Alien Nation

by Gini Koch

  With that, he did exactly what he’d described. We had a long rope that was tied off around the base of the geometric covering thing. We had another, longer rope that was hooked through the slats on top of the covering, so that we could hold onto one end of the rope in each hand.

  The idea was that we were using the hooked rope to get through the hole, and then would transfer and hold onto the stationary rope to get the rest of the way down. The four of us crowded on each side of the hole so we could watch Siler. The lighting on the tower was good, the lights aimed upwards, so we could see him pretty clearly. Naturally, he did this as if he was born to it.

  Next we tied the rolling purse to the stationary rope and sent that down. Siler tugged that rope when he had the bag, and now it was the next person’s turn. We sent Abigail next, because White and I could help her through the hole. “I think I hate you guys,” she said as her head made it through the opening and my music switched to “Highwire” by the Gin Blossoms. Clearly Algar was enjoying himself.

  Abigail didn’t have all that much trouble, though. White held one of her wrists while she let go and wrapped the stationary rope around her hand like Siler had told her to. She nodded, White let go slowly, she grabbed the rope with her other hand, and she walked her way down to Siler. Looked easy peasey.

  Mahin was next, mostly because it was going to take both of us to get her to do this in the first place and, again, we could help her. She was muttering in Farsi, and I realized that I could understand it now that I knew I could. “I didn’t think you knew those words.”

  “I know those words and more and, right now, they’re all for you. Everyone had better be alive and well but in mortal peril we’re actually able to save them from, is all I can say.”

  Her head through, White did the same for her as he had for Abigail. Mahin took longer to grab the stationary rope, but grab it she finally did. She went down about halfway, then her foot slipped. She smacked into the glass but held on. Couldn’t hear him, but could see Siler shouting to her. Mahin let herself slide a little, and Siler was able to catch her and get her onto the rig. Looked less easy peasey, but still, doable.

  I and my purse were up next. White had suggested I send it down with the rolling purse, but I just felt safer with it around my neck. I was used to working this way, after all.

  The purse did make it a little harder to get through the opening, but avoiding getting cut was a lot harder than it had looked. White holding onto me was a big help. “This is going to suck for you, Mister White.”

  “I’ll be fine, Missus Martini, never fear.”

  Felt wind on my lower body, but chose not to focus on it and, instead, ensured that the balls of my feet were on the glass like Siler wanted. I was having a lot of issues managing this, with me doing The Bicycle more than actually getting my feet to stick, but I finally got kind of in the right position.

  Once my head was through, I really noticed the wind. It wasn’t pleasant. However, I had to let go of the one rope and grab the stationary rope. Let go and grabbed. And missed. Grabbed again. Missed again. Grabbed a third time and managed to get the rope in my hand. Wrapped it like Siler had shown, and nodded to White, who let go of my other hand.

  Started to fall immediately. Because, as it turned out, I’d grabbed the rope I’d been holding originally, the one made to slide, not the stationary rope.

  CHAPTER 75

  I FLIPPED OVER almost immediately. Tucked my head so when my back slammed into the glass, the back of my head did not. One small favor.

  The rope stopped moving. Due to the way I was hanging I could see that White had stepped on it. So, as long as he didn’t move, I was good. This moment’s definition of damning with faint praise.

  I was now upside-down, with my purse trying to strangle me because of course it had slipped over my arm and now was only holding on because my chin was acting like a ledge. But not for long. Gravity was a bitch, we were rarely on close terms, and she was all about reminding me that my lower half was heavier than my upper half. My body slid around. Now I was right side up and about to have my right arm wrenched out of the socket, though my purse was now longer trying to fall off. No, now it was just hanging around my neck like the heaviest albatross necklace in the world. My music changed to “Hold On” by Smash Mouth. If only I could.

  My wrist was wrapped up in the rope, which was good, because my fingers couldn’t stay closed since the rope was cutting off circulation. I could feel the stationary rope—I was lying on it, meaning it was at my back. And of course, it was more on my right side than my left, meaning I was going to have to twist to grab it. Somehow.

  I was too far up to let go willingly and not expect that I’d cause the entire rig to go down when I hit. However, as my wrist started to slide slowly through the rope, realized I didn’t have a choice.

  Someone’s feet were right by my head. White was coming down like he’d spent his entire life vacationing in the Alps. He had hold of both sides of the sliding rope. He got relatively even with me. “Hang on, Missus Martini. This is going to take split-second timing.”

  “I have no choice other than to hang, Mister White. I also have no control over when the rope loosens enough and I plummet to my and everyone else’s death, but I give it no more than three seconds.” Realized that the only reason the rope was still holding me up was because White was keeping it taut enough that I couldn’t slip. Yet.

  White didn’t comment. Instead he let go of the sliding rope with his left hand, grabbed the stationary rope, let go with his right hand, and wrapped his right arm around me just as the rope loosened enough on my wrist that my arm fell down. Then we were sliding down the window, but White was controlling it, not gravity. Hyperspeed and White’s über awesomeness for the win.

  Saw him make the Grimace Face when he managed to stop us before we smashed into the rig. Siler grabbed me and put me down at hyperspeed, then grabbed White, while Abigail and Mahin grabbed me.

  “Well, that was bracing,” White said once we were all together.

  “You continue to rock above all others, Mister White.” Made sure my shoulder, elbow, and wrist were still in their respective sockets, while White did the same. Moved my purse back into its proper cross-body position as I checked inside. Everything, snoozing Poofs included, was in there just as if nothing had happened. Clearly riding via an Algar Portal was the way to go. Filed requesting a Personal Portal Pod on my To-Do List for later.

  “Of all your plans, I hate this one the most,” Mahin said.

  “Give it time. I’m sure we’ll do something much worse sooner than anyone would like.”

  “Hold on to the railings,” Siler said, as he went to the control box. We started down, the window washing rig shaking all the way because that’s how it had to be in my world, apparently, my soundtrack now going to “Shake, Rattle, and Roll” by Huey Lewis and the News.

  The windows on the Sky Lobby level, and probably all the levels that weren’t observation decks, were mirrored on the outside, so everyone inside didn’t broil daily. Therefore, it was close to impossible to see inside. Did my best, but all I got was that there weren’t people clustered around the window, so either no one had noticed our acrobatics or there were no people on this floor in this area.

  The wind was really unpleasant as we went down. Wasn’t sure if it was because we were so high up or because of the haboob Lowe had created or both. Decided it didn’t matter. Was glad I still had my hair up in the banana clip. The clip was a trooper, too, considering everything it had been through with me today.

  Reached the next floor down. The restaurant did indeed have the same mirroring, so we couldn’t see in. Siler stopped us so that, once we cut the glass, anyone could safely step out onto the rig, to use the term “safely” loosely.

  “Bigger cut now,” he said. “Gas masks on first, though.”

  So much for the banana clip. And our goggles. Whi
ch I realized hadn’t shown us anything once we got here. “Kozlow is definitely in the building.” Took off the banana clip and my goggles and dropped both into my purse. “We may be going into poisoned gas,” I whispered to the Poofs. “Take precautions and all that.”

  “How do you know?” Abigail asked.

  “Our goggles aren’t showing us anything. I don’t even have infrared. Someone’s affecting them in some way. I assume it’s Kozlow using his power, such as it is.”

  “Then it’s amplified by something,” Mahin said. “Because Russell’s powers are not strong at all.”

  “It didn’t affect our communications,” Abigail pointed out.

  “Possibly because they wanted to hear what we were saying,” Siler said. He handed me his goggles. Put them and everyone else’s into the rolling purse.

  The gas masks covered our faces and heads pretty fully. If I hadn’t known who I was with, I wouldn’t have recognized any of us. But we could talk and hear each other, so that was good. I also got to hear “I Saved the World Today” by The Eurythmics, which was nice.

  White and Siler started glass cutting. Waited until they were about halfway through, then figured it was time for the rest of us to get prepped. “Mahin, get dust up here. Abby, get ready to start shielding. And can you feel anyone?”

  “Yeah. Kitty, I’m freaking out! I don’t know if I can do this.”

  That meant the people inside were still alive and likely panicking, so good news and bad news. Meaning Jeff was being attacked by poisoned gas and a haboob of emotions at the same time. We had to hurry, but there was nothing we could do to speed this up, since shooting at the windows would only cause more panic.

  Got as near to the window as I could and tried to look in. Saw no one or a lot of someones. Couldn’t be sure. Had to focus on getting Abigail to calm down. My music changed to Linda Ronstadt’s “Someone to Watch Over Me.”

  “Take a deep breath and think of Naomi.”

  “What the hell? You want me to remember how my sister died? How is that going to help me?” Abigail sounded ready to lose it.

  “No. I want you to think about her as if she’s alive and out there somewhere, watching over you.” Because she was. Maybe Abigail hadn’t realized how she’d gotten all her powers back and received all of Naomi’s, too. “Think of your sister and let the calmness that was part of her personality calm you, too. She’s protecting you, I know she is.”

  “Deep breaths,” Mahin said. “In with the good air, out with the bad air.”

  Abigail nodded. Saw her chest moving as if she was at least doing what Mahin had said.

  “The dead watch over us, Abigail,” White said over his shoulder. “Your sister, your brother, all your family before you are with you now, helping you to succeed.”

  Finally saw her shoulders relax. White may have retired, but once a Pontifex always a Pontifex apparently. “You’re right, Uncle Richard. The dead watch over us.” She pulled herself up straight. “And we avenge our dead. I’m good, you guys. And thanks.”

  “Almost there,” Siler said. “Has anyone been keeping track of time?”

  Looked at Mr. Watch. It was 8:30. Had no idea what time it had been when we’d started down to the window washing rig. “No, because that would have been smart. I have no idea how long before the floater creates.”

  “We’ll handle it,” White said calmly. “I assume we’ll have to help people to the gate, Missus Martini.”

  “You, me, and Nightcrawler. Mahin and Abby need to concentrate on their powers and stay out of the way of said powers and the gate both.” Plus, the girls were barely holding it together as it was. Tossing them into the poisonous gas-filled room might make them feel more secure than the window washing rig, or it might send them over the edge.

  “Get those powers revved right now,” Siler said. “Mahin, we need to open as soon as you have your dust devil up here.”

  She put her hands out. A mini dust devil flew up to us. “It will be larger the moment the entryway opens.”

  “Then ready in three . . .” Siler said, as he and White started to lean against the large-person-sized doorway they’d cut out. “Two . . .” Picked up the rolling purse and flung it over my other shoulder. Grabbed the back of their pants, just in case. “One.”

  The men pushed hard and the glass moved inward. So did the three of us. “Jump,” White said calmly as my music changed to Flo Rida’s “Jump” and the “door” broke free of the window and shoved inwards. The three of us jumped as ordered. The men were on the floor.

  I was, naturally, on the edge. And my two purses were heavy and pulling me backwards.

  Always the way.

  CHAPTER 76

  TIGHTENED MY HOLD on their pants. Siler and White both stepped forward and pulled me along with them. Teamwork all the way.

  Dumped the rolling purse well to the side so it wouldn’t fall out and I wouldn’t lose it and took a look around. What I was seeing wasn’t what I’d expected.

  There were five rounded domes that, frankly, looked like honeycombs. There were five Themnir slowly walking around the room pooping out large pellets. And there were a heck of a lot of people in gas masks fighting each other. One set in gas masks had Jeff and Chuckie—who were in what looked like airplane breathing masks—and one set was trying to get Jeff and Chuckie away from the other set. All of them were in black and there were too many to count quickly. Fantastic.

  “Everyone else first,” White shouted as Mahin’s dust devil flew into the room and encircled everything. “Remember the goal.”

  Went to the nearest dome and knocked as “Hello Kitty” by Avril Lavigne came on. Algar was batting a thousand in terms of “hilarious” musical choices. “Hello? Good guys are here to do a rescue.” Nothing. Knocked harder. “First Lady of the United States here. Are you guys alive in there or do I have to break this down?”

  A hole opened at what looked to be about head height. Waved. Nothing. “I’m in a gas mask so I don’t die.”

  “Prove who you are,” a voice called. Was pretty sure that voice belonged to Raj.

  “You joined our team during Operation Sherlock. If that’s you, Raj. And if it’s not, we’re trying to rescue all of you and you’re not exactly cooperating. Mahin’s creating a dust devil to hide our escape and Abby’s going to shield everyone.” I hoped.

  The dome lifted. It was indeed Raj. “Kitty?”

  “In the gas-masked flesh. Stop talking, we need to get you all out of here.”

  Raj looked around. “The Themnir are handling the gas.” He winced against the flying dirt. “How are you getting us out of here? The way is blocked and the elevators are shut down.”

  “We have a gate.” I sincerely hoped.

  “Great. Where?”

  “Um, on the window washing rig that’s hanging right outside. We came in through the window.”

  Raj nodded and turned around to face the people huddled near to a Lyssara. “It’s definitely her, ladies and gentlemen. Follow me, please, quickly, but no pushing or shoving.”

  “They’re landing in Dulce.” I really and sincerely hoped.

  Saw a shield shimmer around us, creating a tunnel that the dust went around, so it was easy to make it through. Decided no one was dying and I was hot in the gas mask. Took it off and clipped it to my belt. Saw Raj relax, as much as one could under the circumstances. Took the arm of the first person who came forward, who happened to be the old ayatollah who’d essentially helped me sell World Unity to everyone. “Glad you’re okay, sir.”

  “I as well. May Allah and whoever else shower blessings on you.”

  Helped him to the window. Could see the floater gate shimmering at the back part of the rig. The girls were standing as close to the window side as they could. And they couldn’t help him on, because they were concentrating and holding on themselves.

  “Draw th
e Line” by Aerosmith came on. Knew what I had to do, and it was less scary with my boys in my ears. Did my best to plant my left foot and put my right onto the rig. Raj ran over and did the same on the other side of the doorway. We helped the old ayatollah to do the jump.

  “Walk straight ahead,” I told him. “Don’t hesitate, head for the back railing.”

  “But there is nothing there.”

  Said the only thing I figured would work. “Have faith in God.”

  He nodded, then stepped forward as requested. He did the slow fade. Looked to help the next person, but everyone was hanging back. “Chop, chop, folks,” I shouted. “Time’s a wastin’. Movin’, movin’, movin’, let’s keep all you doggies moving. Like right now. Move ’em out, head ’em up, cut ’em out, ride ’em in, Rawhide. Keep the line moving quickly, people, you’re the first set we’re getting out. There are hundreds of people waiting. Move ’em out, Rawhide.”

  The Rawhide theme seemed to resonate for whatever reason. It earned a few chuckles, which somehow turned to laughter. Suddenly we were a fun party experience instead of a Terror Trip to Death. Whatever worked.

  Was thankful Raj was here to help, because it was hard to keep my balance. The rig moved every time someone stepped on it and both Raj and I had to regroup more than once. Algar did me a solid and kept up a stream of Aerosmith, treating me to “Walking the Dog,” “Walk This Way,” “Get the Lead Out,” and the “Dulcimer Stomp/The Other Side” combo. But finally all from that dome were through the floater, including the Lyssara.

  White had gotten through to his group, which included Mr. Joel Oliver. “Good to see you, Madame First Lady,” he said as he led his group over and White took my place.

  “Good to be seen, MJO. I’d ask what the hell’s going on, but I figure we don’t have the time.”