Alien Proliferation

by Gini Koch

“Yeah, Chuckie’s had the realization of how I roll thrust upon him.”

  There was a pause. “Are you both uninjured?”

  “So far.”

  “So, you just did something typical for you that Mister Reynolds viewed as foolhardy, dangerous, and unthinking?”

  “Sarcasm is really one of your fortés, isn’t it? Yes. Please meet us in the basement.”

  “On my way.”

  He arrived as we came to a full stop. Chuckie sighed. “Since we’re all the way back up, you want to tell us if you knew about the elevator?”

  “We have two elevators in the building. Neither one goes down to the basement.”

  “No, I mean the hidden one.” Chuckie was watching White carefully.

  “What hidden one?” He wasn’t trying to lie or be evasive—he didn’t know. We pointed out the switch. White shook his head. “It wasn’t here when my wife was our head diplomat.”

  “Okay, so it was put in after. The Colemans had two decades to do the work, after all.”

  White looked angry. “I wonder how many problems they caused for us, over the years. I find it difficult to believe they ever had our best interests at heart.”

  Chuckie flipped the switch and we started back down. “No idea. After this is over, however, I promise you I’m going to find out.”

  “Mister White, why were the Colemans picked after Terry died? Lucinda told me that they were aware Yates was alive, but I don’t know if they were also in on his world domination plan.”

  He looked thoughtful. “All our original Diplomatic Corps knew, the ones who were . . .”

  “Loyal to you and Terry?”

  “Yes. However, while neither Theresa nor I told them, and neither did Alfred or Lucinda, the Colemans and the rest who became part of their Diplomatic Corps confronted us about it while she was still alive.”

  “So, safe bet they were on Beverly’s side, so to speak. I know most of the older generation of A-Cs didn’t know Yates was your father or still alive. Of those who did know, how many are still alive?”

  “Myself, Lucinda and Alfred Martini, Stanley and Ericka Gower. Yes, she’s human, but she figured it out. Gladys and Harold Gower.”

  “That’s our Intercom Queen Gladys, right? And she’s married to Stanley’s brother?” He nodded. “That’s why Michael calls her at the drop of a hat, she’s his closest aunt.”

  “And he’s her favorite,” White added with a chuckle. “I believe Gladys is the only one who considers Michael’s dating exploits to be adorable.”

  “Someone should. Anyone else alive who knew about Yates? I’m asking so we can kind of get a heads-up for who’s going to try to destroy us next under the guise of purity of the race.” We came to a stop. I pointed to the switch. “Don’t flip that one until we want to go up.”

  White looked over at Chuckie. “She flipped it, didn’t she?”

  Chuckie nodded. “I’d tie her up, but Martini would probably object.”

  “Humph! Mister White, while we look for other switches we won’t flip until Chuckie says okay, any other A-Cs in the know about Yates?”

  “Possibly. Can’t come up with them right now, other than the ones your mother questioned in regard to having helped Beverly with, as you call it, Operation Fugly. They implicated neither the Diplomatic Corps nor themselves. I’m sure I can retrieve a full listing at a time when we’re not once again heading into life-threatening danger. Have you noticed the dread is decreasing?”

  “Just because they didn’t implicate anyone doesn’t mean they’re innocent,” Chuckie said.

  “Dude, you made your point prebirth. I’ve dealt with and talked to Camilla, I’m a believer. As my partner pointed out, this is probably not the right time. And as for the dread, Mister White, it was a signal for me. Now that I’m moving, I think they know they can relax a bit. So to speak.”

  “They?” White sounded guarded.

  “I don’t see anything but that one switch.”

  Chuckie looked around. “Then the boxes are in place to hide the door or switch.” We started to move them carefully.

  “They?” White asked again as he helped move boxes. I saw him jolt. “Oh. Oh, dear. No wonder you wanted the others to stay as far away as possible.”

  “Yeah. I think they moved Jamie to the highest point away they could. They were trying to reach me, but I’m sure she was integral to whatever horror Gaultier and company thought up, and the agents would know it. They’re protectors, after all.”

  “And you and Wayne had a connection,” Chuckie added quietly.

  “Yes.” Now wasn’t the time for the lump in the throat. Grief was really trying to shove in and ride shotgun with Guilt, but under the circumstances, Rage felt it had the floor. I noted that I was getting less tired in direct proportion to the fact that my anger was building. Figured I’d worry about becoming She Hulk after we’d handled this next round of horror.

  “Got it,” Chuckie said as we moved the last of the boxes that would have been opposite the gate if we were back at the basement level. He pointed to something near the floor—a circle divided into thirds with A, B & C in each section. “He really got around.”

  “Wow, messed up another twenty-year plan. I feel all tingly.”

  “Yeah. I knew Amy’s mother was the only thing keeping Gaultier in line.” Chuckie looked over at me. “I won’t tell her.”

  “Tell her what? She already knows her dad was Mister Evil.”

  Chuckie sighed. “Kitty, think about it.”

  I did. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Maybe you don’t. Amy’s mother had an odd illness, right? Something that couldn’t be medically cured?”

  “Yeah. Can’t even remember the name, it was so obscure.”

  Chuckie nodded. “I’m sure it was obscure.” He took my hand. “Hold onto the former Pontifex, if you would.” I grabbed White’s hand and Chuckie kicked the circle. We lowered again, but this time, I could see an opening immediately. “He murdered his wife. Either from using her as a guinea pig, or because he didn’t want the restraint any more.”

  I knew he wasn’t talking about White. “Oh. How long have you known?”

  “Figured that’s what it was the moment she died. I haven’t had a lot of time or ability to research it. But he remarried pretty quickly, and I do know he married his mistress.”

  My throat felt tight again. “You never said a thing to Amy, did you?”

  “No. Couldn’t stand her, but saw no reason to be vicious. Still can barely stand her, by the way, in case you were wondering if White was going to have to do the jealousy bit your husband’s so fond of.”

  “Dude, really, I know. But remain civil.”

  “Oh, I will. I appreciated her trying to defend me.” The floor stopped again. Another long corridor. This one was lit, however. “You two ready?”

  “Not so much,” White said, as he kept me from moving forward. He looked around. “I see no traps or trip wires, Mister Reynolds.”

  “Me either. Have to admit it’s a relief to know you’re not as willing to die as Kitty seems to be.”

  White laughed. “Opposites attract.”

  CHAPTER 79

  WE RAN DOWN THE CORRIDOR. It went on for a long way, but we reached a door in about five minutes of the slow hyperspeed, which meant we were probably far away from the Embassy. The tunnel continued on, but we stopped here. The dread hit me, hard, while Chuckie got his stomach under control. “They’re in there.”

  White and Chuckie examined the door. “I think it’s safe,” White said. Chuckie nodded and opened it. It wasn’t locked.

  We walked in to see a textbook mad scientist medical lab. There were the usual vats of fluids of all sizes, tubes and wires, steel tables, usual implements, and plenty of things I couldn’t identify.

  The room was big, well lit, and temperature controlled, and it had what looked like a full communications area. I examined the console—full phone and intercom set up, similar to what I
’d seen at Area 51, though not all that much like the Command Centers in the Science Center and Caliente Base. There were twelve video screens, each showing something different. “They have feeds into what looks like every main Centaurion base.”

  Chuckie and White joined me. “Yes, Missus Martini, you’re correct.”

  Chuckie pointed to two of the screens. “That’s Langley. And that’s ETD headquarters. Jesus. What areas are they monitoring? And how did they tap into your system and ours without us knowing?” I could hear Chuckie’s wheels turning.

  I looked around, at the phone in particular. “They did it right after Terry died. That phone’s easily twenty years old. Richard was grieving, the boys were with Alfred and Lucinda, the Embassy was being taken over by Yates loyalists.”

  “The tunnel would have had to have existed before then,” Chuckie said. “No way you could get this low and long in a few weeks.”

  I looked at White. “Bet you could if you were using hyperspeed, superhuman strength, and a lot of alien technology. Chuckie, you said yourself they could have put in the elevator after Terry died. Why not the entire Underground Complex of Doom?”

  White nodded. “We built the Science Center in a matter of months. We only have to move slowly when humans need to see us do so. We stay in practice by moving slowly under most circumstances. Building secret tunnels and labs would not be most circumstances.”

  “So, was the C.I.A. always working with Yates?” What Jeff called my feminine intuition said yes.

  “Probably.” White shook his head. “Mister Reynolds is our only ally there.”

  “Angela’s the reason I joined the C.I.A. in the first place,” Chuckie said. “She helped me get the appointment into the ETD, too.”

  I thought about this, while trying not to be offended again that my mother had felt Chuckie was total superspy material but that I wasn’t even up to being told the truth about much of anything. “Mom didn’t know there were aliens on Earth, and even though Dad’s Mister NASA ET Cryptology Guru, he said he didn’t know, either.”

  “Your mother really didn’t know?” Chuckie sounded shocked. “I thought she was just testing my ability to keep the secret.”

  “Near as I can tell, Mom didn’t know there were aliens or that Dad worked in NASA’s ET division, and Dad didn’t know how frequently Mom was doing active fieldwork. I, of course, was clueless about all of it until I met Jeff.”

  “Killing a superbeing was the wake-up call for the majority of our human agents. At least, until you started hiring, Missus Martini.”

  “Not my fault I pick well. So, Yates and the C.I.A., best friends forever?”

  “Probably. I’d figured out what your parents did.” Chuckie smiled at the betrayed look I knew I was giving him. “In high school.”

  “Dude, sometimes I hate you.”

  He shrugged. “Couldn’t tell you. I promised Angela I wouldn’t. Besides, it was for your own protection.”

  “That why you waited until I was fully hooked into Centaurion to share?”

  He got a sad look on his face, but he wiped it away quickly. “Somewhat.” I squeezed his hand while I felt like a complete clueless jerk. Guilt waved merrily at me. “I was appointed head of the ETD division about a year or so before you joined up. But I’d been working with Centaurion for my entire ETD career. There are factions within the organization that have the same views Angela and I do about how best to utilize our A-Cs. Thankfully, some of them are much higher up than me.”

  “But the rest of them want the War Division, right?” I wondered how much higher you could get than the guy in charge of the entire division and then decided I could table that question for another, less creepy time.

  Chuckie nodded. “Or the Power Division, if you want. Everyone wants to control the X-Men, remember.”

  “Good point. Everything I ever needed to know I learned from comic books and my Conspiracy King.” Chuckie grinned and squeezed my hand back. Okay, good, we were back to normal for us, which meant Jeff was probably growling again, but oh, well.

  “I do remain thankful every day that Mister Reynolds, you, and your mother are ever vigilant.” White looked around. “I’m also very glad the Poofs ate our former Diplomatic Corps, though right now having someone to question might be helpful.”

  “Oh, that’s what we’re here for. So, back to Chuckie’s question. It looks like they’re monitoring all the launch areas and main living quarters. The launch areas I can get, but why are they watching the bedrooms? I mean, unless they’re just too cheap to buy their own porn over the Internet like everyone else.”

  Chuckie looked thoughtful. “Let’s see what this does.” He pulled out the chair and sat down.

  The console leaped to life. Images started shifting rapidly, lights were blinking, and a modulated female voice spoke. “Hello, Doctor Gaultier. What would you like VARIS to show you?”

  “Varis?” I whispered to White. He pointed. Voice Activated Recovery Information System was in official lettering on the console. In big, obvious letters. Oh, well, that’s why I had a partner, right?

  “VARIS, show me the most recent activity.”

  “Yes, Doctor.” We all let out the breath we’d been holding. Not using voice recognition software. Images started to come up. Apparently they’d filmed the murder and vivisection of our four agents. I had to turn away. I didn’t want to see that, and I wanted to be able to remember Wayne the way I’d met him—alive and smiling.

  “Tell me when it’s over.”

  It took a few minutes during which I wandered around some more. The room was a big rectangle, but after the hidden elevator, I looked for the supersecret portion of the secret lab. Rewarded by looking behind things. “I found what looks like a humongous freezer. Ten bucks says they’re in here.”

  “Let it wait for a minute. The gruesome part’s over. Need you to pay attention.” Chuckie sounded tense, so I trotted. “Note whose bedrooms we’re now visiting.”

  “Well, gosh. That’s the Lair, and that’s Christopher’s room . . . everyone’s on Alpha and Airborne. And yours, too.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Doctor Gaultier, would you like status on the subjects?”

  “Yes, VARIS, thank you.”

  We all stared at the screen, but the images didn’t change. I heard a printer and looked over to my right. Sure enough, there were papers coming out. I picked them up and stared at the title. “Operation Alteration. Why do I doubt this is going to relate to buying suits at wholesale and having them tailored to fit?”

  White took the pages out of my hands and did a quick scan. “Hmmm. Three main subjects expected to be operational within two days, remainder within two weeks.” He looked up at me. “I don’t think we’re going to like this, Missus Martini.”

  “VARIS, I’d like a status report for all other team members,” Chuckie said to the console.

  “Robert Coleman, dead. Barbara Coleman, dead. Agent John Cooper, dead.”

  Chuckie interrupted. “I’d like a printout, please.”

  “Yes, Doctor Gaultier.” The printer revved up again. I pulled out the list. “Huh. Shows Clarence as freed on his own recognizance and Ronaldo as being held captive by, and I quote, the enemy.”

  “Didn’t think they were our friends.” Chuckie turned back to the console. “VARIS, what stands in the way of our success?”

  “Katherine Katt Martini, Jeffrey Stuart Martini, Christopher Terrence White, Charles Martin Reynolds, Angela Fiore Katt, Kevin Sidney Lewis, Richard Trevor White, Paul Stanley Gower.”

  “Why?”

  “They provide the leadership and protective core for Centaurion Division. Their removal will allow free access to all Centaurion resources.”

  “What do we need to complete Operation Alteration?”

  “The progeny of Katherine Katt Martini and Jeffrey Stuart Martini.”

  White put his arm around my shoulders and hugged me.

  “Why?” Chuckie took my hand.

  “Due t
o father’s genetic alteration, child possesses enough power to fuel an incalculable number of replicants.”

  “Replicants?” White asked softly.

  Right, A-Cs didn’t really watch or read science fiction. They lived it. “Replicants, clones, duplicates. Robots that look and function like humans.” My stomach clenched. “Chuckie, I have a really horrible feeling about this.”

  “I was at horrible feeling in the basement.” He squeezed my hand, let go, and took the papers from White. “VARIS, we lost personnel. What do we need to do to recover?” He rifled through the Operation Alteration papers.

  “Gain progeny of Katherine Katt Martini and Jeffrey Stuart Martini. Plan is operational as long as progeny is obtained.” Discovered I didn’t like Jamie being called “progeny” any more than “spawn.”

  I scanned the status list. “Chuckie, Herbert Gaultier is listed as dead.”

  “Right. So?”

  “So, how is the computer thingy talking to ‘you’ if it knows ‘you’re’ dead?” White pointed to an entry farther down the page. It said LaRue Demorte Gaultier was alive and at large. “Wow, the trophy wife’s the brains of this operation?”

  “You’re the brains of our operation, Kathy.” White managed to make us both chuckle. I treasured it, because I had the feeling I wasn’t going to be chuckling for a while. I put the page in front of Chuckie. He looked up and gave me the “duh” look. Fine, so he’d already figured it out. Not my fault.

  “Her name means the Street of the Dead. By the way.” Got the “so what?” look from Chuckie. I had the feeling he was moving at warp speed in terms of getting over me romantically. I gave it one more, as Christopher called them, “Kittyism,” and Jeff might not need to do the jealousy talk with Chuckie, ever.

  Chuckie turned back to the computer screen. “VARIS, how close are we to gaining progeny?”

  “Operation has been affected by murder of majority of participants. Replicants One through Three are ready without progeny.”

  “What do you recommend?”

  “Activate One through Three, have them remove their counterparts and Katherine Katt Martini, recover progeny.”