"You had to scare me worse than I was already," he grumped.
"We'll get through this," I patted his shoulder. "At least I hope we will."
"Right."
"You think this outfit is all right?" I asked.
"You look perky," he grinned.
"Great. Perky. Not one of my usual attributes."
"No, it fits her character. She's the youngest of three girls. I looked through a lot of photographs of her, and that's exactly how she is."
"I hate doing bubbly," I sighed. "I'm the sarcastic, older sister type."
"I disagree," he said. "And, I haven't had my reading fix in a long time," he complained.
"Honey, I don't know when or if I'll ever get back to writing again."
"Dang."
"Did you say dang? I haven't heard that in a possum's age."
"Stop with the hillbilly," he grinned.
"You started it."
"Okay, you're right. Here we are," he drove up to the employee entrance. "Have your badge ready-that's Secret Service there at the door, waiting to check everybody."
"Will do, boss," I quipped.
"I get you all to myself for a talk, and it had to be on the day the President died," he said as I opened the door.
"Honey, we'll get to the bottom of this," I promised.
"I sure hope so. I'll be here to pick you up later; just let me know when."
I nodded, straightened my perky outfit, shut the car door and walked toward the frowning Secret Service agent at the employee entrance.
* * *
That morning, I saw twenty faces in detail before lunchtime. None of them had anything to do with Madam President's death.
"Laura, we have a lunch appointment with the President," the Chief of Staff, Kyle Lakin, informed me when the line of interviewees dissipated.
I found myself scrambling to get used to the name and title assigned to me.
"Yes, sir," I nodded and rose to follow him to the Oval Office.
"Anything?" the former Vice President asked when Kyle and I stood before his desk.
"No sir. Nothing yet," I reported.
"Damn." He cursed and stood to pace behind the President's desk. "I trust you'd let someone know if I or anyone you come across has been compromised?" He turned back to ask.
"Yes, sir."
"Good. Make sure it stays that way."
"Sir, I'd like to meet everyone assigned to guard you, and everyone you're scheduled to have contact with in the days to come," I said.
"You're that good?" The Chief of Staff asked.
"She's that good," President Jonathan Granville stated. "She's the reason the PM of Great Britain and I survived the attempt on our lives in London."
"Thank you, sir. One more thing, if I may," I said.
"Of course," he inclined his head and sat down again.
"I'd like to review your choices for Vice President. Just as a precaution," I said.
"I think I'll allow that," he agreed.
* * *
"How was your day?" James asked when he picked me up at eight that evening.
"Long. I need sunlight," I said. Auggie, Rafe, Matt and Val were in meetings with the President all afternoon, but I didn't see them. I only heard from Val in mindspeech. He probably needed sunlight, too.
"I'm taking you to the ugly building in Arlington," James said. "Colonel Hunter says President Granville wants you at the White House every day until further notice. The real Laura Quimby's vacation has been extended in Scotland."
"She's on board with all this?"
"I believe Matt told her it's a matter of National Security. She's been to the American Embassy there, where a new passport with an alias has been provided for her, and all her vacation expenses have been comped. All she has to do is keep quiet that she's really someone else."
"Poor girl," I sighed. "Can't even use her real name because a Larentii borrowed it. And, on top of everything else, Mr. Snaky Pants Norian Keef will be here in two days."
"Snaky Pants?"
"He keeps his alter ego hidden, but he's a lion snake shapeshifter. He's sort of an asshole, too, but don't tell him I said that. I'll tell him myself."
"You think I'll end up meeting this guy?" James sounded worried as he turned a corner.
"Nothing would surprise me at this point. What we have to do is get to him before he can cause trouble and show him exactly what his shiny agents did while they were here. All of which resulted in their deaths."
"Do Larentii do this sort of thing all the time?"
"No, honey. Larentii have a four-word standard they all live by. Stay. Out. Of. It. They don't interfere as a rule unless they are threatened in some way, or their mate is threatened. Somehow, I've been given special permission to be here, and Val was allowed to come with me."
"Wow. What's the Larentii homeworld like, then?"
"Imagine an Earth with no industry, no shopping, no streets or roads-just wild, with tree-covered mountains and wide, open meadows where falaca graze. The houses they build, well, think of the marble buildings in Rome, with most of the roof open to the sky. They don't need kitchens or bathrooms, so anything in their home is purely for other comforts."
"Television?"
"None. Their version of television is folding space to another world and watching real people. Most of the time, those people don't even know they're there. I wish you could read some of their histories in the Archives-they're written from a neutral standpoint, because there's nothing for the Larentii to gain by slanting the story in one direction or another."
"That's incredible," James breathed. "Wow." He shook his head at the thought of it.
"Val's father is Chief Archivist there. It's scary what he knows and has seen. Val is one of his four sons, all of whom are Assistant Archivists."
"Where do you think you'll go for sunlight?" James asked as we pulled up to a stoplight.
"I don't know. Val likes Hawaii."
"Can I go?" he asked wistfully.
"You know, Nathan probably needs a break, too," I said. "Why don't we take both of you?"
* * *
"We just decided-we want our wedding here," James floated by in the pool fed by Val's favorite waterfall. He and Nathan were both naked and swimming-or in James' case, floating, while Val and I soaked up sunlight. At Val's insistence, we were both naked and our full, blue selves.
"Hawaii is beautiful," Val agreed. "Of course you should marry where you feel happy and at peace."
"That's as good an excuse as anything we could come up with," Nathan stopped swimming for a moment to tread water and talk.
"I'll make sure it's paid for," I said.
"I still have money in that account you opened for me," James said. "We decided to use that for the wedding."
"Then we're good." I leaned against Val's chest and closed my eyes with a sigh.
"Holy shit," James breathed.
I opened my eyes to see what had happened.
In this case, it was what had arrived.
"I am a who," Kalenegar, Head of the Larentii Council, declared. Ridding himself of his clothing with a thought, he sat beside Val and me. "Continue frolicking," he waved a hand at James and Nathan. "Have sex if you want. Larentii are surprised by nothing."
I clapped a hand over my mouth-it wasn't polite to guffaw. At least I didn't think it was.
"Lean back, close your eyes and rest," Valegar said, pulling me closer. "Kalenegar is here to feed with us."
I opened my eyes again. "You know there are some politicians," I said to Kalenegar, "who think that sharing our sunbeam here will deplete the amount of sunlight available for all of us."
Kal studied me for a moment before his eyes lit with humor and he smiled. "Tell that to the plants," he chuckled and turned his face toward the light.
"His cock is huge," I heard Nathan whisper to James.
I collapsed against Val, laughing.
* * *
Ilya
"Cabbage?" I found her si
tting in the kitchen at the ugly building in Arlington. It was obvious that wherever she'd gone with Valegar, she'd taken James and Nathan with her. Both sat beside her at the island while eating soup and sandwiches from a nearby deli.
"We have some for you, too," she turned and gave me a smile.
"We went to Hawaii," James explained. "I feel so relaxed, now."
"Roast-beef?" I asked, heading for the white paper bags stacked on one end of the island.
"I got two for you," she said. "Plus au jus if you want to dip."
"That sounds wonderful." I opened bags to find dinner. "Do we have anything to drink?"
"Depends on what you want," she said.
"I'll take whatever you have."
"I'll have some, too," Leo Shaw walked into the kitchen. "Everybody here, now?"
"We're all here. I should take Nathan back to Canada later, but that can wait," Corinne said. "You need something?"
"I'll go back to Canada with Nathan, then," Leo said. "I hear things may be a bit strained, there."
"If Finch would stop being an ass," James said.
"Leo, you need to watch Dr. Farrell," Corinne suggested. "I think he's having issues, since he's only now learning that Jen isn't Maye."
"That concerns me," he said. "In fact, it was a call from him that turned my attention back to Canada."
"I'll take you. Call if you need me afterward, too," she offered. "I don't want him stalking Jen or giving anyone she's interested in a hard time."
"Understood. Did you learn anything at the White House, today?"
"Nothing significant," she shrugged.
Taking my sandwich and au jus from a bag, I took the barstool next to Corinne. "Did you decide what you wanted to drink?" she asked while Dr. Shaw rummaged through the bags for a sandwich.
"How about Macallan?" I asked.
"Thirty year," she held out a hand and a bottle appeared there. "Glass with ice," she said as those items appeared in her other hand.
"I love you," I said while opening the bottle.
"Just as long as it's you," she sighed. I understood exactly what she meant. The other me-the obsessed me-terrified her. I sipped excellent Scotch before turning back to her. "Here," I turned her head toward me with a finger and leaned in for a kiss.
"Mmm, Macallan," she whispered as she tasted it on my lips. "My favorite."
* * *
Corinne
My second day as a White House staffer was much like the first. Nobody I saw knew anything. Yes, Val and I had already employed our Looking skills, with no results. Whatever had happened was successfully blocked by Sirenali involvement.
Some employees, these closer to Madam President than those the day before, wept as they answered interviewers' questions. I heard through rumors and by reading it in some employees' gazes that Graye Sanders was packing to move out of the residence.
His personal staff would be leaving with him. I made a mental note to ask President Granville for a moment with them before they left.
Meanwhile, Norian Keef's scheduled arrival the following day weighed on my mind. I worried that he'd walk in with guns blazing, or slither in with fangs dripping and things would go south in a hurry.
In addition to that, I had an unnamed worry that aggravated my senses and wasn't identifiable in any sense. Forcing my thoughts away from that sense of dread, I focused on the line of people waiting to be interviewed.
* * *
"Did you know about this?" The Chief of Staff and I were having another lunch meeting with President Granville. We watched the noon news program while they had sandwiches.
There, on the screen, was the last thing I expected to see.
The perfect image of former President Phillips spoke with a well-known and respected news anchor. "Yes, I've issued the invitation to Graye Sanders to stay at my home in Virginia," the Phillips clone announced. "I spoke to him this morning, and he's considering my invitation-for after the funeral, you understand."
"Have you spoken with President Granville?"
"I've left messages for him, but I'm sure he's rather busy at the moment. Taking the reins of the finest country in the world is a heavy burden, especially when it lands on your shoulders so abruptly."
"He hasn't left me a goddamn thing," Granville growled.
"He was always good at spouting fiction," I said. "And this is his clone, in case you hadn't guessed already."
"I know the original is dead," Granville nodded. "What I can't figure out is how they got him to look like his former self."
"Surgery can be an amazing thing," I sighed. "Because that's exactly what has happened, here. You need to warn Graye Sanders that he needs to reject the invitation."
"I'll do that tonight," the President said. "I have a full schedule this afternoon. Kyle, make sure to send word to Graye."
"I'll see to it," the Chief of Staff agreed.
"Cori," the President turned to me. "What do you think they're doing?"
"Trying to get back in the White House, if my guess is correct," I said. "And then he may set his sights on world domination again."
"I hate this," Granville shook his head at the screen.
* * *
As it turned out, Graye Sanders didn't wait for a visit from President Granville. He and two staffers left in a limo that afternoon, with packed bags.
Word came to Granville through others that Graye would be staying at Phillips' estate in Virginia until after Amelia Sanders' funeral, scheduled for the following week.
Auggie, Matt, Rafe, Val and I fit ourselves into the meeting time Granville originally scheduled with Graye Sanders.
"The media is fascinated by the fact that the opposing party is now extending its hand to Amelia Sanders' husband," the President huffed.
"Sir," Kyle Lakin poured two fingers of bourbon in a glass and handed it to Granville while we sat in the Oval Office. Granville nodded his thanks and drank it in two swallows.
"What do you think?" He turned to the rest of us, then.
"The law states that Phillips can't run for the White House again," Matt began.
"But it doesn't keep him from bucking for the VP position," Auggie pointed out. "I'm waiting for somebody to suggest just that."
"That means they'll need my cooperation," Granville countered.
"Which will be easy if they get one of their schmucks to place an obsession," I said.
"You know what will happen if we attempt to call them out on this-in public or private," Matt agreed. "It'll sound like bad blood and sour grapes between parties, at a time when everybody is harping that we need to stand together."
"I'm sorry Amelia didn't announce his death when he actually died," Granville said. "We're stuck in the middle of a mess we made for ourselves."
"It would have taken some creative explaining," Matt nodded. "He wasn't slated to be here. The Secret Service records indicate he was abroad at the time."
"Where are those Secret Service agents now?" I asked. "I'm sure they're either dead or obsessed, wherever they are."
"They're with the new and unimproved Phillips," the Chief of Staff said. "I checked on that earlier."
"So they've likely been programmed to report that all is well in Phillipsland?" Auggie asked.
"Yep. The Director confirmed that this afternoon."
"No," I said, holding up a hand. "Has anyone laid eyes on them? Since the real Phillips and the real Hal Prentice died?"
"No," Kyle breathed.
"Fuck." I rose and pinched the bridge of my nose. "They may look like the original agents, now, but there's a really good chance they're replacements and all on board with the new agenda."
Dearest? Val sent.
Cabbage? Ilya's sending was right behind Val's.
"Wherever and whoever they are, they're obsessed-I can almost guarantee it," I said as Val rose to stand with me. "Phillips-and his clone-are Sirenali. Why wouldn't he obsess his employees?"
"Dear God, we're stuck in the middle of a bad sci-fi movie,"
President Granville moaned.
"Honey, we've been there for a while," I turned toward him and shook my head. While it may not have been proper to address POTUS as honey, he didn't seem offended. What I did see in him was this-he was terrified now to meet with anyone or go anywhere without me. While I couldn't blame him, it would put a crimp in my plans.
We have Norian scheduled to show up tomorrow, I sent to Val, Auggie and Matt. The President wants to add me to his staff, I added. Like immediately.
It would be better if you provided protective services, rather than clerical, Val offered. I may have a solution too, for additional security.
I blinked at him-he knew something I didn't. I have to get permission, first, he said. I am contacting Father now. Perhaps you should contact Belen-he will have a say in this, too.
Why? I began before it hit me.
Belen was the ultimate supervisor for the Saa Thalarr. Whatever he said went, as far as they were concerned. If the future Belen contacted the future Saa Thalarr, that would make it even better.
After all, some of them were currently making their homes on Earth, in the here and now.
Val wasn't wrong-we probably needed help wrangling Norian and his team, as well as keeping President Granville safe-if we wanted to preserve the timeline as much as we could.
"We will have more security solutions for you shortly," Val announced. "I can arrange to have both you and your Chief of Staff shielded from harm, and provide some talented bodyguards."
"Are these bodyguards to be trusted?" Kyle Lakin asked.
"You will never be guarded by better or more trustworthy," Valegar replied. "Father is arranging it now."
"We're here," someone announced. I blinked as I studied the ones who'd come.
Justin Griffin, Mack Walters, Drake and Drew Tatsuya, Gavin Montegue and Anthony Hancock crowded into the Oval Office.
"What the hell?" Granville recognized Hancock.
"I graduated," Tony grinned. "From Earth."
"I want to add one more," I said.
"I know the one you want," Val nodded. William Winkler-the one from the future-also appeared.
I had a plan, now, as far as the current Winkler was concerned. I just needed some time to put it together and make it come out right. "We can only do guard duty," Tony Hancock explained. "We're not allowed to do more than that. We can only stay as long as we're needed, or if we're ordered to leave by you, Mr. President," Tony nodded to Granville.
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