Universal Alien

by Gini Koch

  Len and Kyle eyed us suspiciously. “What’s going on?” Len asked. “Or, let me rephrase. What are you up to that the Secret Service isn’t going to like?”

  “Funny you should ask,” Malcolm said. “Need you two to sleep up here tonight.”

  Kyle nudged Len. “Pay up.”

  Len sighed, pulled out his wallet, and gave Kyle a $20. “I just figured New Kitty would be less inclined to go off half-cocked.”

  “Hey, I think I resent that on behalf of my Cosmic Alternate.”

  “But, trust us, you can’t deny it.” Len said with a laugh. “Okay, let us know what the cover story needs to be if anyone from the Secret Service notices you’re gone. Though I think Kyle and I should go, too, wherever it is.”

  Malcolm shook his head. “The Whites will be here babysitting, but I still want someone trained in protection and surveillance to be with Jamie.”

  Len and Kyle both looked shocked and pleased, but then both put on Serious Faces and nodded. Clearly they looked up to Malcolm, and from what I’d seen and he’d told me, they probably had every reason to.

  “What about Charles?” Richard asked.

  “He should come too.” Everyone looked at me.

  “Why?” Martini asked.

  “Because he was with me when I found what I’m looking for.”

  Martini shook his head. “No, ‘he’ wasn’t.”

  “I know, but seriously, I think he needs to come with us.” And not only because Paris was a droolingly romantic city. But there was that. Wasn’t sure it was going to be safe for me to be wandering Paris with just Martini. And Malcolm and Richard. Okay, it was an excuse. But whatever.

  “The smaller the team the better,” Malcolm said. “However, he’s a far better liar than our Vice President, so it may help to have him along.”

  “I’ll discuss it with him,” Richard said. “Discreetly.”

  Semi-plan of action decided, Len and Kyle headed for what appeared to be guest rooms, and the others left our apartment. Well, the other people. All but a few of the animals stuck around. Went into our bedroom to find Jamie and discovered why there were so many cat trees in it—they were loaded with Poofs.

  Jamie’s room was attached to ours. “Why is she still in a nursery?” I asked Martini.

  “Empaths need to go into isolation periodically. The more powerful the empath, the harder we can push ourselves, meaning the harder we crash.” He led me through her room to another room. It was very white, and seemed sort of soothing, if you ignored all the needles and such that were in evidence. “The Embassy has its own empathic isolation chamber because my Aunt Terry, Christopher’s mother, was empathic. Because my talent came out very early, I ended up living here, with Aunt Terry, so she could help me. She was my second mother and she . . . understood me like no one else ever did. At least until I met Kitty.”

  “Where is she? I haven’t met her yet.”

  Martini was quiet for a long moment. “She’s dead. She died when we were ten years old.”

  Turned and looked up at him. He didn’t look like she’d died twenty-plus years ago. He looked like she’d died last week.

  Didn’t think about it, I just hugged him. “I’m so sorry. I know exactly what it’s like to lose your mother.”

  He hugged me back. “Yeah, I know. You understand that better than . . . my Kitty does. She tries, but, thankfully, she doesn’t know.”

  Managed not to say that she’d know by now. Wondered how she’d take it, and hoped she’d handle it better than I had. Then again, she had Mom to come home to here.

  Martini cleared his throat. “Anyway, my mother did her best with me and Christopher after . . . Aunt Terry died. Not as well as any of us would have liked, but it’s finally all behind us now. Due in large part to Kitty. And Amy.”

  “Still can’t believe Amy’s not a total bitch in this world.”

  He chuckled. “Bitch is in the eyes of the beholder, baby.” He kissed my head. “Let’s get out of here. This is the nicest isolation chamber we have anywhere in the world, but it’s still a place Jamie and I have to go when we’ve overdone it.”

  “Is it horrible for you, isolation?”

  “No. Not nearly as bad as non-empaths think it is. It’s a soothing, safe haven for empaths. But it’s still the place you go because you have to, not because you want to.”

  “Unless you collapse fast, like in seconds—and in that case, I’d expect to see an isolation chamber every few feet—why do you need to keep Jamie in the nursery?”

  “I guess we haven’t thought about it,” he said as we left the room and went back into Jamie’s. It was a nice room, and she wasn’t in a crib—there was a queen-sized bed in there. But that made the room look ridiculous, in that sense. “It’s easier to move the Poof Condos into her room this way, too. Yes, because they all sleep with her. Though the dogs sleep with us.” The way he said it, got the impression he’d be happier without the sounds of dogs snoring at night.

  “She’s still a toddler, but you’ve got her in an adult bed and it’s obvious she’s far more advanced than the average child. She deserves her own room, where she can have her privacy. And so you can have yours.”

  Jamie beamed at me. “I know which room I want, Mommy!” She jumped up and ran out. We followed her. She went to the room right next to ours. It was almost as big as the master bedroom, with both a bathroom and walk-in closet attached, but basically had nothing in it.

  “Wow, you guys don’t really understand how to utilize space, do you?”

  Martini shrugged. “It hasn’t been necessary. Two of the rooms down the hall are our official guest rooms. We haven’t needed to pay attention to most of the spare bedrooms.”

  “Well, let’s pay attention now. Jamie, what do you want in your room?”

  “Oh, I’ll tell the Elves what I want, Mommy.”

  “The Elves?” This was a new one. Couldn’t wait to see what was going to appear.

  Martini chuckled. “That’s what Kitty calls the Operations Team. But you have to run what you want by Mommy, Jamie.”

  She looked at me. “This Mommy?” She sounded hopeful. And as if she was fully aware I wasn’t her actual mother in this universe.

  Martini sighed. “Yes. You seem to think this isn’t Mommy.”

  “Oh, she is, Daddy,” she said in a very Dutiful Daughter tone. “But at the same time, she isn’t.” She beamed at me. “That’s okay, Mommy. I love it that you’re here!”

  “Thank you, sweetheart. Now, let’s get your room all set up exactly how you want it. What colors do you want?” My bet, based on the colors that had been in the nursery, was pink. But it would be interesting to see if that was “her” color or if it was being forced on her.

  “Pink and white! But mostly pink. Did you know there are a lot of shades of pink? Uncle Pierre says that he’s learned that there are many because of me. Can I have a lot of pinks?”

  “It’s always good to learn.” Bingo. Pink was Jamie’s favorite color. My Jamie didn’t have a favorite anything, other than her mirrors. Shoved that sadness away and focused on the Jamie in front of me. “And it’s your room, sweetheart. You can have it whatever colors you want.” Looked at Martini. “Uh, I’m somehow certain that Jamie and I are not going to have to race out to Home Depot and choose paint and such. So, how do we make this work?”

  “Just sort of share with the room what you want. The Operations Team will hear it. We’re wired for sound, so to speak.”

  Speaking of sounds the music had stopped. A while ago. Decided Walter must have assumed I’d gone to sleep, or someone else in the Embassy had requested silence or a different set of tunes or something. I’d worry about it later.

  While Jamie prattled away describing her perfect room—which did not include a set of three-way mirrors, which I found a complete relief—Martini made dinner for us. He was
a great cook and seemed to like it, proving that my CA continued to have good taste in men, even if she’d picked Martini over Charles somehow.

  Dinner done, Jamie dragged me into her new room while Martini stacked the dishes in the sink for the Operations Team to clean. Apparently, they really were like elves. Hoped they were paid well.

  We walked in and I gasped. The entire room was changed, just as Jamie had described it. Her bed was moved, too. It’s hard to move a queen-sized bed from one room to another without the people in the same apartment noticing it, but the Operations Team had managed it.

  All the Poof Condos were in Jamie’s room, still filled with Poofs. So were all the dog beds. There were also some small, raised hammocks near the dog beds. Jamie’s closet was full and her bathroom was all set up, too. And the rooms didn’t smell like fresh paint. There was a faint smell of strawberries, but not paint.

  “Is it time for bed yet?” Jamie asked eagerly.

  “Sure,” Martini said. “Mommy and I need to sleep soon. But I thought you were going to sleep with us tonight, Jamie-Kat.”

  “Oh, I’ll do that tomorrow night. I need to sleep in my own new room tonight!”

  Was about to ask what the hammocks were for when the rest of the animals joined us. The dogs trotted to their beds, the cats joined the Poofs in Condo City. And the Peregrines hopped up into their hammocks. There weren’t two dozen of them in here though, for which I was grateful.

  “Where do the other Peregrines sleep?”

  “With their people,” Jamie said. “Lola always sleeps with me, and Bruno does, too, if he’s not watching you, Mommy. But I get to sleep with whoever’s not on duty, too. Uncle Pierre has Sonny and Cher sleep with me most of the time, and Len and Kyle usually want Barney and Betty and Fred and Wilma with me, too.”

  “Don’t they need the Peregrines to protect them?”

  “Oh, yes, but they have Poofies and Poofies are great protection, too, Mommy.”

  Decided not to argue about what alien beasties were where. Jamie had the lion’s share of the Embassy animals and if that made her happy, then that was good enough for me. Besides, Len and Kyle were just down the hall tonight.

  To my great joy, they had a nighttime ritual. We had one with Charlie and Max but had given up with our Jamie. This Jamie got songs sung to her every night, a quick bedtime story, and then lots of hugs and kisses, for her and Mous-Mous, since she insisted. Kissing the Poof wasn’t a hardship—they were soft and really adorable.

  This routine was what I’d always thought we’d do with our little girl, and it was a joy to get to experience it for real, not just in a daydream that wasn’t coming true.

  Jamie happily tucked into her bed in her own special and perfect new room, Martini and I headed for ours. Checked. The nursery was back to being a nursery. A white nursery. Complete with a crib and a lot of baby-type things.

  “Are you guys expecting number two?”

  “No, we’re not. Not yet. Why?”

  Pointed to the nursery. “The Operations Elves seem to be leaving you a rather broad hint.”

  He grinned at me. “Well, a man can hope, right?” He cocked his head and seemed to be studying me.

  “What?”

  Martini gave me a funny smile—tender and amused and wistful somehow all at the same time. “I promise that I’m not going to let anything happen to you. And that includes untoward advances from me. If you want me to sleep on the sofa, I will. But I’m capable of being in bed with you and not doing anything that will make you uncomfortable.”

  “In case anyone not in the know somehow shows up, you sleeping elsewhere would indicate we were fighting, and that’s the last thing I think we need. So, sure. I can handle it. I think.”

  He grinned. “Well, I realize I’m completely irresistible to human females, but I’ll be sure to save you from yourself and keep it totally platonic.”

  “You are so suave, Mister Smooth Operator. How do the ladies resist?”

  Martini laughed. “I think we’re about to find out.”

  CHAPTER 44

  DID MY BEST not to think about Charles, and so was able to get into the white T-shirt and blue pajama bottoms Martini said were standard issue for sleepwear. Jamie had been in the little girl version of this. Aliens were kind of weird, but at least they chose unisex options for going to bed.

  We discussed it. Both of us were used to sleeping next to our spouse. I had nights where Charles was gone, but Martini basically never did. Decided to trust him—apparently I could merely scream “com on” or for the Operations Elves if he stopped being a gentleman and help would show up. Besides, we needed to get to sleep and get some rest, not spend hours fretting about intimacy.

  I turned my back to his side, my neck and head on his impressive bicep, and snuggled up against him. It was different than being next to Charles, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. He wrapped his arm around me and held onto my shoulder. A few little adjustment moves, and we were set. The two Poofs joined us, snuggled next to my chest.

  Bruno was in the room, too. He settled on one of the pillows, watching. He made eye contact with me, nodded, and winked slowly. “Uh, I think Bruno just told me you were okay, I didn’t need to worry, and that he’d claw you up if you tried anything I didn’t want.”

  “He probably did.” Martini kissed the back of my head. “He’s protective. Rightly so.”

  “Hey, can we listen to music to fall asleep to?”

  “Sure, what do you want?”

  “How about Jack Johnson?”

  “Ah, Kitty, my Kitty, hates his music. I don’t think we have any of it.”

  Managed not to say anything derogatory about her taste. “Uh, okay. What about Amadhia? She has to have her stuff.”

  “Never heard of that artist. Com on!”

  “Yes, Mister Vice President?”

  “Walter, can you get all of Amadhia’s records loaded into the sound system somehow?”

  “Searching . . . ah, I’m sorry, but there’s no such recording artist listed. Anywhere.”

  “What? Really?”

  Martini hugged me. “Shhh,” he said quietly. “You’re positive, Walter?”

  “Yes. I’ve searched every database and outlet. No one listed by that name is a recording artist. I tried a variety of spellings, too, and searched internationally.”

  “Okay, Walter, thanks for trying. Com off.”

  The white noise that was quietly in the background when the com was on ceased. “I don’t understand. She has the most beautiful voice—better than Enya or Florence or Adele or any of them. She’s my favorite female singer. I can’t believe Amadhia’s not here.”

  “She may be in this universe, but she may not be a singer in this universe. Or at least, may not have a recording career.” He hugged me again. “I’m sorry. You want me to have Walter load in Jack Johnson?”

  “No, not if my CA hates him. He’s the coolest guy, by the way.”

  “I’m sure he is. Kitty says he puts her to sleep.”

  “And yet she doesn’t have his music.”

  He chuckled. “I usually find other ways to tire her out. Anyone else you can think of you’d like to listen to?”

  Pondered. “Jewel, I guess. She has Jewel, right? Jewel is a recording artist here?”

  “Yes. And yeah, Kitty uses her to sleep to a lot. Hang on.” He rolled over, fiddled with something, and the sounds of “Foolish Games” started. “Huh.” Martini went to the door, opened then shut it. Sugarfoot jumped up onto the bed. “He wants to sleep with you tonight.”

  “Works for me.” We snuggled back up the way we had been, alien animals included, and Sugarfoot settled himself at our heads. With cat and Poofs purring quietly, Peregrine watching, and Jewel singing, I fell asleep.

  The sounds of Panic! At The Disco’s “New Perspective” woke me up. We both groaned, but
managed to roll out of bed. I showered first since Martini was going to be able to get ready at hyperspeed.

  The same clothes as I’d put on the evening before were waiting for me, though it was obvious they’d been cleaned while we slept. “Fine,” I said quietly. “If this is the only look you want me in, I’ll go with it. Thanks for all you did for Jamie, by the way. Her room looks amazing.”

  The purse was waiting for me on top of the hamper. Zipped up the hoodie, grabbed the purse, and headed out. Martini was out of his shower, towel wrapped around his waist. Yeah, it was easy to see why my CA had fallen for this guy—the term “hardbody” had been created to describe him. Muscled but not overly done like a bodybuilder, just the right amount of hair on his chest to be manly without being a total rug, and a tantalizing Happy Trail running over a perfect six-pack and leading down to where my eyes did not need to go.

  “I’ll, ah, meet you outside.” Zipped out of the room as fast as I could. It was one thing to have what had amounted to a platonic sleepover. It was another to have all-out lust going for this guy.

  Of course, because this was just how it worked around here, apparently, Charles was standing there as I exited the bedroom. I jumped and slammed the door behind me.

  “Sorry,” he said with a rueful smile. “Didn’t mean to startle you. Richard said we were leaving at three in the morning and I didn’t want to get left behind, since I was apparently the last man added to this team.”

  “It wasn’t an insult.” Hoped I wasn’t looking totally like a cheating wife. Felt as though I probably was.

  He noticed, of course. “It’s okay.” He stroked my cheek. “I’m not really your Chuckie and you’re not really his Kitty, but it’s awkward for all of us no matter what.”

  “You seem almost totally like my Charles. Only . . . you’re sadder than he is.”

  He nodded. “I probably am.” Charles turned and went to sit on the sofa. The others weren’t here yet.

  I joined him and took his hand. “I’m sorry. It must be very hard to be a widower so fast and so young.”