Alien Collective

by Gini Koch

  “None of your people would care that you killed me. You would be considered heroic. However, killing my counterpart, Yates, that will create problems. And all the other humans you’ve had to kill over these past years as well.”

  “Yeah, exactly. We also need to find all of Ronnie’s Kids, as well as figure out what all our other enemies are planning. But that’s business as usual for us.”

  “Why do you care about finding Yates’ offspring?”

  “They’re all hella powerful in some way. Well, most of them. Depends on their mothers, really. And we’re pretty sure there are a lot of them. We need to see if we can get any of them onto the side of good. We were able to flip Mahin. And for all I know, we may flip Nightcrawler, too. Or at least keep him in the neutral zone. But there are others, and if we can find them, we have a hope of showing them the right path, sort of thing.”

  “They are not powerful because of me.”

  “You’re sure? You combining with him didn’t alter his genetics?”

  “It did. But his genes, his power, is what was passed on, not mine.”

  “That doesn’t sound possible.”

  Received the “really?” look. Nice to know even the big fugly monster could shoot that one on me. “Many things that are real don’t seem possible to small minds. No offence meant.”

  “Oh, none freaking taken. I don’t get it, and you can break down and explain for my tiny mind.”

  “Touchy. My powers cannot be passed along in the way all of you reproduce. In order to share myself, I must become a part of you.”

  “So, you ‘are’ the parasite? All the rest is just your . . . window dressing?”

  “Yes, in essence. In the same way that you are not the bag of skin and bones you present, but instead infuse the skin and bones with your essence.”

  The parasites were their souls. I’d pretty much always figured this, but it was sort of sad to know that we’d destroyed Mephistopheles’ people completely.

  He seemed to know what I was thinking and shook his head. “Death is not the end. It is also not what we are discussing. We are discussing life.”

  “True enough. But if you combined and altered Yates, I don’t see how that doesn’t alter him all the way around.”

  “Possibly because our genetics cannot pass along in the way yours do and his did. I could not have mated with you as you did with your husband, or as Yates did with many women. We do not reproduce in the same way. By successfully combining with him, I altered Yates, but I could not alter the genetics he would pass along. Think of me as being a separate, yet fully integrated, part. When he mated I was not with him, in that sense. I was there, in my dormant state. But I was not mingled. We only combine when we are in our natural forms.”

  “By natural you mean the forms like this one, what you were on your home world?”

  “Yes. So the power would come from him. In these instances.”

  “That makes sense I guess. Richard and Lucinda have no powers, but that just means their mother was a weak link. Gladys was incredibly powerful, and she was born well before Yates was exiled to Earth. He was what we call a sport, in our form of genetics. Is that why Tito can’t make more progress on the Yates Gene Research he’s been doing? And why our enemies haven’t, either, at least to our knowledge?”

  “Yes. Yates’ genes were exceptional. It was why he and I could combine and survive.” He eyed me. “Yates was not the only one with exceptional genes.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure Jeff and Christopher are loaded with exceptional. Nightcrawler, too, or he’d be dead.”

  “More than them. But you should focus on the most urgent problem. Is finding these offspring the most urgent?”

  “No, I guess not. At least my mom doesn’t think so. I guess the biggest problem, really, is the superconsciousness from the Eagle Nebula, named Sloshy.”

  “Named that by you?”

  “How’d you guess?”

  “It rings of you. And I assume ‘Nightcrawler’ has another name. I doubt his mother gave him that one.”

  “Wow, even dead beings of my nightmares have sarcasm knobs. I’m just that kind of lucky. Nightcrawler is Benjamin, the son of Yates and Madeleine Cartwright, when she was still Siler. Why are you here, really? Just missed having someone to be sarcastic at?”

  He rolled his eyes. It was icky. Shocker. “These are your questions?”

  “Blah, blah, blah. It’s not like I was prepared to see you, you know. We weren’t prepared for any of this.”

  “Yes. And that is a problem. By now, vigilance should be your watchword.”

  “You know, it’s funny, it is. And yet, since we don’t have insights into our enemies’ many plans and schemes, nor do we possess a bunch of telepaths, we’re constantly surprised. Just keeps life interesting. Anyway, how do we get rid of Sloshy, without him/her/it taking ACE away? And without hurting my daughter? And the various consciousnesses ACE has joined in over the years?”

  “Why does it matter if ACE leaves your world?”

  “Aside from the fact that ACE protects us and he’s residing inside my daughter? I promised him I’d protect him. I can’t do that if I allow something to take him away against his will. I’m sure you don’t need to ask me why I don’t want my daughter hurt in any way. Or why I don’t want to lose those who ACE joined in, either.”

  “No, I understand. You challenged the entity.” A statement, not a question.

  “Yeah, I did. Someone you know seems to think it was a great plan. No one else does.”

  Mephistopheles mouth moved in a way that, charitably, might be called a smile. “You are good at that. You challenge those who are far stronger and more powerful than you are.” He reached out. Managed not to cringe—it was a dream, meaning he couldn’t actually hurt me.

  And he didn’t. He, like Algar before him, patted my head. Gently. “You protect the weak and helpless, but you also protect the protectors. We have a name for that, where I come from. It isn’t pronounceable in your language. And it doesn’t translate well, either, beyond what I’ve just said. But it is a name of great honor.”

  “Was it a name you had, before you lost it and killed everyone?”

  He nodded and stood up. “It was. Sometimes I . . . miss that name. I have to go.”

  “I don’t get to know the name or the word or whatever?”

  “No.”

  “And you’re leaving? I don’t know what to do. Or what’s going on. Or anything, really, including why I bothered to nap.”

  He shrugged. “Perhaps it will make sense to you once you wake up. Or not. That’s not my problem.” He turned to go.

  “Hey, do you happen to know who your Apprentice’s Apprentice would be?”

  Mephistopheles turned back and cocked his head. “No. That was something Yates did. I did not . . . pay attention to it.”

  “Now I know you’re lying. You were intimately involved in all that Mastermind and Apprentice crap.”

  “No. I had my own plans of conquest, and he had his. At the start, they did not intersect. As he aged, and his illness spread, I was able to take more control. His plans for his children were not aligned with mine. And mine were the only plans I cared about. His plans were small. I would have conquered the world. But for you.”

  “Yeah, I get that a lot. So you don’t know who his Apprentice was?”

  “It was who you think—Leventhal Reid.”

  “Who was Reid grooming as his ultimate Apprentice, any idea?”

  Mephistopheles nodded. “The one you are not suspecting.” Then he gave me another shot of what passed for his smile and faded away.

  CHAPTER 29

  WOKE UP AS “PUMPED UP KICKS” started playing. Either I’d slept through the entire Torches album and it was going around again, or ACE, Algar, or, somehow, Mephistopheles had ensured that I got all the information I needed in less than one song. Based on the way things were going, bet on the latter.

  Not that I felt I’d gotten much in the way of actua
l information. But perhaps the secret meanings would become clear to me somewhere along the line.

  Sat up and looked around. Sure, it had been less than five minutes, but now, I wasn’t in the room with just the two Poofs. What looked like every animal we had and then some were in here, too. Including my least favorite avian in the galaxy.

  “Kitty! Kitty! Kitty!” Sure enough, Bellie, the Parrot O’ Love, was also with us. Well, at least she sounded happy to see me, as opposed to ready to kill me. Put that one into the win column, in part because there was just so little in the win column right now.

  “Seriously? You’re all here? Bellie, too? Why isn’t Bellie with Mister?”

  “Mister says Bellie has to be safe! Bellie loves Mister! Bellie loves Jeff!”

  “Yeah, I know.” Jeff was, sadly, going to be overjoyed that this bird was with us. So much for all those happy thoughts of sexy times. I was never having sex with Bellie in the room, or even within hearing distance. Figured if Bellie could imitate me during sex, Jeff might seriously leave me for her.

  Wondered if Oliver had sent Bellie down here to ensure that Siler didn’t see her. Sure, he hadn’t been privy to our conversations, but Oliver had his ways.

  Of course, according to everyone else, so did the Tastemaker. Wondered when Jenkins would call me again, then knew it would be soon, and when it was just totally inconvenient. Readied myself for his call to come in at any minute.

  Of course, if the animals were in here right when Algar put me here, I had to figure he’d sent or put the animals in here, too. So, maybe it was time to stop being Megalomaniac Girl or The Dream Chatter and switch back to Dr. Doolittle.

  “Everyone, Kitty would like a word.”

  “Word! Word! Word!”

  “Yes, thanks Bellie. I think we’re called to order now.”

  “Called to order! Called to order!”

  “Bellie? Shut it or become dinner. You choose.”

  Had to give her this, Bellie was one damned smart parrot. She shut up.

  “Good job. Now, speaking of jobs, Kitty has the teensiest feeling that some of you were either not doing your jobs, or were doing jobs that someone else, mainly He Who Is Supposedly Too Awesome To Be Named, has given you. Who’s going to fess up first?”

  Lots of shots of the Sea of Animal Innocence look, even from the K-9 dogs. No one offered any answers, and they were all doing the thing where I couldn’t figure out what they were thinking.

  Gave up. “Bellie, back to you as Spokesbird. Tell me both what I want and what I need to know.”

  “Vance! Vance! Bellie loves Vance!”

  “This is your big reveal?”

  “Hey, Kitty, you in here?” Vance called from the entryway.

  “Aha. Okay, Bellie, all is, sort of, forgiven. Back here!” I shouted.

  Vance picked his way through all the many pets. Bellie flew to him, squawking happily. She settled on his forearm, the better for his other hand to be able to stroke her head. “Wow, are you running a grooming business on the side?”

  “Hilarious. Take the parrot with you when you go. But before you go, what’s up?”

  He shrugged and sat on the side of the bed. “Everyone’s doing officially important things. However, since I’m not Mossad or a political bigwig, I couldn’t go along on one of the guided tours. Meaning I could help babysit the kids, or find you and go over theories. Chose you. Be flattered.”

  “Totally am.” Sort of. Though honesty forced me to admit that on at least two occasions Vance had called what was going on correctly, and in a big way. Perhaps he could do so now. “What do you think is going on?”

  “You mean that I know about and can comprehend?”

  “What else could I mean?”

  “There are things going on I don’t know about. You could catch me up to speed on them, and then I could give you theories.”

  “Nice try. Why don’t you give me your theories for what you know about? You may know more than I do, after all.”

  “About the Tastemaker, yes, I obviously do. But he may not be your only problem.”

  “He’s a problem I’m not prepared to handle. So, let’s tackle him first.”

  “I would but he’s straight. And, frankly, the pickings in and around your diplomatic mission are always of a finer quality.”

  “We’re flattered. Sort of. Okay, so Bruce Jenkins is straight. Lots of people are. So what?”

  Vance sighed. “If you want to know how to defend against someone, it helps if you know how they tick. He’s straight, unmarried, not dating anyone seriously, no children, no pets. And while he could go after anyone in town, he picks his targets carefully.”

  “Why is he so powerful and yet Mister Joel Oliver had to have an alien invasion happen to get a modicum of respect?”

  “As you were told earlier, it’s because Jenkins deals with salacious gossip.”

  “So, when Esteban Cantu was trying to blackmail me, and Senator Armstrong, with dirty pictures of me and Chuckie and then me and the good Senator, why were those sent to MJO instead of Jenkins?”

  Vance looked thoughtful. “You want my gut feeling?”

  “Sure. I go with my gut all the time.”

  “Yeah, I know. I’ve climbed around on the rooftops with you, if you’d care to remember. I still have nightmares about that.”

  “Did you come to whine or are you going to share your gut’s thoughts on my question?”

  “Oh, fine. I think the pictures were sent to the World Weekly News because it was presumed they’d print them. In addition to everything else, it would have driven a wedge between you and Mister Joel Oliver, and even more so between him and Mister Reynolds. Plus, why get Jenkins involved if we were going to be bowing to our new alien overlords within a few days anyway?”

  “Yeah, I can buy that one. So, why sic him on me now? Why not earlier? Why at all? But mostly, why now? We’re clearly in the midst of another attack from one or more of our enemies, but that happens regularly. So why did Bruce Jenkins call me today?”

  “When probably matters, too. He called you after the bombs had gone off.”

  “Meaning after our embassy had been gassed. I need to ask Nightcrawler about that.”

  “I’m not even going to ask who the hell that is. One weird thing going on around you at a time.”

  “If it was only one thing. So, back to the big question—why sic Bruce Jenkins on me at all, let alone right now?”

  “It seems obvious.”

  “Not to me.”

  Vance sighed again. “Two reasons. The first is even more obvious than the second, so let me share that one. Listen, I’ll speak slowly.”

  “I’m pretending to listen but actually ignoring you.”

  “Trust me, it seems that way. Frequently. But reason number one is that your husband was just announced as the most likely vice presidential candidate. Jenkins called within minutes, possibly within seconds, of that being mentioned on the news.”

  “Oh. Yeah. I knew that. Right. Okay, I’ll give you the ‘duh’ on that one.” Maybe I should have really tried to actually nap. I was slipping, because I’d made this assumption earlier and had, literally, forgotten. Sloshy had sort of thrown off my groove.

  “Especially since Jenkins ran off Vincent’s last two most promising running mates. The wrong VP candidate can destroy a ticket, but Jenkins has been getting rid of people who would have made good leaders for the country.”

  “He hasn’t gone after Senator Armstrong?”

  “He’s tried, but it’s easier to screw up the VP candidate. Seems less like campaign interference.”

  “I suppose, and before you whine, I’ll trust that you know this landscape a lot better than I do. So, what’s behind Door Number Two?”

  “Again, this seems obvious. He called when he called because Bruce Jenkins is on your enemies’ payroll, and nothing distracts a person like being hounded by the Tastemaker.”

  CHAPTER 30

  “YOU THINK THEY WANT Jeff distracted
?”

  Vance rolled his eyes. “I don’t play stupid with the people who actually know I’m not a moron. You can return the favor and stop playing stupid with me when we’re alone. I thought you trusted me.”

  “I do.” Somewhat. Well, all things considered, more than a lot of people. “And, dude, I’m not intentionally playing stupid. I’m just sort of overwhelmed right now.”

  “Yeah, and that’s what I meant. They haven’t sent Jenkins after your husband as much as they’ve sent him after you. You’re the one they want distracted. And before you try to pooh-pooh that idea, I’ve seen you in action enough now that it’s clear that you’ve got to be high up on your enemies’ hit list. In fact, my guess is that you’re their number one target.”

  This was true, but something I didn’t think any of us had ever mentioned in front of Vance. Might not be remembering it—the way the day had gone and these last few minutes had proved, we might have said it in front of him an hour ago and I just didn’t recall—but if we hadn’t, he’d made this leap correctly by merely looking at things mostly from the outside. Hopefully he’d made other leaps that were correct and could help.

  “Okay, so I ignore Jenkins and that solves that problem, right?” I asked with probably far too much hopefulness.

  Sure enough, Vance gave me a look that could only be described as snide. “Oh, of course. Because that will solve everything and insure that Bruce Jenkins instantly loses interest and stops sniffing around. Totally going to happen. Let’s just go shopping and not worry about anything, problem’s completely solved.”

  “Wow. I think that, on a scale of ten, your sarcasm knob was turned to about twenty.”

  “Good. Means I’m getting through. No, you can’t ignore Jenkins. Sorry. You have to deal with him.”

  “If only I knew how. You know, I didn’t actually see this one coming, God alone knows why.”