Alien in the House (3 page)

“R
OGER THAT,
Walt. Leaving Planet Pink pronto. But, to keep the theme going, why don't you pipe “Pink” by Aerosmith through the sound system.”

“On it, Chief.” The melodious sounds of Steven, Joe, and the rest of my boys sailed into my ears. It made the sparkly pinkness seem more appropriate. At least to me.

Jeff shook his head. “Only my girl. Shall we?”

“Stairs or elevator?”

“Stairs,” Reader said firmly. “For those of us who know the two of you well, being in an elevator with you makes us feel like we're interrupting your sexy times.”

“Hilarious. Accurate, but hilarious.” So Jeff and I still took every opportunity to do the deed, especially in elevators. So what? It was part of the foundation of a good marriage, at least in my opinion.

Reader flashed the cover boy grin. “Besides, it's only one flight down. If we were going up to the top, I'd ignore my delicate sensibilities and vote for the elevator.”

Three years ago, if anyone had suggested to me that I'd be living in the American Centaurion Embassy as one of the Co-Head Diplomats, I'd have asked who American Centaurion was before laughing my head off.

If they'd also mentioned that I'd be married to an alien from the Alpha Centauri system, along with having been a superbeing exterminator, then the Head of Airborne for Centaurion Division, or that I'd have saved the world multiple times, I'd have fallen on the floor, rolling around, begging them to stop being so funny.

Of course, if they'd told me my parents and best guy friend from high school had masqueraded as normal while actually leading secret lives drenched in espionage, or that I'd also be besties with a former top international male model, I'd have probably had to go to the hospital from hilarity overload.

We walked to the first floor with said former male model and went to the front door to find said best guy friend from high school, Charles Reynolds, head of the E-T Division for the C.I.A., chatting with Pierre.

Chuckie wasn't alone, however. Cliff Goodman, the current Head of Special Immigration Services reporting directly to the Secretary of Homeland Security, stood there with him. With Jeff and Reader here, we had a lot of power standing in our foyer.

“Why are you both here so early?” Reader asked. He sounded mildly annoyed. This seemed to be the Standard Reaction Mode for whoever was the Head of Field for Centaurion Division when dealing with Chuckie.

“Not that it isn't great to see you both,” I added. Hey, I was the Co-Head Diplomat and I tried to practice my diplomatic skills whenever it was convenient and easy. “Unless you're bringing news of doom and gloom, and then come back later, okay?” I also didn't like to overdo the practicing.

Chuckie grinned. “No, for once, not coming by to share how the world's going to end tomorrow.”

Good. I wouldn't have to tell Walter to spin “Paint it Black” by the Rolling Stones. Though I had Stones songs on the playlist for tonight's festivities because the British ambassador was supposed to be in attendance and I wanted to play more nicely than I had before and pretend I thought the Stones were sort of in the same league as Aerosmith, even though Aerosmith was the greatest and the Stones were merely good.

Cliff nodded. “Under the circumstances, the Department wanted to ensure that you and we feel your Embassy is secure. I decided to come by with Chuck, as opposed to sending a team here.”

“Thanks, we appreciate that,” Jeff said. “So, what do you need to see?”

“Any common areas the guests will be in,” Cliff replied. “This is really just a formality, not a white glove test.”

“Excuse me?” Jeff sounded confused, which wasn't a surprise.

“Earth saying. Your mother would understand it.” This I knew for fact. Happily, the A-C Operations team, who I called the Elves because I never, ever saw them perform their wondrous and magical duties, handled the cleaning of every A-C facility, including the Embassy. If the cleaning was left up to me, we'd be decorating in the finest of Washington, D.C. dust. I didn't hate housekeeping, but we weren't exactly best buds forever, either.

Jeff grunted. “So, where do we start?”

“Basement,” Cliff said. “Let's do this quickly so you can all get back to prepping for the party tonight.”

“You all go on ahead,” Chuckie said. “I need to talk to Kitty for a minute.”

Jeff gave us both a searching look, shrugged, kissed my cheek, and he and the other men trotted off. This was the result of massive personal growth on Jeff's part, much of which had happened because he'd finally caught on that Chuckie was no longer in love with me and was, in fact, in love with Naomi Gower, who was one of Jeff's cousins.

I waited until the others were out of earshot. “Okay, what's going on?”

“I need to run some things by you, and I don't want an audience for it.”

“Is this about the two dead representatives and the one really sick one?”

“No.” He gave me the “you so crazy” look. I got that look a lot. “Why would those incidents, however tragic, be related to tonight's party or any of us in any way?”

“Dude, I figured it was safer to ask. You know how they teach you how to spell ‘assume', right?”

Chuckie shook his head with a laugh, and led me down the hall into Jeff's office, closing the door behind us. He sat at the edge of Jeff's desk. “I need you to talk to ACE.”

ACE was a collective superconsciousness I'd managed to channel into Paul Gower what seemed like eons ago but was, in reality, only about two years prior. Gower was not only one of Chuckie's future brothers-in-law, but he was also the current Supreme Pontifex for the A-Cs, or, as I liked to think of it, their Pope With Benefits.

“Why don't you ask Paul whatever it is you need to ask ACE?”

“I have. He says that ACE doesn't want to talk to me.”

“Huh.” ACE had never had any issue with Chuckie in the past. “What do Naomi and Abigail think?” The Gower girls were the most powerful of the talented A-Cs, to the point where no one, not even Chuckie and the girls themselves, knew the full extent of their powers.

At least, they had been. Until the interstellar invasion.

Naomi and Abigail had used their powers to protect all the various D.C. monuments at the National Mall—and all the people inside them. They'd managed to preserve our nation's capital and history as well as many thousands of innocent people, but it had come at a cost. They'd had to use so much power for such an extended period of time, it had burned them both out. No one was sure if the burnout was temporary or permanent. The girls seemed to be handling this well, but I wasn't as intimate with them as Chuckie was.

Chuckie shook his head. “They haven't talked to ACE since . . . right after the invasion attempt.”

“Operation Destruction was pretty hard on everyone.”

“Yes, it was. We test Mimi and Abby all the time. They still have no more powers than a non-talented A-C.”

“I know you'll get mad at me for the suggestion, but have you considered giving them a Surcenthumain boost?” Surcenthumain had been created by a whole host of our enemies, Amy's late father foremost among them, and it was the reason Jeff, Christopher, and Christopher's “lost aunt” Serene all had beyond-expanded powers. It was also the reason I wasn't fully human anymore, Jamie having done the mother and child feedback that turned me into a semi-alien.

Chuckie sighed. “All moral and ethical issues aside, Mimi and Abby aren't handling being ‘normal' as well as they think they are, so I've thought about it. But I don't want to risk it without some sort of confirmation that it would actually work.”

“What does Tito think?”

“Doctor Hernandez isn't convinced that we have enough data to safely guess, and none of us like the idea of using Mimi and Abby, let alone anyone else, as test subjects.”

Chuckie was giving me a look that said I was asking stupid questions. I decided to take the logic leap. “So that's why you want to talk to ACE.”

“Finally. Yes.”

“Does Paul know why you want to talk to ACE?”

“Yes.”

“Huh. Well, okay, let me give it a shot.” I'd been the one who'd figured out what was going on with ACE when we'd first “met,” and therefore ACE had a soft spot for me. As Reader put it, ACE cared most about me and Gower.

Because I never wanted ACE to feel that I took him for granted, I only contacted him when it was important. Nothing had been Earth-shattering, either literally or figuratively, for these past months, so I'd left ACE alone.

I sat in one of the chairs in Jeff's office, closed my eyes, and thought in my mind.
ACE, are you there?

I waited.
ACE?

I waited a bit longer, while doing my best to hold down the panic. Maybe leaving ACE alone hadn't been a wise plan.

ACE? ACE, are you there, are you okay?

Waited a few more long, silent moments. Opened my eyes, cleared my throat, and shared the scary news. “He didn't answer. And I . . . I couldn't feel him.”

C
HUCKIE NODDED.
“That's what I was afraid of.”

“Do you think ACE has left us? Or . . . died?” I didn't know if ACE could die in the ways a human would understand, but I did know he could be injured, and we'd dissipated a similar superconsciousness, so ACE wasn't invulnerable.

“I don't know. I do know, based on the intel we got from Richard White, that if Gower were killed while ACE was joined with him then the PPB-Net that represents ACE will collapse in on itself and destroy the Earth. I'd have to guess if ACE were to . . . die that it would negatively affect Gower, perhaps even kill him. Gower's alive and well and we're all still here, so I don't know that ACE is dead, at least as we'd be able to comprehend it.”

White was Christopher's father and the former Pontifex, who now also resided at the Embassy and was my partner whenever we got to kick evil butt, which happened with a lot less frequency these days. “Have you asked Richard about this?”

“No. The people who are most likely to get a reply from ACE are you and Gower, Mimi, Abby, and Serene. Serene's tried to reach ACE, as have Mimi and Abby. None of them could get a response. Mimi and Abby put it down to their talent loss. Serene thinks it's because she's not as close to ACE as the others.”

“But you don't think that at all.”

“Of course not. ACE has never shown himself to be unwilling to talk to any of them. And he was talking to you well before you gained any kind of A-C talents.”

“Yeah, he's always there for his favorite penguins.”

“I'm worried that our benevolent observer has left us, and if that's the case, Earth is back to being very alone, lonely, and vulnerable.”

“Why so? Alpha Four are our friends, and so are the rest of the planets in that system.”

“Yes,” Chuckie said patiently, “they are. And how do we contact our friends when we need them?”

“We ask ACE to connect us. Crap.” I felt sick to my stomach. I hadn't worried about ACE much. I'd checked on him after we'd all survived the Dino-Bird alien invasion attempt, of course. “The last I spoke with ACE was when we were doing cleanup after Operation Destruction. He told me he was tired and needed to rest, just like the rest of us did.”

“There's a possibility that ACE left us in case he was going to die, so he wouldn't destroy the Earth.”

“There's also a possibility that he's so hurt that he can't talk to us. I have no vote for which one of those ideas is worse, by the way, but thanks so much for choosing to have this conversation with me right before I have to entertain a bunch of politicians.”

He shook his head. “We've become reliant on ACE. If he's not there for us any more, we need to be prepared for it.”

“Why are you discussing this with me and not Jeff or James or anyone else?”

“Because Gower isn't willing to admit that ACE isn't chatting with him on a regular basis. As far as I can tell, he hasn't told Reader.” Reader was not only the Head of Field, but he was Gower's husband. “And if he hasn't told Reader, then he hasn't told anyone.”

“Yeah, I can agree there.” Chuckie was the smartest person in any and all rooms, so it didn't shock me that he'd figured out what was going on. “So, you think Paul knows, or suspects something's wrong with ACE and is hiding it to avoid mass panic?”

“Yes, nice of your brain to join the party.”

“Blah, blah, blah. Does anyone else suspect?”

“No, I don't think so, mostly because no one else really understands how we work with ACE, and most don't know that he exists, in that sense.”

“What about Naomi, Abigail, and Serene?”

“I told them I didn't want to bother the Pontifex with my request. When they couldn't reach ACE, I said I'd talk to Gower about it. Mimi and Abby can no longer tell if I'm lying, and Serene can only do it if she's touching a picture of me, and I gave her no reason to race out to grab a camera.”

“Not dissing the skills, Secret Agent Man, just checking. Have you talked to Cliff about it?”

“Absolutely not, and you shouldn't, either. I don't even want you talking to your husband about this. This is the highest security issue we have right now, and it affects the entire world.”

“Well, I can do my best to take this news to my grave, but where have you missed the fact that, since his special Surcenthumain boost, Jeff can pretty much read my mind when he wants to?”

The door opened and Jeff came in, closed and locked the door behind him. “And I also pick up when she's stressed, simply by being the strongest empath on the planet. Though, I get why you don't want this spread around,” he said to Chuckie.

“Can you feel ACE?” Chuckie asked him.

Jeff shook his head. “No. I've never even thought to try before, so I wouldn't know what ACE would feel like emotionally, even if I could access him.”

“Can you get Gower to tell me the truth about what he knows?” Chuckie asked.

“Possibly, but not tonight. The party has to take precedence unless you're going to tell us to declare a state of emergency.”

“No, I agree.” Chuckie rubbed the back of his neck. “The last thing I want is anyone actually knowing that we have no idea where ACE is, in that sense.”

The com sprang to life. “Excuse me, Chiefs,” Walter said. “Missus Lewis asked me to remind you that it's almost time for Jamie to have dinner.”

“Thanks, Walt, we'll be right there.”

“I'll relay, Chief.” The com went dead.

Chuckie's eyes were narrowed. “Think he was listening in?”

“No. If the com's on, you can hear that little white noise sound, and eavesdropping is
not
Walter's thing.” Walter was the youngest A-C agent to ever get assigned to be Head of Security for any facility. As such, he was incredibly dedicated, and eavesdropping was frowned upon when we weren't in emergency situations. I looked at my watch. Sure enough, Jamie's dinnertime was in thirty minutes. “Denise has Walter do these reminders when we're busy, so I don't forget.”

“It's redundant,” Jeff said. Of course, Jeff never, ever forgot Jamie's dinner time, lunch time, or breakfast time. Or anything else related to our daughter. He was the best daddy in the world. He insisted I was the best mommy, but Denise was quite aware that I got distracted, at least occasionally.

“Whatever. So, what do we tell everyone about this powwow? Because I can guarantee they're going to ask what we were talking about.”

“Wedding plans,” Chuckie replied. “Discussing the wedding party.”

“Still?”

He rubbed the back of his neck again. “Yeah, well, our wedding party isn't set yet, and every delay means things move around even more, so it works as a cover.”

“Yeah, well, I can relate. Sort of.”

“We went in the opposite direction, baby,” Jeff reminded me.

This was true enough. We'd had to move our wedding up by several weeks in order to foil one of the many Bad Guy du Jour plans. However, the delays Chuckie and Naomi were going through weren't anything any of us could avoid.

What with all the invasion drama and whatnot, the powers that be—which included the President and many other major countries' leaders, including Australia's, where Chuckie normally lived half the year—all felt that what would help solve many issues was a good ol' Royal Wedding Extravaganza.

Jeff and I having already done said Extravaganza was good, because the
World Weekly News
had the pictures—courtesy of our favorite paparazzo, Mister Joel Oliver—and was re-running them regularly. But Christopher and Amy having had the nerve to forego a big wedding meant that Chuckie and Naomi, being the next in line to get married, were now the “It” couple for the big to-do. I didn't envy them. At all.

A large part of my lack of envy was that they were probably the least involved bride and groom ever, in terms of what kind of say they were getting in regard to their own nuptials. I mean, I'd been uninvolved, in that sense, but Reader had handled everything, and done it well, and I'd actually had veto power.

Every decision Chuckie and Naomi made had to go up through both the A-C and U.S. governments. And then, and only then, could they actually run said decisions by their families. And then any changes the families wanted went right back up the chain. Needless to say, this took time, which added to the overall frustration factor.

Wedding By Committee was no one's idea of a fun time. That neither one of them had killed anyone yet was a magnificent testament to the fact that they were, apparently, the most patient couple on the planet.

“So, what's the issue Jeff and I are helping you solve, wedding party-wise?”

Chuckie sighed and looked slightly embarrassed. “I still don't have my side chosen, and that includes the best man.”

“Paul's performing the ceremony, right?” Jeff asked. It was sad that we actually had to ask, but who was marrying Chuckie and Naomi had changed at least six times so far by my count.

“Yes. That's been finally and officially approved and, God willing, nothing's going to change it. And Reader, as his husband, is a groomsman, and so is Michael.” Michael was the fourth Gower sibling. He was younger than Gower, though like his older brother he was big, black, bald, and gorgeous. Michael was older than Naomi, with Abigail holding down the baby of the family slot.

Michael was also an astronaut and the A-C Player of the Year, Every Year. “Having Michael must be kind of like a double for whoever's making demands, right? I mean, an astronaut has to be a decent draw or coup or whatever it is they're looking for.”

“True enough. And while Reader's joyfully taken over the role of Reynolds Hater that your husband here held so happily for so long, I don't have any objection to him being in the wedding party.”

Jeff laughed. “Just took getting to know the real you.”

Chuckie snorted. “Whatever spin makes you happy.”

“So, you have two dudes so far. How many girls are on Naomi's side?”

“Abigail, of course, and she's Maid of Honor. Also confirmed and, please God, not changing. Then you, Amy, and Caroline.”

“Really? I hate to sound really stupid and out of it, but Naomi hasn't actually asked me.” And I had to figure if she hadn't asked me, then she hadn't asked Amy or Caroline, either.

Chuckie gave me a major “duh” look. “You're the human face of American Centaurion. Even if we all hated you, you'd be in the wedding. Besides, you're my best friend. Mimi's always planned to have you in the wedding party.”

“Well, you know, happy to and all that. Will she be mad that you've told me?”

“No, I think she assumes you already know. She's having trouble with not being able to read anyone, so she's choosing to believe that everyone else is now reading her.”

Interesting. “Okay, so you need a couple more guys, right?”

“Oh no, I need more than a couple. Remember how your husband was inviting everyone to be a groomsman when you were engaged?”

“Vividly.” I'd had to pull in gals from the Alpha Centauri system to fill my side. Conveniently, they'd been on Earth helping us handle a much smaller invasion than the one we'd just gone through. We'd done better with Invasion Lite than we'd done a few months ago, but Earth still being here and populated by humans and our Earth A-Cs was absolutely one for the win column.

“Oh, it wasn't that bad,” Jeff said, sounding a little hurt. “Besides, it was nice to have everyone involved in our special day.” That Jeff could say this with absolutely no humor in his voice showed how much more romantic than me he was. Because I couldn't think of our wedding as “our special day” without having to control my Inner Hyena.

Chuckie shook his head at Jeff. “Again, whatever spin you like, but it boils down to the fact that Mimi's doing the same thing. Serene, Claudia, and Lorraine are back on bridesmaid duty, there are a couple gals I've met twice and I don't think you actually know invited, and she's not done.”

“Why so many? Of course, I'd have been okay with just you and James up there with me, but I know I'm different.”

He grinned. “Yeah, you are. And I think she's asking what feels like half the world because everyone's encouraging her to do it. By everyone, I mean on the political side. Her parents and brothers have pretty much given up and just smile and nod whenever Mimi suggests anything.”

“What's Abigail think?”

“She tried sanity for a while, got tired of being snapped at, and has joined the rest of the family in the smiling and nodding department.”

Okay, so Naomi was turning into a freaked-out Bridezilla. Understandable and no worries, we could get that under control. I hoped.

I'd seen some of this over the past months, but even though I'd made both Gower girls our Cultural Attachés, they hadn't really done much since losing their powers, including stay at the Embassy. Wondered now if I should have forced them to work to keep their minds off of what they'd lost. As with the situation with ACE, nothing I could do about it at this moment. Tabled the worry for another time.