John nods solemnly, glancing in Five’s direction. “Yeah. I’d call it a draw. I’ll bring you both up to speed, but first . . .” John’s gaze moves to my dad. “Sam, is this who I think it is?”

My smile grows again. It feels like I’ve been waiting years to introduce my friends to my dad. “Guys,” I say, pride in my voice, “this is my father, Malcolm. I can confirm that he’s definitely not Setrákus Ra either, if you’re worried about that.”

My dad steps forward, shaking hands with each of the Garde and Sarah.

“Thanks for the help out there,” John says, motioning to my dad’s rifle. “Glad you brought some hardware.”

“Looked like you had it under control,” my dad tells John. “I’ve just wanted to shoot something Mogadorian for a very long time.”

“Under control,” chuckles Six, shaking her head. “Looked to me like you were about to get swallowed, John.”

“So, it wasn’t my best plan.” John shrugs, smiling. Sarah pats him on the back encouragingly.

Five is studying my dad and me. “You’re not Loric,” he says matter-of-factly, like he’s just put it together. “I thought for sure you must be a Cêpan, being so old and all.”

My dad chuckles. “Sorry to disappoint. Just an old human, hoping to help.”

Five turns to look at John, nodding. “You’ve got a real army here.”

Six and I exchange a look. I’m not really sure if this new guy is being sarcastic or if he’s really just kind of dense. Judging by her face, Six isn’t sure either.

“There’s the six of us here, and four waiting for us back in Chicago,” John says patiently. “I don’t think ten people really qualifies us for army status, but thanks.”

“I guess not,” mumbles Five.

“I want to hear everything about how you guys found each other,” John says. He looks at my dad almost cautiously, like he just knocked on our family’s door and asked if I could come out and play alien invasion. “First, Mr. Goode, I just want you to know that I never meant for Sam to get wrapped up in all this. I’m sorry I’ve put him in danger, but I don’t think we would’ve made it this far without him.”

“Definitely not,” Six agrees, smiling at me. I look away, feeling a blush creeping up my cheeks.

My dad looks touched. “Putting ourselves in danger for the safety of Earth is a Goode family tradition. But thank you for saying that.” He rests a hand on my shoulder. “I’m glad you found each other. And drop the ‘mister’—Malcolm will do just fine.”

There are sirens nearby, drawing closer. We might be in a rural part of Arkansas, but the local authorities would definitely notice a spaceship crashing out of the sky. They’ll be here soon.