie, softly spoke Karéin-Mayréij with a kind, knowing expression on her face, "When humans – even from the best and most understandable of intentions – try to mislead me… it will not work. I have had this kind of conversation with literally hundreds of mortals, over many thousands of your years. You can be honest with me."

"Is it… that obvious?" whimpered Bonnie.

No, informed the Sari-girl. It is just that you might call me an, ahh, ‘mind-reader’.

You mean – all this time, you’ve been – challenged a frustrated Bonnie.

The alien-girl nodded affirmatively and explained, "I try not to… but sometimes, when the feelings are strong enough, it is hard to avoid picking them up. Do not be self-conscious, little sister! You have nothing to be ashamed of… and I will not betray your confidence."

Now utterly out of her comfort-zone, the teenager answered, "Okay… you win. I won’t bullshit you, Sari. Or ‘Karéin’… or whoever you are. You want to know? Well… just look at me, for Chrissakes! Go on – I’m a ‘dog’! You can say it! Why not? Everybody else does!"

She hung her head and began to sob, but felt her chin being gently lifted up by the alien-girl’s extended hand.

Her voice again soft and compassionate, the alien-girl offered, "Bonnie… I will never demean you in such a callous and unfair manner. People in your culture often judge others, and are sometimes very cruel or, conversely, friendly to them,