Universal Alien

by Gini Koch

  “Which they did,” Buchanan said. “We got to watch them turn the embassy to rubble and then we were all knocked out. I came to partway here, and I can guarantee we came here in a Sherpa.” Opened my mouth. “It’s a military aircraft used to transport personnel. I think it’s probably housed at Patrick Air Force Base.” Which tracked with my assumption that Cliff had used his C.I.A. clearance there.

  “Hang on. Six commandos . . .” Looked at Cantu, who looked like he’d been hit in the gut. Really wished Jeff was here. I needed to know if this man was just remarkably stupid and/or unlucky, or if he was waiting to take over as the Mastermind.

  “From what I could tell, you came in with them,” Chuckie said. “We thought you’d been captured, too.”

  “Well, I’m happy they’re buried in the rubble, but now, Esteban, that leaves us with a mystery.”

  “I had no idea,” he said. He sounded pissed and horrified and as if he was telling the truth. But I needed to be sure.

  “Is Cantu here your boss?” I asked Chuckie.

  Who nodded. “Yes, he is. Goodman made me call him, to get him down here. I know why you’re suspicious, Kitty, and I can’t blame you. But Goodman was waiting to get Cantu down with us and kill all of us at one time.”

  “Why?” Cox asked.

  “To get rid of all his enemies before he took over the world,” Reader said. “Literally. Guy was as insane as a typical Bond villain.”

  “You called that one,” Cox said to me.

  “Who are you? Jeff?” Chuckie sounded pissed off and jealous.

  “Wow, dude, no. This is Lieutenant Commander William Cox of the U.S. Navy. You need to get over the whole jealousy thing. Seriously, I know the bad guys were baiting you and all, but did you really think I’d left the embassy to go have a tryst?”

  He heaved a sigh. “No, honestly, I didn’t. I’m sorry.”

  “When she gets back, you two really need to work on this.”

  “She can’t,” Jamie said in a little voice. “The mad ladies said our house . . . our house was blown up?”

  Picked her up and hugged her. “Yes, it was. Just like the embassy. I’m sorry. I know that means everyone’s lost all their things. But the things that matter are the people and the animals. And as far as I know, we’re all alright.”

  “But Mommy can’t come home,” Jamie said, lower lip trembling. “I can’t see me now, and if I can’t see me, I can’t see her, and if I can’t see her, I can’t help.”

  The realization of what Jamie meant would have been more upsetting if I hadn’t heard a sound I was really familiar with—the sound of a big gun being cocked.

  Turned around slowly to see LaRue standing there somehow. With the gun I’d left in the alligator enclosure in her hands.

  She looked like crap, but she was alive and apparently well. “The Z’Porrah were right,” she said. “The only good naked ape is a dead naked ape.”

  I didn’t think about it. I tossed Jamie toward Chuckie and ran straight for LaRue. She fired. And she hit me.

  CHAPTER 78

  MY MIDDLE FINGERS up and pointed right at the PM was, of course, photographic gold for the press. Not that it mattered at this point. I left the PM couple gaping at me and went back to the press. “You get one more chance. Give me the film. You can keep the shots of me flipping everyone off, but not of my daughter.”

  “Too bad, too sad,” one shared.

  “Uh huh.”

  I might not be an A-C. But my husband had ensured I could defend myself. I wasn’t as skilled in Kung Fu as he was, but I was a brown belt. And it was time for the Fists of Fury.

  Only Martini was there, and he put his hand on my shoulder. “No, baby. You take care of Jamie.” His voice was a low and extremely dangerous. “It’s up to me to protect our family.”

  “Yeah?” yet another member of the press said. “You’ll commit political suicide over a few snaps, mate?”

  “I’ve killed men for less, yeah.” Martini shot them a smile that wasn’t nice—it was feral. “Or are you all forgetting that my rank in Centaurion Division was as Commander? Of our entire military. You represent a threat to my child. Guess what I’m willing to do to protect her?”

  “Stop it,” Margie said as she came over, in a Mother Tone that brooked no argument. “Stop it now. All of it and all of you. Confiscate the cameras,” she said to her staff and ours. “All of them. And take the press into a room for a debrief.”

  Our Field agents used hyperspeed and wrested every camera away within seconds. “Search them,” Singh said, as he joined this party. “Assume they all have recording equipment on them.”

  The full patdowns were done, at hyperspeed. Many recording devices were indeed found. Martini took them all and crushed them between his hands, one at a time, while the photographers winced. Then he took the cameras and ripped them apart, again with his bare hands, crushing each piece. He did it at human speeds, too.

  “Now,” he snarled when he was finally done, “you can continue to piss me off, and I’ll do this to your heads, or you can stay the hell away from my family.”

  “Here’s a tip about America and Americans. We really just want to be left the hell alone and for everyone around us to just freaking get along. We try to stay out of your business, but everyone likes to call us in, because we’re big and we make such a great target—someone to hate even if they happen to be solving a problem. But when you piss us off, really piss us off, we get angry. Sometimes it’s a bad choice, and sometimes it’s not, but that’s how we are. We don’t like getting angry with our friends. But we will. And if you’re set on proving you’re not our friends? Then we truly are willing to rain down fire upon you. You’d think the rest of the world would have caught onto this by now and stop kicking at us, but apparently you’d be wrong.”

  “You . . . you’re a friend to the press,” one of them tried.

  “No,” Richard said. “We’re a friend to two reporters who happen to be focused on showing the truth. And, Jeffrey, I took the liberty of inviting them here. Mister Joel Oliver and Bruce Jenkins joined us during the attack on Jamie, and, once things are calmed down a bit, they’ll be happy to report on how this summit meeting went.”

  Martini nodded. “Raj, I’d like you to handle the debriefing of the press corps.”

  “Absolutely.” Singh jerked his head at the Field agents. “Let’s go.”

  They hustled the press corps away. Decided now wasn’t the time to ask what they were really going to do to them.

  “What are you really going to do to them?” Margie asked. Okay, apparently now was the time.

  “Give them another memory of how this went,” Martini said. “Harmlessly. It’s one of our abilities.” He shot a cold stare at her. “One we only use in danger situations, when we can, to keep the populace calm and protected. We haven’t used it on anyone in a long time, but I’m perfectly willing to in order to protect my family. You and your husband crossed a line I won’t allow anyone to cross.”

  Margie nodded. “We did, you’re right. And . . . we were wrong to do it.”

  “Not that this was the goal,” Tony said as he joined us, “but now we both have things to apologize to each other for.”

  “You get to start,” I snapped. “Because my accidentally flipping you off and our spilling coffee on you because I was falling down concrete stairs so I could crack my head open is a lot less threatening than what you did to our three-year-old daughter. And I’m truly pissed enough to never forgive you for it.” With that, I spun on my heel again, grabbed my purse from where I’d left it under the table, and went to retrieve Jamie from Evalyne. Our Beauty Queen Contingent was with them.

  Jamie was still crying and I took her and cuddled her. “I’m so sorry, Mommy,” she wailed.

  “Shhh, shhh, it’s okay, baby. It is. Nothing that’s happened is your fault.”

 
“Yes, it is.” She buried her face in my neck and cried more.

  Serene, Lorraine, and Claudia huddled around us and moved us a little ways away. “I don’t think the cake is why Jamie’s crying,” Serene said quietly. “All Field agents are either empaths or imageers. And the empaths are telling us that Jamie’s upset over something else.”

  Considered what it could be. She’d been acting funny in the car. Got a bad feeling. “Jamie, something’s gone wrong, hasn’t it?” She nodded against my neck. “I’m not going to be leaving any time soon, am I?” She shook her head. Held her more tightly. “It’s okay. Daddy and I will figure it out, I promise. It’s not your job and it’s not your responsibility.”

  “But it is,” she sobbed. “And things went wrong and I can’t talk to her at all . . .” She couldn’t talk she was crying so hard.

  My stomach clenched. Had a variety of guesses as to how things could have gone wrong. Most of them ended with the idea that my family in my world was dead. Or that my CA or my Jamie were. Because this Jamie had surely indicated that she’d been responsible in part for the Great Mommy Switch.

  Martini joined us now. “Handle things,” he said to the Beauty Queens. “The PM couple are now feeling like crap because Jamie’s so upset. Use charm and support Richard until Raj comes back, then have Raj use charm.”

  The women scurried off. “Jamie, the ‘her’ you mean, is it my Jamie, from my universe?”

  Jamie nodded. “I can always talk to her. Any time I want or she wants. But now . . . I can’t,” she wailed.

  Martini put his arms around me and Jamie. “Jamie-Kat,” he crooned softly, “it’ll be okay. Daddy and Mommy will fix it. I know what you’re afraid of, but there are many reasons for you not being able to talk to the Jamie in the world Mommy’s from. And none of those reasons are your fault.”

  “But, but . . . what if Mommy can’t come back? I didn’t want her to be gone forever!”

  Kissed Jamie’s head. “I know, and neither does she. But she’s me, and I wouldn’t stop trying to get home, and neither will she. I know that she’s going to fix it and get us back to how we’re supposed to be. You just have to have faith, Jamie. That’s all.” Looked up at Martini. “I want my parents here, Mom especially, as fast as they can manage it.”

  He nodded and jerked his head. James came over. “Is Jamie okay?”

  “She will be,” Martini said. “Get Sol and Angela, Angela especially, here ASAP. Treat it as a top priority. I don’t care if Angela is in a closed door meeting with Vince, I want her with us in five minutes or less.”

  “You got it.” James shot me a comforting smile. “It’ll be okay, Kitty.” Then he moved off, phone up to his ear.

  Martini and I rocked Jamie together, and in a few minutes she fell asleep, exhausted from crying. Probably for the best. I kept a hold of her—she was asleep on my shoulder and right now, I wasn’t willing to let her go.

  Tony and Margie were hovering nearby, and they both looked stricken and more than a little ashamed. “I’m so sorry,” Tony said. “You were right, Kitty—we were behaving like children, not adults, and not like leaders of, pardon my national pride, the best country in the world.”

  “Let’s go inside,” Margie said. “I doubt that anyone feels like food right now.”

  “I could use a drink,” I said dryly. Saw every A-C and human in the know look at me in wide-eyed panic. Right, A-Cs were deadly allergic to alcohol—that had been spoken of in the Info Meeting From Hell, and Martini had mentioned it, too. “Not that I can. So, I’ll take a Coke, please and thank you, hold the rum.”

  Margie laughed. “We have that, and plenty of other nonalcoholic beverages as well. Some regional, which you may not have had before.”

  Managed not to say that I’d tried every regional soda Australia possessed, along with every other beverage they had, and definitely had my favorites. “Sounds great.”

  “Good,” Tony said with a smile I knew was genuine. “Then, let’s talk about how we’re going to make what happened at the stadium into a joke we own. Then, I’d like some suggestions for how to get the Club Fifty-One contingent out of Australia for good.”

  Martini smiled as well. “Happy to talk about all of that. The reporters my uncle invited will probably have a lot to add, on both counts.”

  “Then, it’s a party,” Tony said, as he clapped Martini on the back.

  “But first,” Margie said to me, “let’s get the two of you cleaned up. I know I have a dress that will fit your daughter. And I think I can find something for you, as well.”

  I nodded and Martini kissed my cheek as he let go of me. “No matter your universe of origin, baby, you always manage to save the day somehow. Remember that.”

  Knew he was telling me not to give up hope. Just hoped he was right.

  CHAPTER 79

  MARGIE TOOK ME up to their private quarters. “Let’s take care of you first, since your little one’s still asleep.”

  Laid Jamie on the bed and she stayed asleep. Put my purse next to her, then risked a look in the mirror. Yeah, this dress needed dry cleaning. And a miracle.

  Margie rummaged around in her closet. “Do you want to stick with blue?”

  “I don’t care. Someone cares, but I don’t.”

  She laughed. “Yes, public life has its restrictions.” She came out with several cute, sleeveless dresses. “I think these will fit you and should be complimentary to your figure and complexion.”

  “One can hope, right?”

  Margie put them up to me and we both ultimately decided that the black and white one—with a white silhouette in front and back and black down the sides—was the likely winner. “It’s a little formal for midday, but then your people are formal, so it fits.”

  Hoped the dress itself would fit—this style was attractive and slimming, and the fabric was comfortable.

  She helped me out of the blue dress and while I got into the black and white one, which zipped on the side, Margie trotted off. She returned as I was checking my look in the mirror with my blue dress in a nice bag in one hand and a pretty, light pink little girl’s dress in the other. It was a dress I recognized.

  “All three of my girls wore this,” she said as she put the bag next to my purse. “It was a present for our first daughter and we’ve held onto it.”

  “Are you sure you want Jamie in something that’s sort of a family heirloom?” Tried to keep my tone neutral—in my world Margie had given this dress to Jamie, not because she’d ruined her own but because we were like family and Jamie was the next little girl in line for it. “I mean, obviously, we’ll return it when we’re home.”

  She shook her head. “If it fits her, keep it. Use it if you have more little girls. Save it if you don’t. I’ll get it back from you when my first granddaughter arrives.” She smiled at me. “Because that’s what friends do for each other.”

  Didn’t think about it, I just hugged her. “Thank you.”

  She hugged me back. “I’m sorry for all the hurt feelings and upsets and everything else. Sorrier still that we didn’t ask how you were feeling—you took a nasty spill.”

  “I did,” I said as we let go. “And I do have a concussion. So, just in case I seem flaky or like I’ve forgotten things, it’s likely because of that.” Had to work under the idea that Martini was right and sometime soon I was going to get zapped back into my world. And that meant I had to set things up right for my CA. “But I just want you to know how much this means to me—us making up and hopefully becoming friends, your generosity, and all that.”

  She smiled. “Being friends is much more pleasant than being enemies, I agree. And, as a friend, if you have any Wife of the Big Man questions, I’d be more than happy to help.”

  “Thank you. My mom is great, but she’s not really a politician.”

  “Oh, she is in her own way. Exactly the way you were just
a little while ago. However, sometimes the softer touch is needed, and I’m happy to help you with that where I can and as you need it.”

  “Believe me, I’ll take you up on that offer. And if it seems like I forgot, remind me that it’s the concussion talking.”

  She laughed. “I will do.”

  “Oh, that reminds me.” Went to my purse and took out the present. “We really did hunt for this. I hope you like it, but you’re under no obligation to. And if you hate it, I won’t be hurt. Much.”

  Margie laughed, sat on the edge of the bed, and opened the box. She stared at the crystal for a few long moments. “It’s absolutely beautiful,” she said finally. “I’ve never seen anything quite like it, so delicate but with so much . . . depth.”

  “Sadly, you won’t again. It was a one-of-a-kind in the first place, and unfortunately, the artist has passed away.”

  “And you still gave it to me, despite everything.” She put it down carefully in the box, got up, and hugged me again. “I’m going to hang it up in our home in Sydney, if that’s alright with you. I can enjoy it more there.”

  “Wherever you want to hang it is fine with me.” But I couldn’t help but grin—Sydney was where this piece hung in my world.

  Jamie woke up and I cuddled her. She wasn’t crying now and didn’t seem as desolate as she had been, which was a relief. Margie hugged her, too. “I’m sorry I was a mean lady. Can I make it up to you with a dress that’s not as pretty as yours but that means much to me?”

  Jamie nodded and I got her out of her dress and put it in our dirty clothes bag while Margie helped her into the other dress. “Look, Mommy! It fits me just right!”

  “It does, baby, and you look absolutely beautiful, just like always.”

  Margie wet a washcloth and we wiped Jamie’s face, then I combed her hair, and she was ready to go. “Are Grandma and Grandpa here?” she asked as we headed for the door, her carrying the dirty clothes, me with my purse, and Margie carefully holding her gift.