by Gini Koch
White was sitting next to Rohini, meaning he was far down the table from me, but of those in the room other than Alexander, he had the closest ties to the Alpha Centauri system, since he’d been born on Alpha Four.
Rohini put his flippers onto the table. “Our earlier stated intent to ask Earth to join the greater galactic community is the main reason we are here. However, we want Earth to join with us because we fear two things—repeated Z’porrah attacks and contact with other alien life from systems far from both of ours.”
The Z’porrah were an ancient race of dinobirds who had a deep-seated hatred of the Ancients, who were an ancient race of shapeshifters. Both races had meddled around with Earth and the inhabited Alpha Centauri planets, with the Ancients winning the overall war. However, we’d found Ancient turncoats working for the Z’porrah on several planets, including Earth. So the concern about the Z’porrah wasn’t surprising.
“What indication do you have about other sentient races contacting you or us?” Chuckie asked, covering the surprising portion.
“Since our solar system repelled the Z’porrah so forcefully, we have received numerous transmissions from planets around the galaxy. Apparently the Z’porrah are very unpopular.”
“Shocker.” Could tell by the expressions of several White House staffers in the room that I wasn’t the one who was supposed to be speaking right now. Oh well, they might as well learn how we rolled right now. “So, while we can appreciate the need to show a united front, honestly, we have bigger issues at home that we need to fix first.”
“I agree with Kitty,” Jeff said. “Not that we want to insinuate that the concerns of the Planetary Council aren’t important to us. They are. But if there is no immediate threat, we need to get our own house in order. There’s going to be tremendous fallout from the situation Cliff Goodman’s insanity put us in.”
Alexander nodded. “We agree and understand. And, with your permission, we will stay as long as we are able to assist you in any way, up to and including proving that we weren’t responsible in any way for the so-called Alien Virus our mutual enemy released on your unsuspecting populace.”
Alexander had gotten really good at the political speak. Nice to know he’d been spending his time learning, not being a jerk, not that this was a big surprise.
“So, since I’m reassured that we aren’t offending the Planetary Council or not paying attention to an imminent threat, who are you thinking of for Vice President, Jeff?” Vander asked.
Jeff looked down the table at Senator McMillan. He was the senior senator from Arizona, a good friend, and one of the few honest politicians we knew. “Don?” Jeff asked hopefully.
McMillan shook his head. “I’m tempted, Jeff, don’t get me wrong. But honestly, if I’d wanted to be Vice President, I’d have been Vince’s running mate instead of you. And as the President Pro Tempore of the Senate, I can do a lot more good for your presidency by staying put.”
This wasn’t a new statement. Jeff had been trying to harangue McMillan to take the Vice Presidential position for the past several days. McMillan standing firm was in keeping with his personality and beliefs, so couldn’t really argue. Even though his wife, Kelly, was an alumna from the same sorority as me and I really liked her, meaning I’d have a pal in the White House.
“You need to ensure that whoever you put into the position is either an existing politician or high enough up in a government agency to be a name the public would know,” Nathalie Gagnon-Brewer said. She would know—she’d been the wife of a Representative who’d become our good friend, Edmund Brewer. He’d been murdered by Cliff’s people during Operation Sherlock. And the fact that two out of the three men who’d been mentoring Jeff in how to be a good politician were dead at our enemy’s hands wasn’t lost on me. I’d assigned extra guards to McMillan during Operation Epidemic and had insisted they remain indefinitely.
“What about you, Nathalie?” Jeff asked, clearly not joking.
She shook her head. “I’m a naturalized American, Jeff. I cannot become President and, sadly, as we have just seen, the Vice President is truly a heartbeat away from the Presidency.”
Jeff looked at Vander who shook his head with a grin. “I know that look, Jeff, so let me say no on behalf of myself and Chuck, too. We’re both not high enough up in our respective agencies to take the job.”
“Oh, I wasn’t thinking of Chuck for Vice President,” Jeff said.
Everyone at the table stared at him, some with their mouths open. James Reader, the Head of Field for Centaurion Division and my other best guy friend since I’d joined up with the gang from Alpha Four, found his voice first. “Why the hell not?”
Jeff grinned at Chuckie’s hurt look. “Because I already have a job that Chuck’s by far the best qualified to do. Due to Goodman’s virus, we have an opening—I want Chuck to take over the C.I.A.”
“I’m already the Head of the E-T Division, Jeff,” Chuckie said, sounding confused, which was a rarity along the lines of a blue moon.
Jeff shook his head. “I want you in charge of it all, Chuck. As of right now, you’re the Director of the Central Intelligence Agency.”
Gini Koch lives in Hell’s Orientation Area (aka Phoenix, Arizona), works her butt off (sadly, not literally) by day, and writes by night with the rest of the beautiful people. She lives with her awesome husband, three dogs (aka The Canine Death Squad), and two cats (aka The Killer Kitties). She has one very wonderful and spoiled daughter, who will still tell you she’s not as spoiled as the pets (and she’d be right).
When she’s not writing, Gini spends her time cracking wise, staring at pictures of good looking leading men for “inspiration,” teaching her pets to “bring it,” and driving her husband insane asking, “Have I told you about this story idea yet?” She listens to every kind of music 24/7 (from Lifehouse to Pitbull and everything in between, particularly Aerosmith and Smash Mouth) and is a proud comics geek-girl willing to discuss at any time why Wolverine is the best superhero ever (even if Deadpool does get all the best lines).
You can reach Gini via her website (www.ginikoch.com), email ([email protected]), Facebook (facebook.com/Gini .Koch), Facebook Fan Page: Hairspray and Rock ‘n’ Roll (facebook.com/GiniKochAuthor), Pinterest page (pinter est.com/ginikoch), Twitter (@GiniKoch), or her Official Fan Site, the Alien Collective Virtual HQ (thealiencollectivevir tualhq.blogspot.com).
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