Kitty Katt 11: Alien Separation (16 page)

T
HERE WERE APPRECIATIVE
gasps all around from the Lecanora. Nice to keep the locals entertained and impressed.

A thought nudged—I'd known how the Alpha Four force would show up during Operation Invasion in part because I knew they'd want to impress the backwater idiots they'd decided we were on Earth. Gave myself a stern reminder that the Lecanora weren't stupid—and we had to watch ourselves, because my dad loved the movie and therefore forced me to watch
The Man Who Would Be King
many more times than once, and I didn't want anyone trying to cut off Jeff's head and use it as a soccer ball.

This led me to another thought—if the katyhoppers and Lecanora were right, and there were spaceships amassing in their orbital space, then there was a high probability that an impressive arrival meant to awe and terrify the yokels was being planned. Hoped Christopher and Chuckie would be able to find at least some of our scattered team before that happened.

Happily, coming to find us hadn't put the caravan off course too badly on its way to the All Seeing Mountain. Unhappily, the caravan's wagons were pretty well filled with Lecanora, meaning there weren't a lot of places for us to sit, and Jeff point-blank refused to allow any of the Lecanora to walk in order to give us their seats.

“They're not just ostracized,” Jeff said quietly after we'd looked at the last of the packed wagons and once again said we weren't making anyone else walk so we could sit. “They're refugees.”

“Yeah.” I'd seen how basically ragged everything looked up close, too. Nanda's bag had looked pretty good. So she'd given one of her best possessions to Christopher. Really hoped the bag would make it back in good shape. “Meaning that we're aligned with the least likely people on this planet that anyone will listen to.”

“Are you suggesting we leave them?” He sounded shocked and more than a little bit protective.

Managed not to snort a laugh, but only because it would probably be considered un-Godlike. “Hardly. I'm just saying that we shouldn't expect to be greeted like saviors by anyone else we meet, and if we need to convince those in power that we're right—about anything—then it's going to take more than just saying that we have the trust of these folks to do it.”

Amidst a lot of murmurings about the goodness of Leoalla and all that, Jeff and I opted to ride on one of the catapult wagons. There was actually a lot of room, at least by comparison to the cramped covered wagons. And until it got dark and cold and we needed to be inside, it was also a lot less odiferous. Which was a nice way of saying that a lot of the weasel family smooshed in together created a very musky odor.

Ginger and Wilbur joined us on the wagon. Most of the ocellars and chochos were trotting along next to their respective wagons or, in the case of some of the ocellars, hanging about on the catapult wagons. But Ginger was the only ocellar on ours. Got the distinct impression she'd told all the other fox-cats to back off, which impression was made stronger by the fact that she snarled and hissed at a couple of ocellars who tried to join us.

“Is this their catapult?” I asked her.

She gave me a look that said she didn't particularly care, because she'd traded up and
I
was
hers
now, thank you very much. Decided not to argue.

Wilbur was just jazzed about being on the show, basically. Had no idea why he'd been considered weird or dangerous, since he was acting like the happiest pig-dog in the galaxy about being with people who actually petted him.

Pinky was a little problematic. I didn't want the katyhopper to get tired out, especially in case we needed to fly off to help Christopher and Chuckie. But there wasn't room in the catapult wagon for a pony-sized insect, especially with the rest of us in it.

We compromised and Pinky sat on the top of King Benny's wagon, which was enclosed. Pinky was good with this, especially since it meant he could be on watch.

All set up to look like a bizarre traveling circus, we trundled along at a pace that wasn't glacial, but certainly wasn't what Jeff and I were used to. Ignoring hyperspeed, bicycles went faster than this caravan managed to, and the less said about the comparison between a car and a bosthoon-pulled wagon the better. Oxen were faster than bosthoon.

Jeff leaned against the side of our wagon and put his arm around me. “We'll get there, baby. Just try to enjoy the journey.”

“I am. Somewhat. You seem a lot less worried than you were earlier.”

He sighed. “I've forced myself to accept that Jamie's likely to be safe. ACE will protect her and so will Paul, and vice versa. It helps that you think she was pulled to be an option for the Alpha Four throne. I'm hoping that Alexander is okay, and all of us being yanked here just means Renata or someone else we know wants our help, versus our enemies having kidnapped all of us.”

Leaned against him as Ginger settled herself into my lap and Wilbur snuggled up on my other side. “We were taken away at a bad time.”

“There's never a good time. Your mother will advise Vince about what we know.”

“What, you think Mom's going to tell the President that her daughter did a universal body switch with her daughter in another universe and therefore we now know who the Mastermind is?”

“Frankly, yes. Out of all the politicians out there, Vince is the one who's been through the most with us, if you think about it. He knows what's going on more than most, and he's bound himself to us tightly enough that he staked his entire political career on our being a help to him, rather than a hindrance. And if it's you, me, or your mother telling him, he'll believe it.”

“Okay, great. So she tells him. What, if anything, can anyone do? And what about Gideon Cleary and the situation with Stephanie?”

“No idea what they'll do about Goodman. Probably what we would if we were at home—determine where he is and watch him, then wait for him to make a mistake while searching for hard evidence. Frankly, the biggest positive about our being here is that Chuck is here, too, and therefore he's nowhere near Goodman. He'll have some time to process everything before we're back in a situation where he could do something that would ruin his career or his life.”

“I suppose. Of course, him being on an alien planet isn't exactly going to give him tons of time to ponder how he'll kill Cliff without any backlash hitting him or anyone else he cares about.”

“Exactly. I think he needs the cooling off time. I would, if I were in his place. And despite him being a patient person, he's absolutely got a breaking point. I think we're all better off with him here, as opposed to being at home. As for the situation with Cleary, Uncle Richard and Doreen are at least as capable as you and I are of handling anything diplomatic, and you know it, and hunting for Stephanie was already falling into Siler and Buchanan's bailiwick. They'll handle it until we get back.”

“Who are you and what have you done to Jeff?”

He chuckled. “While we were looking at the map, I realized that I had to stop trying to fix what I couldn't and focus on dealing with the situation we're in. We can't find our daughter, family, and friends using our normal methods. I can waste energy railing against that, worrying and complaining, or I can focus on doing the best I can right here and right now.”

“Good philosophy.”

“It's Vince's. I've honestly learned a lot from him. And he's a good guy—he's not going to turn on our people just because you and I are off-planet. He'll be able to cover for why I'm not visible—and I know your mother will brief him so I also know the story they come up with will fly—and hopefully we'll be back home sooner as opposed to later.”

“Yeah. I'm sure more's going on here than we have a clue about. More than what we think, I mean.” Algar was being too helpful without my having asked for assistance for me to think otherwise.

Only a few of us knew who and what Algar was. Me, White, and Gower, ACE and the other superconciousnesses out there, so Naomi probably knew, too, at least now. Gladys Gower had known, because she'd been the head of Security for all of Centaurion Division worldwide. William might know about Algar now. I didn't know. In part because I hadn't asked. Had no idea if I hadn't asked because Algar had prevented it or if I was just that blithely uninterested in key facts. Sadly, time in Bizarro World had confirmed the blithely uninterested option.

Couldn't speak for the others, but White, Gower, and I couldn't talk about Algar to anyone else unless Algar allowed it. If William did know, he'd be under the same restriction. Algar also blocked any thoughts we had about him from anyone else somehow. Being a Black Hole Universe Being had its advantages.

Had a thought and dug around in my purse, moving the Poofs gently. Murphy was in my purse now, too. My purse was Poof Snooze Central at all times. I was okay with this, of course.

Found several things I was and wasn't looking for. My iPod, speakers, earbuds, and phone were all here. All fully charged. And I had a snazzy external charger with a fancy USB universal charger cord that meant I could recharge needed things. Which had not been in my purse the last time I'd looked into it any more than the food bars had.

Pulled my iPod and earbuds out and took a listen. Algar liked to give me musical clues, and it might be nice to get some clues while nothing deadly was going on.

Sure enough, there was a new playlist—Traveling Songs. I'd never created that one. Had a listen and laughed as “Everyday Superhero” by Smash Mouth came on.

“Music making you feel better?” Jeff asked.

“Just helping me remember that, regardless of where we are, we always have a job to do. Saving the day, protecting the innocent, and foiling the evil bad guy schemes.”

Jeff grinned. “Ah. Or as we call it, routine.”

T
HE SCENERY WASN'T
as monotonous as it was in the Purple Land. But the monotony of the Purple Land had been beautiful and serene. Well, mostly. You know, if I didn't think about the snakipedes and dead giant chameleon carcasses.

The landscape here changed more than it did in the Purple Land, so to speak, with different plants, small trees, rocks, and more dotted all over, but it wasn't as pretty. It also wasn't as symmetrically laid out—no straight rows of plants as far as the eye could see here.

However, it was definitely rugged and, in that sense, far more random. More like I was used to wild land being. Frankly, the Bronze Land reminded me a lot of Arizona and New Mexico, though much redder, browner, and so on. The colors on this planet were incredibly vivid.

The bosthoon actually did get up to something faster than a slow walking speed—it just took them a while. A good thirty minutes by my watch. But we were at least trundling along and might have a hope of getting somewhere before we had to stop for the night.

Of course, my watch was useless for telling the real time. I had a guess for what time it was at home on Earth, but that wasn't going be much help here. As far as I could tell in the time we'd been here, the days were longer than ours. But since it hadn't occurred to me to pay attention to my watch pretty much until I was bored with how slowly we were going, I really had no guess for an easy way to determine it. Decided to leave that to Chuckie. More his bailiwick anyway.

My iPod had turned off the moment “Everyday Superhero” was over, meaning Algar either wanted me to save the battery or felt I needed no musical clues right now. Or my iPod was freaked out by being on an alien planet. Chose to go with Theories Number One and Two.

Not that I minded all that much. I'd missed my husband a lot and we really hadn't had much relaxed alone time together. Sure, a catapult wagon didn't scream “romantic ride” but it was calm right now, and that meant we could just relax a little and be ourselves, so to speak.

Based on the map, we'd run into Jeff and the Lecanora closer to the All Seeing Mountain, aka The Center of the World, than where they'd been when Jeff had landed in front of them. Which was good, because it meant both less travel time for us and an easier path into the other lands for Chuckie and Christopher.

Most of the lands had no border patrols and no restrictions upon entering or exiting. The exceptions were the Green Land—because that's where the Lecanoras' king resided—and the Black Lands—so named because they were made of sharp, black volcanic rock which, per Skunky, whose people were from that part of the world, made traveling there somewhat dangerous. Skunky had a name, but I'd slipped and called him Skunky when we were looking at his wagon and he'd taken that as a special name from Shealla and so now everyone was required to call him Skunky.

“Have you noticed how unpopulated this planet seems to be?” I asked Jeff as we headed for a large outcropping of rocks that we were hoping to reach before dark.

“Depends on what you consider the population, I guess. You said the area you landed in had katyhoppers and other life-forms.”

“Yeah, it did, but it was still remarkably . . . serene. So is this part. I mean, you didn't mention running into any other Lecanora on your way to meet up with us.”

“No, these were the only people I saw. I guess we were both lucky to land near sentient beings who could help.”

“I have absolutely no belief in luck like that. First of all, our luck just plain doesn't run that way. And second of all, seriously, if we're in the deserted parts of this world, it's one heck of a coinkydink that not only Chuckie, Christopher, and I landed right by the katyhoppers, but that you landed right by these Lecanora.”

“Do you think that means the others might have landed near people who could help them?”

“Maybe, yeah.”

“Ah, do you think ACE or . . . Jamie had anything to do with that?”

“I'd like to think so, yeah, but I don't have a good guess.” This was a total lie. I had a really good guess. ACE had to feel that he was being watched, based on the fact that the Superconsciousness Supreme Court had paid him a visit during Operation Defection Election. That meant he'd be keeping himself, Jamie, and Gower safe. And sure, he'd have made sure we all landed without dying somewhere. And if I hadn't had my purse with me, I'd have bought the ACE theory all the way.

But I did have my purse. And every one of us had Poofs on Board, per Harlie. Meaning Algar or, more likely, the Poofs on his suggestion, were helping us in ways we couldn't notice.

The question was simple: why?

That Algar liked the A-Cs in general and me in particular had been established. However, he was hiding out on Earth and his dedication to his own personal Free Will Manifesto was pretty impressive.

Meaning there had to be a lot more to all of this than we knew. And that meant there was likely to be a direct threat to Alpha Four, because that was the planet and those were the people Algar had been with for millennia.

Algar had told me that he was responsible for allowing Mephistopheles to destroy his entire solar system, which was against the Black Hole Universe Rules. This was why Algar was a fugitive, and he didn't want to be caught, tried, and put into a sensory deprivation prison for eternity. Could not blame him.

But he was also trying to fix or rectify that mistake in some way, and I had to guess that unrest in this solar system wasn't something he'd want. For a variety of reasons, not wanting to bring yet more attention to our backwater part of the galaxy being the biggest.

And I point-blank knew it was Algar who'd arranged our landings because I desperately wanted to talk to Jeff about all of this and I couldn't. The words literally would not leave my mouth.

Algar being this involved was a rarity. So whatever was coming, he wanted us here, and he wanted us prepared to do something to save the day or similar.

I'd figured out how to kind of work around the whole “Algar won't let me share” thing. It took a heck of a lot of mental and verbal gymnastics, but we had the time and I more than had the desire.

“Jeff, why do you think we're on this planet?”

“Honestly? I think it's a mistake. Like the three of you worked out—whoever was trying to pull us elsewhere, maybe Alpha Four, maybe Beta Twelve, maybe somewhere else, they had some kind of malfunction. Something went wrong in some way and we landed here. Better here than in outer space.”

“Yeah. Only . . .”

“Only?” Jeff shifted to look at me. “You think we were meant to come here?”

“I think there has to be more to where we landed than meets the eye.”

He cocked his head at me. “I know you think we couldn't have been lucky twice, but it's not out of the realm of possibility. Coincidences do happen, even to us.”

“Yeah, I know. Two isn't enough of a sample to be sure.” I was about to mention that three would indicate a pattern, but before I could we were interrupted. And not by Christopher and the others coming back.

All the chochos were bark-honking, Wilbur included.

At nothing. At least, nothing I could see.