Alien Proliferation

by Gini Koch

  “All you need is the catsuit. Which would, I must say, look excellent on you.”

  “Wow, hope Jeff’s still alive. Otherwise, I may have to shock my parents with who I marry next.”

  CHAPTER 56

  THE POOFS LED US ACROSS the garage to a different set of stairs. Went down, and the Poofs jumped back, Poofikins on my shoulder, Fluffy on White’s. The others went back into my purse.

  “Chuckie told Fluffy to protect you.”

  “I hope we’ll be in time to save his life by way of thanks.”

  “Yeah. Let’s just plan on it, okay?”

  We were moving at the slower hyperspeed again. I wondered when I was going to peter out. I’d been up to five miles without too much problem before I’d gotten pregnant. Jeff hadn’t allowed me to run since our honeymoon, however. Tried not to think about what they could have done to or be doing to him, just concentrated on moving as fast as I could. Wasn’t up to full hyperspeed, but it was faster than the best human sprinters could go.

  “We aren’t in the parking garage any more,” White said as we went lower. No sooner were the words out of his mouth than the stairs stopped and we hit a corridor. It turned left almost immediately, and we ran down it, though at a slightly slower pace.

  “How can you see?” The corridor wasn’t lit, which was why I assumed White had slowed us down a tad.

  “How can you? We have improved night vision over humans.”

  “Superpowers rock! I’m amazed you guys didn’t just take over and rule the pathetic humans the moment you arrived.”

  “My father wanted to.”

  I squeezed his hand. “I know. I know why they want to kill you, Richard.”

  “Why is that?”

  “You’re too good a man. You always have been. You’re what keeps all the A-Cs working with humanity instead of taking over. You’re what keeps your people safe, too.”

  The corridor turned, left again. “We’re heading back to the cathedral, I believe.”

  “Why does something like this exist? I mean, a dark, scary tunnel going not much of anywhere?”

  “It’s a tunnel leading, I’d guess, from the cathedral out.”

  Thought about history. “Oh, right. In times of trouble, you ran to the church. But maybe you needed to get out again and didn’t want to go through the front doors and be killed.”

  “Correct.”

  “Geez, you a history professor on the side?”

  “No, but I’ve spent a lot of time with one recently. Your father.”

  “That’s his cover. He’s a NASA cryptologist. You were there when I got to discover my parents weren’t who they said they were.”

  “He’s still a professor, and he’s also a history buff. Fascinating, your world history. I’ve enjoyed reading about it, much based on your father’s suggestions.”

  This corridor was longer than the other one. “When does this thing end?”

  “You studied French. How big is the cathedral?”

  “Big.” I thought about it. “We’re going into the center area, the big part of the cathedral, aren’t we?”

  “I’d assume so.” There was something darker up ahead of us. “Jump!”

  I did as he said, hurdled, really, but it wasn’t my best. Fortunately, White landed without issue on the other side of the huge hole and hauled me back next to him. We kept on running. “What was that?”

  “Cave in, trap, something. Nothing to worry about.”

  “You’re a natural. Thankfully, or I’d be dead already.”

  He laughed. “Perhaps. I hate to admit it—in an odd way, I’m enjoying this.”

  “Because you’re so damned good at it.”

  “I’m sure the company helps as well.” We kept on running. “One thing still confuses me, Missus Martini. Well, more than one, but this in particular. Who was after Tim, and why were Miss Young’s apartment and her parents’ home ransacked?”

  “My guess? They want our DNA. It’s a standard evil medical supergenius plot in the comics. Get the DNA of the major good guys, create the clone army programmed to destroy the good guys with their own powers.”

  “Not following you. At all.”

  “Tim spotted Camilla, heard Clarence use an official drug name, maybe saw some other things, put two and two together. The wedding video’s the tip-off. He wanted me to focus on people who were at or around our wedding—the Diplomatic Corps, I’m sure, even though they were thankfully, removed before the ‘big event’. But also Chuckie and you, people Alicia would only have seen there. They were after her for one main reason—she had something with our DNA on it, at least, so they believed.”

  White was quiet. “Oh. She caught your bouquet, and Jeffrey took the garter off your leg with his teeth. Michael, who caught the garter, put it back onto Miss Young’s leg. I remember the guests found that all quite hilarious.”

  “Truly, you’re going to join active field duty after this. Yeah, because whoever catches the garter’s supposed to be the next to get married. Alicia kept the garter—it actually has none of our DNA on it any more because I know she washed it. She’s going to wear it at her wedding for good luck. However, Tim was looking for it, because he could offer it to the baddies—doing his own version of double-agenting. Maybe he made a deal before he left, just to be on the safe side. He’s the one who ransacked her place, to find the garter and also to leave a big message for us. Nothing says ‘danger’ like someone’s place being trashed.”

  “And her parents’ house?”

  “I imagine he and the other agents did that, too. Again, sticking with the theme. The A-Cs could trash it in about five seconds, we knew to look for clues there, since he freaking told me with the musical clues that I was so slow to catch on to.”

  “So, who was after him? How did his phone get shot? Why did he finally leave a message when a voicemail earlier would have been more helpful?”

  “Figure the bad guys caught on. Guns are human weapons . . . the C.I.A. was alerted by Chuckie sending his guys out. The ones trying to kill Chuckie and my mom sent goons after Tim. He left a message because he was pretty sure he was going to be captured. And, since he likely had the garter on him, the bad guys know it’s useless by now. But it bought us some time.”

  “Makes sense, Missus Martini.”

  Had to jump a few more holes, climb over some rocks, and in one case, move a rockslide while we were discussing Tim’s ability to outthink the rest of us. “Guess it’s a safe bet that whoever has our people isn’t using this route.”

  “It does appear that way.” White tossed another big hunk of rock, climbed up, hauled me up, jumped down, lifted me down, and we kept on moving. I was totally impressed. Tim needed a promotion, and White needed to get out and kick butt a whole lot more.

  We reached an intersection. We could go straight or turn left. “Poofies?” Harlie jumped down and went to the left. We followed, Harlie jumped back into my purse. “Interesting. Where are we going?”

  “No idea. You’re the one who studied French, supposedly.”

  Thought about it as we ran on for what seemed like another forever. “We’re still on Ile de la Cité. So, what else is here? Oh, duh. The Palais de Justice.” Thought about it. “And the Conciergerie. Where they held prisoners during the French Revolution. You know, right before they beheaded them. Tourists are kept out of most of it. I’ll bet the philanthropist Ronaldo Al Dejahl gets to visit when and where he wants, though.” We sped up.

  We finally reached another set of stairs. These led up. They also looked ancient. “The stairs can be slippery,” I shared.

  “Oh? How do you know?”

  “The brochure said so about the ones in the cathedral going up to the gargoyles, would make sense these are the same, and they look like the ones in the pictures.”

  “Then we’ll exercise caution.”

  We started up. Stair charges had been a part of my life for years, because I’d had the most sadistic track coaches in history. There were no rail
ings to hold on to, and the stairs were indeed slippery. They were also covered with dust. No one had been here in years, if not decades or more. We were moving fast enough that slipping wasn’t too much of an issue. Of course, I slipped, but White kept a firm hold on me and kept us moving upward. I remained overwhelmingly impressed.

  We hit a ceiling. White felt around, located the trapdoor, and opened it, carefully. He pulled himself up, then pulled me up. We were in a medium-sized room and were, thankfully, alone. White closed the trapdoor quietly, took my hand again, and then we moved through the room.

  As we got to the door, Harlie jumped out of my purse again and started leading. We followed. I looked around and pulled White’s head down. “We’re in the cellars,” I whispered in his ear. “Where the prison was.” He nodded.

  It had been warm in the tunnels, and we’d been running. We were moving slowly now, and it was freezing in here. I started to shiver. White stopped and put his jacket on me. Felt warmer and grateful both. He took my hand again, and we started off after Harlie.

  It was a big building. Perhaps if we hadn’t been trying to save everyone, I would have enjoyed the architecture. As it was, I was trying to come up with a plan. Neither White nor I had an actual weapon on us, we had something like two dozen people to save, and we had no idea how many bad guys we were dealing with.

  White squeezed my hand and leaned down. “Light ahead.” Harlie jumped into my purse. It was clear where we were supposed to go now.

  We slowed down and started creeping. As we got nearer, I heard the sound of someone shouting in pain. My grip on White’s hand tightened—it was Jeff.

  CHAPTER 57

  “STOP IT!” AMY’S VOICE. She was screaming and crying. “Why are you doing this to them?”

  “There are reasons.” Recognized this voice, too. Amy’s father. Hadn’t heard him in years but could still recognize it.

  We got to where we could see but remain in shadows. Big corridor, rooms off to the sides, bars. Every male was stripped to the waist and chained to the bars, pretty much spread-eagled. Would have spent a lot of time drooling if they weren’t in mortal peril. The women were all in one cell together. Apparently they weren’t strong enough to bend these bars, because I could see Emily and Melanie trying to pull them apart, and the bars weren’t budging.

  Herbert Gaultier was between the cell with the women and where the men were pretty much on display. He wasn’t alone. I could see Robert and Barbara Coleman and several other A-Cs with them.

  White leaned down and spoke in my ear. “All the Diplomatic Corps are here. The smaller, darker-skinned man is the one I met at the Paris airport.”

  I moved my mouth to his ear. “Figure he’s who’s pretending to be Al Dejahl.”

  White nodded, and we both continued to look at the scene. I couldn’t spot any of Jeff’s other brothers-in-law. What that meant, I didn’t know.

  “Really, Jeffrey,” Barbara Coleman said with false sweetness. “Just bring your wife and baby here. That’s all we ask. Then we’ll stop hurting you.” I found myself wishing I’d killed her during Operation Drug Addict.

  Jeff just glared at her. She smiled, and then I could tell she sent an emotional blast at him, because he shouted in pain again, and his whole body jerked. Not just her, I realized. All of them, all twelve of the Diplomatic Corps—they were all attacking my husband with the intent to torture him to death. Forced myself not to see red, not to just run in there, but it felt like the hardest thing I’d ever done.

  Chuckie was next to Jeff—still alive, but he’d had the crap beaten out of him. Christopher was on Jeff’s other side. He looked as though they’d used him for sparring practice, too.

  The rest of our guys were spread out, all looking like they’d been on the wrong end of a gang war. “Why do you want a baby?” Tito, interestingly, was still able to talk. Cage fighting had its benefits. He was next to Christopher.

  “Oh, not just any baby. Theirs. And the other enhanced hybrid when it arrives. For study.” The man whom White identified as our fake Al Dejahl moved closer to Tito. “Why do you care?” Tito didn’t answer, which earned him a punch in the gut. He shouted, but it was a shout I was familiar with—martial arts taught you to let out air and shout when you were hit, to deflect the pain. Probably why Tito looked better than most of our guys, which was the textbook example of damning with faint praise.

  “Stay away from my wife,” Brian managed to growl. He was on Tito’s other side. Al Dejahl backhanded him.

  “Stop it!” Amy was close to hysterical.

  I could see Kevin, Michael, Reader, and Tim clearly—like the others, they looked like crap. Those four were on Chuckie’s other side, so closer to me and White. The flyboys, who were on Brian’s other side, looked no better, but it was hard to be sure from this distance. But they all seemed alive. Tim was closest to us, Jerry farthest. I had no idea how to get any of them out of here safely, let alone all of them.

  Another thought occurred, and I pulled White’s head down. “How in the world did they catch all of them? Tito can take an A-C without help, let alone the rest of them working together.”

  “Perhaps whatever was used on Paul was used on the others.”

  “Where are the rest of the people who would have kept the women in line? Or carried the unconscious bodies?”

  We looked. I couldn’t spot anyone else. Meanwhile, Jeff was being tortured, and I knew he was going to be close to dying soon. Everyone loved to hurt my men, Jeff in particular.

  Ran through my inventory of what I had to use. Me, White, six Poofs, an iPod, hairspray, cell phone, and the adrenaline harpoon. None of these screamed “cavalry coming” other than if I lucked out and got to Jeff before he died. I’d seen the Poofs devour a man in front of me, but that man had been trying to kill me. Had a crazy thought I decided to table for later.

  They sent another emotional hit at Jeff, and his whole body writhed in agony. He was panting from the pain.

  “Leave him alone,” Christopher snarled.

  “Oh, we can’t do that,” Robert Coleman said. “We have a new leader, and we need to make sure no one is stupid enough to suggest Jeffrey as the next Pontifex.”

  “My father’s not going to let you get away with this.”

  Coleman snorted. “Please. He’s only survived this long because he’s had you and Jeffrey to protect him. Gower’s dead, so the one weapon you had has gone back to the cosmos, or dissipated.”

  I yanked White’s head down. “You said the PPB net would collapse not dissipate.”

  “Yes, because I know and they don’t. One thing I did learn from my father—tell your diplomats only what they need to know in order to do their jobs. High-level secrets are for those who can keep them.”

  “Your new leader’s a fake.” I wasn’t sure how Chuckie was managing to talk, but he sounded insolent, too.

  “Yes, of course he is.” Coleman laughed. “I do share one viewpoint with Jeffrey and Christopher—I’m sick of having to take any kind of order from you.” He walked over and hit Chuckie in the ribs. I heard a crack. Chuckie hissed in pain. I shook from rage, and White squeezed my hand. I forced myself to relax.

  The sound of footsteps reached us. White and I moved back farther into the shadows. What looked like a platoon of men entered the room on the opposite side from us. I knew some of them, and the rest looked vaguely familiar. They were C.I.A. people I’d met over the course of the last year or so. None of them were part of the ETD, nor were they the top dogs elsewhere, but then again, the top dogs weren’t usually the ones who had to do a power play to get on top, just to stay there. All of them looked nasty, and there were more of them than there were of our guys.

  “Why are they all still alive?” the last man into the room asked. I knew the voice, and I knew him, at least, now—Cooper. He looked smug and bored. I managed not to hiss and attack, but it took the most effort so far. So now I knew who was in charge of all of this, at least from the C.I.A.’s side.

  �
��We don’t have what we need yet,” the fake Al Dejahl said.

  “Have one of the diplomats go to the Science Center, grab the spawn, grab the pregnant idiot, and nuke the place.” Cooper said this as if he were giving an order for a latte. I already hated this guy, but now I hated him even more for that and also for calling Jamie names. I was getting tired of everyone calling my baby “spawn.” They didn’t mean it in the cool, superhero way.

  “Katt’s there. She won’t let her daughter or granddaughter out of her sight.” I recognized this voice, a woman’s. Camilla stepped into the light. “You’ll need to draw them here, just like I told you.”

  “How the hell did they get warned, that’s what I want to know,” Cooper snarled. “I’d still like to know who fucked that up.” White and I looked at each other. He raised his eyebrow, and I shrugged.

  “I wouldn’t know,” Camilla snapped. “She went into labor early, not like I could pay attention to anything else and not have my cover blown.”

  I looked at the cell where the women were. It was hard to see from where we’d moved to, but I got the impression someone had her hand over Amy’s mouth.

  “My part worked as planned,” Gaultier said.

  “Really?” Cooper had a sarcasm knob, it seemed. “So it was part of your plan for your daughter to discover who we were actually targeting? And for her to alert every damned alien that it was time to go into lockdown?”

  Gaultier shrugged. “You wanted them herded. We herded.”

  “We didn’t want Reynolds or Katt alive when the herding started, you idiot.”

  “Your people left the clues for Amy to find. I just made the arrangements for her to go where it would be simple for her to make her discovery.” I could hear Amy crying. Apparently her father could, too. “Oh, stop blubbering. What did any of these people mean to you? You haven’t seen your supposed best friend for years. The rest of these are alien scum that don’t belong here anyway. Don’t worry . . . you’ll enjoy being princess of a new world.”