Andie lay beneath Oliver, breathing hard, his cinnamon-scented, muscly back compressing her breasts.

Under some circumstances this position would have been welcome, but right now, with her bare behind almost frozen, her hair and skin streaked with bird poo, and an army of stupidly shod supermodels rocking the ship with laser fire, it wasn't all that fun.

"Speak for yourself," Bad Andie said.

"Blissful silence in my head for an entire chapter, and now you decide to come back! Don't you have a Bigfoot novel to read or something?"

"I'm into Mermen now. They're just so ... slippery. And those man-sheaths! I'm totally over Bigfoot. I mean, he's great. But those sharp teeth! Too violent. I'm a lover, not a fighter. And speaking of lovers ..."

"That was close," Oliver said, making no attempt to get up. Andie was having a hard time hyperventilating, which should've been a simple thing to accomplish under the circumstances. "As soon as Star has prepared the engines, we will leave the hangar."

"You're squishing me," Andie grunted, pushing against Oliver's shoulders. It was like trying to move an alien-sized chunk of concrete.

The ship shook as it absorbed the energy from another laser blast. Andie's stomach twisted. Why did an advanced alien spaceship need to warm up its engines like some old Buick?

Oliver effortlessly leapt off of her and offered her a hand. Too tired to argue, Andie grasped it and stood. Oliver squeezed her hand and sucked in a breath. "You are injured," he said.

"I'm fine, thanks to your magic Gripple. By the way, if you've got one, I could use it. I mean, after your family finishes shooting at us. How long does the ship need to prepare its engines?"

A sickly sweet burnt smell, like charred marshmallows, wafted into the cabin.

"That's enough, Star. Please, Andromeda, Star prefers 'she' to 'it.' And I am glad you are all right," Oliver said, blue lightning flickering in his eyes.

"I prefer Andie. And could you stop that sparking thing and let go of me? I'm not interested in a physical relationship with you." The smell dissipated.

"Liar!"

Andie ignored her bad self. "Especially given the handy dandy death sentence that comes with. I'm here for my friend and that's it. Understand?"

"Spoilsport," Bad Andie moaned.

"Shut up!" Andie said. Out loud.

Oliver winced and released her hand. "I said nothing. And I cannot control the sparks. They are involuntary."

"I wasn't talking to you," Andie (stupidly) said. The last thing she needed was for Oliver to know that she heard freaky voices.

"I resent being called freaky," Bad Andie snapped.

"Oh, I see. You were speaking to Star?" Oliver said.

"No, I ... Doesn't matter." The ship pitched from another blast. Andie tumbled into Oliver. He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her upright. The ship rocked, this time without being blasted. Star was obviously not amused. "Can we just get out of here?" The engines vibrated beneath them.

"Now that the engines are ready, we can enter the airlock, as long as the lasers have affected nothing essential."

No, no, no! The ship had to work. "Essential? What do you mean? Oliver, we have to get out of here. Now!"

"As long as the navigation system, life support, and the warp drive are undamaged, we should be fine."

"You have warp drive? Like in Star Trek?"

"I believe we had it first. Now, I will help you strap in," Oliver said, gesturing toward one of the two white plastic, extremely cold-looking armchairs perched in the middle of the all-white circular bridge. The walls were so white and shiny and slippery-looking, it was like being inside a giant bathtub. A honeycomb pattern of recessed overhead lighting cast an eerie glow in the stark space. Outside the horizontal window, which wrapped around the bridge, the supermodels continued their onslaught.

"I know we're under attack, but do you have anything in this ship resembling clothing? Because that chair looks cold, and your eyes are seriously freaking me out."

Another powerful blast and a piercing scream reverberated through the cabin. Andie fell into the chair. Goosebumps erupted along her arms.

Pink lights, like airbrushed doves, flashed from above. "We've lost the lateral shields," Oliver pronounced.

"Don't we need those?" Andie said.

"Only if someone fires on us." The ship shuddered.

"Like that?"

"Basically, yes." Oliver quickly strapped her in, double-checking the snugness. "Stay," he ordered.

"I am not a dog," Andie griped.

Instead of responding, Oliver took the other chair and strapped in. His hands danced in the air in front of him.

"What are you doing?" Andie said.

"Navigating. Hopefully. But be quiet and let me concentrate unless you want to end up in the Delumium mines of Zog."

Before Andie had a chance to balk at Oliver telling her to be quiet or for her to marvel that there really was a Zog, she became completely absorbed in the streaks of color flashing in the wake of his movements. The cabin filled with swirls of light—like three-dimensional stained glass, but alive. It reminded of her journey through the Priority One. Maybe the ship operated on the same principles.

The colors extinguished like spent firecrackers to be replaced by a three-dimensional replica of the universe that occupied the entire room. All around them, galaxies swirled, pulsars pulsed, and black holes warped the fabric of space. As Oliver moved his hands, the viewpoint rotated and changed exactly the way it does on Google Earth.

"Where are we headed?" Andie breathed.

"To Runway. It is Sterling's most likely location."

"Runway? Like a landing strip?"

"Nothing at all like a landing strip," Oliver replied. With his index finger, he guided a tiny image of the bat ray-shaped Star Force One to a solar system, light years away. Past a red planet. Then to a moon. The route appeared as an orange line of light. Oliver slid the icon closer to the moon, through clouds. As he neared the surface, Google Galaxy switched to something like "street view." The ship skimmed along a white sandy beach, through residential McMansioned neighborhoods, then came to rest beside an enormous building with a bus-sized red stiletto on top. "Navigation is fully functional," he said.

"That was amazing," Andie said. "What's it called?"

Oliver blushed. "Google Galaxy."

Andie gasped. "Google is an alien organization?"

Oliver arched an eyebrow. "Is it not obvious?"

"Wow. I mean, I thought Hollywood was the goal."

"Oh, it's not Amu. There are other beings interested in earth besides us. We aren't even the first." The universe disappeared, and the interior of the ship returned to all-white. "Course is laid in. It will take one earth hour and thirty-nine minutes to reach The Colony."

The ship rumbled. Through the 360-degree window, Star Force One floated above the other spacecraft, the supermodels shaking their hands in fury as Star soared toward a solid wall at the far end of the hangar.

Andie covered her eyes with her forearm. "We're going to crash!"

"No. We are fine, Andromeda. The hatch will open."

"What hatch?"

"That one." Oliver pointed out a jagged crack opening in the wall."

"Won't everyone on the hanger deck get sucked into outer space? Not that it would be a bad thing."

"No. We will enter the airlock first."

"How do you know your mother won't trap us in there?"

"It is a chance we will have to take unless you want to go back out there." On the other side of the window, mayhem ensued.

"No, thanks."

The hatch closed behind them and the ship hovered, buzzing in anticipation, in a cylindrical metal room. "It will take a moment for the gateway into space to open."

The door from the airlock slid open. Outside, space loomed, starry and cold, airless and quiet—terrifyingly beautiful. As the opening widened, earth floated against a backdrop of sun and stars like a swirly white, blue, and green Christmas ornament.

The ship sprang off the deck. Andie clutched the arms of her chair as her stomach lurched. Still, they were alive. "We did it," Andie said, exhaling in relief. Even though she had half a head of hair, a bleeding lip, a swollen jaw, sore muscles, and an abducted best friend, things were looking up.

"We did it," Oliver said. "How did you gain access to the Neuronic Energy?"

Andie shook her head. "That's what you're supposed to tell me."She sighed. Even with her frustration at still not knowing why she had alien powers, she grew calmer the further they got from the mothership. They were one step closer to rescuing Sterling. Surely disrupting Oliver's Joining and stealing a spaceship were the hard parts of the mission. And she would figure out why she had the Neuronic woo hoo. Because she wouldn't give up until she had.

The mothership shrank and soon became lost in the sea of stars. Andie's next priority, given that they had over an hour before arriving at the alien moon, was to stop being naked.

"Oliver, is there anything on the ship I could wear?"

"There are jumpsuits beneath our seats. Here."He retrieved a tidy bundle of silver from a compartment under his command chairs. Oliver unfurled the jumpsuit. It was like the skintight model Cyra and Emerson wore the day they walked into Oliver's bedroom.

"Not to be picky or anything, but do you have anything less, um, revealing?"

Oliver chuckled. "You mean as opposed to what you are wearing now?"

"Hilarious."

"Thank you. May I ask why you do not want to wear it? I assure you, it is quite comfortable."

"No human woman should wear that thing unless she's a Victoria's Secret model or Taylor Swift. Isn't there anything else?"

"I'm fresh out of tuber sacks."

"What's a tuber sack?"

He pressed his temple. "Potato sack is what I meant. But before you reject the jumpsuit, take a look." He waved his hand in the air, and a holographic image of Andie in the suit appeared. Holo-Andie had a complete head of hair and posed haughtily, like a runway model. Andie had to admit her holo version looked amazing.

"God, I hate it when I'm wrong."

"I know," said Oliver. "It happens so rarely." He laughed.

"And if you plan on spending any time with me, you'd best remember it."

"I will. Now, if you will recall, we have a celebrity to rescue. Make yourself decent. For now," he added, eyes sparking blue again.

Andie unhooked herself from the chair and turned her back on Oliver. She removed the Joining dress, retrieving François' business card, and slipping it into a hidden pocket in the spacesuit once she'd put it on. It turned out to be the most amazing garment she had ever worn—light and warm as a breath on her skin. Her muscles relaxed, yet she could feel them grow stronger. Her lungs expanded and filled with what felt like twice the normal level of oxygen. Every nerve ending awakened. The bird poo disappeared, and her scalp prickled as her hair grew back in. Even if Andie had hated what she looked like in the suit, she vowed never to take it off. She felt better than she had in her entire life—and supremely amorous.

"Finally," Bad Andie said. "I thought it would never happen!"

"Oh, my god," Andie said, lunging for Oliver. She pulled at his straps, which gave way with a snap. They ended up on the floor, rolling and panting. Andie had wanted no one as badly as she wanted Oliver right now. All conscious, pragmatic thought exited her brain. They kissed so fiercely, they bumped teeth. She bit Oliver's lip, and he groaned. She felt him hard as a marble pestle against her thigh. With every ounce of her being, she knew this was going to be the best sex ever had by anyone in the universe, even though she had been certain about this the last time they had sex.

It pained her to separate from Oliver's body, but clothing must be removed before said awesome sex could ensue. She grabbed the waist of Oliver's Joining clown pants, which came down easily, being made for exactly this purpose. His eyes sparked like crazy as she wrapped a hand around his ample manhood? Alienhood?

A resentful throat-clearing echoed through the cabin. Oliver pulled back. No, Andie begged the universe. I can't stop.

Oliver pulled up his pants. "I am sorry, Andromeda." She could see by the persistent bulge in his Joining pants that he meant it. "I have to pilot now. Star Force One is experiencing a degree of insecurity."

"What do you mean? She's jealous? That's ridiculous. She is a machine."

A light popped off the ceiling and nearly hit Andie in the head. "That was not nice, Star," Oliver said. The spaceship popped another light, which flew straight at his crotch. He caught it before it could do any damage. Thank goodness. "Are you done with your temper tantrum now?"

The ship made a harrumphing sound.