The Prime released a deep, weary breath that seemed to carry the weight of worlds. Her golden eyes pierced through the holographic projection, and despite the millions of miles of space between us, I felt pinned beneath that gaze like a butterfly on a collector's board.
"Declan Hewes is the wealthiest man on Earth." Each word fell from her lips measured and heavy. "Wealthier even than several beings in the known universe, including severalkingdoms. A man with that kind of wealth, that kind of influence...." She paused, and I watched as she steepled her long, elegant fingers beneath her chin, the gesture somehow both contemplative and predatory. "A man with that kind of wealth can always control those beneath him. Money buys loyalty, silence, and power in equal measure."
Shadows gathered in the hollows of her face as her expression darkened further, transforming her beauty into something almost frightening. "I worry that his reach is broader than we originally anticipated that his influence extends far deeper into both our worlds than any of us realized." She gave a curt nod to the little green creature at her side, and his hands immediately flew over his datapad, the soft tapping filling the brief silence like rain on a window. "If you will allow me, I have someone else I would like to add to this meeting."
The screen shimmered and rippled like water disturbed by a stone, the image fragmenting briefly before resolving into two new figures. My breath caught. Two males appeared, both strikingly humanoid and undeniably handsome in a way that made my pulse quicken despite everything. Iridescent purple and teal scales caught the light like precious gems across one male's skin, his dark purple hair swept back from a face of sharp, elegant bones. The other bore deep blue hair with scales of blue and gold, hints of deep pink scattered across his shoulders and neck like watercolor brushstrokes.
"King Vraxxan, Diarvet, welcome." The Prime's voice warmed as she greeted them, and they reciprocated with synchronized nods and smiles that would have been utterly charming under different circumstances.
"Diarvet was recently part of an incident involving the Kwado prince," The Prime continued, her full lips tightening just a fraction—the only sign of her displeasure at whatever had transpired. "There was also a human male present, a male whoseidentity we've been working to confirm." Her gaze flicked to Maddie, one elegant eyebrow arching in silent question. "Do you have the video?"
"Yeah," Maddie said, already tapping on her own with practiced efficiency. "Hold on a minute."
Since we were so close to Earth, theHistoriacould log in to Earth's internet via the quantum relay, which Maddie used to full advantage. I watched her work, my heart hammering against my ribs as dread coiled tighter in my stomach.
Minutes later, a video materialized on screen, crisp and clear—Declan Hewes giving the commencement address at Oxford. He stood at a wooden podium with the university's prestigious crest gleaming behind him, appearing every inch the philanthropic billionaire. His tailored suit was perfect, his smile practiced and charming as he churned out words extolling hard work and boundless possibilities. I'd seen this speech before. It inspired me once.
Now it made my skin crawl.
It took only a second before recognition flashed across Diarvet's face. His eyes widened, his entire body going rigid as if he'd been struck. "That is the voice I heard," he said, and I caught the tremor beneath his words. "That is the male that Qurbaga called Master."
"That's what Ana called him, too," I murmured, my stomach lurching violently as the pieces clicked together with sickening clarity. The room seemed to tilt around me.
The Prime's golden eyes remained fixed on the video of Declan extolling the virtues of innovation and humanitarian progress, her gaze narrowing to dangerous slits. I wondered if she could see what I was only now beginning to understand—that every word from his mouth was poison wrapped in silk.
Silence descended over the room, broken only by the rhythmic drumming of Maddie's fingers against the tabletop.Each tap echoed like a metronome counting down to something terrible.
"His name is not Declan Hewes." The Prime's voice dropped to a low, reluctant register that made my pulse quicken. The golden glow in her eyes dimmed, shadows pooling in their depths like storm clouds gathering. "His name is Nigel Hewes. I have met him."
The words punched through me. "How?" I blurted before I could stop myself.
Her golden eyes studied me for what felt like an eternity, her expression unreadable as stone. When she finally spoke, her words rewrote everything I thought I knew about history. "Long before you were born, a Trogvyk ship crashed in a desert region of the United States."
"You're talking about Area 51, Roswell, New Mexico, in the 1940s," Maddie breathed, her eyes going wide as myth suddenly crystallized into history.
"I am," the Prime confirmed. "Nigel Hewes was one of the scientists brought in to study the wreckage." She sighed, the sound heavy and weary, as though regretting what came next. Her elegant shoulders sagged almost imperceptibly beneath her flowing robes. "At first, the Alliance council decided to leave the wreck alone, despite the fact that the crash gave humans advanced technology and members of the Trogvyk species to study—irrefutable proof that life beyond the stars existed. But it soon became apparent that humans would likely destroy themselves trying to decipher the technology, so we made contact." A faint smile played at the corners of her lips, softening her features in a way that made her seem almost wistful. "President Truman was a nice man. I liked him very much."
"But even today, most people label humans who believe in aliens as kooks," Maddie protested, her brow furrowing with confusion.
"Yes," the Prime agreed, her expression sobering once more. "Earth leadership made the decision to keep the contact between Earth and the Alliance quiet, for the safety of all citizens. Many Earth governments and the Alliance are still in close contact. There have been concessions on both sides. Trade agreements that have benefited both parties."
My stomach dropped like a stone as I thought of the eleven women found on Declan's compound. "What could Earth possibly have that you would want?" I pressed, dreading the answer.
"Not what you think," the Prime told me sharply, her golden eyes flashing with something that looked almost like offense. "Earth is a source of rare minerals and plant life. And all humans have benefited from our technologies."
"You really didn't believe we went from a rotary phone to handheld AI in a hundred years all by ourselves, did you?" Maddie chided, one eyebrow arching skeptically.
She had a point.
"Nigel was one of the engineers assigned to Area 51. He was brilliant, but ambitious," the Prime told us, her voice taking on a melancholy tone.
"Google says that Nigel was Declan's grandfather," Maddie announced, pulling up an image of three men on one of the large screens. They looked exactly alike, their faces separated only by the styling of hair and the fashion of their respective eras. "Oscar was Nigel's son and Declan's father."
"Then yourGoogleis mistaken," the Prime insisted, her voice hardened like steel. "Nigel, Oscar, and Declan are all the same man."
The words hung in the air, impossible and yet undeniable.
"Nigel is in league with the Trogvyk," Duke Ako rumbled, looking up from the documents he'd been perusing, his deepvoice thick with disdain. "He would have had access to a Garoot Healer."
