Aliens Abroad

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Aliens Abroad Page 6

by Gini Koch


  Raj was doing the first portion of the speaking, so the rest of us were seated with those “lucky” enough to be nearest to the stage. As with the dignitaries’ section, most of our friends and family weren’t actually sitting all that near to us. I only managed to spot where Christopher and his family were because his wife and my other female BFF from high school, Amy Gaultier-White, was a redhead and so were their children. Becky, who was nearing twenty months, was on Christopher’s lap, and Jeffrey Richard, who we all called JR and who was ten months old, was on Amy’s.

  They were surrounded by the rest of those with kids in our inner circle, as well as the rest of the A-Cs who were coming to support Jeff, which included his parents, older sisters, and their families. That we knew we couldn’t trust parts of several of those families just made it all the more exciting, in that totally negative way.

  Chuckie and Nathalie were sitting next to my kids, and it was going to be up to them to keep Charlie under control once I stepped away, jobs not normally assigned to the Director of the CIA and the Secretary of Transportation, but handled well by my oldest BFF and his girlfriend.

  Fortunately, Charlie adored the man he was named after, and the moment he could he squirmed out of my arms and demanded to be with his Uncle Chuckie. Jamie, not to be outdone, also demanded to be on Uncle Chuckie’s lap, since she was the eldest and therefore required to be his favorite. Chuckie managed both kids well, and Lizzie went on his other side, so that she and Nathalie were ready for anything, with Nadine sitting behind us so as to offer nanny assistance as needed.

  Vance and Algar were next to Nadine, meaning it would be hard to see Algar, since he was blocked by Chuckie, who was tall. Had a feeling that this was what Algar wanted but couldn’t be sure. Knew it was what Vance wanted, at least if he wasn’t being mind-controlled. My parents were next to Vance as well, but somehow my kids were content to maul Chuckie, versus Mom and Dad. Chose not to complain—my parents were there if Chuckie needed a helping paw or two.

  The rest of our section was made up of Jeff’s Cabinet, the Joint Chiefs of Staff—including the Head of the Joint Chiefs, who I called my Uncle Mort and who was sitting next to Dad, who called him his big brother—and other military, as well as other politicians near and dear to either us or the cause of space integration.

  Somehow all of my children’s musical chairs hadn’t caused the audience to lose focus on Raj, and I chose not to care what the media was doing with it. Jeff and I got to sit for a whole three minutes, then Raj finished and it was time for us to take the stage. Had to leave my purse with Nathalie and really hoped I wouldn’t need it.

  Jeff held my hand and helped me up the steps and into position, ensuring that I didn’t trip and he had that little extra comfort of holding onto someone who was a hundred percent in his corner.

  Now came the hard part, at least for me. I had to keep a look of rapt attention and total spousal support on my face without allowing support to turn to lust, boredom, or distraction. I wasn’t one with meditation, let alone meditation that required specific facial expressions and thoughts, so this was a really hard thing for me to accomplish, particularly since staring at Jeff tended to set off my Lust Meter in less than five seconds. My team had been having me practice for weeks. I was better, but I still wasn’t up to the level of Top First Ladies Past.

  Focused on what a great man and leader Jeff was as he gave an excellent speech I didn’t really listen to because I’d already heard it several times before when he was practicing. However, it was the first time for most of the audience present and all of the audience watching and listening over the airwaves, so I did keep a tiny part of my mind focused on it. The audience seemed totally into it—laughing at all the right places, clapping in some, getting teary in others. Jeff really was great at everything he did.

  Jeff introduced the Distant Voyager’s crew, who came out to great cheers and applause. The ship was already prepped for their voyage—to Alpha Four first, then to Vatusus to give Drax’s father our regards and thanks and thereby ensure that two of our most vital allies felt complimented—but they were taking off tomorrow. Today was given to all the pomp and circumstance—tomorrow was focused on the real deal.

  Happily, the speech went off without a hitch. Made a mental note that doing these things on a military base was great because everyone had been thoroughly searched and no one had complained too much. Considered suggesting we do this all the time as Jeff and I left the stage, waving at the crowd and cameras, while the audience applauded.

  Now it was time to tour the Distant Voyager. Not everyone was allowed in, but the First Family definitely was, and that meant our entourage was as well. Sure, most of that entourage were security personnel, but still, it worked out. And no one asked about Algar, beyond formal introductions. He was carrying the Royal Hatbox and no one asked about that, either. Chose not to care or complain, nor ask why he was the one who handed me my purse back. Put it over my neck and followed the Lucky Herd up and into the ship.

  The Visiting Dignitaries weren’t making a fuss about getting inside because they’d been toured through the ship last week, so as to keep everyone safe and keep the media out. Same with anyone else who felt they had an “in” with Jeff, me, or anyone else related to the ship. So we had fewer people to deal with, and most of them were in Jeff’s Cabinet or similar, though we did have American Centaurion well represented, Embassy personnel in particular and, of course, Alpha Team was here, because it was their job to be and, besides, it was fun to share this with our closest friends and family.

  The news crews allowed inside weren’t nearly as numerous as those that had been there for the speech. Basically it was the Good Day USA! crew, Bruce Jenkins, aka the Tastemaker, top investigative journalist Mister Joel Oliver, and the photographer/cameraman they both used these days, Dion Callen France. That was it, because privilege had its benefits and those news teams that had shown their loyalty to us were the ones with the privilege and therefore the benefits.

  Brian was in charge of the media spin and all visitors inside the ship. He wasn’t the Commander—that fell to Daniel Chee, whom we’d met during Operation Drug Addict—but he was second in command and, since he was married to the President’s cousin, that gave him the face role. The rest of the crew seemed more than happy to let Brian have the spotlight, too.

  All of Airborne were also crew on the flight and part of the crew. Tim Crawford—Head of Airborne and still doing the job of mine that was my favorite—and my flyboys had been to the Alpha Centauri system and flown spaceships that were not Earth or even human created. They’d earned their spots. Besides, as Chuckie put it, that way we’d have six guys who’d shoot first and ask questions later if anything went wrong. And since A-Cs had reflexes so fast that they couldn’t work human machinery, it made more sense to have humans on the crew than not.

  We’d had one A-C astronaut—the late Michael Gower. But no other A-Cs had shown an interest, so even though the Distant Voyager had controls an A-C could use and not destroy, I’d had to assign my A-C security team to be on the ship. They were the only A-Cs that were going to be on board. They weren’t thrilled with the assignment, but they’d stopped whining about it weeks ago.

  Like Amy and their kids, Christopher wasn’t with us. But since he was literally the fastest man alive, no one could see him if he was moving at his version of hyperspeed, which is what he did during things like this so that he could intervene in case things went wrong. He was outside, manning the perimeter, ensuring that nothing bad could happen there, ready to be called in if needed.

  Otherwise, most everyone’s spouses or significant others were here, too, though their kids were presumably wherever Amy and hers were, being safe and not touching things. Additionally, we had Prince Wasim of Bahrain and his personal bodyguard, Naveed Murad, with us. Wasim was eighteen now, a senior at the Sidwell Friends School, and still hoping to get Lizzie to select him as her Dude Of Cho
ice. Until that time, he was making do with being her best friend and enjoying hanging out with all of our friends and family.

  Due to a variety of circumstances, Wasim had been moved into the White House with us for a while. He had an apartment at the Cairo, but he’d given it to Marcia and her family in a gracious move during Operation Fundraiser. Ultimately, we’d moved him and Naveed into the Embassy, where we could keep them both safe and Wasim wasn’t sleeping down the hall from Lizzie but was sleeping down the hall from Siler. His grandfather, King Raheem of Bahrain, approved of all of this, which was what mattered, since he was one of our staunchest allies in the Middle East.

  One of our other staunchest Middle Eastern allies was here, too. Ali Baba Gadhavi, the notorious crime lord turned Galactic Good Guy was in the select viewing group. This was because his schedule hadn’t allowed for him to come when the other dignitaries had taken their tour. While I thought of King Raheem as a teddy bear, Gadhavi was definitely a grizzly, and you made accommodations for grizzlies. Besides, Gadhavi had made it a personal goal to help Wasim get game, and I appreciated that he made the effort, because I liked Wasim a lot and the kid needed all the help he could get.

  The press was having a field day, filming, photographing, and interviewing everyone who was on board. Because we’d been infiltrated by a fake Good Day USA! cameraman during Operation Fundraiser, Len and Kyle had been put on camera duty once the interior tour started, so they were with Adam and the Kristie-Bot, going all over the ship with White and Gower, who were doing whatever it was Former and Current Supreme Pontifexes did at times like these, which was probably wrangling most of the politicians, who were staying as near to the film crew as possible.

  “It’s very Star Trek, isn’t it?” I asked Nathalie quietly, while we stood around and listened to Brian describe the command deck and I held Charlie so that Chuckie could do his Director of the CIA thing which meant wander off and spy on people, but casually. Jamie was with Lizzie and Wasim, who was holding her on his shoulder so she could see over everyone’s heads.

  She nodded. “But it makes sense. The crew will be living here, even though the trip shouldn’t take too long.”

  Would have replied but realized that I didn’t see Algar or the Royal Hatbox anywhere. Did my best to look around surreptitiously. Hadn’t had a chance to advise Christopher of Algar or the least weasels’ presence and didn’t want an accidental incident—I truly wasn’t sure if Christopher could move faster than Algar could see and now wasn’t the time to find out.

  Also wasn’t sure what Algar could or couldn’t hide from Siler. Not that I could tell where Siler was, either. He was likely blending and possibly outside with Christopher. Or they could both be standing next to me or moving at warp speed throughout the ship. Basically, I wouldn’t know so I chose not to worry about it.

  Didn’t spot the rest of Team Tough Guys, either, but that just meant that Buchanan didn’t want me to see him, and John Wruck, who was an Anciannas and our version of the Martian Manhunter, could have merely shape-shifted into someone innocuous in order to blend in. Or they were all outside with Christopher, too.

  Brian led us off the command deck and down to the crew’s quarters. These were really nice and I could see all the Drax Industrial touches that made the ship more than merely functional. It would be a pleasant place to spend time, even on longer flights where warp might not be used.

  Charlie reared back and looked right at my face. “Mommy, your real name is Kitty, right?”

  “Right, well, that’s my nickname. Just like your real name is Charles Maxwell Martini but we call you Charlie, Mommy’s name is Katherine Sarah Katt-Martini, but I like to be called Kitty because that’s what your Nana Angela and Papa Sol called me and what all my friends call me, too. Why?”

  He smiled. “Just being sure.” He nestled his face against my neck and went to sleep. Chose not to complain about this unexpected but pleasant turn of events. A napping Charlie should mean that nothing and no one was lifted into the air against their will.

  Considering Charlie hadn’t spoken for so long that I’d been ready to give him a lot of special tests, that he now had a vocabulary far advanced for a child his age didn’t throw me all that much. Jamie had done similar as had most of the other hybrid children. It was just what happened when you had kids that were exceptional.

  Due to how we’d wandered through the ship, the flyboys—Matt Hughes, Chip Walker, Randy Muir, Joe Billings, and Jerry Tucker—were all near to me, Nathalie, and the kids. No one else was around—the various people had wandered off, some after Brian, some down other hallways, some elsewhere. The ship was big and I had to figure that everyone wanted to see what they could before being shooed off.

  “Don’t you wish you were coming with us, Commander,” Jerry, my favorite, asked softly with a wink.

  “I’ve done it. Space travel’s overrated.”

  We all chuckled, but those chuckles stopped.

  Because the ship lurched.

  CHAPTER 8

  “WAS THAT CHARLIE?” Hughes asked quietly, reading my mind.

  Checked on my son. He was still asleep. Wasn’t sure if I should wake him or not.

  “No idea. The ship should be a little bit more than he can handle.”

  Walker shook his head. “Kitty, he’s your kid. That means he can probably do anything.”

  “Aww, you’re so sweet. But I’m sure it wasn’t him.” Said as the ship lurched again. The first lurch had been to the right. This one was to the left.

  “Get to Brian,” I said to those around me. Could just see Jeff, Brian, and some others ahead of us, so we moved as quickly to them as we could.

  “What’s going on?” Jeff asked as we arrived and the ship stopped moving. Jeff took my hand and squeezed it gently.

  Brian shook his head. “No idea. We should be stationary.”

  Christopher appeared. “I saw the ship move and I just checked the scaffolding and launchpad area—nothing’s out of place and nothing’s moving.”

  “Strong winds?” Chee suggested.

  “Some winds,” Christopher admitted. “Nothing that seems strong enough, though. I’m not sure that anyone outside noticed the ship moving, by the way, so that might support the high winds theory.”

  “Settling,” Drax said firmly. “The ship is getting comfortable.”

  “Houses do that,” Joe said. He was married to Lorraine, one of my two best A-C girlfriends, and I saw him pass her a sign.

  “This isn’t a house,” Randy pointed out. He was married to Claudia, my other A-C bestie, and he sent her a sign, too.

  “And the ship’s had plenty of time to settle,” Jerry said. He was recently married to Abigail Gower-Tucker, the youngest Gower sibling even when the Michael and Naomi had been alive. Abigail was here, too, and I watched Jerry pass her a sign, as well.

  Lorraine and Claudia were Captains on Alpha Team and Abigail was one of the Embassy’s Cultural Attachés, and all three of them passed me a sign right back. Which basically indicated it might be a good time to go. “Let’s get everyone off, just to be sure,” I suggested quietly.

  “Let’s not be hasty for no reason,” Drax countered. Others, Chee included, nodded.

  We all waited. The ship didn’t move again. “Maybe Gustav is right,” Jeff said. “Or it’s winds like Daniel said.”

  “It would be politically preferable not to evacuate,” Raj added.

  No more lurching happened, so we all went back to the tour or wandering around, depending, and Christopher went back outside, having confirmed that he’d already toured the ship and found it nice but nothing he needed to spend a ton of time in.

  Charlie still seemed fast asleep. “Think it was him?” Jeff asked me quietly.

  “The flyboys asked, too. I don’t know.”

  Jeff grunted. “Let me hold him.”

  “Blocks up too high to tel
l without physical contact?” I asked as we moved Charlie from my shoulder onto Jeff’s.

  “New blocker being tested. I can feel whoever I’m touching, but not anyone else.”

  “Was that wise to test right now?”

  “I’ve been testing it for a couple of weeks. This was the big one, and we did need something where emotions would be real and running high. I can turn it off as needed and it’s not internal to me, baby, so don’t worry.”

  “Oh, not worried at all,” I lied. Apparently, Jeff wouldn’t be able to tell.

  “Liar.”

  “I thought you said you could only feel emotions via touch.”

  He grinned. “I read your face, baby.” He kissed my cheek. “We’ll be fine. Charlie’s just having a happy dream, talking to someone he likes very much.”

  “Who?”

  “No idea. I assume she’s imaginary. But he’s happy and contented and not trying to lift anything, so I think we want to let him sleep.”

  The larger group separated and reformed into smaller groups as we wandered more of the ship. Despite the prior lurching, nothing else seemed amiss, and it was fun to get to see more of what I’d only looked at on blueprints. Lizzie, Jamie, and Wasim asked to go look at other things, and since they were with Naveed, Gadhavi, and Mahin Sherazi, our other Cultural Attaché, it seemed safe enough, so we let them wander, Jamie now holding hands with Lizzie and Wasim, like their own little chaperone.

  This left me and Jeff with just our snoozing son, which meant we could actually look at whatever we wanted to. So we wandered some more, checking things out.

  The saucer was divided into five sections, like slices of pie, and this was the same for every deck. Each section on each deck had its own set of living quarters, mess halls, exercise areas, weapons storage, and more. Each section could be locked down from the others and each had its own backup power and water sources, so in case of trouble, up to and including invasion and contamination, the sections could survive separately. Heard, but didn’t see, the Joint Chiefs discussing this with my parents. Everyone seemed quite pro this setup.

 

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