Kitty Katt 14: Alien Nation

by Gini Koch

  But the dogs felt there was something very special in here. They spread out to surround the table as best they could, with Prince staying in front of the door and Duke and Riley taking the long sides of the table.

  Dropped to my hands and knees to see a turtle-ish person standing there under the table, hunched over just a bit, hands out in that “don’t attack me, doggies” kind of way, looking freaked out. Close up, it looked kind of like a bright green Jiminy Cricket crossed with a frog, with two long fingers and one long opposable thumb on all four limbs and huge, teardrop-shaped teal eyes. However, the shell on its back said turtle. And it also looked familiar.

  In fact, it looked like the statue that had been delivered to my office.

  CHAPTER 23

  “HEY THERE, JIMINY, want to explain what you’re doing here before my big, brave puppies have some turtle soup?”

  The turtle turned its head fully toward me. “I’m here to escort you.”

  Well, that was a new one. “Um, escort me where?” The rest of those with me were also down on their hands and knees now, and Prince had come a lot closer to our newest visitor.

  “To meet my people. We’ve come to ask for asylum.”

  “Hey,” Garfield said, “we seen you before!”

  “Yes,” Mickey agreed, “we did. They were scuttling around before your people came in. No one believed us when we pointed them out.”

  “Because they’re drunks,” Kevin said quietly. “No one listens to the ravings from the drunk tank.”

  “Apparently this time someone should have. What’s your name?” I asked our visitor. “Because I’m just betting that though you kind of look like Jiminy Cricket, that’s not what your parents named you. And I’m presuming you have parents, so if that’s wrong, too, just let me know.”

  “I do have parents. My name is not Jiminy Cricket, but I don’t think you can pronounce it.” Sounded male, though I had no way of being sure if this was an accurate assessment or not. The females could sound like this for all we knew at this time.

  “Wow. I’m going officially on record that everyone on Earth is sick and tired of every visiting alien race sharing that we can’t pronounce their fabulous names. We have a lot of weird names on this planet, including those from countries that seem like they either don’t use vowels or don’t use consonants. So, you know, try me. Just for grins and giggles.”

  “Okay.” He opened his mouth and made a sound that reminded me of bubbles going through a water dispenser. He looked at me expectantly.

  “Um, yeah, okay, I have no idea what that was. Anyone else?” The general comments were that no one could translate whatever that sound had been. And the Universal Translators I’d discovered we all had implanted weren’t coming up with anything, either. “Well, while we may be sick and tired of it, in your case, at least, you’re right. So, what should we call you?”

  “Based on your many languages, I believe my name would translate to Muddy.”

  “Like Muddy Waters?”

  “I suppose so.” Muddy sounded unsure. “Fifteenth child born in mud is what my name means in my own language. If Waters is an ending name, however, that would not translate. I am from what I believe would translate as the Cabbage Clan.”

  I was unsure that Muddy Cabbage was as good a name as Jiminy Cricket. It certainly wasn’t as good as being Muddy Waters. However, I chose to use some of my hard-learned diplomacy, such as it was. “Then Muddy would be fine for us, and yes, Waters is a last name in the example I was using. But, do you like how that name sounds to you? Because if you don’t, now’s your chance to change it.”

  He stared at me. “You can change your names here?”

  “Um, yeah, in a lot of ways. But, since you’re new here and we literally have no idea of what to call you or your people, if you want us to call you something other than Muddy, we’re okay with that.”

  “I’d really like to know what planet Muddy is from,” Kevin said.

  “Oh, good point.” Waited. Muddy said nothing. He looked at me expectantly, however. “Fine. Who are your people and where are they from? Oh, and please respond to any of our questions, not just mine.”

  “As you wish. We are called the Turleens from the planet Tur. It’s in the system I believe you call Sirius.”

  “Are you the only sentient race on your planet or in your solar system?” Kevin asked.

  “No, there are others.” Muddy looked uneasy and sounded underwhelmed.

  My turn to ask a question that I didn’t have to repeat. “How many of them are coming to visit Earth?”

  “I have no idea. Do you feel we should change our names to be accepted by Earth?”

  I found the subject change back to naming conventions interesting, but Buchanan spoke before I could say anything else. “Can we get off the floor anytime soon? I’m sure Muddy or whatever he may choose to end up calling himself can tell us what his new name will be when we’re all standing.”

  Muddy looked at him. “Why do you need to stand up to have a meeting?”

  “You’re standing,” I pointed out.

  He nodded. “That’s true.” He took a step closer to me. Prince shared that Muddy was damn well close enough via a very intimidating growl. “I mean her no harm,” Muddy said. To Prince. Directly.

  Prince growled again, this time a little less threateningly. He wasn’t convinced.

  “There are indeed traitors in your midst,” Muddy said quietly. Wasn’t sure how many of the others could hear him. “But I’m not one of them.”

  “Where are your friends, the other two who were pretending to be statues in the police bathroom?”

  “They’re with your other friend,” Muddy said. “They are all searching the premises to make sure that there are no other traitors here.”

  “Do you mean John?”

  “I mean the Old One.”

  Old One was close enough to Ancient, and since the Ancients and Z’porrah had meddled all over the galaxy, Muddy knowing about them wasn’t a shocker. Which side he and his people were on was a far more important question. But it was one I figured I needed to sneak up to.

  “How did you deliver yourself to my office?”

  “My friends and I brought the box in, I got inside of it, and they sealed me in. I was hoping to speak to you privately.”

  “Interesting choice. Most people just call and make an appointment. Why didn’t the dogs smell you as anything organic?”

  “When our shells encase us or when we freeze, as I did while waiting for you, we appear to be made of metal. The metal is from our world, but it smells like metal on your world as well.”

  “You were in the police station,” Kevin said.

  “Good point. How did you get into the bathroom before we did, Muddy?”

  “My friends were in your bathroom, waiting by your transference system. When the others arrived,” he nodded toward the dogs, “they froze. They went to the police station once they realized you would be going there as well. It is imperative that we are able to plead our case to you and we wanted to ensure that you were safe. I followed behind you.”

  Couldn’t argue. The third turtle statue had indeed been behind me and near the gate, so this matched up. “Okay. So, how did you get in here, in this building, without the dogs knowing?”

  “We used your transference machine, the one at the police station. We felt it important to test first, to ensure we had adjusted it correctly.”

  “You were able to recalibrate the gate without issue?” Kevin asked suspiciously.

  “Yes. I and the two with the Old One did indeed do so. We needed to ensure that you would come here when you left.”

  “How?” Kevin asked. “It’s hard for a human to do, let alone someone who’s never seen a gate before.”

  “But we are not humans. We can see through your cloaking and we were careful. The cali
brations are not that complex.”

  Felt that this wasn’t quite true, but then again, maybe calibrating a gate wasn’t hard for Space Turtles.

  “You know that place blew up, the police station,” Buchanan said casually.

  Muddy looked horrified. “But . . . but there were others in there! Not traitors, just people! Who would do that?”

  “Are you saying that you didn’t?” Kevin asked.

  “Absolutely we did not! We are here to request amnesty, not to harm anyone. As I told you, I was coming to escort you. However, I saw that the traitors were with you and felt that I should be cautious and not present myself until I was sure that it would be safe to do so.”

  “Who are you accusing of being traitors?” Buchanan asked.

  “The ones who were working with the . . . thing . . . that exploded.”

  “Anyone with us in this room right now?” I asked.

  “No, they have gone with the others.” Muddy looked worried. “If they meet my people first it will not be good.”

  Thought fast. Sincerely doubted that any of my people were who Muddy felt were traitors. Besides, if they were people he’d spotted before, he’d only had his time in the police station for traitor spotting. “Were they in the cells or outside of the cells?”

  “Inside. They knew the thing. I saw them pass signals to each other.”

  “How many?” Kevin asked, sounding pissed. Felt his pain.

  “Two. Two males.”

  Process of elimination was fast and fairly simple. “If it’s not Mickey and Garfield here,” I indicated them and Muddy shook his head emphatically, “then that leaves the jocks or, as Melville called them, the classy drunks. Were they young men or older?”

  “I can’t tell your ages yet.” Muddy sounded apologetic.

  “Were they dressed like him,” I pointed to Kevin, who was, like all the other men who worked with Centaurion in some way, dressed in the Armani Fatigues, “or like me?”

  “Him,” Muddy said confidently.

  “Crap. My canine protectors, did you smell anything off about those DUI Dudes?”

  Prince wuffed, Riley whined, and Duke barked softly.

  “Huh. So they smelled human. But then again, so did the Casey-Bot. At least for a while.”

  Prince wuffed, whined, wuffed, and growled.

  “Interesting.”

  “What did he say?” Buchanan asked, in the long-suffering tone Jeff normally used when I had my Dr. Dolittle cape on.

  “That the dogs gave everyone in the conference room a thorough sniffing and everyone was what they presented as, human, A-C, hybrid. So while the DUI Dudes might be androids of some kind, I’m inclined to doubt it. Oh, and Muddy smells like a person now. Well, like a Turleen person. That’s how they were able to find him—he wasn’t ‘frozen’ and so had a living organism scent, versus metal. It takes a little while for the metal scent to wear off when they ‘unfreeze,’ so that causes some delays as well.”

  “Whatever that Casey Thing was, she looked human,” Kevin pointed out.

  “Yeah, but Prince picked up that she was wrong. It took him a little bit, but he did notice it. And the best officers of the law here were around the other prisoners a lot longer and they didn’t give off the wrong kinds of smells.”

  “So, does that mean that the Mastermind has infiltrated us again?” Kevin asked, sounding ready to bust some heads.

  Pondered this again. “No, actually. I’m pretty sure I know who the DUI Dudes are working with. But we need to get upstairs and outside, before they do what I’m betting they want to do.”

  CHAPTER 24

  UNDER THE CIRCUMSTANCES, speed was of the essence, and that meant elevators were too slow. Lorraine called for more A-Cs, who arrived in a moment. Apologized to Mickey and Garfield in advance as the A-Cs picked up the dogs, then the rest of us linked up and we all hypersped off to the entrance into Caliente Base. We were outside in the Arizona heat fast. Wished I’d had the foresight to put on extra sunscreen but since I hadn’t, just hoped that what I wore on a regular basis back in D.C. would suffice. It never had before, but hope liked to spring eternal.

  Unlike Dulce and most of the other A-C bases that all had a “ground floor” that made the building look mundane, Caliente technically started underground, with a wide tunnel that led into what looked like a low hill, which was the top level of the Base. The way in and out was camouflaged—not all that artfully hidden, really, but the entrance was just in the right spot to be missed if you weren’t looking exactly right. And I was sure there was some cloaking going on as well. Chuckie and I had searched in this area for years when we were teenagers, looking for signs of aliens. Well, he’d searched and I and our family’s dogs had gone along for the ride. But we’d never found anything.

  The Turleens seemed to know where the entrance was, however, since they were massed around it, still looking expectant. Their ability to see through cloaking that no human nor a wide variety of other aliens could see through seemed proven.

  Reached the others just as Reader was about to make first or, since I had Muddy with me, second contact. Stopped in between him and the Turleens. Lorraine and Claudia wisely stopped a bit away in a decent patch of shade so that Mickey and Garfield didn’t barf on our newest visitors. The dogs stayed with them, in a communal barfing pack. The dogs weren’t stupid, and shade was the best thing in the world in Arizona in the summertime.

  Took a look around. “Where’s Siler and Manfred?”

  “No idea,” Reader said. “I thought they were with you.”

  Managed not to curse as a new race’s first introduction to us, but it was a near thing. “Malcolm, Kevin, take some Field agents and find them. The two guys with them are Club Fifty-One True Believers.”

  They didn’t argue or ask if I was sure, just nodded and took off. Turned back to the Turleens, noting that Muddy wasn’t puking. Interesting. Wondered if they had hyperspeed and figured we’d find out. Up close I realized many of them weren’t green—some were yellow, yellow-green, and green-yellow, which Crayola had taught me were two very different colors. All neon, though.

  Was about to say hello when Muddy stepped forward and raised his hands. The rest of his people all came to what really looked like military attention. “My fellow Turleens, I rejoice to share that we have been granted an audience!”

  The Turleens patted themselves on their backs. Literally. Hands up over their shoulders, patting away. Based on the sound this made—metallic bongo drums—realized that what they were doing was banging on their shells. Presumed this was how this race applauded and decided to roll with it. Wondered how hot this felt to them, or if they were like the A-Cs and considered Arizona’s summer weather to be pleasant-to-cool.

  The back patting stopped. Muddy, arms still raised, spoke again. “Now we plead our case for asylum!”

  More weird bongo drumming. Wondered when he’d get around to saying my name. Realized I hadn’t actually given it to him. Figured it would be part of their introduction ceremony, whatever it was.

  Muddy’s hand were still up. “My fellow Turleens, I give you . . . the Queen of the World!” With that, he spun toward me and flipped his arms down in a very I Am Your Loyal Subject manner, accompanied by the most enthusiastic back patting yet from the rest of the crowd.

  The realization that being called Code Name: First Lady wasn’t nearly as bad as being called the Queen of the World hit me. Took a look around, just in case actual royalty had arrived. It hadn’t. Then again, Jeff was, technically, actual royalty, and I was his wife. Had a horrible feeling about where all this was going and that at least half of my diplomatic tour would be spent explaining that no one in the U.S. actually thought I was the queen of anything, let alone the world.

  Checked out Alpha Team’s expressions. Claudia and Lorraine were trying not to laugh. Reader and Tim appeared to be weighing the benefi
ts and risks of laughing while trying to also look official and in charge, with limited success. Expanded to the perusal of my team. Everyone else looked shocked or, in the cases of the working girls and homeless men, impressed. At least I had five people who were finding this awesome.

  Turned back to Muddy. “Ah . . . thank you?”

  He straightened up. As he did so, the rest of the Turleens all stopped banging their shells and now did their salaams to me. Found this incredibly unnerving and prayed there were no news helicopters or such nearby.

  “No,” Muddy said once the others were all bent over in supplication, “it is we who thank you. We have come to beg for your assistance. Assistance we know you have given to many.”

  Couldn’t deny that one, standing at the entrance to an A-C base, so I didn’t try. “Um, you do know that the decision isn’t only up to me, right?”

  “You are the Queen of the World. Of course the decision is up to you.” Muddy didn’t sound like he doubted this. I found this complete faith in my assumed role suspicious, especially since it was clear that he and his people had been observing us for quite some time.

  Leaned down and spoke quietly so, hopefully, only he would hear. “You’re all running from something really terrifying, aren’t you? So terrifying that you’re willing to do just about anything to get protection. Including pretending to be completely naïve as to who’s in charge of what and where. And I’m not buying it.”

  Straightened up, and stared at him.

  To his credit, he stared back. However, he wasn’t Mom and he wasn’t Chuckie and, to date, only those two had ever been able to outstare me, and even Chuckie couldn’t do it all of the time.

  Muddy was a fine stare opponent, but in the end, he blinked first. “You’re right,” he said softly. “We have observed your planet for centuries. Some of us have visited over the years, as well, pretending to be one of your Earth animals. We don’t stay too long, but we enjoy your planet. However, mass exodus has never been considered.”