Later, I'm in an RV, recounting my entire story to the Brocks. It takes some time, but we get through the whole thing beginning with my podcast with Jim. There’s moments of expected awe, horror, and disbelief. Without an actual alien living inside my arm, I doubt I could have convinced them it was true. I know I’d have a hard time believing it.

“And that’s when you threw me into that trailer,” I say, wrapping it all up.

“And then, of course,” Xeno chimes in naturally with his usual commentary. “It was my idea to come and rescue you two. I practically had to drag Jack out of that trailer to confront those guys.”

I roll my eyes.

Belle, sitting across from me at the fold-out table next to her father, looks at me and tightens her lips to hold back a smile.

“Well, then we are deeply in debt to you, Xeno,” she says, a sparkle in her eye. “And you too, Jack.”

I just smile, unsure of what to say. Is that her foot touching my leg?

Doctor Brock has his elbows on the table, his head in his hands. He’s massaging his forehead, looking sunken and defeated. His daughter nudges him, and he looks up.

“Yes, thank you, Jack, and … Xeno, of course, for what you did. You saved our lives,” he says.

Gus huffs from the floor.

“And you too, Gus,” says Belle.

“Well, it was the right thing to do,” says Xeno.

Doctor Brock looks troubled. He picks up a pen from a plastic cup, twiddles with it, then drops it on the table. He looks out the window at the cloudy sky. It’s midday now, and the weather does not look favorable.

“Something on your mind, Doctor?” I ask.

He looks at me, as if seeing me for the first time. “What? Oh, please, just call me Ben. I’m not even a real doctor,” he says, and makes a dismissive gesture.

“Okay,” I say. “What’s on your mind, Ben?”

The old man hesitates, looks at his daughter, then back at me.

“It’s just … the crystal,” he says, then puts his hands out in front to emphasize. “Jack, you have to understand: even before that ship came crashing down, I’ve been building this community, this movement—all based around the idea that we could somehow learn how to utilize alien technology to better our lives. We fought and bled for that idea. And when we obtained this crystal, it felt like we were on to something. That it was a sign from God that we were on the right path.” He picks the pen back up and turns it this way and that, examining it. “Although it seems now a lot of people lost their lives because … because of a false assumption.”

Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

“You can’t think like that, Daddy,” says Belle. “You gave those people hope. You gave them community—a family. After the crash, and then the quakes. What did they have? Nothing. You gave them something to cling to.”

“And now half of them have left,” he says, making a fluttering motion with his fingers. “Scattered to the winds once again.”

“Doctor Bro—Ben,” I say. “If I can say something here?”

He looks at me, and I see wetness in his eyes now.

I clear my throat. “I heard a quote once when I was a kid: ‘God always answers our prayers, but in his own time, and rarely in the way we want him to.’”

Ben squints at me.

“Jack, since when did you get religion?” says Xeno, unhelpfully.

“That crystal,” I say, ignoring Xeno, “may not be what you thought it was. But perhaps the answer you were looking for wasn’t in the crystal. Maybe the crystal was guiding you to this very spot, like it was guiding me. So that we could meet and save these people together.”

Ben’s left eye twitches.

Belle looks at her dad, then back at me.

“Look at it this way,” I say, putting my own elbows on the table. “If you hadn't fought for control of the crystal, we never would have met. That crystal led all of us here—for different reasons, but the result is the same. Your job was to gather them. And now it’s my turn … to send them on to where they’re supposed to be.”

There’s a moment of silence. I sit back and let that statement settle in.

Ben looks at my hand, then up at me. “Is there anyway to … confirm, to prove that they are actually going to a better place after—”

“Oh, for the progenitors’ sake!” says Xeno, “Not this topic again.”

I hold up a hand, or rather, hold my hand down.

“Let me answer your question with a question of my own, Ben,” I say, leaning forward again. “Can you prove that God exists? Or doesn’t for that matter?”

Ben studies me for a good, long moment. Then the sides of his lips slowly turn up into a smile.

“Faith,” he finally says, nodding.

I nod back. “Faith.”

I look at Belle. Her expression has changed, into what I can’t say. But it’s in part making me nervous and in part making the butterflies in my stomach do summersaults.

“Okay, Jack,” says Ben with a sigh. “You have me. I’m onboard. I see no other way. I’m still concerned about how this revelation will be received, however.”

“Xeno here once told me that it’s not necessarily what you say that counts, but how you say it that does the convincing.”

“I did?” says Xeno. “I mean, of course I did. I can often be very wise when it comes to language and speaking.”

“Right,” I say, “That means we need to make a big show of it. A spectacle. Otherwise people will … ”

“Revolt?” says Xeno. “Rebel? Mutiny? Burn you at the stake and feast on your entrails?”

“I … I was going to say freak out,” I say. “Gross, by the way.”

Ben and Belle look at each other, then at me. “Any ideas?” says Ben.

“I do, actually, have a few,” I say, with a smile. “Tell me what you think about this plan …”