1 Prologue

THE HOME COMPUTER ANNOUNCED THE DATE AND Jean's age to the day before starting her wake up playlist. Jean had been sixteen for 8 months, 10 days, and 13 hours. She threw her pillow at the control keypad on the wall and growled at it to hush before she reluctantly crawled out of bed.

Her brother, Peter, just a year younger than her, could already be heard clattering his spoon against his bowl of cereal in the family room. Jean rolled her eyes and grabbed her bathrobe from the hook beside her door.

'How does he manage to get up so early!' Jean groused while shoving her arms into the sleeves of her robe.

The filtered light from the floor to ceiling windows behind her bed warmed the smooth glossy floor beneath her feet. Disabling the privacy frost, she gazed down at the busy city of Triktin. Vehicles flying by at all levels. Busy people hurrying about on the side walk below. She tapped the window to bring up her schedule overlay. There were chores to be done, and homework assignments to finish.

Other than the fact that their parents were gone for the weekend, it was just another typical morning in the McClain household. Neither of the McClain teens could have expected the horrible piece of news headed their way or how drastically it would change their lives forever.

Jean heard Peter groan in the family room as his favorite morning show was interrupted by an emotionless newscaster.

"We are sorry to report that the owners of this channel, Girt and Donna McClain, have been found dead. More news on that in a moment," The newscaster announced before heading to commercial, Jean threw open her bedroom door and flew down the hall just in time to see her brother's cereal bowl smash into the floor in front of him.

Peter stood, eyes defiant, mouth hanging open.

"They showed mom and dad!" Peter yelled, pointing at the screen.

Jean turned back to the screen, not wanting to believe what she heard, just as the newscaster came back on the air.

"Mr. and Mrs. McClain were on a Safari trip in the Pekonet Desert when their peaceful afternoon went horribly wrong. Authorities in the area report that it appears that the McClains were killed by an unknown falling vehicle which exploded upon landing. A vast area of land was devastated. They are survived by two children, Jean and Peter McClain."

"Ships don't just explode like that after landing!" Peter had screamed at no one, as the reporter, moved on to other topics.

Jean rushed to their father's computer to look up the incident on the word-net. Sure enough, everything was as the newscaster had said. Their parents were dead.

The police came to confirm the news, in person, a few hours later.

At the funeral, everyone had tried to offer their condolences.

"Everything will be okay," Jean's friend Becky had said. "You mustn't lose faith in God."

"What kind of God would do this?" Peter had declared before storming out of the building.

*****

There was very little left of the vehicle that killed the McClain's in Udoran's Pekonet Desert. Speculation surrounded the few pieces that were recovered as they were comprised of a substance that none of the scientists on Udoran could identify. Some speculated that it was alien in nature, others thought it was a secret test vehicle. Whatever it was, it was clear the material was not a known element on Udoran. Earth also denied claim to the unknown substance.

Years passed and Jean now manned her own research ship. Her current mission was to track down, gather, and analyze samples from comets and other asteroids. The mission could sometimes become dull and boring between comet sightings, and today was one of those boring days. She stood on the observation deck of her ship absently passing her hand over the glittering lights of the console, feeling very reflective.

"I'd love to find a rock out here containing the elements from the wreckage of that falling vehicle. It's been years and we still have not figured out what it was or where it came from." Jean said absently while passing her hand over the glittering lights of a console in the research ship she now called her home.

Behind her, a different instrument panel responded to her statement with a loud warning alarm that brought Jean back to the present. She spun around to see what was wrong, and found that she was receiving a message from an unknown source. She tapped a button to hear the call.

"That wasn't a ship that exploded in the Pekonet Desert. It was a missile."

Unable to believe what she was hearing, Jean stared at her computer.

"From your silence, we assume that you do not believe us. If you allow us to come aboard your ship, we will explain."

Jean watched as a comet drifted into her view. She spared a few seconds to peel her eyes away from the viewscreen to make sure her instruments were recording the comet's majestic passing.

Yep, Jean shrugged. They are all doing what they are supposed to do.

Crediting the strange signal to her bored imagination, Jean welcomed the chance to focus on the passing comet.

She crossed over to another window to get a better view and realized what had looked like a comet was no longer fitting that description. The object was round, but instead of the usual comma tail, five spire-like objects extruded from its sides bending backward to meet and produce a fiery tail. Uneasiness filled her stomach.

Jean jumped as the research console sent out an alarm. She turned to her left, ran around the center circle of computer banks, and rounded on the culprit computer. Jean frowned as she realized what the long list of information scrolling down the blue glowing screen was trying to tell her. Horrified and mystified, she turned to the viewscreen across the room.

'What is this thing?'

The comet's pace slowed until it matched her own ship's relative speed. The comet turned slowly towards her ship, beginning its approach. Confused, Jean looked back and forth between the nearest computer terminals. One of them began screaming a proximity alarm. Six others sent out computerized voice messages meant to alert Jean to the comet's possible time to impact, probable future course, and various choices of evasive actions.

Stunned, she watched as the comet moved from sight and she activated her peripheral cameras, keeping the object on her viewscreen. Jean watched the comet come to a relative stop before brushing against the ship, causing a few more computers to squeal in alarm. She realized that it was trying to dock with her ship.

"Impossible!" She exclaimed, aloud, to the viewscreen.

Jean ran around the computerized observation deck shutting down the various alarms and manually issuing commands to tell the computer to cease all present activities. This brought the room into silence, except for the tiny beeps and chirps that told Jean that all her instructions were being followed. She looked back toward the viewscreen, which was still filled by the comet's looming form.

Desiring a better view, Jean decided to head down to the window beside the airlock. She crossed the room and stepped into an empty rectangular cavity in the wall. A panel slid down in front of her, sealing away the observation deck. Slowly, the small, closet-like room lost its gravity and Jean began to float. Just as her white, soft-soled shoes left the floor, the floor itself slid away to reveal a silver ladder.

Jean tucked her legs under her body, flipped upside-down, and proceeded to pull herself down the ladder. Once she reached the floor below, she snapped her shoes into their magnetic bottoms. She walked past the doors and ladders along the wall to her right, all which led to other areas on her ship, and made her way over to the airlock. Suddenly the weightlessness disappeared, as the ship's living quarters unexpectedly took on gravity.

"Hey! What?" Jean exclaimed, as her knees gave out from underneath her and her body crumpled to the floor from the sudden gravitational increase.

She carefully stood up and, testing the gravity, she walked to the controls beside the airlock door. Jean paused before the airlock, noticing that it was already pressurized. Excited but still nervous, Jean watched as her airlock opened before she even gave the command. Three tall and wiry forms sporting long, thick, green tails stepped through her ship's airlock as the door swung inward.

"We are the Platonians," the first one said.

Jean frowned at the language that sounded foreign to her ears. A second Platonian tossed something small to her which crawled up her arm and latched onto her ear. Jean screamed in terror, not knowing what this mechanical thing was about to do to her. She raised her hands to claw it from her ear just as the first Platonian repeated himself.

The object over her ear translated the message in Earth Standard.

Wide-eyed, Jean simply nodded while she gathered the courage to reply.

"You said that the explosion that killed my parents was a missile?" Jean asked, stunned and stammering out the words.

'I'm talking to Aliens! Aliens are real! Aliens are on my ship and I'm talking to them!' Jean mentally screamed.

"Yes," a second Platonian replied, nodding his knobby head and flicking a long, thick, green tail.

"Where did the missile come from then?" Jean asked. I can't believe that I am speaking to aliens!

"We have come to warn you," the third Platonian replied. "The species that destroyed your progenitors creates events that will draw humans into traps. Traps that could kill them.

"They lure the humans into searching for a cylindrical alien relic that happens to be hidden in various dangerous places—for example, on an inhospitable and dangerous planet, or in a star system about to go nova."

"Many of your species have been harmed, and we want to prevent further loss." The second Platonian spread his arms out wide to illustrate as he spoke.

"You see, the aliens had placed one of those relics on Udoran, and when your parents got too close… Well, the aliens blew them up, if you don't mind my borrowing a nondescript phrase from your language," the first Platonian replied, as he placed a firm hand on Jean's shoulder.

Even though the Platonian's touch repulsed her; Jean's pain as she relived the pictures from the news of her parents' death was strong enough that she was willing to ignore her apprehension.

"Can I help stop them from doing this again?" Jean asked.

"We need someone who knows your kind—someone who might be able to help us deter your people from trying to find these relic baits."

"I'll do everything I can," Jean replied, lifting her face to look into the eyes of the Platonian nearest to her.

She looked away quickly. Jean was unsure why, but every time she looked at these beings she began to feel a chill up her spine.

"Good. Come aboard our ship and we will show you our first urgent problem," the second, shortest Platonian urged as they led her into their vessel.