Alien Tango

by Gini Koch

“Nothing.” He wasn’t looking at me.

  I thought about it. “Baby, I know you don’t know what you’re doing after I harpoon you.”

  “I almost killed you twice.” His voice was low and he was staring at the ground.

  “Christopher created a distraction, and I got you under control. It’s okay.”

  “What’s it like when we’re alone? When there’s no one to distract me?” He looked straight into my eyes. “How many times have I almost killed you?”

  I put my arms around his waist and leaned my head against his chest. “Many fewer than you’ve saved me or protected me.” He clutched at me, and I decided Lorraine was right. Martini needed to sleep. “Let’s get into a room and go to bed, okay?”

  “Sounds good.” He was still upset, I could tell, but I didn’t want to discuss this in public any more.

  “Who’s sleeping where?” I asked Alfred as we walked over to him.

  “We figured the bachelors could take the guesthouse.”

  “That sounds like a good plan, but where are we going to put Serene?” I didn’t want her sleeping with Brian tonight. Not that I suddenly wanted him for myself, but she was too fragile and still drugged, so we had no way of knowing what she would or wouldn’t do.

  “Lorraine told me what was done to her,” he said softly. “I think it will be best to keep her with me and Lucinda.”

  “Um, in the bedroom with you?” This sounded beyond freaky.

  Alfred grinned. “Not quite. We had to install a . . . special annex in our bedroom.”

  “When I was born,” Martini said, voice clipped. His body was tense again.

  Alfred nodded and looked straight at him. “Yes. We didn’t mind. We minded that you were suffering, not that we had to find ways to deal with it.”

  “So, why put Serene there?” I asked before this turned nasty or weepy, neither one of which I thought Martini was up to right now.

  “It’s something of an isolation chamber, but it also monitors other functions, including brain waves. Under the circumstances, until we can identify the nature of the drugs given to her and what effect they’ve had, I want to keep her under observation. However, I don’t think she can emotionally handle being separated from your group.”

  “No, I’m sure she can’t. I don’t want to just dump her off somewhere. She’s been treated badly enough.”

  Alfred gave me a long look. “She tried to kill you. More than once.”

  I shrugged. “It wasn’t her fault. I’m sure she would have resented me under normal circumstances, but her becoming poster girl for the unhinged was due to what Taft’s people did to her.”

  He nodded. “Yes, I agree.” Alfred walked off to have the A-C attendants get the guys over to the guesthouse.

  “Which one of the other two houses is the guesthouse?”

  “The one nearest our house. The other one’s the servants’ quarters.” He said it so casually, as though it was nothing. I managed to keep my mouth shut. Of course, Martini picked up what I was feeling. “Why does it bother you?”

  “I had no idea your family was loaded. No one acts like it.”

  “We don’t care about it all that much. Money’s a useful thing, the more of it you have, the more you can take care of your people.”

  Well, I knew my father would be pleased with that sentiment. “How is it your family lives like this?” Most of the A-Cs I knew lived in the Dulce Science Center, with a few at Area 51 and Caliente Base. As I’d understood it, the entire A-C population lived in or around each of the bases worldwide. But while this was close to Canaveral Base, it resembled standard A-C housing like a Ferrari resembled a Yugo.

  “My father holds some patents—he’s one of the few male A-Cs with scientific aptitude. Not a birth-talent, just skill and ability. Several of our female scientists do as well. It helped that they came here with more advanced scientific knowledge than Earth had.”

  “So, why the huge estate?”

  Martini shrugged. “Humans are impressed by wealth and the show of wealth. So we make sure we have a few showcases, just in case.” He looked at me. “Most of our human operatives get over it quickly. Why aren’t you?”

  “I’ve known for less than a day.” Another thought occurred. “The allowance you give me—where does that come from?”

  “We call those wages, and it comes from the fund that pays people.” He grinned. “You worried you’re stealing from my trust fund?”

  “Actually, yeah.”

  He laughed. “You’re not. You’re being paid for services rendered to the United States Government, Centaurion Division, and the World Safety Organization.”

  That last one was a new one to me. “World Safety Organization?”

  “The name we use when we have to work outside the U.S. You’ve heard me use it, in Paris for sure.”

  Paris. The main things I remembered from that trip were great sex in the women’s bathroom in the Metro and Martini catching me when a superbeing knocked me off the side of the Eiffel Tower. It had been a short, excitement-filled trip. “Uh, right.”

  “You need to pay attention more.”

  “It’s Kitty, why expect her to pay attention to what we think is important?” Christopher was next to us. “I’m heading over to the guesthouse. Make sure you get some rest—this isn’t over yet, just paused.” He gave me a sidelong look. “That’s probably up to you. The isolation chamber is in the basement, should you need it.”

  “Like I could find it.”

  Christopher shrugged. “We lived in the Embassy when we were little. It’s bigger than this.”

  “There really is an A-C Embassy?”

  “In D.C., yeah.” He sighed. “I miss it there, sometimes.”

  “Me, too.” Martini sighed as well. “Okay, well, get some rest yourself. See you somewhere in the daylight hours.”

  I’d never seen them do this kind of farewell just because they were going to bed. They seemed uncomfortable being separated here. I grabbed Christopher’s arm as he turned away. “You know, you don’t have to go to the guesthouse if you don’t want to.”

  “Uh, what?” He looked slightly freaked.

  Martini chuckled. “She’s picked up we don’t like to be apart when we’re here.” He hugged me. “But we’re big boys now and can handle it.”

  “You sure?”

  Christopher nodded. “Yeah. We’re in charge, now.” He leaned down and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks for the offer, though.” He clapped Martini on the shoulder, then wandered off.

  That left the eight of us who were couples and Serene. Gower and Reader seemed at ease, as did Claudia and Lorraine. Randy and Joe looked as uncomfortable as I felt. Which somehow made me feel better.

  Serene seemed like a scared rabbit, but I couldn’t blame her. It was clear from how she’d talked to and about Martini and Christopher that she was in awe of their status, and I had the feeling she hadn’t been over to Martini Manor before now.

  I heard a woman’s voice, talking to Christopher, but out of sight. The words weren’t clear, but it didn’t sound unpleasant. That conversation over, I was somewhat unsurprised to see Lucinda come the way Christopher had gone.

  She hugged Gower and Reader, then came over to us. I tried to move away from Martini again so they’d have free hugging room, but he clearly didn’t want me to, because his hold on my shoulders didn’t release. He was tensed up again.

  Lucinda noticed, but she didn’t get upset. She just came and hugged us both. Martini’s body relaxed, and he hugged his mother back. I just sort of got squished, but I managed not to take it personally.

  “Do you need to go into isolation?” she asked as the group hug ended.

  “No, just to bed.”

  She nodded. “Can you take the others up? I want to get Serene tucked away.”

  “Yep.” Martini moved us off. I looked over my shoulder—Lucinda had her arm around Serene and was leading her off in a different direction.

  “How close to your pa
rents’ bedroom will we be?”

  “Different wing. We move fast enough that the rooms don’t have to be close for a parent to get to a child.” He grinned. “The room monitors turn off easily, too. And the rooms are pretty well soundproofed.”

  “Good. Not that this will be a worry tonight,” I said as sternly as I could manage.

  Martini chuckled. “That’s what waking up’s for.”

  CHAPTER 62

  OUR THINGS WERE IN A ROOM, it had a bed, we got undressed, crawled into said bed, cuddled up, and both fell asleep immediately.

  I woke up to see daylight streaming in the window. It was a shock. Dulce living floors were all underground, and I’d become accustomed to the pseudo-daylight the master-computer-controlled lighting provided. Real sunlight was a rarity these days.

  I was alone in the bed, which caused me a lot of worry. “In the bathroom,” Martini called. “Nice to know you care.” I heard the shower turn on.

  Rolled out of bed and joined him. Tried for quiet sex. Failed. Decided not to care.

  Whoever ran the laundry services at Dulce had the contract for Martini Manor as well. All our clothes were back, cleaned and pressed. My Converse had been snatched in the night and cleaned off as well. I chose not to wonder how—time spent thinking about that was not time well spent for me.

  It was midafternoon before we got out of the room, and not because we’d spent that much time in the shower, but because we’d slept in so late. Martini seemed better, at least his back looked perfectly fine, but I wasn’t so sure. No isolation likely meant not enough regeneration.

  Everyone gathered in the dining hall, where another great meal was served. This one seemed designed to cover all the bases—sandwiches, fruit, vegetables, fried chicken, hamburgers, hot dogs. I had some of everything, Martini stuck with sandwiches, fruit, and veggies. He was a much healthier eater than I was. He avoided the cookies, brownies, and cupcakes. I took one of each and snagged some for the road, too.

  This meal was much more relaxed as well. Lucinda and Alfred seemed happy to have us there, as opposed to trying to run half of us out of town. I wondered if Marianne had told me the truth and decided she might have. I also assumed she’d told her mother that pushing me away wasn’t going to work.

  Kevin had been up the earliest, making phone calls and arrangements. Sadly, no one had been able to connect anything definitively to Leventhal Reid, so he was still out and about, doing his nasty work. With Howard Taft dead, that avenue was closed. Kevin had people working on Frank Taft, Turco, Helen, and the rest of those we’d taken into custody, but so far, nothing.

  Daniel Chee and his family appeared safe, but Kevin didn’t relax the guard on them—just in case. They were going to have A-C and P.T.C.U. guards until we knew if Reid had been stopped or was in custody. I liked how Kevin thought.

  Michael and Brian got word that they had to get back to Kennedy and report in, so they were going to stay with the Martinis another night and go with Alfred the next day. The Martinis were also keeping Serene—she was still in their antechamber, having the drugs flushed out of her system.

  That left the rest of us who all wanted to get back to Dulce. Only, there was a small wrinkle. “You all have to go to Caliente Base,” Kevin reminded us. “It’s annexed. And, from what Angela’s said, there are a lot of the younger A-Cs there already.”

  “Our stuff’s in Dulce.”

  “Probably moved over,” Martini said. He didn’t seem concerned. “We’ll deal with it when we’re back.”

  Good-byes were said, and then we all trooped to the gate room. “You sure it’s safe to go to the jet?”

  Martini shrugged. “Fifty percent chance.”

  “Oh, great odds.”

  “I don’t want to leave the jet,” Reader said.

  “Are we arriving inside the jet?” How did the gates do this? And why did I never know?

  “Yes.” Martini looked at me out of the corner of his eye. “One day, I’ll tell you how.”

  “Humph.”

  Just like before, Martini insisted on going first and tried to make me wait to go last with Christopher. I threw a mild fuss and got moved up ahead of the girls and my pilots, but still right behind Christopher. Oh, well, it wasn’t at the end of the chain.

  We moved through rapidly, about two seconds between entries. I closed my eyes and walked through. Still sucked. Opened them when my foot hit something solid. Thankfully, it was the floor of the jet.

  Everyone filed in, and Reader and Tim went to the cockpit. I followed. “Guys, what if they put a bomb on the plane?”

  “Scanning now, girlfriend.” Reader looked up at me. “Sometimes we’re ahead of you.”

  “You sure it’ll pick up things like Serene’s invisible floating bombs?”

  “Yep.”

  “Okay.” I wasn’t sure if I should relax but decided to have some faith.

  The plane deemed safe, everyone settled in and we took off. Martini still seemed tired, and as soon as we were airborne, Lorraine insisted he use the bed. I went with him, though with a full plane, the last thing I wanted was to garner Mile High Miles.

  Lorraine hooked Martini up to a variety of equipment, as well as an IV with some kind of regenerative saline drip. They both insisted this was routine for empaths who weren’t able to go into full isolation, so I stopped worrying. Sort of.

  Of course, as isolation chambers went, the jet bedroom was a huge improvement. The real ones looked like Frankenstein’s lab mixed with a creepy Egyptian tomb theme and some science fiction horror elements added in just for fun. Isolation chambers didn’t have beds so much as they had padded, super-duper hospital gurneys that rotated like the Tilt-A-Whirl. They also slept one, to use the term loosely. Individual models, particularly those for the younger empaths, resembled futuristic sarcophagi crossed with an Iron Maiden, not, sadly, the band. I figured even Eddie would hate having to go into any form of A-C isolation.

  Normally Martini had tubes and wires going in everywhere, including his head, so sitting on a king-sized bed with an IV drip into his arm and a couple of sensors attached to his chest and temples seemed tame and almost cozy. I didn’t have the impulse to rip everything out of him and run away hysterically, which was a bonus, too. The medical teams and empaths claimed isolation was harder for the empath’s loved ones than for the empath, but I still didn’t believe it.

  Right after Lorraine left, Martini tried to ask me something, but whatever he was hooked up to knocked him out before he could get more than a couple of words out. I laid us both down, but I didn’t sleep. I lay there, held him, and wondered why we were being allowed to leave so easily. There was something we were all missing. The threat wasn’t over.

  Kevin had gotten a lot of Club 51 people rounded up. Most of these were harmless crackpots, but a few had been dangerous enough to take into custody. But Kevin felt there were hundreds, potentially thousands, we didn’t have tabs on yet, and I knew he was right.

  Leventhal Reid had an airtight alibi, since he’d been with my mother, the President, or a variety of other politicians the entire time we’d been on this mission. Which meant the threatening phone call I’d gotten during dinner at Martini Manor had come from Taft.

  I tried to think like Chuckie again. Power plays like this were chess matches. You sacrificed whatever piece you had to in order to win. Reid was the king. Taft wasn’t a pawn, he was at least a bishop on Reid’s board. So, who were his other pieces? Serene had been an unwitting one, more powerful than a pawn, call her the queen they thought they were controlling. The others at Kennedy were pawns, rooks, maybe knights, but no one got rid of all their pieces. You could still win if you had a pawn or one power piece, even if your opponent seemed to have the upper hand.

  So who was left? Were all the pieces taken so Reid would have to regroup and find new ones? Or were we overlooking a power piece or a pawn standing on the edge of the board?

  I worried about this the entire way home, while Martini slept like the dead
. In fact, the only way I knew he was alive was that he would occasionally nuzzle his face more into my breasts or hug me closer. Otherwise, he was more out than I’d ever seen. Whatever Lorraine was giving him was heavy duty.

  The flight was uneventful. We landed at Area 51 and were greeted by the Pontifex. Hugs all around. White seemed relieved we were all back. “I’m sorry for what happened,” he said to me as we went into Headquarters. He’d ensured we were walking behind the others, and that Martini and Christopher were far ahead.

  “It’s okay, we’re kind of used to things trying to kill us.”

  He laughed. “I meant what my sister tried to pull.”

  “Oh, that. Yeah, that was interesting.” I took a deep breath. “So, is Caliente Base really annexed?”

  “Oh, yes. We were fully cooperative. The U.S. military were thrilled to be escorting so many young ladies to safety.”

  I winced. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” White shook his head. “You’ve made it easier.”

  “What easier?”

  “Lifting the interspecies marriage ban.”

  “Seriously?” I tried not to think about Martini’s reaction. I wasn’t sure if he’d be thrilled or not. A part of me still sometimes wondered if he was with me because I was exotic and forbidden.

  “Yes. It will require more negotiations and a huge show of resistance on the part of my Office, but I expect things to be approved in the reasonably near future.”

  “You don’t seem upset.”

  “I’m not. Your arguments in favor have been more compelling than you realize. However, I have an entire race of people who have to be moved to a mind-set that, for many, is incompatible with our traditions.”

  “Yeah, I got a load of those firsthand.”

  White chuckled. “No one had accepted on behalf of their children on Alpha Centauri for at least three decades before we came to Earth. Barbara and Lucinda just figured it was worth a try.”

  “So, does your sister actually hate me?”

  “We had a long chat. No, she’s afraid being married to Jeffrey will be more than you can deal with and that you’ll leave him, either before or definitely after you have children.”