Alien Collective (50 page)

W
E ALL STARED AT HIM.
“Say what?” Christopher asked before I could.

Len looked uncomfortable, but he went on. “We do nothing.” He looked to Kyle. “It’s just like the UCLA game when we were juniors, remember?”

“Oh, yeah.” Kyle nodded enthusiastically. “We were being accused of cheating, which we absolutely were not doing. So UCLA had a bunch of supporters come down to our campus and protest our team.”

“Coach told us to ignore them,” Len said. “And pretend they weren’t even there. Because giving them attention was what they wanted and the media would do plenty of that anyway.”

“Yeah, he said that the best way to deal with them was to practice hard, play harder, and win the game fair and square. Which we did.” Kyle beamed proudly. “It was my best game that season. Len’s too. It was like he couldn’t throw an interception or miss a receiver.”

“Protest is part of being in a political campaign,” Chuckie said slowly. “I think they have a really good point.”

“We have enough going on that we need to prep for anyway,” Jeff said. “But how do we get in and out? I mean so that the public sees? And how do we keep random people on the streets, or who live and work around these protest areas, safe?”

“Well, that’s not actually our job, is it? So, we do what every other politician in these circumstances does. We ask for governmental assistance and police protection. And, I know just the police I want protecting us.” Pulled out my phone and sent Officer Melville a text.

He replied quickly. D.C.P.D. had been advised of the various protests and were already scrambling teams to cover. They’d also requested the National Guard, but hadn’t heard if that request was going to be fulfilled or not.

“The K-9 squad are on their way. One quarter with us, one quarter with the Israelis, one quarter with the Bahrainis, and the last at the Pontifex’s Residence. They’re sending regular police to cover the rest of our street and Romania’s embassy, as well as other areas.”

“I want to keep Paul with us, and James, too, if he’s able to come out,” Jeff said.

“No argument. But they expect attacks on the building, so they want people there.”

“That’s fine,” Chuckie said. “I’ve got Angela alerted—we’ll also have P.T.C.U., F.B.I., C.I.A., and Homeland Security support, in addition to those of us already here.”

“So, now what?” Christopher said. “We just wait around and pretend this isn’t happening?”

“Sort of,” Len replied. “But Jeff’s going to be going up onstage at the National Convention. He needs a speech, which I’m sure Raj already has written, but he also needs to practice it. Kitty, same thing—they may expect you to speak, and you need to be prepared.”

Chuckie nodded. “This isn’t the time to wing it, I’ll say that. There will be other things we need to prepare for as well.”

“So, we just hunker down and wait?” Christopher asked.

Considered this. “Yeah.”

Everyone looked at me. “That was easy,” Chuckie said.

I shrugged. “It’s a chess game. We’re black. We’ve just made our move in reaction to white’s. Time to wait for them to make their next move. Because I don’t think the protests are that move. I think they’re just filler and distraction, and we’ve been distracted enough. Besides, I’d love to actually see my daughter for more than a second, and we could all use whatever downtime we can grab.”

“Are you sure we’re not going to be attacked in the next fifteen minutes?” Christopher asked.

Thought about what Mom had said. “We all face danger all the time. Driving is a risk. Taking a walk is a risk. I’m willing to be on full alert, but also not trying to guess the next move. In part because I don’t think we can. We have two recovered androids and Chernobog. Let’s get what we can from them and see what we can rebuild or regain from her. We have the pictures from the crowd at the press conference to go through. We probably have a lot of other things that we’ve forgotten or put off. Let’s spend the time doing them versus trying to guess what our enemies are going to throw at us next.”

“Speaking of androids, what are we going to do with the Maurers, Jenkins, and Oliver?” Jeff asked.

“They all stay here. We’ll ask James to send teams to get their stuff.”

“Once they move in, are they ever moving out, is my question,” Jeff grumbled.

“Oh, the more the merrier. Let’s get everyone back here who should be and then you can practice your nomination speech.”

Jeff sighed. “Can’t wait.”

The doorbell to the Embassy rang and we trotted to get it. Officer Melville, along with the officers I called Larry and Curly, was there. Melville didn’t like me calling him Moe, but the other two guys were either flattered by the Three Stooges comparisons or were really named Larry and Curly.

There were other police on the street, moving the protestors back and off our property, as well as getting them off the street.

Prince greeted us with great joy, while sharing that our separation had seemed almost eternal and he was thrilled to see us.

While we got our three officers and their respective dogs into rooms, the rest of the Embassy staff and related personnel returned via floater gates. Within a short time, things were humming along as if the last day and a half hadn’t really happened.

It was great to get Jamie back and be a family. Jeff or I carried her around, and she and Mous-Mous had a nice little reunion. There hadn’t seemed to be a real reason she’d had her Poof go with me, and I mentioned that to her.

“Mous-Mous made the things go away,” Jamie said.

“What things?”

“The ones that want to take Fairy Godfather ACE away.”

“But they didn’t come to visit us today.”

She hugged Mous-Mous. “Because Mous-Mous is a good Poof!” The Poof purred loudly and they nuzzled each other.

Decided now wasn’t the time to argue this or ask more questions, especially because I’d seen those shimmers when we were in the desert. Meaning that Jamie could be 100% right. And she’d said things, plural, meaning that there was a good chance Sandy had friends or co-workers of some kind following up on his work. How fantastic for all of us.

“Okay, Jamie-Kat, whatever you say.” Wondered if I was right in thinking we should take some breathing room, especially under these potentially new circumstances.

She stopped nuzzling the Poof and looked at me. “You’re right, Mommy. We can wait for the next move.” Then she turned back to the Poof.

Thanks, ACE
, I said in my head. I didn’t expect a response, which was good, because I didn’t get one. But Jamie hugged me, and I figured that was from her and ACE both. And these days, that was good enough for me.

T
HE WEEK FLEW BY.
I spent most of my free time with Jamie and the pets, which Prince felt included himself. Officer Melville was okay with this, mostly because I didn’t have all that much free time.

In addition to the steady stream of protestors outside our doors, we had a steady stream of politicians coming through those doors. Armstrong and McMillan, of course, and Nathalie, but also others big in the party in some way.

Culver and Gadoire were over all the time, as were other lobbyists, but, interestingly enough, none of the other Dealers of Death Vance had told me about. Presumably they’d thrown in with the now Cleary-Kramer ticket and were avoiding us. Which was okay with me.

Culver took it upon herself to work with Nathalie and Pierre to determine my “color.” She felt it was vital that I have one, and Pierre agreed, meaning that deal was sealed. And, naturally, my color couldn’t be black or white.

Sure, when forced to wear only the Armani Fatigues, I longed for other colors. But being told I was going to be choosing one color and sticking with it pretty much for the foreseeable future seemed like a cruel irony.

Though I begged for green, that was turned down flat. Apparently green was only okay for other people or holidays. Pierre called in our designer, Akiko, and she, traitor that she was, also turned down green.

We finally all agreed on blue. Or rather, the four of them chose blue and I said okay. But not just any blue. An iced sky blue was considered to be the right color for me. This vital decision made, it was time for Akiko to whip up something for me to wear.

On this I put a foot down. I refused to wear a fancy dress, because precedent said that when I was really dressed up, I was going to end up attacked and bedraggled. Nathalie backed me on this one, and I was allowed to wear a suit.

Crazed with success, I put the other foot down and insisted the suit jacket and skirt had to be black, leaving only the blouse to be blue. This was met with approval as a “test run” of the color. Decided this was one for the win column and quietly rejoiced.

The rest of my work time was spent in a variety of “fun” ways. Raj, Oliver, and Jenkins had me practicing several prepared speeches and peppered me with both prepared and surprise questions so that I’d be prepared for anything. Prepared—that was the PR and press watchword for Mission: Convention.

Jeff and I, along with the rest of our delegation, got to review the pictures Serene, Vance, and I had taken of the mob of reporters to ensure that we could identify our suspected Yates progeny should they show up at the convention.

Spent time hanging out with Hacker International Plus One to ensure that we got what we wanted from Chernobog and so I could set up what the Dingo would need to cancel her contract. Siler had been right—she and I definitely had an understanding. She and Olga had made a sort of peace brokered by White, so Olga and Adriana were over a lot, too, and this helped me get the agreements from Chernobog I needed.

Speaking of Siler and agreements made with assassins, I spent a good deal of time wondering where in the heck Buchanan, Siler, the Dingo Dog, and Surly Vic actually were. While they’d checked in via phone—and the Dingo had agreed to the terms I’d brokered with Chernobog—they hadn’t shown up physically. Buchanan insisted they were all fine, himself in particular, but it was still a little unsettling to have him gone.

So I had a lot to occupy me during this short time before our big show, but even so, the time flew by and before I knew it, the convention was starting.

The National Convention was scheduled to run for four days. Though Jeff had to be there pretty much the entire time, mercifully, I wasn’t required until the last day. This was supposedly because I was being saved as a “big deal” for the last night. I figured it was so that I would have fewer opportunities to say the wrong things to the wrong people. Not that I wanted to be over there anyway. Plus it gave me extra time to prep and stress and worry about Jeff.

Christopher wasn’t part of our daily delegation, though White, as the former Pontifex, was. As was Amy, since she had sway in the legal and business world, the Gaultier name, and a great deal of public speaking experience.

Doreen and Abigail were also going to represent our principality, Mrs. Maurer was going along as well, to represent the “we’ve changed sides” standpoint, Brian Dwyer was going to represent NASA’s support of our ticket, and of course Caroline was there with McMillan.

Naturally, Gower was part of the delegation, and Reader, Tim, Claudia, Lorraine, and the flyboys were there as well, to represent but mostly to protect everyone else. Similarly, Kevin Lewis was going as part of the P.T.C.U. and he promised me that everyone would be focused on protecting Jeff. And Chuckie, Len, and Kyle were also part of the protection section of our delegation, as were the Barones.

Raj, as our Embassy Public Relations Minister, had a huge role, and he had several other troubadours helping him as well. We had my troubadour “double,” Francine, in reserve, in case of emergencies, meaning she was with the delegation, but mostly in the green room, hanging out.

I had Rahmi and Rhee shape-shift to look like Dazzlers, so they could fit in with the delegation as well. Them I gave specific instructions to protect Jeff at all costs and to figure that somewhere along the way he was going to get attacked. Prayed I wasn’t sending them in to be a two-woman demolition team, but they assured me they were clear on what they should and shouldn’t do.

Christopher was more than a little bitter about all this, especially when Raj shared that he was considered the next likely to blow it right after me, which was why we both were staying in the Embassy until the last possible moment. Considering the K-9 squad was with our delegation, too, dogs and all, it was kind of a big slap to the old ego.

This left only a few of us actually in the Embassy most of the day. Walter, of course, Pierre, Irving, Tito, Nurse Carter, Mahin, Denise and the daycare kids, Christopher, and me. Mahin, like Christopher, was bitter about not getting to go, but Irving was all for having Doreen handle this and had thanked everyone for letting him stay home. Denise, like Irving, was thrilled to be “forced” to stay home to care for kidlets, and Tito and Nurse Carter both said they appreciated having a few days of down time.

Serene requested to stay in the Embassy, partly to keep an eye on Christopher and me, and partly to see what we could spot on TV. Hacker International had brought in extra screens, meaning we almost had a Mini Command Center in the computer lab, so we all hung out with them, Chernobog, and the dozen random A-Cs assigned to guard duty at whatever time.

We watched the first three days’ worth of coverage like we were C-SPAN junkies. We spotted nothing untoward—none of Ronnie’s Kids, none of our assassins, none of our other enemies. And while Club 51, the Church of Hate and Intolerance, and a host of other anti-alien groups were protesting the convention, the National Guard was out in force and they were kept away from the convention and the delegates.

Our delegation was getting a lot of airtime, in part because Jeff was the vice presidential candidate and in part because they were so damned photogenic. If I had been running the cameras, I’d have focused on all the beautiful people, too. The good side of this was that we could keep an eye on pretty much everyone we cared about. The bad side was that we weren’t getting all the coverage we could hope for, meaning that while we hadn’t spotted anyone evil, that didn’t mean they weren’t there.

Somehow the entire place seemed covered with posters of Armstrong and Jeff. Had no idea when they’d taken the picture of Jeff they were using, but he looked amazing—serious, authoritative, but accessible, with his arms crossed over his chest, gazing straight at you. Bottom line, he looked gorgeous. Figured we probably had the straight female and gay male votes locked up.

Our massive team went over early each morning, stayed until late at night, and came back safe and sound. This should have made me happy and calm. Instead, it stressed me out.

“Why are you so tense?” Jeff asked through yawns, as he staggered into our bedroom after another eighteen hours at the convention.

“Just wondering why nothing’s happened yet.”

“Maybe they’re actually going to leave us alone.”

“Maybe.”

“You’ll be great tomorrow, baby.”

“Yeah? I hope so.” I snuggled next to him. He pulled me close, kissed my forehead, and went right to sleep. Another reason to hate politics—it was making my husband so tired he wasn’t up to having sex. For the third night in a row. And I, of course, was wide awake and nervous.

Jeff needed the sleep, and so did everyone else I’d want to talk to in order to calm my nerves. Tried to sleep, but I was too jittery. Got up and went into the closet. Sat on the floor near the hamper. “I can’t sleep.”

Algar appeared, sitting cross-legged on the hamper. “I noticed. Would you like a cup of cocoa?”

“Not really. You told me Jeff was the target, and yet, he’s been reasonably safe.”

“Is that all that’s bothering you?”

“No. Jamie told me that her Poof kept the ‘things’ away. I think she meant Sandy the superconsciousness and maybe some of his friends or relations. But for all I know she didn’t.”

“Anything else?”

“Yeah. I’m worried I’m going to blow it tomorrow in some way.”

“What matters more—you coming off as politically perfect, or protecting your husband and other innocent people?”

“Gosh, let me think. The latter. Protecting Jeff and others.”

Algar hopped down from the hamper and patted my cheek. “Then you’re all ready for tomorrow. And everything else you’ve been waiting for.”

And with that, he snapped his fingers, and I was back in bed with Jeff, as if I’d never left it.

“Very funny,” I grumbled quietly.

“Hmmm?” Jeff said. He pulled me closer. “You awake?”

“Sorta. Worried about tomorrow and having trouble falling asleep.”

He pulled me on top of him. “Then let me help you out with that, baby.” He pulled my head down and kissed me, and all my stress floated away, along with our nightclothes.

Short and sweet for Jeff was still fantastic for me. He stayed on his back and I straddled him, enjoying the slow, sensuous way his hips bucked while his hands fondled my breasts, slid over my stomach, stroked me everywhere.

He flipped me over the edge and kept on, still bucking slowly while his fingertips traced my neck, nipples, and back. As I got closer to the edge again, he sped up and pulled me down, so that my breasts rubbed against his chest and his lips were on mine.

Still kissing me, Jeff slid his hands to my butt, and squeezed gently while shoving me down against him just enough that my lower body went wild. He moved his mouth to my neck, bit me gently, and I climaxed hard, while he exploded inside me.

As our bodies slowed, I stayed draped over him as he pulled the covers back up and over us. I snuggled my face into his neck. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, baby. Get some sleep now. Tomorrow’s going to be a busy day.”

“Busy’s fine. It’s dangerous I’m worried about.”

Jeff chuckled. “No worries. It’ll be routine.” He nuzzled my head. “But if you need me to help you relax some more, just say the word.”

“The word.”

He laughed. “I see.”

“Hey, you just took two nights off. I have needs. But I know you’re exhausted and need the sleep.”

Jeff rolled us over so he was on top of me. “I’m never too exhausted to make you happy, baby.”

“Well then, rest assured—you have my vote.”