"Uh-uh." Liz grabbed another pillow and re-formed the barricade. "Have you thought about the fact that if you'd stayed connected longer, the molecules of your brain could have been separated from each other, too? Then what? How would you have had the capacity to realize anything? How would you have been able to focus and squeeze without a mind?"

"I hadn't thought of that," Max admitted. Count on Liz to zero in on the most important piece of information. "I bet it would feel amazing, though. I panicked when my memories started to dissolve into the consciousness. But for the three seconds before I freaked, it was… I can't even come up with the right words to describe it."

"Are you going to do it again?" Liz asked.

Was he going to do it again? He had to do it again. Now that he knew it was possible, he couldn't go through the rest of his life without ever allowing himself to experience being part of something monumental, a living entity of cosmic proportions.

Liz wrapped her arms around herself. "You are. I can see it in your face."

He didn't have to ask what she thought. Yellow tendrils of fear were spreading through her aura. A couple of crimson splotches of anger had sprouted, too.

"It's like I've discovered a whole new world, and I have to explore it. The only way I'll really be able to do that is by giving myself over to it, becoming it," Max said, struggling to express how he felt about the consciousness.

"Even if it means you won't ever come back to this world? To me?" Liz asked.

Her voice was steady, but he thought he glimpsed the sheen of unshed tears in her eyes. "That would never happen," he promised. "You're what would bring me back. Even if my molecules were spread out from here to whatever galaxy my home planet is in, that wouldn't stop me. All my molecules would be like little homing pigeons. They'd all zoom to you, and then I'd re-form."

"That's very romantic and all, but I don't think there's any scientific basis for your theory," Liz answered. But a few of the crimson splotches disappeared from her aura.

"Wait. I've got it," Max said. "I'll use Michael or Isabel as a spotter the next time. Then if I do disappear completely and have no way of squeezing myself back together, they can do it for me." He ran his hand across the pillow separating them. "Can I get rid of this now? My molecules are really missing your molecules."

Liz snatched up the pillow and tossed it over the back of the sofa. Max didn't need an engraved invitation. He slid his hands along the curve of her waist. He loved the feel of her. Could not get enough.

He was not at all happy to hear the front door open with a bang. He'd been counting on a lot more alone time with Liz. He leaned back and saw Isabel coming down the hall.

"Hey, Izzy, come here a minute," he called. "I want to try something, and I need your help." He turned to Liz. "This way you can be here to see how the molecule thing happens. When Iz helps me re-form, you can tell me how it looked."

Isabel started through the living room without a word. Max reached out and snagged her by the wrist as she passed him. "Come on, it won't take long. I need you to make a connection with me, and-"

Isabel turned to him with piercing eyes and gave him a hard shove. He flew through the air and slammed into the wall next to the fireplace.

Liz rushed over and helped Max to his feet. "Are you okay? What happened?" she asked.

"I'm all right," he answered. He turned to his sister. "Why the hell did you do that?" He and Isabel had had a lot of fights. But they had always had reasons, and Isabel had never been able to physically overwhelm him. Even when she used power.

Isabel didn't answer. She just stared at him, eyes round and blank.

Max strode over to her. "Start talking, Isabel," he ordered.

Isabel gave a breathy squeaking sound. And then she collapsed.

"Help me get her to the sofa," Max called. Liz was at his side in an instant. Gently they carried Isabel around to the sofa and lowered her down.

"Is she unconscious?" Liz asked.

Max knelt next to the sofa and reached for his sister's hand. Before he could touch her, she struggled into a sitting position.

"Maybe you should lie back down," Liz said.

Isabel shook her head. "No, it's okay. I'm okay." She shoved her hair out of her face, then slowly raised her eyes to Max's. "I'm sorry. I can't believe I did that to you. It's just that when you touched me… " A shudder swept through Isabel's body.

Liz sat down next to her and wrapped her arm around Isabel's shoulders. Isabel flinched away, but Liz held on tight. "Did something happen at the museum?"

The museum! Max felt like such an idiot. He should have known the second Isabel opened the front door that something was wrong. She wasn't due home until morning. They'd given their parents this whole cover story about how she was spending the night with Maria.

"Was it Adam?" he asked. His rib cage suddenly felt too small, as if the bones were crushing his heart and lungs. "Did something happen with Adam?"

Isabel nodded. "I went in his room to check on him. He grabbed my arm and made a connection." She stopped and cleared her throat. "It was like my brain was ripping apart." Her aura darkened, a rim of black forming around the outside.

"You're safe now. You're home," Max told her. He knew he should have stayed at the museum. What was he thinking, coming back here for a little make-out session? He stood up. "I'm taking care of this. Adam isn't going to get the chance to hurt anyone else."

"Michael said he was going to put sleeping pills in his food to make sure he stays out. He wants us all to meet tomorrow to figure out what to do now," Isabel said. "But Max, it's not Adam. I've connected with Adam before, and it wasn't him. There's something… something.…"

Her eyes drifted shut, her breathing becoming slow and even.

"I can't believe it," Max whispered. "She fell asleep."

"How about that girl over by the fountain?" Maria asked.

Alex leaned over the polished metal railing of the mall's upper deck and checked out the girl. Wavy hair that fell almost to her waist, nice waist, nice everything else. "Yeah, she's pretty, I guess," he said.

He realized that somewhere along the line his way of looking at girls had changed. Now they ail fell into two categories-Isabel and not Isabel. That's basically all he saw when he looked at the girl by the fountain. A not Isabel.

"So go talk to her," Maria urged. "Go give her one of your goofy lines. What was that one you told me, something about you have to arrest her for stealing the stars from the sky and putting them in her eyes? She'll love it."

Isabel had loved it. Well, it had made her laugh at least.

"Go on. You can do it. A-lex! A-lex! A-lex!" she chanted.

So she's a not Isabel, he thought. That's what you want. Someone who might treat you slightly better than a human-shaped doormat.

But there was one problem with the not Isabel. She was… not Isabel.

Alex shook his head. "I can tell from here that it just wouldn't work," he said. "See that sweeping gesture she's making with her hand? It's obvious that her greatest ambition in life is to be a game show hostess. Which is cool. I mean, who wouldn't want to be a game show hostess, right?"

"Right," Maria answered. "And who wouldn't enjoy talking to a wanna-be game show hostess, if that is what she is? So go."

"The thing is that while most guys would love to talk to a soon-to-be game show hostess, I have this phobia. I don't really like to discuss it, but hey, we're friends, so here's the deal-when I'm in the presence of someone with even the slightest look of a game show hostess about her, I panic. I start trying to buy vowels. I start demanding valuable prizes. And I put everything in the form of a question. It's not pretty."