Universal Alien (5 page)

“H
ELLO?”
Charles walked out of the dining room.

As he did so, James' phone rang as well—or rather, “Psycho Therapy” by the Ramones started. That was his ringtone for the main modeling agency he worked through. Charles had become James' manager years ago, for a variety of reasons, most of them centered around the fact that James was our best friend and we wanted to be together and take care of each other as much as possible. But the modeling agency preferred to call James directly—Charles said no a lot more than James did.

James followed Charles' lead—both with sighing and stepping away from the table.

Charlie looked at his grandfather. “No, Grandpa Sol. Daddy's not going. And neither is Uncle James.”

I recognized the sounds of their conversations and knew my eldest was right again. “Looks like you guys are stuck with me and me alone.”

“That's okay, Mommy,” Max said cheerfully. “Even though you'll make us do field trip reports, you still buy the best treats.”

We traveled so much, and Charles had suffered so much in school, that we'd made the decision to homeschool our kids as soon as Charlie was old enough to learn to read—in his case, at two years of age. Max had waited until he turned three. With Jamie, I hadn't taught her to read—she had just started taking books and appearing to read them when she was eighteen months old. From the little we got out of her, she was really reading, and comprehending.

So the kids liked going to different sites, but the boys knew they'd have to give some kind of report later. My mother had said that this probably lessened their enjoyment while improving their abilities to observe. She'd approved.

“It's always nice to be appreciated.”

“Yeah, it is,” Charles said as he came back into the dining room. “I'd just like to be a little less appreciated when we have family time planned.”

My turn to sigh. “We came back because they needed you. It's not a total shocker that they want you now, as opposed to later in the week.”

James returned. “Yeah, Chuck isn't the only one being called in.” He handed his phone to Charles, who looked at whatever message was there and grunted. “Sorry to desert you, girlfriend, kidlets. Duty in the name of fashion calls.”

Even though Charlie had predicted this, the boys groaned and Jamie looked unhappy. Before I could add in my disappointment, the sounds of Good Charlotte's “Girls and Boys” hit our airwaves.

I pulled my phone out. “Hey, Caro Syrup, what's shaking?”

“Kit-Kat! You're in town and you haven't called me. I take it we're no longer friends and I should slash my wrists or try to steal your husband, right?”

“Oh, of course, right.” My turn to leave the room and drop my voice. “We had a tough flight in, Caro. Really tough. I'm amazed any of us are up to doing anything today, but all does seem well.”

“Oh, I'm sorry. Jamie had a meltdown?”

“Of epic proportions. She did
not
want to leave Australia. The flight was horrible—turbulence the entire time, and if James wasn't a fantastic pilot and Charles the best navigator around we'd probably be in the news as a tragic crash. I think they're the only ones who didn't throw up, too. The kids were sick the entire trip. And it's a long trip. So that day was hell on earth. And then everyone was exhausted and jet lagged, and yesterday was worse. Not just one kid melting down, but all three, and the five adults lost it, too.”

“Even your dad?” Caroline was my sorority sister and my best friend from college. She'd known me a long time, and knew how even-keeled my dad normally was.

“Yeah, even Dad. I think he couldn't take the rest of us, honestly. It was like an episode of
Jerry Springer
. I'm just thankful Charles' parents stay in Phoenix or Temecula during the U.S. winter, or they'd have gotten to enjoy the ‘fun' and lose their minds, and their cool, too. Believe me, alcohol was imbibed. More for survival than for enjoyment.”

“Sounds horrible. But you just made me feel great about still being single and childless.”

“Glad I could help.”

“Hey, I called because Senator McMillan's in a locked-door meeting and I was given the afternoon off. I was hoping to drag you off shopping or something.” The senior senator from Arizona was married to a sorority sister, albeit one from many years before ours. But that sorority connection had helped—Caroline was his right-hand gal and I was über proud of her. She almost never got time off, so getting a whole afternoon free, right when I was in town, was a rarity not to be tossed aside.

“We were going to hit the zoo. Not that any of the menfolk can actually go, other than my little men. You want to come with?”

“If that's the only way I can see you, sure. But if the kids want to hit the Smithsonian instead, I think their Auntie Caro could arrange some special tours.”

“On this short notice?”

“Kit-Kat, you wound me. I'm a mover and shaker. I've got connections. Besides, the guy who manages the Congressional tours has the hots for me.”

“Despite my desire to see who you're stringing along at the museums and/or the Capitol, after the past couple of days, I think we want to vote for a location where, should a repeat of yesterday happen, we won't be nearly as noticeable.”

“Good point. That's why you're Super Mom. Okay, I'll meet you at the zoo in how long from now?”

Checked my watch. “We just finished brunch and everyone's dressed. In an hour?”

“Sounds good. Don't drive too fast—you haven't been back long enough to be used to driving on the correct side of the road, you know.”

“Everyone's a comedian.” We hung up and I went back to the dining room. “Auntie Caro's going to meet us at the zoo.” The boys cheered and even Jamie looked a little happier. “At noon, so we need to get moving.”

Charles nodded. “We all have to get rolling. I'll drop James at his shoot. Sol, you sure you don't want a ride to the airport?”

“Nope, I'm looking forward to driving my birthday present.” We'd gotten Dad a new Lexus hybrid for his birthday last year and he adored it.

With five adults in our household and three kids to drive around, we had a lot of cars. Probably meant we were conspicuously consuming, but whatever. We were really popular with our Lexus dealer in Silver Spring. Considering Peter wasn't happy with the maintenance company, I'd probably have to take the cars in soon—car care while we were out of the country was part of their service.

“You going to give the ‘super spy' a call?” James asked.

“Wow, you're reading my mind. Well done. Yeah, I was just thinking that I probably better take the cars in to get serviced and visit with Jack.”

Charles groaned. “That just means Ryan's going to show you another new model you want, while his wife drags you off on a shopping spree. Really, you can let me take the cars in.”

“No way. Jack's just a grateful dealership owner and Pia's fun to shop with. She never tries to make me spend too much money.”

“Nope, you can do that all on your own.”

“I resent that. I don't deny it, but I resent it. Besides, I like the Ryans, and you do, too. Stop whining.”

He grinned. “It's called teasing, but I'll stop. You're not taking the cars in today, so we'll worry about it later. And we can crack all the Tom Clancy jokes about his name when we're together—he lives for someone coming up with a new reference.”

Everyone helped me get the kids ready to go then, fortified with a ton of sunscreen and snacks courtesy of Peter and a set of hats courtesy of Dad, hugs and kisses courtesy of everyone, and some great kissing from Charles for me alone, we got the kids into our LX570. It was built like a really attractive tank, but we drove our most precious cargo in it, so I was great with owning the road, so to speak.

It wasn't my favorite car—that was still my old IS300. That car was older than Charlie but still drove like it was on rails and turned on a dime. Charles could tease me about the Ryans all he wanted—Jack ran a great dealership and the service department was unparalleled.

Because it was just two of them, Charles and James could have taken the convertible, but instead they opted for the IS. Couldn't blame them—thankfully there was no snow on the ground, but it was crisp and cool. Definitely not “top down” weather.

My men drove off first, with admonitions to have a lot of fun. I dumped my purse onto the passenger seat, ensured my phone was actively connected to the LX's Bluetooth, then realized I'd forgotten my iPod. “I forgot our music. I'll be right back. You three promise to behave?”

“We promise!” the boys said. Jamie nodded.

“Super, back in a jiffy.” I raced back inside. Heard Peter snarling politely at someone and decided not to bother him. My iPod wasn't where I normally put it, so I had to search for a couple of minutes to find where one of the kids had left it.

Back downstairs, Peter was still snarling about the lack of anything being cared for while we were out of the country, so I headed straight back to the car. Made sure my iPod was connected to our audio system, triple-checked that everyone was safely buckled in, then turned on our music. “What do we want to hear today?”

“Jack Johnson!” the boys shouted in unison.

“Mister Surfer Dude of Coolness it shall be, then.” I turned on my Mellow Man playlist and the sounds of “Upside Down” wafted over our airwaves.

“The song is right,” Jamie said. “We're going to go upside down. We should stay home.”

“We'll be fine, Jamie-Kat.”

The boys chose to ignore their sister and sing along with the music. This was probably the better choice. As near as we could tell, Jamie didn't like music. A doctor we'd seen in Paris had said that she was listening to a different soundtrack inside her own head, and until we could match that, we wouldn't make any progress with her. Charles said he was a quack, and Dad and James had agreed. But sometimes I wondered if Dr. Marling was right.

Heeding Caroline's warning, I decided not to take Beach Drive and to go through all of Rock Creek Park to get to the zoo. Instead I headed for 17th Street to hit 16th Street and go that way.

While the boys sang along to the music I relaxed and enjoyed being back in this area. I was looking at the road, but I was also looking around, paying attention to everything. Which was why I spotted the black sedan behind us.

All of our cars were black—my favorite color for cars—but this wasn't one of ours. It looked like a Lincoln Town Car, so it was probably a limo of some kind. Only limos normally didn't have metal push bars on the front. And I was pretty darned sure this one was following us.

Reminding myself that I was probably just overreacting based on the past couple of days, I did a test. The light coming up was yellow. Normally I'd have stopped, but the road was clear in front of me and in the intersection, so I floored it, and made our right turn onto 16th Street as the light turned red.

The black Lincoln turned right into oncoming traffic. My mother had always told me to trust my gut. And my gut said that whoever was behind us couldn't mean us any good. We were the family of an extremely wealthy man—that meant we were targets for kidnapping. We didn't spend our lives thinking about this, but the thought was always there in the back of my mind, the fact that someone could decide to use us to get money from Charles.

As I sped up, I hit the Bluetooth and made the call. “Miss me already?” Charles said as he answered.

Took a sharp left onto Alaska Avenue. What a pity that Walter Reed had moved to Bethesda—we'd have been conveniently close to a hospital otherwise. On the other hand, I wanted to avoid any of us needing medical attention. The Lincoln followed us, proving that something bad was surely trying to happen. Found myself wondering if I should head for Bethesda, just in case.

“I think—” I was going to share that I thought we were being followed and were probably in danger. Only the Lincoln slammed into our rear and my head slammed into the steering wheel before I could say anything else.

As I started to lose control of the car and consciousness, I felt something—no, really, some
one
—go through me. And then, blackness.

I
COULD SORT OF HEAR
the sounds of panic around me. Same as when I'd given birth to Jamie, I could also see myself, because I was outside of my body.

Not far outside. So I couldn't see, say, the entire arena. Meaning that, whatever else was going on, I was going to miss the rest of the cricket match. I was okay with this.

What I wasn't okay with was everything else. Things were chaotic but I could see Jeff's expression, and he looked terrified. Could hear people telling him to wait for an ambulance. Could hear Chuckie calling for medical help and prepping Walter Reed to expect my arrival. Could hear Raj calling for Tito and telling him to meet us at the hospital. Heard my Secret Service unit telling Jeff to get me lying down flat.

Jeff scooped me up into his arms. “None of those will be fast enough. The hospital's in Bethesda. And it's an hour from here by car. Five minutes is too long. Deal with the fallout,” he said to Raj and Chuckie. Then he ran, carrying me, at his fastest hyperspeed.

The beauty of A-Cs and their hyperspeed was that the idea of going as the crow flies was something they were quite familiar with and wholeheartedly approved of. Jeff was right—to get to Walter Reed from the football stadium was an easy 45 minutes without traffic. However, it was probably about three minutes or less when Jeff was running. His cousin, Christopher White, would have been faster, but Christopher had stayed home. Wish I'd followed his lead, but figured I'd better focus on staying home with my body.

“Hang on, baby,” Jeff said as we ran. “It's okay. Don't leave me, Kitty. You stay with me.”

I tried to, I really did. But as we neared what looked like the outskirts of Rock Creek Park I heard something else. The sounds of, of all things, Jack Johnson singing “Upside Down.” This wasn't the song I wanted to die to. I didn't want to die at all, but especially not while Mr. Put You To Sleep was crooning.

Then I felt us go through something, though if what I was seeing was correct, nothing was there, and Jeff hadn't run us into anything. I mean, sure, we were on the street, but Jeff was going so fast the cars and people were as motionless as the buildings.

Whatever we went through didn't feel solid, but it felt real. Real weird and real tingly, but real nonetheless.

There was a flash of light. I saw the Universe Wheel, the same one I'd seen when Jamie was born and I'd basically died in the delivery room. The one that looked like the most gigantic slide projector wheel ever, showing all the different universes in the multiverse.

I'd forgotten all about the Universe Wheel until now. Didn't have time to marvel about this, or the Wheel, because there were other pressing matters demanding my attention. Just as before, there was a golden thread attached to me now, but it wasn't the only thread I saw. Another thread crossed with mine as I and the person attached to said other thread flew past each other.

Managed one quick look. She looked like me. Dressed a little differently, hair styled a little differently, but otherwise, me. Figured our expressions were probably the same—openmouthed shock.

We passed like those proverbial ships in the night, then the feeling disappeared.

And so did the Universe Wheel, the golden string, and presumably my doppelganger.

Something else disappeared, too.

Jeff.