Alien Education

by Gini Koch

  “You think we should trust her?” Tim asked.

  “I don’t feel angry or threatening or anything,” Abigail said. This was important, since part of her talent was being a reverse empath—if someone was feeling sad, it would make Abigail feel sad, and so on.

  She and Naomi had worked as a team, and when they’d saved D.C. from the Z’porrah attack during Operation Destruction, they’d burned those powers out. To get her powers back, Naomi had taken so much Surcenthumain that she’d gotten her powers back and then some. As far as the rest of the world knew, she’d died. As far as I knew, she’d become a superconsciousness that was forbidden to come back to Earth and let anyone who knew her know she was “alive.” This Earth and these people on it. But Naomi was representing all through the multiverse, and she was protecting all of us as best she could without getting caught. Including those of us in this particular universe.

  Abigail had been able to create shields with Naomi, among other things. Now she did it with Mahin because I knew Naomi had given Abigail back her powers, and then some, when we were on Beta Eight. Whether Abigail realized how she’d gotten her powers back, her sister’s powers, and extra boosts of power, I’d chosen not to ask.

  “So Jeff’s right,” Chuckie said, “and the Kristie-Bot is being truthful?”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Jeff muttered.

  “There’s more,” Abigail went on. “I’ve focused on the Kristie-Bot. I’m kind of excited, kind of impatient, feeling hopeful and optimistic. I’m annoyed in a way, but it’s because I’m looking forward to being a part of this team. I know I’m going to achieve all my goals. And those goals feel very . . . starry.”

  “Starry?” Reader asked.

  “Like I’m swirling and dancing and smiling for photographers. Greeting dignitaries all over the place and on other planets. Living large.” Abigail shrugged. “I gotta say, I think she’s legit.”

  Considered options. “Fine. You know what? Why not? Let’s plan to have the Kristie-Bot and Adam do a human interest piece. Tomorrow. At the Sidwell Friends School First Day of School Bake Sale.”

  CHAPTER 33

  THIS TIME EVERYONE stared at me. “Ah,” Jeff said finally, “while I can say that her emotions show that she’s telling the truth and even sort of seems on our side, and Abigail certainly seems convinced, I don’t think it’s a great idea to have her around our children and all the other children, either.”

  “That could be the plan,” Chuckie said.

  Reader snorted. “Really? Who in their right or even wrong mind would think that Kitty would suggest this? Who would possibly have known about the bake sale and that Kitty was going to be put in charge of it earlier than today? Not that I’m wild about this idea, but I can see the advantages. If they’re forcing Kitty to do this, let’s make it a good showing for the First Lady.”

  “I can see so many ways this can go wrong,” Chuckie muttered. “So many I could just spend the rest of the day listing them.”

  “I want to examine her immediately,” Serene said. “Risks of explosions or not. If she truly has no self-destruct mechanism and also isn’t broadcasting back to anyone, then we need to know and clear her. Before she goes to school with Kitty.”

  “I’m all for it,” the Kristie-Bot said. “Clear me, because I think that will be a great story. By the way, someone needs to call our producer. By now they have to be wondering what’s going on with me and Adam. Normally we’d be prepping tomorrow’s show.”

  “And you are, go team. Once Serene clears you, we can share the plan with Adam and you two can call in and get whatever you need. Understanding that our people will be vetting everything and everyone.” That was me, predicting the happy outcomes—that the Kristie-Bot would be cleared, that Good Day USA! would be able to leap into action, that everyone from that show was going to be on the side of, if not right, then at least not Team Evil, and that things would work out just fine. Really hoped the cosmos wasn’t going to get a good laugh about my optimism, but chose not to make any bets about it.

  She nodded. “That’s how it’s always done. Oh my God, this is going to be fantastic!”

  “Total excitement,” Abigail said softly to me. “But I think you want more people along.”

  “I already planned to drag Mahin with me. Thanks for volunteering, Abby.”

  She grinned. “Happy to help. So, does that mean Mahin and I need to go with you to the kitchens where the kids are really impatiently waiting for you?”

  Jeff grunted. “Incredibly impatiently. And their feelings are starting to get hurt.”

  “Pardon me for thinking this needed my attention.”

  Jeff kissed my cheek. “It did, but get going. We’ll make Serene happy and have her do all the tests on everyone.”

  “Remember that the Christopher-Bot the Second is probably made from the same thing as the First and Not Lamented Goo was. Meaning he can morph into things. So Serene, if you test him, too, I want Christopher and the flyboys in there with these weapons set to nuke.” Managed not to make a Josie and the Pussycats comparison statement, but it took effort. “And let me know if we make any breakthroughs. And remember that we need to clear Ansom and Talia for that fundraiser tomorrow night. And be sure, if we can be, that they can’t morph, too.”

  “Got it all,” Chuckie said. “We’ll handle it. Get going. Make something edible.”

  I snorted as I, Abigail, and Mahin handed our laser guns to Jerry. “Dude, my plan is that I’m going to ask the Elves for a gigantic batch of Lucinda’s brownies and call it good.”

  With that, Abigail grabbed me and Mahin and we headed for the massive kitchens.

  Chef’s domain was the large kitchen on the ground floor of the White House Residence. Technically, Chef was also supposed to hang out in the Family Kitchen on the second floor, where our family lived. But the Elves had taken the contract on that kitchen, so Chef made most of the food and the Elves got it to us. This kept Chef where he was happy and us from having to explain things we didn’t want to.

  P-Chef, however, was relegated to a room in the sub-basement level. The White House had a lot of levels that most people didn’t see, didn’t know about, or didn’t think about. Other than A-C bases and such, I’d rarely been in a building that went down as much as this one did.

  We arrived in P-Chef’s Pastry Palace to find her, Chef, Vance, Mrs. Maurer, all the kids on Charmaine’s list, and Pierre. Pierre was the Embassy’s Concierge Majordomo and he was the most competent man on the planet. Pierre’s presence ensured that everything would be alright.

  Of course, my daughter being here was a big positive, too. Picked Jamie up and gave her a big hug and kiss. “Are you ready to get baking for the first day of school?” Part of me couldn’t believe that she was ready for school—she wasn’t even five yet. None of the kids in her class were. But Sidwell had the Early Kindergarten class for children who were advanced, and all of our hybrid children certainly were.

  Jamie hugged me back. “We’re all ready now, Mommy. Lizzie says we have to go to make sure that Wasim has friends!”

  Wasim was indeed here, as was Naveed. Wasim looked like he wasn’t sure if he should be happy or embarrassed. Naveed, however, shot an approving look in Lizzie’s direction.

  “Where’s Charlie?” I asked as I put Jamie down. “And Nadine? And the majority of your security detail?” The only Secret Service agent I could spot in here was Keith, who’d joined up with my side of things during Operation Madhouse. He was a big dude, had adapted very well to how I rolled, and was therefore the Secret Service agent who headed up the kids’ security team.

  “Still at the Embassy,” Lizzie answered. “Denise wouldn’t let Charlie come over. So they stayed there and Jamie came over with Keith. They coordinated with your team.”

  “Miss Denise says that Charlie needs to stay with her and not get into the flour and stuff,” Jam
ie shared. “I think she just misses us already and wants to keep him with her while we’re all over here.”

  Had a feeling Jamie was right, and not just because she was talented far above the norm. Denise Lewis ran the Embassy School and Daycare and her kids were among those heading to Sidwell tomorrow.

  Kevin Lewis was a former pro football player, big, black, and gorgeous, with great teeth, a great smile, and bags of charisma. Denise was blonde and fair, but equally gorgeous with the same great teeth, great smile, and charisma. Raymond and Rachel were beautiful blends of their parents, and they’d both inherited the teeth, smiles, and charisma. Like Reader, the Lewis family was representing in the Humans Can Be As Hot As Aliens Competition.

  Raymond had been our oldest kid until Lizzie had come onto our scene, and he still acted like the leader. The very serious, very concerned leader who had to protect his troops at all costs. “I’m worried that they want us doing this the first day,” he said. “It seems like a lot.”

  To my knowledge the Lewis kids weren’t psychic, but it was truly as if Raymond had read my mind. However, my job as the adult was to take that very accurate worry away from him, where it didn’t belong, and hog it all to myself.

  Bent down and hugged him. “I know. But you know what? I think we’re all more than up to the task. We’ll show them that American Centaurion kids know how to do this just like everybody else.”

  “What do you think?” Jamie asked Rachel.

  Who definitely pondered before she replied. Noted that all the kids, Lizzie included, were giving Rachel their full attention. Wasim saw this and did likewise. Jamie had told me and Jeff that she felt that Rachel was usually right about her pronouncements. I’d put this down to Rachel being the eldest girl in daycare, but the way all the kids were acting, Raymond included, did make me wonder.

  “I think it’s going to be hard at first,” Rachel said slowly. “But in the end it’ll be okay.”

  Everyone relaxed. Myself included.

  “First things first, darlings,” Pierre said briskly, before anyone else could share their prophecies. He started handing things out to everyone. “Aprons on. I believe we have the correct sizes for everyone, but if your size is wrong, just let me know and we’ll get it fixed in a jiff.”

  The Elves had delivered again, and not only did we all have aprons, but we all had personalized aprons. And not the cutesy kind. We had full on Chef- and P-Chef-level aprons, each with everyone’s first name stitched in Presidential Gold over the left breast.

  Bruce Jenkins was here, too, with one photographer, introduced as Dion Callan France. He looked a little taller than Christopher, but still under six feet. He was slender and had a small build, medium brown hair, a smattering of freckles, and a shy smile. He was cute in a kind of Leonardo DiCaprio When He Was Young way.

  “It’s an honor to meet you,” Dion said as we shook paws. “I’ll do my best to get great photos of all of you.”

  “Are everyone’s parents on board with that?” I asked Jenkins and Pierre.

  They both nodded. “All the waivers have been signed,” Jenkins said. “We’re good. We’ll be with you tomorrow, as will Joel. And we’ll be sure that this is done right, Kitty. You know that.”

  Hugged him. “I do. Thank you.” Thought about this. “He’s allowing you to call him Joel, not Mister Joel Oliver?”

  Jenkins grinned. “Professional courtesy. I’m literally the only peer allowed that privilege. He’d give it to you if you really wanted it.”

  “Nah. I like the MJO I’m used to—quirky.”

  Pierre handed me a scrunchie. “Let’s get that beautiful hair up, shall we?” He then bustled about and either offered hair ties or did the tying, depending, to the rest of the girls, big and little. Our boys didn’t have long hair, seeing as that wasn’t an A-C thing in any way, shape, or form, but Wasim’s hair was longish, especially around his eyes. Not to worry, though, because Pierre had a male headband for him. “Just like all the football players wear, or what we call soccer players, dearest.”

  Wasim smiled as he put on his headband. “I love football. And I know you call it soccer here.”

  P-Chef beamed at us. “Okay, let’s get going and make the best baked goods your new school has ever seen!”

  The kids cheered and we got rolling. While P-Chef got the kids started doing various things like making and rolling out dough, whisking eggs, and the like, Chef and I went over things, and he agreed that Lucinda’s brownies would be winners. “Only she refuses to share the recipe.” He sounded as frustrated as I felt.

  “No worries. We can ask the Elves for some.”

  “No, dear, you can’t,” Mrs. Maurer said. “The rules are quite clear.”

  Heaved a sigh. “Then we don’t get to bring the guaranteed best-seller with us. We’ll have to make do.”

  “You can always request them for later,” Chef said.

  “Nah. We’ll eat whatever P-Chef says isn’t good enough to go over.”

  P-Chef winked at me. “Or what’s too good.”

  “I like where your head’s at.”

  Made do for several hours. Had to admit that even though baking wasn’t my thing—nothing in a kitchen was ever going to be my thing, after all—this was fun. By far the most fun I’d had all day. And the kids were loving it.

  After a couple of hours, Jenkins and Dion had more than enough in terms of photos, at least until the finished products were all done. So, since they both had personalized aprons, too, they also helped out. Jenkins was clearly doing this for journalistic purposes, because he was spending his time with Chef and P-Chef. But Dion seemed like he was really enjoying it. He and Pierre were talking fashion and celebrities while rolling out piecrusts.

  Mahin and Naveed seemed to be getting along as well. Which was nice, because Wasim wasn’t the only one here away from family, friends, and what was comfortable and familiar. They were speaking in Arabic and had chosen to work on pies together. Wasn’t sure if this meant anything or not, but if nothing else it had to be nice for both of them to have an adult from their region to talk to.

  As an icebreaker and get-to-know-you event went, this was also great for Wasim, because Naveed was occupied by Mahin so Wasim actually got to do things without his bodyguard hovering. Chef and P-Chef were covering the hovering portion, with strong Hover Assists from Pierre and Vance, but that was different. By the first hour Wasim was helping the littler kids, and by the second hour they were talking to and teasing him as if he’d lived with us for his entire life. And he was eating it up.

  “Do you have a lot of younger brothers and sisters?” I asked him when he and I were together on the cookie icing team.

  He nodded. “Eleven.”

  “Wow. That’s a big family.”

  “It is. And . . . I miss them already.” He swallowed, then looked over at me. “I’m glad there are so many other children here. It’s less . . . lonely.”

  Nudged against him, because our hands were too busy and covered with icing for me to hug him. “You can stay here as long as you want, you know. I’m sure the idea of your own cool bachelor pad sounds great, but if you want to stick around, we’re happy to have you.”

  “You really mean that, don’t you?” He sounded a little surprised.

  “Yeah, I do. You seem like a cool kid, you’re fitting in well with all the other kids, your grandfather is one of my besties—why wouldn’t I want you to stay here if you like it?”

  “Because,” he said in a low voice, “Grandfather wants me to, uh . . .” He stopped speaking, blushing furiously.

  “Fall in love with Lizzie?” I said just as softly. He nodded. “Dude, we all figured that out before you even set foot on American soil. But you know what? Like I told her, friendship is more important. And in this country, you’re both too young to worry about it. So far, we all really like you.”

  “You b
arely know me. What if . . . what if I do things you don’t like?”

  “You mean like every person on the planet?” I laughed. “I’m sure you’ll do things we disapprove of, and I’m sure you’ll have bad days just like everyone else. I’m sure that we’ll do things you don’t like, too. But family deals with it and moves on. So, consider yourself all-in.”

  He grinned. “Consider myself part of the furniture?”

  My turn to grin. “You know the music from Oliver!? I do like you.”

  “I love Disney movies. All of them. Even the poorer ones.”

  “What are your thoughts on the comics?”

  He hesitated, took a deep breath, and let it out in a rush. “I think Deadpool is hilarious, but please don’t let my family know I read it.”

  “Wasim? I truly believe this is the beginning of a beautiful familial relationship.”

  CHAPTER 34

  WE WERE FINALLY DONE with all the baking and such in time for dinner, albeit a later dinner for most of the kids. But they’d been having so much fun that none of the adults had had the heart to make them stop early.

  Considering how the day had started, the afternoon and early evening had been pretty darned good. Jenkins felt that he had a great human interest piece on us, Dion was happy with the pictures he’d taken, plans were confirmed for the First Day of School Extravaganza, and the kids all seemed excited to be going. Maybe Charmaine wasn’t an Evil Kangaroo and just knew how to get a lot of kids invested in their new school. Maybe.

  Vance and Pierre escorted Jenkins and Dion out, I sent Jeff a text, and he met up with us outside of P-Chef’s domain.

  He picked Jamie up and twirled her while giving her hugs and kisses. Then he put her down and hugged all the rest of the kids, starting with Lizzie and going down in descending age order. Then he turned to Wasim. “I hear you’re our newest addition.”

  “Yes, sir, I’m honored that you’ve allowed me to stay here.” Wasim put out his hand.