Because we were so involved in getting things set up for the strays, we opted to stay in Palo Alto for winter break. We figured that we could spare a couple of days for a quick trip to Fallbrook to be with Mom and Tiff, but otherwise we needed to stay local.

Michael and Hakan had been very busy putting up posters in the Night Children language all over the Bay Area, mainly in parts of town that seemed likely to hide any others of their kind. By making themselves very visible the two of them had attracted the attention of a few other strays, and we soon had a half-dozen who were willing to accept Emmy’s offer of her shadow.

Our requirements were simple, and first and foremost the new members of our little tribe had to ditch the makeup and quit hiding. A couple had jobs already, and we encouraged them to reveal themselves to their co-workers and see what happened. We gave them a story for them to explain themselves to everybody, that they were members of a small minority that had suffered persecution for centuries and had learned to hide themselves. It wasn’t the full truth, but it certainly wasn’t a lie, either.

Those who didn’t have jobs we sent out on the recruitment missions with Michael and Hakan until we could find them some kind of work.

Finding housing was easy enough, but teaching some of them how to live a ‘normal’ life was an enormous challenge. They’d been hiding and living off the scraps of society for so long that they could conceive of no other way of living.

Emmy and I were relaxing in the tub, enjoying our soapy time after a long day when something occurred to me. “Em, maybe you’re going about this the wrong way.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, contentedly leaning back into me and gently splashing some water onto her chest. “Doing what wrong?”

“Trying to bring your people into the mainstream. I mean, I don’t think what you are doing is wrong or not working. It’s just, well, maybe there might be a quicker, more effective approach.”

“What do you have in mind?” she asked, intrigued.

“Well, maybe a top-down method might work better. I mean, you’re trying to get the strays out there in public, right? To get daylighters used to seeing them, right?” When Emmy nodded, I continued. “Maybe you need to reach a wider audience.”

“A wider audience?” Emmy repeated, not sure what I meant.

“Yeah,” I said. “If everybody in the nation got used to seeing a Night Child on T.V., then it would come as no big deal when they saw one in person. You could do it, Emmy. You’re amazingly talented, beautiful, and very charming. If anybody can put a good face on our new neighbors, it would be you.”

“Me, on T.V.? How would I go about getting on T.V.?”

“I don’t know, maybe audition for Dancing With The Stars, or American Idol or something. That’s the part of the plan I haven’t worked out yet,” I confessed.

“And what would I do on T.V.?” Emmy inquired, sighing as I wrapped my arms around her middle.

“I’m not sure it matters, really. Just be yourself. What I mean is, if people see you on T.V. and you’re pretty, charming and nice (which of course you are) then they’ll associate your looks with positive traits, right? I mean, you’ll be the first one like you they’ll ever have seen, so you’ll set the tone.”

“Yes, you may be right. I have been trying to do something like that for years, but just with the people I have come in contact with. If I could reach, as you say, a wider audience, then the process would be that much faster,” Emmy agreed, contemplating the idea.

We were both lost in our own thoughts for a few minutes, when I gave her a squeeze. “I’ve got it,” I said. “Start a band.”

“A band? A musical group?” Emmy asked, wondering where I was going with it.

“Yeah. Back in San Diego everybody loved seeing you perform, right?” When Emmy nodded that she was listening, I continued. “You remember that review in the newspaper? That guy reviews music for a living, and he thought you were headed for the big time, right? So start a band of your own. Play as much as you can until you get noticed, which shouldn’t be too long. Make music videos, tour, do interviews, whatever, as long as it gets you in the public eye. Then, when you’re famous and everybody knows who you are, you can use the publicity to bring the Children into the light.” I was excited by this idea, and really thought it could work.

“I imagine that also, if I did become famous, it could help draw more strays into the fold, too,” Emmy granted, thinking the plan through.

Emmy turned around, facing me in the tub. Looking me straight in the eyes, she added “It could mean greater risks, too, Leah. You do realize that, I hope.”

“Yeah,” I conceded. “I suppose so. But you said you wanted to do whatever was necessary, and I agreed to do it with you. If it means we need to have Edouard work for you instead of your mom, well, that’s the price we’d have to pay.”

“You… you would support me in this?” Emmy asked.

“Don’t sound so surprised, Em. I said I would do whatever it took, and I meant it. You’re my princess, right? My princess,” I emphasized. “But I’m willing to share you a little bit with the adoring public.”

Emmy laughed that musical little laugh of hers and leaned in. “You are so generous,” she said, then the kissing started and the talking was done.

One thing that I really have to hand Emmy- when she decides on a plan of action she doesn’t mess around. By the end of the day Monday she’d put up notices on practically every bulletin board on campus looking for musicians for her new band, promising good pay for dedicated effort.

She also put up notices in the music department looking for songwriters, offering to pay cash money for their songs. Interestingly, she also put up the same notices in the English department but she reworded the notice to appeal to poetry writers. “I am not imaginative with words,” Emmy had explained to me. “Why not avail myself of the creativity of others?”

She also rented a rehearsal space, which was a small commercial warehouse about six blocks from our house. It had a small office in front and a large open area in back with a big roll-up garage door, designed for some kind of small business. The neighbors were a welding shop and a silkscreen printing business, both of which closed at five in the afternoon. Perfect for rehearsals, Emmy said. I could think of all sorts of other uses for the space, too. We could set up a gym and workout area, I suggested. We could also use it for meetings of Emmy’s strays, since the commercial development was practically deserted after dark.

Armed with these ideas, Emmy found a contractor to do the work we needed to the space and within a couple of weeks it was done. The office walls were removed to make it one large room (plus bathroom, of course). One long wall was completely mirrored but the others were covered with that egg-carton foam stuff you see in pictures of recording studios. Half of the floor was left polished concrete, which was stained rust red then varnished. The other half had a wood dance floor, with a barre installed on the mirrored side. Heavy sound-absorbent floor to ceiling drapes slid on a rod to divide the two halves or open it up as desired. I thought it was amazing empty, but when the sound system, workout equipment and lighting got installed it was absolutely incredible.

Emmy had been taking the names and phone numbers of potential band members, and when the rehearsal space was ready she scheduled auditions. She asked me to help evaluate the candidates and there was no getting out of it no matter how much I protested that I had no clue about music.

“It does not matter,” she’d said. “All that matters is that you like what you hear, or you do not. Also, I would like you to evaluate them personally, to see if you think that they would work out.”

With that logic I reasoned that the more opinions the merrier, so I twisted Kerry’s arm and got her to commit to helping us as well. When I mentioned it to Donny, he volunteered, too. I figured that if two heads are better than one, four must be twice as good as that, right?

While Emmy and Kerry got a the space set up for the auditions, Donny and I went and got snacks and refreshments for the thirty-some-odd musicians we expected.

“This BMW is incredible,” Donny said, admiring the SUV. I’d gotten used to driving it by that point and didn’t even really think about it anymore, but when Donny asked about things like the paddle shifters and the heads-up display I had to admit I really didn’t know much about any of that stuff at all.

“I just drive it, that’s all,” I admitted sheepishly. “I’m just bummed it only gets about fifteen miles per gallon. Our Mini gets about twice as good a mileage.”

“Yeah, but this is twice the car,” Donny said, practically drooling on the seats.

“I’ll tell you what. After we’re done shopping, you get to drive it back. How’s that?” I suggested. The gleam in Donny’s eyes let me know the idea was well received, and he was very motivated to get everything on our shopping list as quickly as possible.

At every stoplight he couldn’t help but rev the engine. “Just listen to that!” he’d say, but I just rolled my eyes. He was such a guy sometimes.

When we got back to the rehearsal studio there were already a few of the early appointments waiting for things to start. Emmy had told them that there wouldn’t be any auditions until we got back, and that was that.

When Donny and I started unloading the goodies a couple of the hopefuls volunteered to help out and carried stuff inside for us. Points in their favor, I thought to myself. The two other guys that didn’t offer to help at all? Negative points to them.

When everything got set up and people helped themselves to the munchies, Emmy gathered the musicians together and explained how it was going to be.

“I am looking for two or three musicians for a band I am assembling. I need a drummer, a bass player and perhaps a keyboard player. There will be requirements for practice times, and soon, music video filming. We will schedule public performances also, as I get them lined up. I expect a substantial commitment, and I also expect substantial commercial success for the project. I have contracts written up and I expect you to look them over to make certain that you are comfortable with the arrangements,” Emmy announced, handing out copies of the paperwork.

“So, let me get this straight,” the guy wearing the Arcade Fire T-shirt I’d already taken a dislike to said. “So are you just hiring us as backup musicians, or will this be a real band in the sense of mutual cooperation?”

“That is an excellent question,” Emmy replied. “I hope that there will be collaboration, and feel that if the right selections are made tonight then we could well be on our way to that goal. The contract, if you will look it over, indicates some degree of equality in partnership, but it also includes language to protect your investment of time and effort by guaranteeing you recompense for your time, regardless of eventual success. I expect to bear the risk, and the bulk of the reward. I think that is only fair.”

“So, you’re hiring us as musicians for your project, but we’ll get relatively equal billing?” a dark-haired goth-looking woman asked.

“And relatively equal reward,” agreed Emmy. “I see this as my project, but I would prefer it to be a partnership rather than a simple employer/employee relationship.”

This seemed to be clear enough, and the gathered musicians took a few minutes to look over the paperwork, occasionally asking questions about this detail or that. Others slowly trickled in, and Emmy greeted them and explained what they had missed.

At eight o’clock, Emmy announced it was time to start and called the first names on the list. The auditions went well past midnight, and I was tired, and sick of hearing the same three songs over and over. “Let’s clean up tomorrow, O.K.?” I pleaded, but Donny just said he’d take care of it, and to my amazement he did. Even at that late an hour he was a whirlwind, taking out all the trash and bagging up whatever was left over from the snack stuff, which Kerry took home.

We agreed to meet the next day to talk about whom our favorites were, then Emmy and I drove Donny back to the dorms and went home. I crawled straight into bed, but Emmy stayed up a bit longer to listen to the tapes of the auditions. I was so wiped out I didn’t even notice when she finally came to bed a couple of hours later.

I had been in the habit of hitting the gym early on Sundays, but just didn’t feel like it that morning. I called Donny and asked him if he’d like to meet me for coffee, since Emmy was not about to wake up any time soon.

Sipping our delicious caffeinated beverages, Donny got a serious look on his face. “Leah?” he began, but it was clear he wasn’t sure how to break the subject he wanted to talk about. “Um, about Emmy…” he continued.

“Yeah?”

“You know, I’ve spent a lot of time with you guys the last few weeks since the term started, and almost a whole week with you two over the break.”

“Sure,” I prompted, wondering where he was going with this.

“Well, I’ve noticed things about Emmy. I mean, some things are really hard not to notice, like the color of her skin, and her hair, right? But I’ve noticed other things, too.” Donny was turning red, embarrassed by his boldness in bringing it up.

“Such as?” I asked, wondering how much he’d figured out.

“Well, every photo I took of you two that used a flash you got red eye, which is normal, right? I mean, you’ve got blue eyes, and that’s just what happens, right? It happens to me all the time. But her eyes don’t reflect red like everybody else’s in pictures. Her eyes glow bright green, like a cat’s do.”

“Well, her eyes are an amazing green, Donny. What do you expect?”

“No, that’s not it. I mean, her eyes are really green, sure, but it’s more than that,” Donny said, looking awkward. “After I noticed it in the pictures, I started paying attention. Emmy has amazing night vision, Leah. She’s like a cat or something.”

“Donny, look at me,” I commanded. When he looked me straight in the eyes, I asked him, as seriously as I could, “This is a secret. You absolutely cannot tell anyone, ever. O.K.?”

The look on his face almost made me break out laughing, but I held it in. When he nodded that he agreed, I said “I should tell you, since you seem to be on the verge of figuring it out for yourself.”

“What? Oh, man, I knew there was something really different about her. You know, I looked up ‘reverse albinism’ and couldn’t find any references anywhere. I even asked some of the genetics professors about it, and none of them had ever heard of such a thing.”

“Well, this is really important you don’t tell anyone, Donny. Really, really important. What I’m about to tell you, you can’t tell anyone, all right? Swear?”

“I swear,” he replied, anticipation on his face.

“O.K. Here it is,” I said, savoring the moment. “Emmy is really…”

“What? Emmy is really a what?” Donny demanded.

“Emmy is really an alien from the planet Tralfalmadore,” I announced. “No, that’s not it,” I said, trying to look pensive. “Maybe she said she was a vampire? Yeah, that might be it,” I said, confidently.

Unable to stifle it anymore, I broke out laughing at the look on Donny’s face.

“Shit!” Donny exclaimed, giving me a shove. “You had me all wound up there!”

Once we stopped laughing, I said “Look. This really is a secret, and you really can’t tell anyone. Not that anybody would believe you, anyhow.”

Donny got all serious again, waiting to hear what I had to say.

“All joking aside, Emmy really isn’t like you and me. You figured out she has good night vision, but it’s even more than that. She can see in the complete dark. You remember in Bio last term, the prof used the phrase ‘dark adapted’ when he was discussing bats? Well, that’s what Emmy is. She’s evolved to live in the dark.”

“Evolved? What do you mean?” he asked, looking puzzled.

“Donny, this is absolutely, no joke important that this stays a secret. Absolutely.”

“I’m not going to tell anyone,” Donny promised, so I continued.

“Emmy isn’t human, Don. Not like you and me. She calls her people ‘Homo Nocturnis’, and they evolved parallel to us homo sapiens, but they’re night dwellers.”

“How come I’ve never heard of this?” he demanded, disbelieving.

“They hide, Donny. They are all around us, but we never see them. In fact, I personally know at least a dozen who live here in the Bay Area, and that’s hardly any compared to places in the Old World like Paris or Istanbul, where I guess there are maybe a few thousand.”

“How can they stay hidden, then? How come nobody’s ever seen them?”

“You might have seen some of them and not known it,” I replied. “They only come out at night when it’s hard for us to see them, and they usually wear makeup to hide their black skin. The first time I ever saw some of them that were wearing makeup I had no idea what they were, and I even knew about Emmy by that point.”

“How come nobody’s ever displayed a dead body of one of them for the world to see?”

“That’s an answer I don’t have for you,” I admitted. “But if you want to meet some more besides Emmy, it can be arranged. As I said, I know about a dozen in the area.”

“O.K., I’m going with the reverse albino thing. Sounds a whole lot less crazy.” Donny said, shaking his head.

“Come over to our place tonight. We’ll have dinner, and I’ll make sure there are some other Night Children there.”

“It’s a deal,” Donny said, still not convinced.

That afternoon I told Emmy about the conversation with Donny, and she was O.K. with me letting the secret out. “We have to start somewhere,” she said. “I hope by the end of the year everybody will know.”

Michael and Jassie were already at our house when Donny showed up for dinner. I made the introductions, and explained to the two of them that Donny knew they were Children of the Night and wanted to meet them. They were shy, careful as always of strangers, but a month of not hiding had helped reduce their natural wariness. Donny was excellent, and his good nature and sense of humor helped put them at ease.

After dinner I offered to drive Donny back to the dorm so we could talk.

“You have officially blown my mind,” Donny declared. “I would never have believed it, but there it is. A complete other civilization of people living just out of sight of our own.”

“Yeah, crazy, huh?” I agreed.

“I get the feeling there’s more going on than you’ve told me, Leah. There are other details you’re leaving out.”

“Yeah, there are. Here’s the big one- Emmy wants to reveal her people to the world. She and her parents think it’s time to come out of hiding.”

“Why?” asked Donny as I parked the Mini by the dorms.

“There are a couple of reasons, as I understand it. First, they believe that it’s going to be impossible to hide much longer anyway, and it’d be better to reveal themselves than have it done to them.”

“Makes sense, I guess,” said Donny.

“The second is that their civilization is dying. Their birth rate has always been low, but now it’s even worse and they’ll simply die out within a few more generations if they don’t do something. Also, as human society has gotten more sophisticated they’ve had to go to greater lengths to hide, to the point where they don’t really ever come out of hiding any more.”

“Wow. That would explain why Michael and Jassie were so shy, wouldn’t it? I mean, if they’ve been hiding all their lives?”

“Yeah. There’s more, but that’s basically it. Emmy’s parents realized that something had to be done, so they raised Emmy in the daylight. She’s the first one of her people to live her whole life out in the open.”

“I can see why you said this was a secret,” Donny commented.

“Well, yeah, but hopefully not for very much longer,” I agreed. “I’m not sure exactly how Emmy and her family want to break the news, though.”

“So... Emmy's whole life has been, um, like an experiment or something?”

“Yeah, maybe not so much an experiment as a proof of concept, I guess,” I said. “Emmy's parents were living in the open before she was born, so they knew it was possible. They wanted to prove to all the rest of their kind that it could be done, so they decided to raise their daughter that way from the start.”

“Wow,” breathed Donny. “Just... wow”

“Yeah- no shit,” I agreed.