"Do you want something to eat?" his mom asked. "Or do you want to take a nap? You must be exhausted."

To Alex's horror, tears were spilling down his mother's face. In the Manes family, you were supposed to pretty much pretend that nothing got to you. The Major was the champion of that, and he expected them all to follow his example.

His father set his bags on the table, then took Alex's mom by the shoulders and gently pulled her away from Alex.

"Why don't you go freshen up?" he said. "I'll make scrambled eggs for all of us."

"I… all right." His mother snagged a paper towel off the roll over the sink and swabbed at her eyes as she hurried out of the room.

"Grab that stuff off the floor and stick some bread in the toaster, would you?" the Major asked.

Good to see you, too, Alex thought as he crouched down and picked up the bags of groceries and the cookies. He dropped everything on the table, then started rooting around in the closest bag for bread.

What the hell am I doing?

Alex let his hands fall to his sides. "I know that you know where I really was," he told his father. "I know you're Clean Slate."

The Major nodded. He stepped around Alex and pulled a carton of eggs out of the fridge, then he strode to the stove and pulled a frying pan out of the cabinet underneath it.

"I assume your memory was cleaned before you were sent back," he said. He cracked an egg into the pan, then another.

"You assume correctly," Alex muttered. His father didn't tell him to speak up the way he usually did.

"I want you to get yourself checked out by a doctor. Just a precaution." His father cracked two more eggs, studied the pan, and then added three more. "Get me a fork."

Alex handed him a wooden spoon. "You don't want to burn your fingers."

"Thanks." The Major began to stir the eggs vigorously. "I've been thinking about the ROTC."

I haven't been home even half an hour, and he's already ragging on me, Alex thought. He doesn't care what happened to me. All he cares about is getting the bragging rights to having four sons in the military.

"You're old enough to take care of yourself," his father continued. He reached for the pepper with his free hand, still stirring with the other. "If you don't want to go into the program, it's your call."

Alex held very still. He wasn't sure, but he thought the Major had just told Alex that he missed him or that he was proud of him. Or maybe even that he loved him.

"That means a lot to me," Alex finally answered. It seemed like the right coded response to his father's coded message.

Alex turned around and pulled the bread out of one of the grocery bags. He took out six pieces and stuck four in the toaster.

"Dad, before Mom comes back, I need you to tell me what the story is with Clean Slate," Alex said, staring down at the coils in the toaster as they turned from black to orange. "I mean, will you be going after my friends now?"

"Project Clean Slate is classified to the highest level," the Major answered. "But I will tell you that your friends have nothing to fear from us."

"And that's all you can say-even to me?" Alex challenged.

"Yes," his father said evenly. "Hand me some plates."

Alex pulled three plates out of the cabinet and passed them over. The toast popped up, and he added slices next to the eggs his father was dishing out. A moment later he heard his mothers heels clicking toward them. He didn't have much more time alone with his dad.

"I just want to say thanks for trying to get me back," he blurted out.

The Major turned to Alex and waited until Alex met his gaze. "I would do anything to keep you safe," his father answered, his voice coming out choked and harsh. "Anything. Don't you know that?"

I do now, Alex thought.

"I'm thinking I should go through a wormhole and back," Maria told Liz as they drove to the Crashdown Cafe for their afternoon shift.

"Why?" Liz asked. She reached over and pulled the wheel a little to the right. Maria had the tendency to let the car drift into the wrong lane when she got caught up in what she was saying.

"Because did you see how great Alex looked?" Maria asked. "Shampoo-commercial hair, soap-commercial skin. He even seemed a little more muscle-y or something. And Michael's brother? He could be on a billboard. I wouldn't mind seeing him a hundred feet tall."

Liz made another small adjustment to the wheel. "If we ever figure out how to open a wormhole ourselves, we can start a spa. The Wormhole Ranch, specializing in space travel facials. You could give aromatherapy sessions, too."

"Maybe," Maria said. "Although I wouldn't mind keeping the wormhole as my personal beauty secret. And yours, I guess." She snorted as she pulled into the Crashdown's parking lot. "Like you need it. Look at you. It's no wonder you ended up with the perfect boyfriend."

My amazing boyfriend who practically goes into a coma while we're kissing, Liz thought, climbing out of the car. "Well, Michael's brother is up for grabs," she commented.

"Yeah, if I can't have the real thing, why not take the fat-free version?" Maria joked. They headed toward the restaurant.

"Next time I see Michael, I'm telling him you think he's fat," Liz teased. She pushed open the door, and the first few bars of the Close Encounters theme played. But the sound was almost obscured by the music coming out of her papa's office.

"Oh no." Maria gasped. "That's The Doors, isn't it? Are we late?"

Liz checked her watch. "Not late enough." Her papa only played The Doors when he was in a heinously bad mood. So whatever had his boxers in a bunch was big.

Before she and Maria were halfway to the counter, her papa burst out of his office. No, not big, she realized when she saw his face. Make that enormous. Make that nuclear.

You'd think that a guy who walked around in Grateful Dead T-shirts with his hair in a ponytail would be laid-back. But no. Liz's father had a quick temper-and he wasn't afraid to show it.

"Your mother came in for lunch today," Mr. Ortecho told Maria as she and Liz headed toward the storage room in back that doubled as a changing room.

"Uh, that's nice," Maria said nervously. She stopped in front of him, shifting from one foot to the other.

Liz wondered if Maria was nervous because the throbbing vein in her papa's temple looked like it was about to erupt or if she was nervous because she'd figured out the same thing Liz had-Liz's father had found out that their weekend trip to the Carlsbad Caverns had been completely adult-free.

Mr. Ortecho took a step toward Maria. Maria backed a step away.

"She said it was so nice of me to take you two and your friends to the Caverns," he continued.

I got it in one, Liz thought. What am I going to say to him? It's not like I can say that I absolutely had to go to the Caverns to try and bring Alex back home from another planet.

"Which means you both lied to me and to her," Mr. Ortecho said.

"We really needed to-" Maria began, taking another step back.

"Enough," Mr. Ortecho barked. "There's no excuse for what you did, and I don't want to listen to you try to come up with one." He turned his full attention on Liz, his eyes glittering dangerously. "What I want to know is what else you've been lying about."

Liz glanced behind her at the dining room. At least the only customer was Mr. Orndorff, and he probably had his hearing aid turned off.

"Nothing," Liz promised him. It wasn't completely true, but it was mainly true. Yes, there had been other nights that she'd had to lie about where she'd been, like the night they drove to Albuquerque to get Isabel and Adam away from DuPris. But she'd never been doing any of the things she knew her papa was worried about her doing-like drinking, like drugs, like following in her sister Rosa's footsteps.