The buzzing intensified, followed by a repeated slapping sound against the cabana's flimsy roof. After several heart-stopping moments, a metallic jellyfish tentacle poked through the straw. Andie's eyes turned to saucers as the tentacle swayed back and forth, only inches away.

Don't move. She silently entreated Oliver. Why couldn't he Vulcan mind meld her? Would have been terribly convenient at the moment. Luckily, despite the lack of telepathic communication, Oliver remained as quiet and gorgeous as a Greek god carved in marble.

Long seconds passed. Finally, the tentacle retracted. Andie allowed herself a shallow breath. Still, the buzzing continued. Long seconds turned to long minutes. Perhaps the drone was patiently waiting for them to starve to death.

It is only human nature that when a person is forced to remain quiet and motionless for what now felt like a thousand years; it is nearly impossible to do so. Itches develop in hard-to-reach areas. Muscles cramp and then prickle with pins and needles. The stomach performs a symphony of burbles, gurgles, and growls. And, inevitably, said individual will desperately want to have sex with her hot alien boyfriend, who seems to have no trouble controlling himself.

To distract herself from these maladies, Andie mentally calculated the square root of seven. She had made it to seventeen digits when Bad Andie screamed: "Enough!"

It took all Andie's control not to levitate into the air. "You are not helping."

Bad Andie inserted one of her endless mental images of Oliver into Andie's mind. Only this time, she was included in the tableau. They were in the gentle surf up to their waists, Oliver's arms around Andie's torso. Kissing. Not gently.

"Definitely not helping."

"I know what would help," Bad Andie said.

Oliver shifted beneath Andie, making her even more aware of his spicy scent. Her heart pounded, whether from Oliver's nearness or from impending doom, she didn't know. Perhaps both. He was utterly intoxicating. As if by an invisible force, she slowly lowered her mouth to his.

"I resent being called an invisible force," Bad Andie quipped.

Lower ...

"It's not as if you have a body."

"Sure. Rub it in."

Lower ...

His eyes crackled blue—boring into her. Pure energy and attraction. The electric feel of his hands exploring her back sent a delicious shock through her body.

Andie pressed her mouth to his. Oliver's full lips parted, allowing her tongue to explore. The dance of lips and tongues was all the more intimate and erotic in the need for silence. Her head spun. She was delirious with lust. Blue light sizzled off her skin and wrapped around Oliver. He held her tight, and, rolling over so he was now on top, he pressed her against the sand. Trapping her. Enveloping her in his cinnamon fog.

She couldn't move, even if she wanted to. His groin pressed firmly into a very sensitive region of her body.

Andie couldn't help pushing upward against Oliver's, uh, love rocket. His eyes smoldered with blue heat. She moved her mouth from his lips and ran kisses down the length of his jaw while a crackling blue light arced between them.

Something had to happen, because otherwise Andie would go insane from carnal deprivation. At this moment, she didn't care one whit about the stupid jellyfish drone. She pushed herself against Oliver in exactly the right place, resulting in a quick and jolting thrill of release. Andie buried her face in his neck to keep from crying out. Blue electricity erupted from their bodies like a solar flare, disintegrating the cabana and leaving them exposed on the beach.

The drone swooped toward them, dragging its tentacles over Oliver's back. Gray ozone-scented smoke curled off of his spacesuit. Andie screamed. "Get away from him!"

"Don't move!" Oliver ordered.

"As if I could with a Greek god-shaped boulder on top of me."

"I'm not ..."

"I know!"

Oliver turned over, but continued to use his body as a shield between Andie and the drone. He caught a tentacle. It zapped his bare hand. He cried out. Blue light shot out of his body, bright as a camera flash.

A jab of adrenaline spiked through Andie's veins. "Leave him alone!" Andie's Neuronic energy built to a fever pitch.

The zappy blue light joined with Oliver's. Together, their jagged bolts surged up the jellyfish's tentacle toward its metallic bell. A halo of blue encapsulated the drone. At last, it released Oliver's hand and flew upward as if trying to escape. But instead, it exploded in brilliant light like the Death Star in Episode IV. Oliver flipped back to face Andie, blocking the metallic fragments and slime that rained upon them.

"It's gone," Andie breathed.

"Thoroughly," Oliver said, kissing the tip of her nose. "I'm growing rather fond of your powers, even if they are an enigma." As she gazed into his beautiful blue eyes, a feeling of contentment washed over her. If only this very moment in time could last forever. Maybe it could.

Sure, she should run off and save Sterling from a life of alien servitude and unlimited shoes, but damn, Oliver was sexy. And she felt oddly drawn to this beautiful moon with its double suns, sherbet skies, exotic birds, sparkly pink oceans.

It was as if she'd been languishing on a desert island, enduring a raging thirst she had not realized until this moment that she had even possessed. And for the first time, it was slaked, and she was whole. Andie reached absentmindedly for the tiny silver scar next to her left eye. But the skin was smooth. What was happening to her?

"Now you're scaring me," Bad Andie said, though she seemed far away.

"Hmmmm?" Andie said.

"Andromeda? Andie? Are you all right?"

"Huh? Oh, I'm fine," Andie slurred, stretching beneath him. "More than fine. I love it here. Let's have sex right here on the sand. Just a few thousand times."

Oliver held her face in his hands. "Andromeda. Look at me. This isn't you talking. It's the moon's influence. You really must unsnap from it," Oliver said.

"Snap out of it, Oliver. Not unsnap from it," she drawled. "But listen to me. I want to live here forever. Kiss me." She moved her face toward his, but he held her back, gripping her shoulders with his large, warm hands. Even without Bad Andie's help, Andie imagined the feel of them caressing her entire body, and panted. "Please," she begged.

"As much as I'd like to spend the rest of my life kissing you, my lovely galaxy, we must get off of this beach before drone reinforcements come to investigate the demise of their scout."

Disappointment flooded over her skin like a cold plunge. Andie pouted.

"I can't believe I have to be the mature one," Bad Andie scolded. "But can you two please get a room? Preferably somewhere with no one or anything firing, sliming, exploding on us, or setting our hair on fire?"

"Sorry," Andie said, shaking her head to clear the shroud of cotton that seemed to envelop her brain. "I don't know what's come over me."

Bad Andie metaphorically rolled her eyes. "Oliver just told you. The moon is manipulating you. Do you remember Sterling? Long curly hair. Amazonian height? Annoyingly stunning? Your best friend. Facing a life of alien servitude?"

"Of course I remember Sterling." Obviously, Andie had lost her wits. She was acting like a weak fool. Begging a guy to kiss her!

Aided by the spacesuit and the desire to rescue Sterling and somehow get off this moon before it completely possessed her, Andie leapt to standing, brushing the few bits of metal that had made it past her hunky alien shield off of her jumpsuit. Miraculously, none of the slime had stuck to the fabric of either suit. "Let's go find Sterling," Andie said. Now that the drama of imminent death was past, her stomach decided it needed food. It rang out once more in a symphony of complaint.

"You are hungry. When is the last time you ate?" Oliver narrowed his gaze. As if starvation was something she had done deliberately. A part of her grand scheme.

"I can't remember. Should've stayed for the wedding cake," she joked. But when he frowned, Andie instantly regretted saying it. Oliver had been a victim. He had never wanted to marry Talia. And even worse, he was doing it to save Andie's life. "I'm sorry, Oliver. I shouldn't have said that."

"Oh no, it is fine. I am only disappointed in myself for neglecting your needs."

"Not all of my needs."

"Surely not."

Andie cleared her throat. "No."

He rose, every muscle in his body visible under the jumpsuit. God, he looked hot in it. She decided he should never take it off. Except during sex. But honestly, if she had it her way, that would be a continuous venture, rendering the garment unnecessary.

"Let us proceed." He shadowed his eyes with his hand and scanned the cloudless sky. "Drone reinforcements will most likely come from the southern armory. We shall head east, toward the fifties. I will explain more about the moon's operations as we walk. There is much you need to know. Please stay close and do whatever I ask—for your own safety. Danger abounds."

Sometimes Oliver could be so bossy. "I'm not that good at following orders."

He laughed and took her hand, and before she could protest further, he steered her away from the surf, with its rhythmic lapping against the shore. It took several moments before she even realized that he had put himself in charge. She sighed audibly enough so he could hear, even so, she let him lead.

"I like when you're cooperative." He squeezed her hand.

"Don't get too used to it," she said.

The dazzling reflection of the suns, like twin egg yolks spitting and sputtering in a frying pan, glittered off the sand. At the edge of the beach was a yellow sidewalk, which began as a pinwheel, before straightening and disappearing into a haze. Thick groves of palm trees hugged either side of the path, their red fronds saggingin the still air.

Oliver crouched next to the sidewalk and ran a finger over it. "Curious."

"What is?"

"The show must have a new Director. The path has never been yellow before."

Andie cocked her head. "Well, I guess we're off to see the wizard."

"Excuse me?"

"The Wizard of Oz. It's a movie. It was a favorite of Sterling's and mine when we were kids. Dorothy, the protagonist, begins her journey on a yellow brick road."

Oliver wrinkled his brow. "But these are not bricks."

"Are all aliens this literal?"

"Are all humans this confusing?"

They stepped from the sand on to the sidewalk, and a Déjà vu-like shiver ran through her. Because it felt like she was embarking on an adventure into an unknown land. Where lions and tigers and bears skulked behind trees, waiting to pounce. Where the only way home was to forge ahead and hope that they didn't encounter any wicked witches or irate apple trees or flying monkeys. Shadows danced between the palms.

"What are you looking for?" Oliver said.

"My sanity," Andie said.

"Good luck with that," Bad Andie said through gales of laughter.

It was both disconcerting and reassuring that after ten minutes of walking; they hadn't seen another person. Besides her own breath, the only sound marking their progress was the low scrape of their silver moon boots against the sidewalk and the strangling gurgle of a nearby brook. The odd, muffled hush of this world was reminiscent of her mother's voice calling from the surface as Andie hid at the bottom of the swimming pool. Or perhaps it was more like a crypt—only without the stale air, spider webs, and dead bodies. The tiny hairs on the back of Andie's neck stood on end.

"Tell me about the dangers," Andie said, finally summoning the courage to ask.

"I do not have all the time in the universe to explain, but the 'Reader's Digest' version, as you call it, is that besides the ongoing drone threat, we will have to enter the city without proper credentials. It is programmed to stun anyone who tries. I am hoping it recognizes us, but just in case, prepare for a hasty retreat."

"Don't worry, with this magic spacesuit, I could probably outrun a jaguar."

Straight ahead on the path, between the line of trees, Andie glimpsed a shimmering, curved membrane flickering like a mirage. As they got closer, she could make out the fuzzy outline of low buildings within. It looked like an upside-down bowl of clear Jell-O had swallowed a village. "Is that the security bubble?"

"Yes. Let us hope our Neuronic signatures work. My family established the Colony, after all. Once we are through, be careful where you tread. There have been many motifs and tropes tried and discarded over the years of As the Earth Turns. They are buried underground in hermetic containers, but there have been reports that some of them might have been installed by Nimnuls."

"How do you even know that word, and what are you babbling about, discarded tropes?"

"Everyone knows Nimnuls. Terrible slackers. Short. Purple skin. Three eyes. From Ursa Minor."

"Nimnuls are really a thing?"

"Humans are so ignorant of the other occupants of the universe. Even those from nearby galaxies. Never mind. As I was saying, elements of the show that the viewers no longer prefer are entombed like earth's dead."

"Could you please choose less morbid metaphors?" Andie said, even though a few minutes before she'd been thinking about crypts.

"Now you know what I go through," Bad Andie snarked.

"Of course, Andromeda. What I mean is, we have to discard stale show elements like megalomaniacal villains with no believable motivation, unabashed star vehicles, and those inane, redundant chase scenes that do not advance the plot."

Andie shook her head. She would never understand the Amu.

As they closed in on the security bubble, the yellow sidewalk vibrated—synchronized to the hum of invisible machinery. Alluring rainbows rippled across the bubble's gelatinous skin. It was hypnotic. "It is so beautiful," Andie said, reaching out her hand to touch it.