by Gini Koch
We entered a much smaller room, with even comfier looking chairs and settees. It had tables, and those were loaded with food and drink, and there was also a fully stocked tea cart standing near to these tables. But there was only service for two.
“You always planned to speak with me privately?”
“Oh,” Raheem said, as he helped me to one of the two cushiest chairs in the room, which were the two next to the food and tea cart, “only if you were what I was expecting.”
“What was that?”
“Not the usual political wife.” Bingo. Mona had set this up, the entire thing, betting on him pissing me off and me acting like the person she knew. It was nice to know I chose my friends really well. “Tea?”
“Please. Milk or cream and more sugar than you’d think I should have.” He chuckled again as he poured the tea, added the milk and six sugar cubes, then handed me the cup and saucer. I waited until he’d made his own cup and seated himself before I took a sip. “Delicious. Thank you, it’s perfect.”
It was. I was impressed. Either he’d researched my sweet tooth or he was just lucky. Or he “got” me. It did happen occasionally. Hoped that this was one of those times, because I needed this man’s help.
“I’m pleased you find it so. Sweetmeat?” There was a set of tables between our two chairs. The bigger table was the one with all the food, the smaller table was clearly where we were to put our china.
“Sure.” Put my cup and saucer down onto the little table. He used a very expensive pair of silver tongs to put some cookies and candies and other sweets onto a small, beautiful porcelain plate. It was trimmed with what I figured was real gold and it was so fine that the plate was almost translucent. Really hoped I didn’t drop it, but then again, the thick carpeting would probably ensure it didn’t break. Yeah, there was a lot of wealth in this region. Actively reminded myself that now was not the time to channel Dad and have a Proper Distribution of Wealth discussion. “But I’d like to know—why the unpleasant greeting if you were planning to wine and dine me, so to speak, five minutes later?”
“Ah,” he said as he filled his own pretty plate. “As I said, this was only if you were what I was expecting.”
We each ate something now, though I waited to start until he’d taken a bite. The food was delicious. Different from what I normally got at the Romanian embassy, similar to what I’d been served at the Bahraini embassy, nothing like what we served normally. None were better or worse, but I could certainly get used to this. Clearly it was good to be the king. Contemplated asking him to have his people send Chef some of these recipes, then decided we hadn’t been friends long enough for me to go there.
“This is wonderful, thank you,” I said as I cleared off the majority of my plate and he poured me another cup of tea, complete with putting in the milk and sugar again.
He smiled. “I’m pleased you are enjoying my humble offering. I have seen you on television. When will Code Name: First Lady be released?”
“Wow, not you, too. I hope never. Time is a factor. I say that even though, frankly, I’m willing to sit here all day snacking on delicacies and drinking really excellent tea. We do have the fate of the world to consider, however.”
“I needed to verify that my intelligence about you was correct. And while we do need to hurry, I would like to hear what is going on, particularly because the religious summit has moved to this region. I would also like to know why you chose Bahrain as your first stop. And please don’t tell me it’s because of your close relationship with the Ambassadress. I am aware of your friendship. However, this is a great honor that you’ve bestowed upon us. The expectation would have been that Israel or possibly Saudi Arabia would have received you first. But you are here, and there is a reason why. And it’s not a reason you’ve told anyone else.”
So he was smarter than the average teddy bear. Good and good to know.
“Oh, I’ve told a few people. But yes, you’re right. I have two missions. The first is to share this news—alien ships are coming to seek asylum on Earth. Six of them, containing various alien races, most of which no one on Earth or from the Alpha Centauri system has ever encountered. We need to accept these people and offer them safe haven, and not just because it’s the right thing to do. But also because the entire galaxy is watching us and waiting to see how Earth will handle her biggest challenge to date.”
He was quiet for a moment. “It was only a matter of time, I suppose. Is this why your people are leading the religious summit?”
“In a way. Call it us being forward-thinking versus prescient.”
“I see. What are these aliens seeking asylum from?”
“That’s the key question. The answer is another alien race, called the Aicirtap. A race that’s been altered into a frightening version of themselves by our world’s biggest enemy, the Z’porrah. This race will destroy Earth unless we can repel them.”
“What of those aliens who want asylum? Will they destroy us?”
“Not intentionally, at least to our knowledge. Interestingly enough, however, that question relates to my second mission. The one only a handful know about.”
“I’m listening.”
“I have reason to believe that Clifford Goodman, who we call the Mastermind, the man who tried to literally kill half the world a few months ago, is hiding out nearby, most likely in Dubai. He has a wealthy benefactor or someone with money who’s helping him. I want to find him.”
“What will you do if you find him?”
Considered all my responses. Decided to go with the truth. “I plan to make him really most sincerely dead.”
The king stared at me for a few long seconds. “You mean that.”
“I do.”
He smiled. “Good. I will be happy to offer you whatever assistance you need.”
My turn to stare. “That was a lot easier than I’d expected.”
“I’ll make it even easier. I know who his benefactor is. And I will gladly share that with you, because I consider his benefactor to be as dangerous as Goodman himself, but said benefactor is someone I cannot touch. At least, someone who cannot know that I work against him. And yes, again, we know of Goodman, of what he did and why. There is no extradition to the United States from our countries. But accidents happen, especially to criminals in our countries illegally.”
“Works for me. We’ve never had these conversations should anyone ask, though I may need to take notes so I don’t forget anything. We also need to move fast. The first alien ship will likely land soon, and near the U.S. One of the ships, however, I’m certain is going to land in the Persian Gulf. When, I’m not sure, but we probably have less than a day or two, max, before it arrives.”
“Why do you worry more about that ship than the others?”
Definitely a smart teddy bear. “Because that ship contains some people who, for us, resemble minotaurs. Our intelligence tells us that they’re normally Ferdinands. However, when roused, they’re considered close to unstoppable. And if given the same alteration that the Z’porrah gave to the Aicirtap, they will become weapons of incredible mass destruction, and that means we’re doomed, because what we’ll have to do to stop them and the Aicirtap both will result in us having to destroy our own planet.”
Raheem cocked his head. “By ‘Ferdinands’ are you referring to the children’s book, The Story of Ferdinand, and/or the Disney cartoon, Ferdinand the Bull?”
“I am, as a matter of fact! And I’m incredibly impressed that you understood that reference.”
“We do read in this country,” he said dryly. “My mother read that book to me when I was a child.”
“No insult intended.”
“None taken. You fear that Goodman will find these gentle bulls first, and do similar to what the Z’porrah intend to do.”
“Yes. It’s his kind of evil plan, he wants to make us all pay for him losing so
badly and publicly, and our intelligence also suggests that he’s doing frightening things with cloning.”
Raheem nodded decisively. “Then we will begin immediately. Normally I would urge us both to greater speed, but with the level of intricacy we will need to map out we will have to take more time than we would prefer in order to ensure success and safety.”
“Think the religious summit will give us the time?”
He chuckled. “If not, we will know immediately. While we plot and plan, may I suggest the cucumber sandwiches? They are truly excellent.”
“I sense the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”
CHAPTER 55
KING RAHEEM AND I had a long conversation. I did indeed need to take notes. Fortunately, he had the means to contact people and Camilla was allowed to bring my rolling bag and purse to me. Then she was required to skedaddle.
She was required to come back several times, take things away, and give us things in return. During these exchanges the king barely looked at her. Clearly Camilla had been right—being a servant meant you were totally anonymous.
Some of the king’s retainers had been called, and my gigantic entourage was moved into a wing of the palace. This was one of the big things Raheem was helping us with—we would appear to be in Bahrain even when we weren’t, because not everyone in the entourage was expected to go to every event.
And he was indeed setting up events. Due to the nature of what was happening, it was a fairly easy thing to request that all the top people in the region meet up. Dubai was chosen as the city, and the Burj Khalifa was chosen as the meeting place.
Thanks to Gower’s influence with the religious leaders, they were now coming to Bahrain and would also be in the palace, though the religious leaders were put into a different wing than my team, and Raheem had many palace guards assigned to keep them in check. Also, the various Muslim leaders had managed to get their squabbling flocks to play nicely with each other, which I was willing to count as a miracle. Doubted we’d luck into a similar miracle back home, but a girl could dream.
Israel was also included in this regional meeting, which made it even more fraught with tension and excitement than normal. Raheem, however, had insisted, in part because there would be so much focus on the Israeli leaders and their people that it would give me more cover. Everyone had agreed that no hostilities would be allowed, and the U.S. in the form of my husband had shared that, should anyone be harmed or even jostled, the U.S. would interpret that to mean that the jostlers wanted to have the U.S. send shock troops over via gates. Raheem felt that this threat would support the clerics’ edicts. Really hoped he was right.
About two hours into this there was a knock. “Come,” Raheem called.
Vance opened the door. “Your Majesty, I apologize greatly for this interruption. However, I need to confer with the First Lady for a few minutes on a private matter of extreme importance. May I remove her from your presence for a short while?”
Raheem nodded. “Yes, you may.” Raheem helped me up and handed me off to Vance. Contemplated taking my purse with me then figured that would be rude.
“What’s up?” I asked as we were leaving the room.
Vance looked worried. “Madame First Lady, we have a situation.”
“What situation is that?” Tried not to worry. Failed.
Vance closed the door behind us. “The situation that you’re really not good at this,” he said in a very low voice. “Don’t speak.” He walked us quickly through the large room we’d arrived in and out into a wide hallway. Then he trotted us down that hallway quite some ways away. “We’re going to be speaking at a whisper in case there are bugs, which you should assume there are.”
“God, did Chuckie give you some kind of Paranoia Lecture?” Though I spoke softly as requested.
“No, I just understand how things work. At any rate, we’re in a part of the palace that Buchanan feels is not wired too well for sound, ergo, we’re going to stand here and speak very quietly to each other about ‘matters of state’ that require your immediate attention. To clarify, I’m going to impart classified information so that you’re not flying blind. Blinder than you normally fly, I mean.”
“Wow, you’re really reminding me of what I think of as The Old Vance.”
“And you’re reminding me of The Old Kitty. Stop acting like a ditz. We don’t have time for it.”
“Sorry, you just threw me with the situation thing.”
“Moving on because, much as I love bantering about things like this with you, I want you to know who’s where before we watch the show, because I expect all hell to break loose as soon as the Themnir are actually seen by everyone.”
“Makes sense, all of it, and works for me.”
“I feel so proud. All your things are in the nicest suite in our part of the palace. Francine is rooming with you, is in those rooms now though no one on the king’s staff knows this, and she won’t be seen again until you two do the switch.”
“What switch?” I asked as innocently as I could.
Which clearly wasn’t successfully innocent, because Vance shot me a really snide look. “There isn’t one person with us, other than the Chief Usher, who believes for one moment that what you plan to do is sit around shaking hands while speaking passionately on behalf of immigrants of all kinds. No one doubts that you’re capable of it, other than, again, the Chief Usher, but we all know you.”
“Who leaked the classified intel?”
Vance rolled his eyes at me. “Mona and Siler confirmed what the rest of us suspected when we were all alone in the gigantic suite you’ll be sleeping in and after Malcolm, Len, and Kyle searched that room for bugs and removed or neutralized them all.”
“Um. Wow. Okay. Nice to know the team knows me.”
“Once again, everyone but the Chief Usher, and she’s being indoctrinated in a very severe way by Malcolm, Siler, and Mona.”
“Mona? Really?”
“She’s representing as the person the Chief Usher has the most in common with out of our entire contingent. They’re bonding, which is good, because Antoinette is completely out of her element. I have no idea why your mother approved her coming along.”
Thought about it. “To get her indoctrinated fast, would be my guess.”
“I can buy that. Okay, back to housing. Colette is in the gigantic suite with you as well, and so are Camilla, Mahin, Abigail, Lorraine, and Claudia.”
“That seems like a lot of people in one room.”
He heaved the sigh of the long-suffering. “It’s a five-bedroom suite. And I wasn’t using hyperbole when I called it gigantic. You have your own bedroom with its own bathroom, Francine and Colette are sharing, so are Mahin and Abigail, same again with Claudia and Lorraine. Camilla has her own room. Again, all with their own bathrooms. The room is essentially circular and the gigantic sitting room is in the middle. This ensures that you’re surrounded by women and therefore nothing untoward can happen. This was arranged so that everyone, our host included, will not have any reason to complain about our impropriety.”
“Gotcha. Is everyone else in nice rooms, too?”
“Yes, actually. The king is definitely giving us the honored guest treatment. All rooms have had bugs removed or neutralized. If the king complains, I’m sure you can handle it.”
“I doubt he will. He’s on our side at this time.”
“Let’s hope that continues. Paul Gower is on-site. He’s staying with the other religious leaders, a wing away from us. He’s staying there in part to run herd on the rest of them and in other part so that no one can have hysterics about two men sleeping together in the same bed with intent to love each other.” Vance’s sarcasm meter was definitely at eleven.
“Wise. We’ll worry about being offended by the people not helping us. Right now, King Raheem is our golden teddy bear and I want him to stay that way. Have we determ
ined which team Abigail’s going to be on yet?”
The four Gower siblings were hybrids. Hybrid females were rare and always talented above the norm. Hybrid males had the same likelihood for being talented as the full-blooded A-Cs. Michael, for example, hadn’t had any talents other than being charming and smart and athletic enough to become an astronaut. He was the rarity of his siblings, though.
In addition to being the Supreme Pontifex, Gower was a powerful dream and memory reader. Naomi had had this talent, too, but she had been able to not only read dreams and memories, she’d been able to alter them as well.
Abigail, the youngest Gower, was a reverse empath—she felt thoughts as emotions. So if someone near her was thinking angry thoughts, Abigail felt angry, and so on. She was also able to manipulate the gasses that were natural to Earth that the Field agents used to alter human memories, but she didn’t need an implant to do so.
Naomi and Abigail had worked as a team frequently and had learned how to create shields together—shields that could hold off bullets or bombs. They were the reason that any part of D.C. was still standing after Operation Destruction. But doing this had burned out both girls’ powers, which was why Naomi had taken so much Surcenthumain during our raid on the Gaultier Underground Cloning Facility in order to get her powers back and protect everyone.
That plan had backfired, as so many of our plans liked to. But after our trip to Beta Eight, Abigail had come home with all of her powers back and all of her sister’s powers as well. And probably more besides. Meaning she was now one of the most powerful A-Cs on the planet. And someone who could tell what everyone was thinking via her own emotions as well as alter their dreams and memories and create shields was someone you wanted on your team.
These days, Abigail and Mahin had become besties—Abigail had found a replacement sister, and only child Mahin had found a person who felt like a real sister to her. Mahin was also an earth bender, for lack of a better term. If it had dirt in it or on it, or just was dirt, she could move it. The girls worked together a lot now and were a formidable team. Meaning that whichever team Abigail was going to be on was likely the team Mahin was going to be on.