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aged hand pointed at the large cardboard box on the floor. “I’m an old man and I can’t eat all of this by myself.” He watched me intently as I grabbed another slice and maneuvered it onto the damp plate. “I saw some more news at the pizza place. Everyone’s got a television up for people to watch while they wait.”
    I froze, a long string of melted cheese stretching from my mouth to the plate. “How bad?”
    “Well…” David leaned back, rubbing his chin. “Right now it’s at a sort of standstill. The United Nations has called a special meeting to get everyone together—that is whoever doesn’t mind meeting under the shadow of that huge fat ship. There’s been no fighting for a few hours.”
    “Nothing?”
    “Well, the U.S. military lobbed a few shells at the one sitting over Seattle and they bounced off, doing more damage when they fell back to the ground than the aliens did. A few strafing runs by aircraft, but it doesn’t look like anyone is really doing more than just posturing for the press. Not after seeing so many heroes fall.” He took another sip of the cooling tea. “Funny thing is the alien guys, they’re not advancing. Not attacking the cities, not attacking the airplanes, no demands, no nothing. The fellows went back inside the ships after the fighting stopped—which is a good thing, I guess.”
    “Yeah.” I nodded. “Explains a lot.”
    The man slumped into his chair. “You going to explain this all?”
    “I’ve got a theory. But first I have to get Jessie working on something, otherwise it’s not going to matter what I think.”
    As if on cue a rapping came at the front door of the bookstore, bringing us both to our feet. David pointed at my chair, shaking his head.
    “I’ll get it. Best not to tempt fate by having too many people see you.”
    I responded by finishing off the pizza slice in my hand as he walked out of sight.
    Out of curiosity I raised my free hand and collected a few of the waves floating around—the books, the table, even the Brown Betty. Clenching my teeth, I focused the electrical energy onto my fingertips, a new trick I had been working on with Mike’s direction.
    “But I like the gloves,” I had protested, stealing the Sunday comics from his side of the table.
    “Sure, they make it easier to do stuff if you’ve got them on.” He glanced over the business section. “But what if you don’t have them on?”
    “Like when?” I snorted. “We’re always given time to suit up before a performance.”
    “Yeah. But what if…” His dark chocolate hand reached around the paper to grab the last croissant off the plate, showing off his wristband. “I’m just saying.”
    I felt a shiver down my spine, staring at the thin metal band, the recessed number pad and button almost out of sight. Mike never made a threat, never mentioned it, but it hung between us like a warped Damocles’ sword. My eyes narrowed. “You know something I don’t know?”
    He lowered the paper an inch, meeting my stare. “I know lots of things you don’t know, girl. I’m your Guardian.” His tone was low and serious. “Don’t forget that.” The paper made a shuffling sound as he raised it up again, hiding his face. “Just think about it. Be a nice trick for the audience, hmm?”
    A blue spark leapt from my index finger to my thumb. Only a small one, hardly enough to do much more than shock a person with the intensity of someone shuffling his feet along the carpet, but it was a start.
    “Jo?” A man appeared in the narrow hallway. “Jo Tanis?” He stretched out his hand as I got to my feet and tossed the afghan to one side.
    “Jessie?” When I had last seen Jessie Kellup he had been a gangly young man just starting into adulthood, falling over himself as he tried to figure out girls and computers and why they weren’t more alike. Now he was a tall strapping man in his twenties, ten years younger than me, with a flaming head of red hair that women would die to run