Kitty Katt 14: Alien Nation

by Gini Koch

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “You should be so begging. Just loved your station’s attack this morning.” Was it only a few hours ago? Checked Mr. Watch. It was a special model that altered to whatever time zone it was in, the same as cell phones. It was now High Noon in Pueblo Caliente, meaning, yep, only a couple of hours had passed since I’d been in the LSR dealing with stress about the American Centaurion flag. How long ago and unimportant that seemed right now. “And I’m busy.”

  “I know, that’s why I’m calling.”

  “Because I’m busy or to apologize?”

  “Both, actually. I had no idea that my most recent media acquisition was so virulently anti-alien. Steps have already been taken and people have been fired. And if you’ll allow it, I’d like to send you an apology gift, as well.”

  Thought about this. “You want access you know I’m not going to give you.”

  He chuckled again. “Well, I hope that you’ll change your mind. I don’t want us to be enemies, Missus Martini, if I may speak to you in a familiar way. We started off as friends, and I’d like us to remain that way.”

  The way Tobin was talking you’d have thought that I’d worked under him when he was building his fast food empire or something, as opposed to my having met him at the start of Operation Infiltration, after he’d been chosen by the Board of Directors to take over YatesCorp. Considering when we’d met, and how, only an eternal optimist or a lying sack would have considered us pleasant acquaintances, let alone friends. And I knew he wasn’t that level of optimistic.

  I also wasn’t going to willingly let him send me a “gift” that would contain bugs, bombs, or both. “No gift is necessary, and we’re not chummy enough for you to get the pass to be so familiar. My friends call me Kitty. People I don’t know well but who I like get to call me Missus Martini.” Or White, when we were kicking butt. And Tobin was absolutely not in White’s special category. “Madame First Lady will do for you right now, Mister Tobin.”

  “As you wish. I’d prefer that you call me Amos. It breaks my heart that strangers have caused a rift between us, but I’ll be doing everything I can to repair it.”

  “Sure you will. Amos, what is it you actually want?”

  “Other than to apologize? I’d like to ask that news crews be allowed in to interview those involved in the firefight above Pueblo Caliente.”

  Hit the mute button. “Jeff, how have we managed to hold off media from getting close to what’s happened?”

  He shot me the “really?” look. “I told you. The CIA, the FBI, Secret Service, and our Field agents. We may have evacuated Caliente Base, but we didn’t all leave the area in general, and Chuck and Serene are here running point. I pulled in more Secret Service to ensure that the FBI would do what we wanted and just to have more bodies. Why are you even asking?”

  “Just trying to find out what’s going on that I didn’t know about.” Unmuted my phone. “Sorry, Amos, but right now, no press of any kind will be allowed in.”

  “Not even your Mister Joel Oliver or the Tastemaker?”

  There was something in the way he asked that made me be very cautious in how I replied. “Why would you be asking about them specifically?” Noted the four Secret Service agents communing and looking worried and pissed.

  “Oh, I just purchased the outlets they work for,” he replied cheerfully. “So they now work for me. Therefore, I’m asking on their behalf if they can come in and get the scoop.”

  Hit mute again. “It’s worse. Jeff, you need to contact MJO and Jenkins and see if they know that YatesCorp just bought their outlets. And Ev, what’s going on with you guys?”

  Jeff growled as he pulled his phone out and made a call.

  “We can’t track this,” Evalyne replied. “The device is working, but it’s blocked. And that should be impossible.”

  “Nothing, in my experience, is impossible. Check in with Chuckie and Malcolm.” Unmuted and went right back to my new dear friend who appeared to have a lot of stealth under the hood. “I’m hoping you’re about to give both men a raise, Amos. They’re the best.”

  “Well, if increasing their salaries would make you feel more kindly toward me, consider it done.”

  “That was an off-the-cuff comment, Amos, not my asking for a bribe in any way, shape, or form. Frankly, I’m sure every employee you have could use a pay increase and more paid time off.” If he was going to try to trap me then I was going to go all Norma Rae on him. “I think it’s time big business stopped treating its employees like cogs in a wheel. Corporations aren’t people—people are what make up corporations.”

  “If you say so.” He didn’t sound nearly as happy. Presumed he was recording this call, too, and while he could take me out of context, since I was also recording, he’d lose that battle. Assumed he was assuming I was recording as well. Stopped this line of thought before it made my head hurt.

  “I do. Raises for all, not just top management. All the way up and down every business you own, from the top dudes and dudettes down to the people doing the worst-paid jobs and all stops in between. Everyone gets more than a cost-of-living increase and more paid time off, regardless of who they are.”

  “Ah, while I applaud your support of the working man and woman, why do you want me to do that?”

  Ensured I sounded shocked and completely sweet. “Why, so that I know that you only have this country’s best interests at heart. Our country is only as strong and prosperous as her people, Amos. You know that.”

  “I was hoping to serve the war effort in other ways.”

  War effort. Meaning he knew that there had been some kind of fight between armed forces here. And/or that he knew that we had aliens arriving. No time like the present to find out.

  “What war are you referring to?”

  “The one that just began.”

  Not enough to go on. “Which one is that?”

  “The one that started over your hometown when foreign forces attacked an American Centaurion base.”

  Hit mute again. “Lorraine, need to know if the dudes in the Apaches were foreign or not.” She nodded and made a call. Claudia started texting. Unmuted. “Amos, my understanding was that the attack was perpetrated by our homegrown terrorists, Club Fifty-One True Believers.”

  “Ah, how interesting. But, you see, no one is allowed in, so we can’t verify that. Or anything else.”

  We were playing verbal chess, and he’d just moved his piece and called check.

  Jeff nudged me. “Oliver and Jenkins have no idea and are verifying what’s going on.”

  “James and Malcolm both confirm that the DUI Dudes and the living crews from this attack are working for Club Fifty-One True Believers,” Lorraine said.

  “I’ve verified that we have no interference,” Claudia added. “The tracker should be working. Dulce shows the tracker to be online and functioning, it’s just not getting any readings.”

  So much information, so little of it helpful to my current situation. “Amos, the people in charge do feel that the attacks were perpetrated by Club Fifty-One True Believers. You can roll with that story. Otherwise, they don’t feel that press will be helpful at this time.”

  “So you’re saying that the Office of the President doesn’t want press in at this time?”

  Damn, he was good at this. Better than Somerall. I’d had no issues diverting and ignoring Somerall. The YatesCorp Board of Directors had chosen really well when they’d picked Tobin.

  “No, the Office of the President is not in charge of specific battles, skirmishes, and so forth. The CIA, FBI, and local law enforcement are on the scene. We need to bow to their authority since this is their bailiwick.”

  “Ah, I do understand. Tell me, though—out of the CIA, FBI, local law enforcement, Centaurion Division, and the Office of the President, who has the authority over the new aliens who just arrived?�
�

  Checkmate.

  CHAPTER 31

  TIME TO ONCE AGAIN follow my father’s advice of avoiding answering a question with a question of your own. “Amos, if I may ask, where are you located right now?”

  “Me? I’m in D.C.”

  “In which case, I’d like to know your thoughts on the fact that a D.C.P.D. precinct was blown up earlier today.”

  Silence. Possibly Tobin was hitting mute to ask his cronies or advisors what to say.

  Hit mute myself. “I need Chuckie here, faster than fast.”

  Claudia zipped off at hyperspeed while Lorraine sent a text. Claudia was back with Chuckie, Reader, and Tim in three seconds. Christopher arrived immediately after, asking Lorraine what was going on and why she’d asked him to get here ASAP. Sadly, Tobin came back to our call as they arrived, so I had no time to share. Indicated that the others should share what they knew amongst each other. Jeff and Muddy did most of the talking, albeit quietly.

  “Are you saying that the bombing was done by aliens?” Tobin asked.

  “Hardly, Amos. The bombing, like the attack, was done by Club Fifty-One True Believers.”

  “He’s friendly with Gutermuth,” Chuckie said quietly.

  Nodded and spoke again before Tobin had a chance to reply. “Harvey Gutermuth and Farley Pecker are friends of yours, aren’t they, Amos?”

  “Well, I’m friendly with a lot of people,” Tobin said in that backpedaling way so near and dear to most politicians’ hearts. Wasn’t sure who’d learned it first, captains of industry or captains of countries, but the effect was the same. Prepped myself to start hearing a lot of BS.

  “True enough. But I’d like to know where you stand in terms of your relationship with Gutermuth, Pecker, Pecker’s church, and Gutermuth’s anti-alien organization. And I’d like to know now, and in exact detail.”

  Hit mute because I’d managed to salvage my chess match with a pawn and now was the time to put all my sales training into effect. Once the offer was made, the question asked, or the definitive statement stated, whoever talked next lost. I was not about to talk next.

  To Tobin. To the others, hell yeah, I was going to talk.

  Everyone was caught up with what was going on with the Turleens and all the other alien races coming to hide, help, or eat, so it was time to get caught up on everything else. Double-checked that the phone was on mute. It was. And presumably Tobin was, unlike most of his cronies, trained in the same sales technique I was and was no more willing to lose than I was.

  “All prisoners are at Guantanamo now,” Reader said. “We used a floater to get them there, and the flyboys did the escort. Your Uncle Mort is there, too. The flyboys will join us here once the handoff is officially complete.”

  “Good, that should mean our homegrown terrorists will be having the Worst Day Ever. Is Serene alone at the scene, though?”

  “No,” Claudia said. “She called in troubadours and they’re assisting Field agents along with all the CIA and FBI agents and local law. She’s got it under control.”

  “Caliente Base is completely cleared,” Christopher shared. “Looks like minimal damage, though there is some. It’ll take the Operations Team to fully determine what needs fixing and what doesn’t.”

  “Tobin is still not responding?” Chuckie asked. “It’s been at least two minutes since you stopped talking.”

  “Nope. And the call is still live.” Triple-checked. “And still on mute.”

  Chuckie rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m not used to anyone outlasting you, Kitty. Are we sure he’s not dead?”

  “No, but I’m sure I don’t care.”

  “He said he was in D.C.?” Christopher asked slowly.

  “Yeah, why?”

  “Media centers are New York and L.A. If he just took over Oliver’s paper, they’re L.A. based. Jenkins is syndicated out of New York, but they have a satellite office in L.A., too.” Christopher looked thoughtful. “And they’re not the only ones.”

  “Meaning Tobin was lying and is in California. What does that mean or matter?”

  “Means I’ll be right back.” Christopher zoomed off.

  “What is he doing?” I asked in general.

  Jeff sighed. “Give him his moment in the sun.”

  “Not trying to deny him sun moments, Jeff. Just have no idea what he’s thinking.”

  “I’m sure it’s relevant,” Reader said. “I’m also sure he’s gone to California.”

  “Guess we have time to wait,” Tim said.

  “He can run around the world without any issues these days,” I pointed out.

  “Your people are most amazing,” Muddy said politely. “So many things you can do that others cannot.” Pondered why he was saying this at this precise time. Muddy might look cute and goofy but that was an act, his race’s protective coloration. Muddy was quite sharp, and he reminded me a lot of White, meaning he wasn’t saying anything without a reason.

  “Thanks,” Jeff said. “We try.”

  “You succeed,” Phoebe said. “And since we’re waiting for whatever we’re waiting for, I have to mention that once again being saved by the people we’re supposed to be protecting is, at best, humiliating.”

  “Yeah, I’ve given up feeling that I can ever be good at my job again,” Joseph agreed. Evalyne and Rob both nodded emphatically.

  “Apparently any alien can do more than a human,” Evalyne added.

  Rob looked at me. “Well, a normal human.”

  Felt bad that, once again, we were making these people feel inferior. “Inferiority.” Looked at Muddy. “That’s going to be the issue we have to deal with.”

  “I don’t follow you,” Muddy said.

  Wasn’t sure that this was true—in fact was willing to bet he’d started this particular conversation to lead us right to this conclusion—but chose not to argue. “Humans feel inferior to most aliens. That’s the underlying emotion behind all the anti-alien groups—they fear that the aliens are better than them.”

  “They’re better looking,” Tim said dryly. “Some of us learn to live with it.”

  “And some adapt,” Lorraine said, pointedly looking at me.

  “Didn’t really have much of a choice in that.”

  “Why hasn’t Amy mutated?” Claudia asked. Everyone looked at her. “What? I figured we were just hanging out, waiting to see who blinks first between Kitty and Tobin, discussing inferiority issues and adaptation. I can’t be the only one wondering.”

  “You’re not,” Chuckie said. “I have a theory but I haven’t been able to speak to the people who would be able to confirm it.”

  “Who can’t you reach?” I asked.

  Chuckie shook his head and sighed. “You were there, with me and Christopher, and you’re asking?”

  Considered this. “Oh. You mean you want to talk to one of the katyhoppers on Beta Eight.”

  “Yes. But I think my theory is sound, even if we don’t get to confirm it with Boz or the others.”

  “And that theory is?” Jeff asked, Commander in Chief Voice on Full.

  Chuckie rolled his eyes, but before he could answer his phone rang. “It’s Christopher,” he told us as he answered. “What’s up? Oh? Really?” Chuckie’s eyes narrowed. He reached out, took my phone from me, and hung up the call. “Yes, you’re authorized. Consider yourself an official CIA consultant and an official agent should anyone ask. See you shortly.” He hung up, eyes flashing.

  “Do we want to know?” I asked.

  “Well, Christopher’s hunch paid off. Tobin wasn’t in D.C. but in Los Angeles. Not at the headquarters for where Oliver works but at the YatesCorp offices that are right next door.”

  “Why did I hang up on him?”

  “Because he was tracking the call. That’s why he was willing to play the ‘don’t speak’ game—the longer you were on
the phone, the more accurately he could pinpoint our location. And, as we already knew, he was also blocking his location, via some very sophisticated equipment.”

  “I should have thought of that.”

  “No,” Reader said. “That’s not your job. It’s mine.”

  “Frankly,” Evalyne said, “it’s also ours.”

  Chuckie rolled his eyes again. “Stop it with the blame game. I’m the Director of the CIA now. Seriously, if we want Jeff to be angry with someone, choose me.”

  “I’m angry with Tobin, not anyone here,” Jeff said. “What did you authorize Christopher to do?”

  “Arrest Tobin on charges of wiretapping the First Lady. And to confiscate all of his surveillance and scrambling equipment.”

  “That’s a serious charge,” Joseph said.

  “As I recall, it’s along the lines of treason. And that should carry a penalty with it.” I sincerely hoped, at any rate.

  “Not that we’re saying he doesn’t deserve to be brought up on that charge,” Rob added.

  “Glad we’re all in agreement. Was Tobin alone, do you know?”

  “Christopher didn’t say,” Chuckie said, “but he’d called in Field agents. We have every Centaurion base in the world on high alert right now. He didn’t have to wait long.”

  “Where did Christopher take Tobin?” I asked Chuckie.

  “Why?” Jeff countered.

  “Because he wasn’t in on the Blow Up Caliente Base Plan, which is probably more of a Blow Up Kitty Wherever She May Be Plan, so I’m curious as to what his game is. As in, is there more to it than just whipping up the ol’ anti-alien frenzy or trying to accuse Lizzie of being a teenaged terrorist?”

  “Oh, good point,” Chuckie said.

  “I’m not following it.” Jeff heaved a sigh. “Explain what you mean. And someone find out where Christopher’s taken Tobin. And anything else we actually might need to know.” Claudia, Lorraine, Reader, and Tim nodded and all started texting. Apparently not to be outdone, the Secret Service agents started texting, too.

  “Tobin was tracing my phone to find out where I was. If he was part of the Club Fifty-One True Believers plan, then he’d know already. There’s no logical reason for him to try to track me if he’s a part of it, because even if they were trying to send a specific bomb to blow us all up, they already freaking know where we are.”