The blur of movement that is Jacob Gabriel grabs Dave Mohr by his wrist, yanking the scientist inside the starship.

Lilith lands awkwardly atop the crowd. ‘Jacob!’ She scrambles to her feet. ‘Damn you, Jacob …’ She slips inside the nexus.

Jacob pulls Dave Mohr to his feet. ‘You okay?’

The scientist nods. ‘What happened?’

‘No time to explain, just hold on.’

A low rumbling sound, like a generator, echoes throughout the hangar, quickly increasing to a dull thunder.

The gantry trembles, sending the crowd rushing toward the nearest exits.

Lilith is flung free of the nexus as the long-dormant engines of the Balam power up. An invisible wave of electromagnetic energy is expelled from beneath the hull, blasting bodies, equipment, and ten years of dust in all directions.

Beneath this cushion of energy, the alien starship rises. Dorsal plates punch upward through the roof. Steel beams and metal sheeting tumble like kindling.

Lilith pulls herself free from beneath the fallen gantry and looks up, screaming her outrage, as the starship Balam disappears into the approaching gray storm clouds of Super-Cane Kenneth.

Delray Beach, Florida
11:37 p.m.

One-hundred-thirty-mile-an-hour gusts whip through the deserted streets of Dade, Broward, and Palm Beach Counties, announcing the arrival of Super-Cane Kenneth’s outer wind bands. The once-tranquil ocean swells thirty-five feet, the storm surge submerging the beach before pouring over sea walls to inundate scenic highway A-1-A. Waves lap against storefronts. A driving rain lashes palm fronds and debris, turning refuse into miniature missiles.

And the superstorm’s eye is still nine hours out to sea.

Cuddling beneath the blanket, Immanuel Gabriel curls his naked body around Lauren, nuzzling her neck, while outside, fierce winds hammer the steel hurricane storm shutters.

‘I feel safe in your arms,’ Lauren whispers.

‘I missed you.’

‘Why you were at the Cape?’

‘I was … visiting a relative.’

She rolls over to face him. ‘Who?’

‘My mother. My biological mother.’

‘I don’t understand?’

‘Lauren, I was adopted. I never told you about it because, well, I sort of wrote them out of my life long ago.’

She sits up. ‘Them?’

‘I have a brother. I saw him this week for the first time in six years. He has problems, mental problems. My mother may have to put him in an asylum. That’s why I had to come up to the Cape this week. She wanted me to see him before he’s locked away.’

‘I don’t know what to say. Are you okay with all this?’

‘Guess I’m a little screwed up.’

‘Can I meet them?’

‘Someday.’

She lays her head on his chest. ‘All this time, I had this terrible premonition you were getting ready to leave me.’

He swallows the lump in his throat. ‘I’m not leaving you.’

‘Promise?’

The wind howls outside and he hugs her tighter. ‘I’m not leaving you, Lauren. I promise.’

Hope Control Room, MTI Operational Headquarters,
Cocoa Beach, Florida
Saturday
2:35 a.m.