by Gini Koch
Mona put her hijab on then brought mine over. It was iced blue. Even when going to an Arab country I couldn’t escape “my” color.
Mona smiled at me as she helped me put it on correctly. “It will enhance your eyes.”
“Glad I didn’t bother to do much with my hair.” Noted that Francine was wearing the same thing. The positives of being less recognizable in the hijab could only help the cause.
“Any men, alien men who do not look human in particular, who are not dressed in conservative suits will need to wear a thobe with a bisht over it,” Antoinette shared now. “Yes, it will be warm. However, these are the prices you pay to achieve international diplomacy. Alien women who don’t look like humans will need to wear an abaya over their clothes. Otherwise, as long as you dressed appropriately for a workday at Capitol Hill, you should be fine.”
King Benny was the obvious target of the long robe and ornate outer cloak combo, and I couldn’t blame Antoinette for it, either. King Benny wore boots, his fur, and a loincloth-type thing, and that was about it. Sure, he might not cause an uproar, but why push it?
Mossy was the Turleen going with my team, and he was in the robes as well. Jareen, Felicia, and Wahoa all opted to wear abayas, though they didn’t cover their faces. Queen Renata, Rahmi, and Rhee all shifted to look like fully human women in conservative business suits and put on hijabs, though clearly unwillingly.
Trotted over to them. “Just remember that while this is kowtowing to a very male-dominated society, we need these people to pay attention to what we’re saying, not how we look.”
They all nodded. “We will behave appropriately,” Queen Renata said.
“Great. Princesses, don’t look so down. First off, you are princesses, so expect some special treatment once that’s clearly stated. Secondly, I promise there will be more going on. You guys have your battlestaffs with you, right?”
Both princesses brightened right up. “We do indeed,” Rahmi said.
“They never leave our sides,” Rhee added. Couldn’t prove that by me. I literally never saw them carrying their staffs—the staffs were just in their hands when they needed them.
“And we had to do similar just a few weeks ago, after all,” Queen Renata said. “Including wearing clothing that is not . . . natural to us.”
“Speaking of that particular dog and pony show, where are Drax and the rest of the Vata? I thought they’d be coming with me.”
“It was decided last night that they and your five main pilots would be in the Vatusan ships,” Queen Renata replied. “All of them. Just in case things go . . . badly.”
We had four Vatusan ships on the planet. One was what I considered our version of the S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier, which was what I figured the flyboys were in, since it required five at the controls. Four of the Vata had come in two ships, and Drax had come in a ship he flew himself.
The Vata had organic metal plates in their temples that allowed them to communicate with electronics, which was why it took so few to fly large spaceships. The flyboys used helmets linked into the helicarrier in order to do the same thing. Basically, with four Vatusan ships, we had decent backup. Not the same as having the Cleophese or the Alpha Four fleet, but still, a lot more than nothing.
“That was some good thinking. Who came up with it?”
Queen Renata smiled at me. “I have learned much from my time with you. As have my daughters.”
“You three rock.”
“Drax has also alerted Vatusus of what is transpiring on Earth. His world is prepared to come to assist us if he feels that the need is great enough. He also asked me to remind you that he is also royalty and, therefore, stands ready to toss his royal weight around as you and Jeff see fit.”
“Now, that’s backup we can use. I’m really glad all of you handled this while I was sleeping.”
Queen Renata hugged me. “You needed the rest. The rest of us are here to assist. The weight of all our worlds rests on your and Jeff’s shoulders. We all know this. Just as we know that you two will always find a way to save the day.”
“Wow, no pressure.”
Antoinette was getting everyone into formation for our fun walk through the giant floater gate, so we had to separate, as the Amazons weren’t going in next to me. Got moved up next to Mona. Looked around. Jakob, Oren, and Leah, our friends from the Israeli embassy who all happened to be Mossad agents, were scattered throughout our crowd.
Len and Kyle flanked me and Mona with Alpha Team behind us, but we weren’t really at the front—my Secret Service detail, Manfred, and the rest of my permanently assigned Field protection detail, along with Butler and Mona’s bodyguard, Khalid, were going through the gate first. Couldn’t spot Siler, Buchanan, or Wruck, so assumed Siler had hold of the other two and they were all blending. Chose not to ask why—they always had their reasons.
Of course, Wruck could have shifted to look like anyone, so whether he was in the crowd or with the rest of Team Tough Guys, I couldn’t be sure.
A woman stepped up next to me, moving Len over. As she did so, she took my rolling bag, and therefore my purse as well, from me. Turned to see who was shoving in and tell her to get her mitts off my stuff.
“Well,” she said before I could speak, “this is another fine mess you’ve gotten us into.”
CHAPTER 53
“CAMILLA, what kept you?”
Was surprised she was here, but I shouldn’t have been. After all, I’d asked for her by name. I’d just asked what seemed so long ago in terms of experience that I’d forgotten she was coming along.
She snorted. “Oh, just the usual crap you royals create in your wake. Your husband requests that you behave, Mister Reynolds requests that you not do something we’ll all regret, and your father-in-law, also known as Prince Alfred, says to do what you do best and not let the turkeys get you down. So to speak. I take direction from all three of them, but you get to guess who has the most authority as far as I’m concerned.”
Camilla was that rarest kind of A-C—one who could lie believably and at the drop of a hat. Alfred, being a good father, had assigned Camilla to protect Jeff and his family the moment I’d gotten pregnant with Jamie. As with Buchanan, who’d been put in place by my mother with the same directive, there wasn’t a day I wasn’t grateful for Camilla’s service.
She didn’t hang out with the rest of us all that much. The Official Liars had their own club, similar to Fight Club in that you could only find it if you knew about it and its first rule was that you didn’t talk about it. But since we’d been moving higher and higher up the political food chain, with more and more chaos circling around us, we’d seen her with greater frequency.
“Alfred is my guess and my favorite.”
“Got it in one, though I never had a doubt.”
“I’m flattered. But what’s up with the ‘you royals’ bit? Did Muddy talk to you or something?”
“No. I talked to him. He’s right. And I heard about Emperor Alexander’s sharing reality with all of you. He’s right, too. Time to play up the fact that your husband is royalty, Queen Katherine. I’m your lady in waiting, by the way, so expect me to be glued to your royal side for the duration.”
“Gotcha. What do I call you?”
“My name works. No one will pay attention to the servant.” She looked over at Mona. “Isn’t that right, Ambassadress?”
Mona laughed softly. “Queen Katherine, your servant appears to have forgotten her station.”
“Wow. You’re all so much better at this crap than I am.”
“We are.” Camilla looked around and waved her hand in a way I knew was a signal. Rahmi and Rhee zipped over. “Your other ladies in waiting need to stay near you as well, Queen Katherine.” Clearly Camilla was allowed to change the plan as she saw fit.
“You’re enjoying this title thing a little too much. You know I’m going on this tour as
the First Lady, right? You did get that memo?”
“I know that royalty has a lot more cachet where we’re headed. So, however the Ambassadress refers to you, you go with it, including if she refers to you as the First Lady and as a royal queen by marriage in the same sentence. Am I clear?”
“Crystal.”
Would have said more but the floater gate shimmered into view and the first line stepped through. Mona put her arm through mine. “I understand these are unsettling for your stomach. I don’t care for them that much, either. So we’ll suffer through together.”
“Works for me.”
Would have liked to have kept a hold of my rolling bag, because it would have given me something to clutch with my free hand. But I didn’t have to think about it long, because Camilla took my hand and gave it a squeeze. “Just focus on me and Mona and you’ll be fine.”
We stepped through. And it was pretty damn horrible, because Bahrain was far away from D.C. I wanted to close my eyes, but knew the worst thing in the world would be to step out in front of whoever we were going to be seeing with my eyes squeezed shut. Basically had a death grip on Camilla’s hand and was clutching Mona’s arm to me for the entire time.
Wasn’t quite as long a trip as it was to Sydney Base, but I was holding my breakfast down with all my might by the time our feet hit the floor in Bahrain. And we were definitely in Bahrain.
We’d landed in a large room that had high windows with yellow drapes, some very official-looking carpet with what might have been a royal crest pattern, and a lot of chairs placed around the room, backs up against the walls. There was a man in every, single seat. They were all in traditional dress and, based on what little I knew, were likely all sheiks or high-up government officials. Not one of them looked inviting or happy to be here.
We’d exited the gate in the middle and there were no chairs or tables or anything else. Well, there was a Bahraini flag at one end, standing next to the comfiest-looking chair in the room. Took a wild one and guessed that the flag was next to the king. We were facing him, and I really focused on not throwing up.
He was sitting, but he didn’t look very tall. He was also a little chubby, though on the cute side of chubby, like a teddy bear. He was wearing robes over a military uniform loaded with medals, the kufiyah he was wearing resembled a red and white checkered tablecloth, and he was also sporting a really 1970s moustache. Focused on his eyes—presumably gingham was a sign of royalty in this country, and maybe he was a huge Magnum P.I. fan.
Camilla and Mona moved us forward so the next people could come through. Then Camilla let go of my hand, though Mona didn’t release my arm.
Mona waited until the man I was now certain was the king nodded to her. Presumably he nodded once our people were in the room, because it was a good minute or more of waiting. She walked us forward. Then she let go of my arm and curtseyed. “Your Majesty, thank you for seeing us on such short notice.”
The king looked at me. No one had bothered to tell me if I was supposed to bow or curtsey or whatever. My first move, for what would literally set the stage for this entire endeavor, and I had no freaking idea of what to do.
And now I was unintentionally having a staring contest with the King of Bahrain.
“Well, woman?” he said as we stared at each other. “Why do you stand there unmoving?”
I’d been a feminist all my life, well before it had become cool again. Rage nudged in and mentioned that while I was representing the United States I was also, clearly, representing my gender here. At least based on that greeting. And, I still had no idea what I was supposed to say, though I had less worry about it now.
For whatever reason, what Camilla had relayed from Alfred—to do what I did best—registered, along with what Muddy and Alexander had been imparting. What I did best was not kowtow to anyone, no matter how important they thought they were. And the Queen of the World curtseyed to no one.
She also didn’t have to wear a hijab.
Keeping eye contact with the king, I removed the hijab, ignoring the quiet murmurings from around the room. Folded it neatly. Then handed it behind me, still looking at the king.
Thankfully, Camilla took the hijab so I didn’t have to drop it on the ground. Then I walked closer and pulled myself up to my full height, so that I was definitely looking down on the king.
And then I ensured that I did something else—I channeled Mom’s Voice of Authority and everything I’d ever learned in the dreaded Washington Wife class, including how to speak as if I’d actually paid attention in the Washington Wife class.
“I am Katherine Sarah Katt-Martini, the First Lady of the United States, the Queen Regent of Earth for the Annocusal Royal Family of the Alpha Centauri Empire. My husband’s lineage goes back tens of thousands of years. His ancestors were exploring the stars before yours had learned to read or write. You will address me as either Madame First Lady or Queen Katherine, and you will never, ever speak to me disparagingly or in that tone of voice again, or I will gladly declare war upon your entire region.”
“You would set the U.S. against us for so minor a slight?” another man in the room asked.
Didn’t look at him. Kept my staring contest with the king going. “No, you utter fool. Not war from the United States. War from the stars. I will ask Emperor Alexander, he who I put on the throne, to avenge this insult in a way that ensures that no one else will ever dare be rude to any one of my people ever again. Now, you have exactly one second to decide what happens next.”
CHAPTER 54
THE KING STARED AT ME for a very long moment. Then he nodded and rose from his seat. He wasn’t much taller than me. “You are all that we have been told and, it seems, much more. It is an honor to meet one so well versed in politics and power.” The king bowed to me.
Nodded my head in return and felt the entire room relax behind us. The king offered his hand and I took and shook it. Heard gasps. Knew enough about Arab culture to know this was an incredible rarity.
“You wish to speak with me on matters of great urgency,” he said after we’d stopped shaking paws. “I would like to offer your retainers refreshment.”
“We would be most grateful for it.”
The king’s mouth quirked. “If your people would be so kind as to humor us again?” He nodded behind me.
Turned to see that every single person in my entourage, including Mona—heck, including Antoinette—had removed their hijab, kufiyah, or robes. Managed to keep a poker face, but only because Chuckie had spent years teaching me how to do it. Wondered if Jeff could feel how much I loved everyone with me right now. Kind of hoped he could.
Made sure I had full control of my voice before I spoke. “The apology has been accepted.”
Mona nodded and put her hijab back on. The rest of the team did likewise. I actively chose not to. No one complained.
Turned back to the king. “I want assurances that the Ambassadress and her family and diplomatic mission will not be . . . reprimanded in any way for her support of my undertaking.”
His lips quirked again. “No, we would not want to bring your anger down upon us.” He waved his hand. “Leave us, all of you. I wish to speak to Queen Katherine privately.”
This was a wrinkle I hadn’t been prepared for. However, I was also really good at rolling with whatever came along, so I didn’t argue or question.
The room emptied slowly. The king had to continually keep on telling people to go away. Guards in particular, both his and mine. But finally we were alone in the gigantic room.
“Now,” he said, “we can speak freely.”
“I could speak freely in front of everyone who came with me.”
“And I could not. Would you care for any refreshment?”
“I won’t say no, but we can’t actually be alone if you’re having servants bring in snacks.”
He chuckled. “And now I hear th
e real person.”
“Oh, I can go right back to being Queen Katherine if you make me.”
“Good.” He offered his arm. “I have a private study. It will be more comfortable there.” His eyes twinkled. “And the snacks are there already.”
Figured I had no real options and, besides, I honestly felt I could take him, without using super strength or hyperspeed. Took his arm, and we headed off through a door behind his cushy chair.
“What shall I call you when we are in private?” he asked as he ushered me through the door.
“Well, if we’re being relaxed and friendly, Kitty is my preference. What do I call you?”
Realized that no one had told me his actual name, and I hadn’t bothered to look it up. Would have complained about my staff not prepping me correctly, but perhaps they’d anticipated that Mona would tell me his name. Perhaps she’d told them she’d take care of all that—it would make sense, since she was the one with the most knowledge of the king and the situation here.
She hadn’t shared anything, and she’d had time to. Plenty of time, really. So, did that mean Mona had expected this outcome? She wasn’t stupid, and she knew how I rolled. Presumably, she knew how her king rolled, too. Meaning she hadn’t told me his name, or what to do on purpose, so that exactly what had happened would—he’d be a jerk and I’d get pissed and be myself, versus the version of myself Antoinette wanted.
I’d have questioned whether or not Mona had done this by accident or design, and if she’d done it to make me look bad, but she’d removed her hijab, presumably after I’d removed mine. She’d been first for sure, since the others didn’t put their garments back on until Mona did. So she’d led the way in terms of removal for certain.
The risk to her for doing that—of being that disrespectful to her king in her own country—was much higher than any risk I had. Meaning everything she’d done was intentional, and this was the outcome she’d been betting on.
“I’m rarely that casual, but in your case, I sense it will be in my best interests. Please call me Raheem.”