Alien Tango

by Gini Koch

  “Brian’s been talking about your reunion. I . . . I’ve been thinking about you a lot.”

  I managed not to say, “No kidding,” but it took effort. “Okay, so we came within range and, what? My face appeared?”

  “Yes. I couldn’t see who you were with at first. But I’ve seen pictures of Alfred’s son and nephew.”

  “You can call us Jeff and Christopher,” Martini said dryly.

  “Where have you seen their pictures?”

  “In Alfred’s office. He has a book with pictures of them from when they were babies up until now.”

  I looked over my shoulder. Martini looked stunned. Risked a glance to my left. Christopher was the same. “Who else could you see with us?”

  “Their cousin and his boyfriend. Alfred has some pictures of them, too.”

  “Did he show them to you?”

  “Oh, yes, I didn’t sneak in to look or anything. But I’m filling in as his admin, and he showed them to me. He has pictures of all his family, but he has the most of, um, Jeff and Christopher.” She said their names like she was both afraid and a little thrilled. Maybe I was jaded—I didn’t find either one of them imposing, but then again, I didn’t find the Sovereign Pontifex imposing, either.

  “Why?” I figured one of us should ask.

  She was quiet for a few moments. “Because he says he almost never sees them, so he has his pictures to look at. He looks at them every day. Even more than the ones of his grandchildren, and he looks at their pictures a lot.”

  I didn’t look at either one of them. “Okay, so you could identify Jeff, Christopher, Paul, and James. Could you see anyone else with us?” I was driving the conversation instead of Christopher, but I had to figure he and Martini were still dealing with the news that Alfred, at the least, loved and missed them far more than he’d ever told them.

  “No. I can only see the person I’ve seen before. I can’t hear, only see. So I could tell by the way you were all moving and looking that there were other people with you, but I couldn’t see them.”

  “Now, this will be an uncomfortable question, but we do expect an answer. When you tossed that bomb at me and Brian, you could see every person with us, couldn’t you?”

  “Yes.” Her voice was low. “I didn’t know it would be so big.”

  “What would be?” Christopher asked. His voice was strained.

  “The explosion. I created a floater.”

  “A floater?” Martini sounded confused. Not good.

  “A bomb, small, invisible. I control it using simple transistors, like for those motorized toy cars. I didn’t think it would be so powerful.”

  “You use cloaking technology to make it invisible?” Christopher’s voice was taut.

  “Yes.”

  “Who knows about this, other than you? That you’ve created it, I mean?” Martini asked. His voice was very soothing, but I could feel that he was tensed.

  “I don’t think anyone. I worked on it at night.”

  “At home?”

  “No, at the Center.”

  I thought about it and got a bad feeling in my stomach. “Serene, you’re a typical A-C woman, right?”

  “I guess so.”

  “I mean, by human standards, you’re drop-freaking-dead gorgeous, right?”

  “I suppose.” She sounded embarrassed.

  “So, a pretty girl’s staying late working on a special project. I just can’t believe all of those many male security guards waltzed on home and told her to lock up and not let the alligators bite on the way out.”

  “Oh. No. Mr. Turco would stay late with me. Or Frank.”

  “Frank Taft, right?”

  “Right. I, um, think he maybe wanted to ask me out.” She now sounded really embarrassed. “But, uh. . . . ”

  “He’s too damned stupid to interest you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Thank God.” Truly. I could see how this was unfolding, and it was horrible scary. “Okay, Serene, you need to listen to me, and you have to, and I mean have to, trust me. Can you do that?” I looked at Christopher and Martini—they’d made the same assumptions, I could tell, by their expressions.

  “I . . . I don’t know.”

  CHAPTER 54

  “SERENE, what do you think we’re going to do to to you?” Martini asked, voice very gentle.

  “I don’t know. Arrest me?” She sounded scared, and I could tell she was crying again. “I didn’t mean to try to kill you, I just wanted to scare you and make you go away.”

  “Listen to me. We have to get you. The hell with your little Unrequited Love from Hell routine. You are marked for death or worse, and not by us. Frank’s father is the head of Club 51.”

  “Oh, right. He invited me to go to a rally of theirs, but Brian said it didn’t sound like any fun, so I said no.”

  It was worse. “Did he ask you after he’d stayed late helping you?”

  “Yes, that’s when I got to know him. He said he didn’t like most A-Cs but he liked me.”

  Much, much worse. “Serene, honey, Club 51 is a huge anti-alien conspiracy organization. They believe that aliens are here, and, yes, I know, true, but you’re hiding in plain sight, normal humans don’t believe, blah, blah, blah. The humans who do believe are crazy.”

  “But Frank works with us. Of course he believes.”

  “Yes, and so does his father. That makes them dangerous. To all the A-Cs and to you personally.” I knew where she was, where she had to be. But others might as well.

  Martini moved me off his lap. “Serene, they tried to kill Alfred today, and me. And they used one of your bombs to do it.”

  She gasped. “There’s no way! I have them set to a specific frequency. And I only set off the one.”

  “Great, but we all almost died,” Christopher snapped.

  “Do any of them have something in them, something like a gas, that would knock out a human faster than an A-C?”

  “No, but we have that gas already.” She was so matter-of-fact. It was so easy to see why Reid and people like him wanted to turn Centaurion into the War Division—they were halfway there all by themselves and without realizing it.

  “What was it created for?” Martini asked.

  “Experimental. For dangerous situations—we were hoping to put human astronauts into suspended animation while leaving the A-Cs alone. We’re also working on one that does the opposite, but it’s not perfected yet.”

  It had gone from worse to “Oh My God” in seconds. “Okay, look, I can’t think of a way to get through to you other than this. You’re in the most extreme danger there is, and if we don’t get to you, someone else will. Then I can promise you’ll never see Brian again because they’ll kill you or, worse, they’ll kill him to make you do what they want.”

  She was quiet again. “He’s asleep. He’s fine.”

  “Serene . . . look for Turco and Taft.”

  “They’re not nearby.”

  One small thing—they were presumably still under lock and key and far away. But that just meant people she didn’t know were close by. “Serene, do you have hyperspeed?”

  “Yes, but I can only run five miles.”

  “We’re fifty away,” Martini said softly. “If she’s where we all think she is.”

  “Okay . . . we’re coming to you. Me, Jeff, Christopher, and Brian, at least. Maybe more, maybe our whole team.”

  “But, you don’t know where I am.”

  “Lighthouse.” The three of us said it in unison.

  “Oh. Yeah.”

  I looked at Christopher. “Get the others awake and dressed, pronto.” He disappeared. “Jeff, put on a shirt and shoes. Serene, are you at the top?” I pulled on socks and my Converse. They were still gross, but I had a feeling they were going to get grosser soon.

  “Yes, so I can see better, both ways.”

  “Okay . . . is anyone there with you?”

  “No.” She sounded uncertain. “Well, I did hear something while I was waiting for you to cal
l back. But I didn’t pay a lot of attention.” Because she was watching me and Martini do triple-X porn, but that was beside the point. “There might be someone at the base, but I can’t tell.”

  “Serene, I’m the head of all Field operations.” Martini’s Commander voice was activated. “This is now officially a Field situation, and I’m giving you a direct order. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.” She sounded scared. First sane thing she’d done all night.

  “You are not, I repeat not, to go with anyone other than those in Alpha or Airborne teams. If you don’t know them, don’t believe them. If you haven’t seen them with us, don’t trust them. Run, fight, scream, be very afraid if someone comes near you. You will come with us when we get there, but until then, your orders are to remain alive and unkidnapped.”

  “Yes, sir.” There was no irony in her voice.

  “Kitty, keep her on the phone and talking. Serene, I want you talking about Brian. No more discussions of your powers or the bombs. Start now.”

  “Okay . . . um . . . I really like Brian.”

  “No kidding. I’m taking you off speaker, it’s just going to be you and me.”

  “Okay. Am I in trouble?”

  “Girl, I’m scared to death for you, and you tried to kill me all day. You do the math.”

  “Oh, God.”

  “Prattle, okay? Talk to me as if I were Helen, like you’re telling me why you adore him, okay? Jeff wants you faking it in case they’re close to you. Don’t get so wrapped up that you stop paying attention.”

  “Okay.” She took a deep breath and started a litany of Brian’s virtues. I listened with one ear. The other was busy listening to Martini and Christopher move everyone out. Our whole team was going—we had no idea if we were safe or not, and we didn’t want our human operatives in danger. But we were going in shifts.

  Martini, Christopher, Brian, and I were going at top speed. Brian had both insisted, and it was logical—she would come to him, that was a given. A part of me wondered if we were rescuing a girl or a spooked Labrador; then I thought about it, and figured, in one sense, she was a combo. Gower, Michael, and the girls would bring everyone else. The girls had their med kits, the boys had some guns, I had my purse. Everyone was set.

  Martini grabbed my hand, Christopher grabbed Brian, and we were off, but at a speed Brian and I could handle. It was hard to hear Serene going this fast, but I could tell she was still relatively okay, because we were on to Brian’s advanced degrees and good-Catholic-boy nature.

  It was dark and I’d never been here before, so I had no idea what we were flashing past. Fifty miles for Martini and Christopher was nothing, but I was more on Serene’s level—five miles if it was a good day. Of course, if the situation called for quick bursts of speed or leaping over obstacles in the path, I was your girl.

  I kept my eyes closed in the hope that it would keep me from passing out. It allowed me to concentrate more on Serene.

  “So, um, I was wondering if you think Brian might ever like me. Or if, you know, I should go for a guy like Frank. Or even an older guy like Frank’s father.” Her voice was more urgent.

  “Oh, hell. Jeff, Howard Taft’s there!” We sped up to A-C warp speed.

  “Not right yet. But soon.” Serene sounded terrified. “Kitty, help me!”

  Pity we were going so fast I was starting to black out. I shoved the phone at Martini. He grabbed it and me and kept on going. I knew without looking that Brian was already over Christopher’s shoulder. And as I passed out, I knew that it still might not be enough.

  CHAPTER 55

  I WOKE UP ON GRASS, with someone massaging my neck. After the few seconds of reorientation, I realized the hands massaging me didn’t belong to Martini. They weren’t doing nearly as effective a job.

  “Jeff and Christopher have gone in,” Brian said, his voice taut. “I woke up first.” I realized I could see him pretty clearly and looked up. Full moon. Made the crazies even crazier, as my parents had always told me.

  Martini was back. “She’s gone. The phone went dead, too.” He sounded frustrated and worried.

  “Track on terror.”

  “I’m trying, but . . . ”

  “But she’s looking at Brian because she’s scared, and so she’s concentrating on him, on her power, not on what you need to track.” I sat up. “Bri, kiss me.”

  “WHAT?” Three male voices shouted that in unison.

  “Brian, kiss me. Jeff, track on total unhinged rage.” I grabbed Brian and planted a wet one on him.

  His arms went right around me, and we were making out, just like when we were teenagers. I could remember what kissing him was like now. It was good, but not Christopher good and nowhere close to Martini, who was the Mount Olympus of kissers as far as I was concerned.

  “Got her.” Martini grabbed me and wrenched me out of Brian’s arms. We raced off again. “Do I believe that was for the greater good?”

  “Jeff, seriously, they’re going to kill her, or, worse, they’re going to turn her into their Little Miss Weapon of Mass Destruction, and you know it.”

  “Yeah. He didn’t seem to mind.”

  “Can we discuss this after I wake up again?” My vision was starting to go to pinpoint.

  He swung me up into his arms again. “Hang on, baby.” He slowed down. “Christopher, is Brian still conscious?”

  “Yeah, just barely.”

  Martini cursed. “I can’t believe I have to suggest this. Brian, you and Kitty stay here and make out.” He put me down. “Just try not to enjoy it, okay?”

  “Um, okay. Be careful.”

  “Always.” Martini and Christopher were gone again.

  I looked at Brian. “Let’s go.” I put my arms around him, and he started kissing me again. “Um, Bri? A little less real enthusiasm, okay?”

  He squeezed my butt. “You sure?”

  “Yes. We are faking it, ’cause she can’t hear us or pick up our emotions.” I nuzzled him. “Pretend you’re a spy or something.”

  “I’d rather pretend you wanted to do this.” His hands were moving.

  “Brian, if you touch my boobs, I’ll knee you so hard you’ll wish you were dead.”

  He sighed. “Fine.” He kissed me again, still with a great deal of enthusiasm. I wasn’t returning it. This surprised me a bit. When Christopher and I had lost it in the elevator, I’d responded like Queen of the Sluts. But being with Brian like this didn’t feel illicit—it felt like work.

  He pulled away. “There is absolutely no spark, is there?”

  “Not on my side, no. And I just heard the list of your many accomplishments and strengths.” I cuddled up, lest Serene realize we were doing this to save her life. “I realize she’s several comics short of a complete collection, but are you really that blind? Or that xenophobic?”

  “I’m not xenophobic!”

  “Um, they’re aliens, and you don’t want to date her because she’s an alien. I can’t think of a better definition of xenophobia.”

  “I can. Besides, I didn’t know she liked me.”

  “Yes, you did. Or you would have if you hadn’t spent the last decade mooning over me. It’s so nice to be someone’s perfect woman. Only, I’m not perfect, so whatever you’re mooning over isn’t me, just what you’ve chosen to imagine as me.”

  He was running his hands over my back and in my hair, squeezing my butt, even thrusting against me. But I could tell he was acting now.

  “Yeah, I guess.” He sighed. “I had this fantasy of how I’d win you back.”

  “I’m sure. Don’t tell it to me, I don’t want to know.”

  “Well, I didn’t think it would be anything like this. I can’t believe you’re working with Centaurion Division, let alone one of the ones in charge.” He sounded amused.

  “Um, why not?” Tried not to be insulted. Failed.

  “I don’t know. Just didn’t seem like your thing.”

  “What did seem like my thing?” Tried not to get pissed off. Failed.r />
  “I’m not trying to insult you. But, like Conspiracy Chuck. I mean, what could that guy be doing other than still living in his parents’ house and haunting UFO sites? Maybe working at a Circle-K.”

  “Chuckie worked at Circle-K in college.” Tried not to anticipate my next statements with joy. Failed.

  “See?”

  “He went into their management program in our freshman year, left it in junior year, and started his own local convenience store as his upper-level class project. This turned into a state-wide chain before graduation. Got bought out by Circle-K five years ago for undisclosed multimillions. He lives half the year in Australia and half the year in D.C. He sends me nice presents from Europe and Australia all the time. He’s also taken me to Vegas, skiing in Aspen and Vail, and to New York. Because, in addition to the first multimillions, he made another whopping set of millions in the stock market. He’s not Bill Gates level . . . yet . . . but if you want to know who should win ‘Most Successful’ at the reunion, it’s him.”

  Maybe I should have married Chuckie, now that I thought of it. Sure, he’d been joking when he’d suggested it, but we did have a lot in common, his parents adored me and mine adored him, and no one would ever think he was a geek these days. Ah, well, another opportunity gone.

  “You’re kidding!”

  “No, I’m not. You saw a geek. I saw a cool guy with similar interests.” Tried not to anticipate his next question. Failed.

  “Did you date him?” Brian sounded horrified.

  “No.” Thank God he hadn’t asked if I’d slept with him. Dating and a wild fling in Vegas for a week were not the same things. I tried to remember why we hadn’t flung more. Couldn’t. Oh well. Sex with Martini had pretty much wiped out my clear memories of the men who’d come before him. Though, if I tried, it wasn’t all that hard to remember the fling—before Martini, Chuckie had been the gold standard. Still the best human male I’d ever been intimate with. Which would have begged the “why didn’t we do it more” question if we weren’t in a life-and-death situation.

  “Well, good.”

  I noted another difference between Martini and Brian—Martini absolutely would have asked if I’d slept with Chuckie. Because he knew me better than Brian. Chuckie knew me better than Brian, too. Chuckie might know me better than Martini, but, again, not the right time to ponder that. Frankly, it was easier to come up with those who didn’t know me better than Brian than those who did.