Alien Collective

by Gini Koch

Christopher was more than a little bitter about all this, especially when Raj shared that he was considered the next likely to blow it right after me, which was why we both were staying in the Embassy until the last possible moment. Considering the K-9 squad was with our delegation, too, dogs and all, it was kind of a big slap to the old ego.

  This left only a few of us actually in the Embassy most of the day. Walter, of course, Pierre, Irving, Tito, Nurse Carter, Mahin, Denise and the daycare kids, Christopher, and me. Mahin, like Christopher, was bitter about not getting to go, but Irving was all for having Doreen handle this and had thanked everyone for letting him stay home. Denise, like Irving, was thrilled to be “forced” to stay home to care for kidlets, and Tito and Nurse Carter both said they appreciated having a few days of down time.

  Serene requested to stay in the Embassy, partly to keep an eye on Christopher and me, and partly to see what we could spot on TV. Hacker International had brought in extra screens, meaning we almost had a Mini Command Center in the computer lab, so we all hung out with them, Chernobog, and the dozen random A-Cs assigned to guard duty at whatever time.

  We watched the first three days’ worth of coverage like we were C-SPAN junkies. We spotted nothing untoward—none of Ronnie’s Kids, none of our assassins, none of our other enemies. And while Club 51, the Church of Hate and Intolerance, and a host of other anti-alien groups were protesting the convention, the National Guard was out in force and they were kept away from the convention and the delegates.

  Our delegation was getting a lot of airtime, in part because Jeff was the vice presidential candidate and in part because they were so damned photogenic. If I had been running the cameras, I’d have focused on all the beautiful people, too. The good side of this was that we could keep an eye on pretty much everyone we cared about. The bad side was that we weren’t getting all the coverage we could hope for, meaning that while we hadn’t spotted anyone evil, that didn’t mean they weren’t there.

  Somehow the entire place seemed covered with posters of Armstrong and Jeff. Had no idea when they’d taken the picture of Jeff they were using, but he looked amazing—serious, authoritative, but accessible, with his arms crossed over his chest, gazing straight at you. Bottom line, he looked gorgeous. Figured we probably had the straight female and gay male votes locked up.

  Our massive team went over early each morning, stayed until late at night, and came back safe and sound. This should have made me happy and calm. Instead, it stressed me out.

  “Why are you so tense?” Jeff asked through yawns, as he staggered into our bedroom after another eighteen hours at the convention.

  “Just wondering why nothing’s happened yet.”

  “Maybe they’re actually going to leave us alone.”

  “Maybe.”

  “You’ll be great tomorrow, baby.”

  “Yeah? I hope so.” I snuggled next to him. He pulled me close, kissed my forehead, and went right to sleep. Another reason to hate politics—it was making my husband so tired he wasn’t up to having sex. For the third night in a row. And I, of course, was wide awake and nervous.

  Jeff needed the sleep, and so did everyone else I’d want to talk to in order to calm my nerves. Tried to sleep, but I was too jittery. Got up and went into the closet. Sat on the floor near the hamper. “I can’t sleep.”

  Algar appeared, sitting cross-legged on the hamper. “I noticed. Would you like a cup of cocoa?”

  “Not really. You told me Jeff was the target, and yet, he’s been reasonably safe.”

  “Is that all that’s bothering you?”

  “No. Jamie told me that her Poof kept the ‘things’ away. I think she meant Sandy the superconsciousness and maybe some of his friends or relations. But for all I know she didn’t.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Yeah. I’m worried I’m going to blow it tomorrow in some way.”

  “What matters more—you coming off as politically perfect, or protecting your husband and other innocent people?”

  “Gosh, let me think. The latter. Protecting Jeff and others.”

  Algar hopped down from the hamper and patted my cheek. “Then you’re all ready for tomorrow. And everything else you’ve been waiting for.”

  And with that, he snapped his fingers, and I was back in bed with Jeff, as if I’d never left it.

  “Very funny,” I grumbled quietly.

  “Hmmm?” Jeff said. He pulled me closer. “You awake?”

  “Sorta. Worried about tomorrow and having trouble falling asleep.”

  He pulled me on top of him. “Then let me help you out with that, baby.” He pulled my head down and kissed me, and all my stress floated away, along with our nightclothes.

  Short and sweet for Jeff was still fantastic for me. He stayed on his back and I straddled him, enjoying the slow, sensuous way his hips bucked while his hands fondled my breasts, slid over my stomach, stroked me everywhere.

  He flipped me over the edge and kept on, still bucking slowly while his fingertips traced my neck, nipples, and back. As I got closer to the edge again, he sped up and pulled me down, so that my breasts rubbed against his chest and his lips were on mine.

  Still kissing me, Jeff slid his hands to my butt, and squeezed gently while shoving me down against him just enough that my lower body went wild. He moved his mouth to my neck, bit me gently, and I climaxed hard, while he exploded inside me.

  As our bodies slowed, I stayed draped over him as he pulled the covers back up and over us. I snuggled my face into his neck. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too, baby. Get some sleep now. Tomorrow’s going to be a busy day.”

  “Busy’s fine. It’s dangerous I’m worried about.”

  Jeff chuckled. “No worries. It’ll be routine.” He nuzzled my head. “But if you need me to help you relax some more, just say the word.”

  “The word.”

  He laughed. “I see.”

  “Hey, you just took two nights off. I have needs. But I know you’re exhausted and need the sleep.”

  Jeff rolled us over so he was on top of me. “I’m never too exhausted to make you happy, baby.”

  “Well then, rest assured—you have my vote.”

  CHAPTER 87

  AFTER MORE GREAT SEX, we fell asleep wrapped around each other. The sounds of Oingo Boingo’s “The Winning Side” woke us up far too early. Sun-just-coming-up too early. However, duty called—it was time to test-drive iced sky blue as “my color.” Could not, literally, wait.

  Had a fast shower wherein we didn’t even have time for sex, bitterly got dressed, and had a quick but nice breakfast with Jamie as Dad, Lucinda, and Alfred came over to watch her.

  Normally, we’d have brought her, and our parents, and any other family members we could, to the convention, so we could all shake as many paws as possible and smile like crazed hyenas. Under the circumstances, Jeff had put his foot down as hard as possible and Jamie and everyone else who wasn’t me, Jeff, or Mom was staying home.

  “You’re going to be great today, Kitty,” Alfred said with a twinkle. Jeff was a slightly taller, slightly buffer version of his father, complete with the charm and sense of humor.

  “I hope so.”

  “You will be,” Lucinda said with utter confidence as she kissed my cheek and took her eager granddaughter out of my arms. “You look so poised, beautiful, and professional. The other women will be jealous.”

  “Love you for saying that. And look at how well you managed to lie, too.”

  She chuckled. “Trust me, you look perfect for today.”

  Dad hugged me. “They’re right, kitten. Just do your best and remember—when it comes down to it, you’re your mother’s daughter.” He kissed my forehead. “And you’re mine, too. We’re both so proud of you. Take a deep breath, and just let things happen as they will.”

  Hugged him and the others. “Thanks. I’m just hoping we survive the event.”

  Jamie handed her Poof to me again. “You need to take Mous-Mous, Mo
mmy.”

  Considered arguing, but what could it possibly hurt? And Jamie had felt so certain her Poof had helped the other day, why not humor her again? “Sure, Jamie-Kat. Thank you. Mous-Mous can tell you all about the convention.”

  She nodded. “Yes. Be yourself, Mommy.”

  Kissed her head. “I will. You and Fairy Godfather ACE can be sure of that.”

  Jeff hugged everyone, while they told him how awesome he was and how he shouldn’t be nervous at all, and other parental rah-rah things. Then he kissed Jamie, took my hand, and we left.

  As we walked to the elevators, I looked around. “Bruno my bird, what’s the avian word?”

  Bruno appeared beside us. He squawked, bobbed his head, flapped his wings, and scratched the carpet.

  “What’s he saying?” Jeff asked, in the tone of voice of a man who hopes no voters learn of his real home life.

  “The Peregrines are sticking around the Embassy. They’re worried that the kids are too exposed with the rest of us going over today. They also want to keep an eye on Chernobog, just in case. Bruno’s worried about us going over without him, but says he’s briefed the K-9 dogs and feels that they’ll make reasonable stand-ins and a good Poof Support Team.”

  “So how many Poofs are going?”

  Bruno squawked and clawed the ground several times. “Huh. Most of them. There are about three Poofs to a person in the Embassy and Zoo, all the attached Poofs are with their people, and the rest of the unattached Poofs will be with us.”

  “Oh. Good.” He didn’t sound like he thought it was all that good, but I chose to ignore it.

  Gave Bruno a scritchy-scratch between his wings, and then we headed downstairs to the ballroom so Jeff and I could have our hair done and I could sit through makeup.

  Pierre was in charge of doing all the hair and makeup for our delegation, and while he’d assigned some of Team Troubadour to assist with this, he insisted on doing me and Jeff himself, which was great with me.

  Other than my wedding, I’d never really bothered with this elaborate process, but Raj had insisted and everyone had backed him up. So even the men were being carefully coiffed and groomed. The less said about the number of Patented Glares Christopher was shooting around while he was getting styled the better, but as Serene gently pointed out, everyone had looked great on TV, so it was time to man up and accept that hairspray was going to be used.

  Finally, Pierre and his team had us all looking nothing short of fabulous. I’d been sprayed with the Dove Extra Hold hairspray so near and dear to my and Pierre’s hearts. He’d also sprayed me and some of the others with some sort of makeup hairspray thing that he insisted Hollywood types used all the time. And those riding with the K-9 dogs were all issued lint brushes and rollers. Thusly prepped, we all headed to the underground garage.

  We literally had a fleet of limos taking our delegation over and back. Saw Burton Falk and the other guys on his team, so felt like Buchanan was watching us somehow, which made me feel a little better. I’d gotten used to knowing that he was out there, and it was unsettling now that he wasn’t.

  Serene was going along today, and Christopher had taken pity on Mahin and insisted that if we got to go over finally, she got to go with us. Tito was also coming along, mostly because he said he was getting cabin fever, and Nurse Carter was in the Embassy to handle any medical emergencies.

  Found out why I was denied green as “my color”—Amy was in an all-green ensemble and I realized she’d been in green every day of the convention. Chose not to be bitter. If one of your besties claims a color you wanted, you move on to other colors, that was my motto.

  Jeff and I were in a limo with Gower, Reader, Raj, Officer Melville, and Prince, with Len and Kyle driving. D.C.P.D. had the protestors cleared back so we could get out of our garage and onto the highway without a lot of issues.

  Kyle, proving why I loved him, immediately put on music. As the soothing sounds of Green Day’s “Wake Me Up When September Ends” hit my personal airwaves, the others ran through what I should be expecting. Well, other than Melville, who was literally looking everywhere as we drove, and Prince, who felt my only worries should be if I was petting him enough.

  Fittingly, “Good Days Bad Days” by the Kaiser Chiefs came on. Because, basically, today was a lot like the other days. Minor dudes and dudettes getting to have their say, finalization of the party platform, which happily covered a lot of alien rights, marriage equality, immigration, a strong economic plan, and an even stronger defense plan that didn’t involve turning Centaurion into the War Division. Those of us kibitzing in front of the TV for the past three days had approved the party platform.

  “Jeff doesn’t really get voted on,” Raj said by way of summation, as “You Can Do It” by No Doubt started. “These days it’s just assumed that whoever the presidential nominee wants is who he or she gets. But the VP decision affects the nomination process.”

  “Yeah, after three intensive days in front of the TV, I actually think I know this stuff. The state’s roll call was supposed to be yesterday evening, but they’ve moved it to today because media coverage has been so good.”

  “Yes. It’s the first thing going on. Expect to glad-hand a lot when we first get there, but Vincent has the bigger role here,” Raj said.

  “Don’s doing the keynote,” Jeff reminded me. “Then it’s acceptance speeches. The order is going to be me, you, Elaine, then Vince.”

  “I get why Elaine’s speaking, she’ll be the First Lady. But why do they want to hear from me?”

  “It’s not unusual for the wife of the VP candidate to speak,” Raj said.

  “They want to hear what you’re going to say,” Reader added. “We’ve held you back for a reason, Kitty.”

  “To keep me from blowing it, I know.”

  He shook his head. “No. You’re considered our loose cannon, yeah, but everyone’s heard the eulogy you did for Michael, and everyone knows that was done on the fly.” Fittingly, “Crazy Days” by Adam Gregory came on.

  “Well, sane people know that,” Gower said dryly. “The crazy ones insist I planned to break down and have to be led away so you could amaze everyone with your oration skills.”

  “Let’s focus on the sane people. Why do they want to hear me?”

  “Because you gave an incredible speech, girlfriend. And there’s a lot of anticipation about what you’ll say today.”

  “Is the nomination in the bag?”

  “Pretty much, yeah,” Jeff said. “Vince is the clear party frontrunner.”

  “And they’re thrilled Jeff’s on the ticket,” Reader added. “Not that he’ll tell you himself. But he’s helped the ticket a lot.” He shot me the cover boy grin. “And you getting Jenkins under control has helped even more. The Tastemaker’s column yesterday was very good for us.”

  “Haven’t read a thing, we’ve been too busy watching you guys on TV. What did it say?”

  “Aliens good, those who oppose them bad.” Gower grinned. “Nice work, Ambassador.”

  “It’s a gift.” Tried not to be nervous. I’d been a lot more relaxed when I’d thought everyone was worried about me blowing it. Now that I knew they had positive expectations, the pressure got that much higher. Wondered how fast I’d forget all the speeches that had been drilled into me.

  Raj sighed. “I wish you’d done what I told you and not mentioned that to her. She’s nervous now, and she wasn’t before.”

  “Sorry.” Reader took my hand in his. “Kitty, you’re going to be great, whether you remember all the speeches Raj wrote for you or not. You’re the best we have at winging it. It’ll all work out.”

  “I’m more worried about being attacked.” Whoops. Hadn’t meant to blurt that out. Maybe it was because Agent Orange’s “Too Young To Die” had just hit our airwaves.

  “Security is the best I’ve ever seen,” Melville said.

  Prince barked. At me. “Yeah? Thanks.”

  “What did he say?” Jeff asked for everyone.


  “Prince would like to stay with me. As in, with me, the entire time. He feels he’ll keep me calmer and safer if he’s right there by my side. And I don’t think he’s wrong.”

  “Say he’s her emotional assistance dog,” Reader said. “And it’ll fly without issue.”

  “And give our enemies some fantastic ammunition,” Raj said, sarcasm knob heading toward eleven.

  Melville shrugged. “I’m assigned to the Ambassador and congressman anyway. That won’t be an issue.” Prince whined. Melville petted his head. “Yes, you can stay with her, you traitor.” Prince flung himself against Melville to share that he still loved Melville best. Just barely, but still, best.

  “Just for the record and officially, Prince is my favorite.”

  Jeff sighed. “Beaten out by a dog. Such is my life.”

  CHAPTER 88

  AS “TAKE ON ME” from A-Ha came on, we arrived. To see a massive number of protestors encircling the convention center, held back by the National Guard. Well, nice to make an entrance.

  There wasn’t parking at the convention center itself, but it was near the Inner Harbor, meaning there were plenty of parking lots nearby. So the limos were letting our delegation out, then parking as a group. Field agents under Falk’s command would guard our fleet. Our drivers who were an active part of our delegation, like Len, Kyle, and the flyboys, would then come back to the convention center as a group, ensuring that none of them walked anywhere alone, important due to everything going on, but more important because of the protestors.

  Chose to ignore the many shrieks, catcalls, and insults coming as soon as our limo doors opened. Why grace the Loon Patrol with a response?

  Proving that the security inside wasn’t all I’d hoped it would be, though, we were ushered in via the Candidates’ Entrance, and we weren’t searched at all. This was good, because I’d insisted on taking my regular purse with me, and I had my Glock and several clips in it. Sure, I’d forgotten they were there until we walked in, and also sure, it was nice not to have my weapon taken away, but if I could bring in a Glock, what could someone else bring in?