Sterling sat at the edge of the sofa, perched like an angry statue, arms crossed over her chest, lips pursed, eyes narrowed in on Andie like twin lasers. She could practically feel the assault-weapon sights trained on her face. Andie knew this expression well. Usually, it worked. She would give up any information when confronted with that look. It was so effective, the government would've been wise to put Sterling to work interrogating foreign spies.

In fact, Sterling had once played a government interrogator in a movie. Opposite Ryan Reynolds. Shirtless—him; black rubber jumpsuit—her. They ended up having kinky sex in a room the size of a broom closet with a single yellow bulb rocking overhead in rhythm to their thrusting.

In a visual innuendo of bludgeoning proportions, the light exploded at the moment of ... release. A comedy, if Andie remembered correctly.

Rachel, fingers steepled in her lap, looked back and forth between the girls in her standard "let them figure it out while I sit here and act all Zen" mode.

Andie held firm in her resolve, though tiny beads of sweat erupted on her forehead. She crossed her own arms. Her legs. Glared back. After all, she had been at the foot of the master for many years now. She was bound to pick up some skills. Be strong. Oliver's life, and perhaps the life of their theoretical unborn child, depended on it.

Oh, Oliver. Losing him tugged so deep it was as if someone had lassoed her heart and ripped it from her chest. Vibrant memories left her breathless—his cinnamon scent, the blue light sizzling in his eyes when he looked at her, his overprotectiveness to the point that he thought throwing her in a dumpster was an act of love, his adorable malapropisms.

"Malapropisms? Ugh! How about 'the feel of his clever mouth,'" Bad Andie suggested.

"Well, that too," Andie conceded.

"If you think you're never seeing Oliver again, you are a complete idiot," Bad Andie said.

"We don't even know where he is," Andie replied in a prim thought-voice.

"Your best friend is running the joint. She said she'd find him. And then what? How are you getting us off this rock and back to some trial balances or amortization schedules?"

"I thought you hated that stuff. You said it was boring."

"I'm ready for boring."

"Me too," Andie agreed. "Well, my plan is to convince Sterling to come home and also arrange for our transport. Pretty straightforward."

"And just how are you going to accomplish this?"

"Hard, solid, indisputable logic."

"And when that fails?"

"Blackmail?"

"We're doomed. Anyway, I have to go now. I've got reading to catch up on."

"What now, dinosaur porn? Ravished by the Raptor? Bucking Bronco-saurus? Jurassic Park-it-in-the-Rear? Dino-sore?"

"Those are awful. Keep the day job. And no. I am reading What to Expect When You're Expecting: the Alter Egos Edition."

"Huh?"

"If I'm going to be a mother, I need to know what to do."

"Oh, my god! What would you teach a child?" Bad Andie as a parent was about the worst thing ever conceived. It would be like ... "Darth Vader running a preschool."

"What are you mumbling about? Darth Vader running a preschool?" The Sterling statue came to life. Oops, Andie must've started arguing with Bad Andie out loud. Dumb, dumb, dumb. "Can you please lock up the crazy for 5 minutes while you explain your weird blue powers? Is it like the Force? Is that what you're trying to tell me? You're like a Sith Lord, and you've discovered the dark side or some crap like that?"

"You know about Sith lords?"

"Of course I do. I'm science fiction indifferent, not science fiction illiterate."

"My children." Rachel regarded Sterling and Andie like a Buddha about to make some grand pronouncement about peace and tranquility.

Sterling glared at Andie as if she caused all the ills in the world. "Yes, Mama?"

"Can you finish your story, darling? It is important for Andromeda that she understands."

"What about you?" Andie said. "Don't you want to understand, too?"

"I already do, my sweet child. Buddha says, 'no one saves us but ourselves. No one can and no one may. We ourselves must walk the path.'"

"Huh?" Andie said, having no clue what her mother was talking about.

Sterling beamed. "That's beautiful, Mama. And don't think I've given up on your secrets, Andie. But someone has to be the mature one here, so I will tell you the rest of my story first. Now, where was I? Oh yes, I wanted to die after the Ban Plastic Surgery Now! banquet."

Even after all this time, the events that transpired at the banquet were raw. Andie clenched her fists so hard, her unpolished, jagged fingernails (turns out climbing elevator shafts is not a fingernail-friendly activity) broke the skin on her palm. "And then vile Talia abducted you from the limo."

"Right, and I kicked you in the face. That must've hurt." Sterling winced.

"Hurt like hell. Couldn't pronounce s's for hours."

Sterling cast her eyes downward. "Sorry." She looked back at Andie.

"Thanks, Ster. I know it was an accident."

"Thanks. So then Talia took me to a penthouse office where Cyra was waiting. They showed me a glossy brochure and promised me the moon. Get it? The moon. They said no paparazzi would ever hassle me again. I would never get fat; never wrinkle; have exceptional sex whenever I wanted with the most glamorous people who had ever lived. I could fricking meet Prince! I would never die. So it was an easy decision. I would've signed up based on that alone. But they promised me even more."

Andie swallowed hard. "You left without a word."

"They said I couldn't tell anyone. I'm sorry, Andie. Truly." Sterling stood and paced in front of the immense window. Beyond the red shoe, the orange suns jockeyed in the sky as the occasional cloud blotted out one and then the other.

What Andie had to do was find a super-logical counterargument for the "all you can eat buffet of awesomeness" at The Colony—namely unlimited food and sex and, of course, immortality. And the good kind of immortality where you're actually breathing. Not the bad kind where people drip ice cream and drop cigarette butts on top of your star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame while asking "who was she?" "So how is it you're in charge of ... the Colony?"

"Oh, Andie, it's the best." Sterling paused and smiled, her dark eyes glittering like Christmas. "All those years in Hollywood being told what to do. What to eat, how to exercise, what parties to be seen at, what to wear? "Do you remember that summer I had to wear Crocs!" Sterling wrinkled her nose. "I even drank Diet Pepsi, which everyone knows is inferior to Diet Coke. I pretended to like basketball! All because of contract clauses. Being told how to cry, laugh, smell, smile. And now no one orders me around."

"I can see the appeal, Ster, but I still don't get why the aliens would want a human overlord, or whatever you are."

"That's hilarious. Overlord. Remind me to have new business cards made up with that as my title. Love it. I am the Overlord of the Colony, not only because I understand what it takes to make good TV and successfully run a multi-million-dollar charity. It's because of all my other abilities amassed through years of studying for film roles.

"Unlike some actors," Sterling flipped her hand in the direction of the door where Gigi lurked ... er ... worked, "the Amu were totally impressed with my skill set. I'm not just an actress. Plus, I've been tabloid fodder for years. I can deliver a superior product. Intergalactic ratings have gone into light speed since I've started."

She drifted over to the light-up globe on her desk and, with reverence, held her palms against the southern hemisphere. The lights on the globe had changed since Andie and Rachel had arrived. There were more of them to start with—red, orange, and yellow. But the biggest change occurred in one spot, close to where a landmass met a pink ocean. It was a white light shooting upward, as bright as a klieg at a movie premiere.

"Andie, I have to thank you for your contribution by the way. The lit-up areas show which sections of the moon the galaxy's viewership tuned into. Sort of a Neilson rating for the extra-terrestrial set. It goes from yellow for the lowest number of viewers, to orange, red, and then to white for greatest. This right here," she pointed to the gleaming white light, "is your storyline. Andie. I swear, if you'd have decked Marilyn or Tom, we'd be popping open the champagne. But there will be more opportunities. My god, Andie, with my production acumen, your accounting prowess, and Mama's clairvoyance, we will be invincible. We can rule the Colony together!"

Andie scowled. All Sterling needed was a leather glove, a breathing helmet, and a fist, and she'd look just like Darth Vader talking to Luke in The Empire Strikes Back. "But ..."

Sterling leaned against the desk. "Look Andie, you can be the CFO of The Colony. I know you like your numbers. Mama can see! If she goes back to earth, she'll be blind again."

Was Andie losing her mind? Because who would give up the ultimate in luxury with the added benefit of immortality? Even now, the pull of the moon tempted her to give in. Give up. Why fight it? But she had to go back. Right? To shut down the tabloid and prevent future humans from being tricked out of their lives. And the Zuts needed her.

Andie exhaled. "Because it isn't real, Sterling. Dreams are great places to visit, but you can't dream forever. Besides, this isn't your dream. It's someone else's. Do you think this is better than the paparazzi? It's the paparazzi times a billion.

"You and everyone here is being spied on by beings throughout the galaxy. They watch you fight, pick spinach out of your teeth, get thrown in dumpsters in dark alleys." (Not that Andie was harping on this at all.) "What are dreams anyway but horrible visions of being naked in public or falling off a cliff?"

Rachel twisted her beads into a tight column. "I encountered reality once. Didn't care for it."

"Mama, that's not helping," Andie said. "Ster, think of the girls whose lives you have saved through Ban Plastic Surgery Now! With your fame, you can do so much good. Who would you rather be, Elon Musk or Princess Diana?"

"Di is the sweetest ..."

"You know Princess Diana?"

"Sure, I'll introduce you. And remember, Elon sold a lot of electric vehicles helping to wean the world of its petroleum addiction."

"I forgot about that. No one is all bad, I suppose. But the essence of what I said holds true. You can do so much good on earth."

"Okay," Sterling said, pacing again. "I felt bad about the children, but I'm still not leaving. And neither are you, 'cause we don't need to worry about what's right and wrong."

"Why not?"

"Because there's no way of off The Colony. It's a one-way ticket."

"I didn't have any ticket. Oliver and I came in his personal vessel."

"Which is now ...?"

"Under the ocean," Andie admitted, cringing as she recalled Star's last moments of bravery and self-sacrifice. For her. Had Star known about the baby?

"Sorry, Andie. We aren't expecting another celebrity shipment for months."

"I'll find a way."

"Even if you could depart with the next ship, neither Mama nor I can ever leave."

"What did you say?" Andie said, horrified.

"We both signed lifetime contracts agreeing to come to The Colony. A breach of contract would cause our ... um ... uh ... demise."

"Aren't you the boss? Can't you stop this from happening?"

"No," Sterling picked at a non-existent thread on her pants. "I can't control that. The moon takes care of it."

"I thought no one died here."

"Not unless there's a breach of contract. The aliens are serious about their contract law."

Andie scratched her arm, remembering what happened (horrible rash) when she breached her Amu employment contract. But after four semesters of Business Law in college, she was convinced she was missing something important here. The sound of Rachel mumbling interrupted her concentration. "Mama, who are you talking to?"

"Pilot. He wanted to warn us."

Andie knew better than to point out that Pilot was nowhere in sight. And was probably still in quarantine at the Colony processing center. Andie practically levitated off the couch, as a loud bang sounded outside the office door. The globe spun and lit up, the colored lights blinking like crazy. It vibrated toward the edge of the desk. Sterling tried to grab it before it fell on the carpet. Too late.

"Crap!" Sterling punched a button on her desk. "Gigi? What is going on? What was that noise?"

"What noise?" Gigi's voice broadcasted into the office.

"That banging!" Sterling said.

"Oh, that." Gigi giggled.

A shadow, cold and malevolent, enveloped the room. When she looked out the window, a cold dread settled in her veins as if someone had drained her blood and replaced it with antifreeze. An army of jellyfish drones blotted out the sky.

Andie wrapped her arms around her mother as the building rattled and groaned. Laser fire slashed through the air, aimed at a lone bat ray-shaped spaceship, expertly dipping and careening and twirling to avoid the gunfire. Bat ray? Could this be Star? Whole again? Andie had only the time between heartbeats to rejoice, because at that moment, as the entire circus of activity headed straight for Sterling's office.

"We've gotta get out of here," Andie cried, grabbing her mom's arm to help her off the sofa.

"She's right," Sterling said, taking Rachel's other arm.

Rachel complied, but slowly. "It will be fine, darling. Pilot said ..."

A flash of red laser fire hurtled toward the office. It came from the bat ray ship. Did Star just fire on them? Who was piloting her? The blast hit the window. It disintegrated. Cool, briny air rushed into the room.

Sterling and Andie raced to the door, Rachel calmly going along with it.

Sterling grabbed the handle. "It's locked!" she said, maniacally shaking the knob. "Gigi, open this door, dammit!"

"I'll kick it down," Andie said, backing away into position. "Move out of the way." Finally, she could put her kickboxing skills to good use. With the magical suit, she might even have a chance.

"Don't!" Sterling cried. Andie struck the door with all her power. Pain reverberated from her foot to her thigh as she collapsed on the floor. "It's a blast door. In case of attack. Solid steel underneath the wood."

Andie caressed her throbbing leg. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I tried. You never listen!"

"Girls," Rachel said.

Sterling rolled her eyes and resumed her pounding. "Gigi, what the hell is going on?"

Through the loudspeaker, the ingenue cum secretary's giggle ratcheted across the inside of the office. "Oh, shoot, I forgot to send you the memo. In quadruplicate. I'm the captain now."