Alien Education

by Gini Koch

  “I’m going to refrain from comment, because it seems weird—and I’m talking weirder than your side of things normally manages, which is pretty-damned—that you’d make Bots of the people you hate, then hire them to do your dirty work. Wait. Now that I say that aloud, it totally makes sense. If you were nuts, and all these people are, present telephone company possibly not included.”

  “Oh, I’m not insane. It’s why it’s taken so long for you to even realize that I’m here. You’re used to finding lunatics, and I’m not one.”

  Potentially very true. “How did you know I’d figured out you existed?”

  “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

  “Nice to see you embracing the clichés.” But the Shadow hadn’t used a single nursery rhyme, meaning that whoever had programmed the Christopher-Bot was someone else. “You know I can’t evacuate the building on the basis of an anonymous call made by someone I’m calling the Shadow that most rational people wouldn’t even say exists.”

  “Well, it’s up to you. Just stay alert. Things are going to get dicey and, as I said, I’d like to keep you around for a while.”

  And with that, the Shadow hung up.

  Stared at my phone. “Well, that was different.”

  CHAPTER 82

  “SO,” CHUCKIE SAID. “Want to tell us about it?”

  “Kind of.” Donned my Recap Girl cape yet again and did the deed. “Basically, I don’t know if the Shadow’s warning me for real or just to see what we’ll do, like we’re her entertainment for the evening.”

  “Her?” Buchanan asked. “I thought you said the voice was disguised.”

  “It was. I just . . . some of the things she said, and how she said them . . . the willingness to be behind the scenes, the fact that there was no argument when I said the Shadow had learned from Cartwright . . . I just think it’s a woman.”

  “I can buy it,” Chuckie said slowly. “The Shadow seems less . . . grandiose than the Mastermind ever was.”

  “Less grandiose than most of them were, honestly. I think that those who are tightly adhering to the curriculum set forth by The Madeleine Cartwright School For How To Succeed In World Domination Without Appearing To Be Trying are all women. Strauss, Gardiner, whoever the Shadow is. It just says smart chick to me. Smart chick who’s smart enough to check her ego, versus smart chick who wants the world to bow down to her like LaRue.”

  “But we still don’t know what to do,” Evalyne pointed out. “Protocol says a threat like this means we should get you, Jeff, and the kids out of here ASAP.”

  “Protocol also says that if the person putting on the fundraiser gets the bum’s rush out of the building via the Secret Service, it’s time for everyone else to do that old Blind Panic Mambo. So that option is out.”

  Wondered what to do about the kids. And not just mine. There were a lot of kids in the audience tonight—many had brought their families along for the fun.

  “It could be a ruse to see how we’d evacuate in this situation,” Manfred suggested. “Especially since the Shadow has people inside observing.”

  “Or she’s watching on television,” Siler said as he appeared and everyone other than Chuckie jumped. “This is televised, after all, and the cameras are spending most of their time looking at the President and his entourage.”

  “Nice to see you, Nightcrawler. And, um, yeah, that makes sense. Why didn’t you let us know you came in with Chuckie?”

  “Because I wanted to make sure this room was secure before I showed myself. I’ve also been working to hold a blend longer. Double duty.”

  “Gotcha. So, okay, the Shadow’s watching on TV. Why didn’t she just say so?”

  “She wants you to earn it,” Siler replied. “I think she respects you, in a different way than Trevor does. And I agree that it’s probably a woman—as you pointed out, my mother was good at background manipulation.”

  “But is the threat real?” Chuckie asked. “That’s the relevant issue.”

  “The Romanians aren’t here,” Buchanan said. “They made a donation, but Adriana said that Olga wasn’t feeling well and that, therefore, they weren’t going to attend.”

  Meaning Buchanan and Adriana were not having a Security Date Night tonight. But it also might mean something else. “You think that’s a hint that it’s real? We normally get a heads-up from them. And many times Olga has Adriana go even when she can’t.”

  “I’m not sure, Missus Executive Chief. Olga has MS. She can and does have bad days, and Adriana’s first duty is to her grandmother.”

  Chuckie was texting. “Chernobog says that Olga hasn’t told her to hunker down or similar, and that the Romanians are in their embassy, versus American Centaurion’s.”

  “So no expectation of needing a shield,” Phoebe said.

  “Then, maybe there is no attack? I mean, Olga knows pretty much everything.”

  “No,” Buchanan said slowly, “she doesn’t. Because she’s never once insinuated that we needed to find the Shadow.”

  “Someone smart enough to hide from the All-Seeing Oracle? That bodes.”

  “I can believe it,” Siler said. “This person is even better at hiding themselves than my mother was. So that means they’re leaving a very small footprint.”

  “Yeah, everyone else is doing their dirty work, or taking credit for it.”

  “Or it could be that there is no real threat.” Chuckie rubbed the back of his neck. “I honestly don’t know what to advise.”

  “One thing before we decide,” Siler said. “I received a call from Trevor a little while ago. He wanted to share that Stephanie wasn’t the one who put the wiring into Somerall and Lee’s heads. He was emphatic about it, by the way, and this after I told him that you weren’t going to come down on them for it, since it had happened prior to the truce that exists only between you and him.”

  “Well, if not her or Trevor, then who? He basically said they were the only ones with the ability and know-how.”

  “After a lot of hemming and hawing, he admitted that Stephanie might have taught the Kendrick android how to do the process.” Siler shook his head. “That is one messed-up girl.”

  “So, the Kendroid did it? Why?”

  “He went off to ‘find himself,’ Missus Executive Chief. Maybe what he found was the Fem-Bot Factory and decided to keep his hand in.”

  “I don’t want him to be evil.” Whoops, hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

  “He might not see it as evil,” Chuckie pointed out. “He’s a living machine. He might feel that he was helping.”

  “Helping who? Ansom and Talia claim to not know what happened to them.”

  “Maybe he’s helping his new benefactor,” Evalyne said. “As in, maybe he’s met this Shadow and is now on her side.”

  “And maybe she’s telling him that he’s doing good,” Phoebe added. “He might not realize that she’s evil or against you or anything like that. If she’s being kind to him, he also might not care.”

  “The question of the moment, however, is—does this new information impact what we do tonight?” Chuckie asked.

  Considered all the options. “No. We keep the event going. We’re alerted. Let’s be honest—if it’s bombs, our people can find them. I know the K-9 squad is standing by outside—have some Field agents and the dogs do what they did at Sidwell, the Hyperspeed Sniff ’N’ Search.”

  “That’s sound,” Buchanan agreed.

  “I agree, and I’m on it,” Chuckie said, texting away.

  “Beyond that, Missus Executive Chief, everyone was already searched and scanned coming in.”

  “Here’s a question—did the scans show that the cyborgs are all wires?”

  “No,” Evalyne said. “And the androids mask as non-metallic, too. There’s something in whatever was put into them that is able to fool any and all of our metal dete
ctors.”

  “Wish I’d asked Trevor about that.”

  “You got what you got,” Chuckie said. “That was more than we had. Siler just got more. Call it good and move on. I’m far more concerned about this call and the fact that this event could be compromised than understanding our enemies’ ability to disguise their various nonorganic parts from anything other than an OVS.”

  “Which Congress still refuses to okay as the metal detector of the future.”

  “Jeff’s working on it,” Chuckie said with a wry smile. “So, you know, give him a couple more years.”

  “From what I’ve seen,” Daniel said, “that will just mean Congress is still arguing about the ramifications while more of our enemies slip through.”

  “Easily,” Joshua added. “They seem to prefer blocking and arguing to actually doing anything productive.” Lucas and Marcus nodded their agreement.

  “Politics is what it is,” Manfred said, shooting my other Field agents the “not your place to say” look. Manfred rarely pointed out that he was the head man on my Field security team, but when he did, the others subsided, and it was the same tonight. Four attractive heads nodded so that the fifth attractive head was appeased.

  Time to ensure there wasn’t an awkward silence. “Well, then let’s get back out there and try to keep the peace in whatever ways we have to.”

  We left the room, Siler blending before we did so, and headed back toward our seats. As we exited, a woman I recognized from earlier team meet and greets came rushing over. “There you are!” she exclaimed. “Madam First Lady, we need to get you down to the ice. It’s time to prep you for the dropping of the ceremonial puck.” Good thing I’d left my purse with Jeff—there was no way they were going to let me take it onto the ice, and that way it wasn’t out of our control.

  Managed to remember her name. “Cool! Hang on just a minute, please, Sandie.” Sent Jeff, Mom, and Lizzie texts about where I was and where I was going, with admonitions to take a lot of pictures. Received varying degrees of sarcastic responses back. Felt the love. Sent the same text to Dad. Got a supportive, “I’m videotaping this” response. Knew Dad loved me best. Shoved my phone into the back pocket of my jeans. “Okay, good to go.”

  Chuckie bowed out of taking me down to the ice and headed back to our section. The rest of my security entourage came with.

  Sandie led us down to the ice, chattering the whole way about how exciting this all was and how grateful the Capitals organization was that we’d chosen to do this. “I know the Chupacabras are your team, but we’re willing to be your number two!”

  “That’s great, and I’m willing to say that you are.” Hey, why not? They’d given me a special puck and everything.

  My security teams did whatever fast fades they always seemed to manage. Had no idea where Siler was and figured that he was a big boy and could handle whatever without me. Scanned the crowd and the arena—saw nothing out of place. No one had a rifle I could spot, there were no Fem-Bots I could see, no one looked like anything other than a hockey fan or someone here to Support The Cause. Decided Manfred had been right—the Shadow had wanted to see how we’d evacuate so she could counter it. So, back to what mattered—the fundraiser and the game.

  The Good Day USA! camera crew was down here, though I noted that the cameraman that Adam had had an issue with was gone, replaced by some other guy. The arena had its own camera crews, and the news channels were out in full force as well. The hockey revolution was indeed going to be televised.

  Adam and the Kristie-Bot were getting last makeup touchups, as was Jürgen Cologne. Apparently we were going to be pushing Code Name: First Lady and I was going to have to grin and bear it. Oh well, anything for the cause, right?

  No one tried to fix my makeup, possibly because I wasn’t wearing much. Or else I was supposed to have dragged Pierre along and hadn’t. It was gently suggested that I remove my Chupacabras jersey if I had a shirt on underneath, though. Apparently the jersey was going to make me look shapeless on camera.

  Considered saying that I preferred to stay warm, but decided to err on the side of making those who did this stuff for a living happy. Took off my jersey. Phoebe came over, took it, and helped me fix my hair. Someone cared. She also took my phone. “I’ll give it back to you the moment you’re done.”

  “I’m bereft and without the means to go on.”

  Phoebe snorted at me and did the fast fade thing.

  “We have a special guest singing the national anthem,” Sandie informed me as soon as Phoebe left, sounding totally excited. Wondered if I’d share her emotion.

  “Oh yeah? Who?” Hadn’t spotted a singing sensation on my way down here.

  “Jack Johnson! He donated his talents in support!”

  CHAPTER 83

  MANAGED TO SLAP AN excited expression onto my face. “Wow! So cool.”

  If Other Me from Bizarro World was here, she’d be jumping up and down. Actually, she’d be hanging out with said special guest, since she and her family were close friends with one of the artists I considered the most boring in the world. However, he was a nice guy and, for a preseason game and as a donation, not a problem. Wondered if he was here because he wanted to sing the Code Name: First Lady theme. Made a mental note to tell Raj that this was a deal breaker.

  “Isn’t it though?” Sandie beamed. “We’ve been playing one of his best albums to kind of warm up the crowd. We figured that, since you’re a rock and roll aficionado, you’d really appreciate it.”

  Realized there was music playing and had been since at least when I’d gotten my call from the Shadow. It had been quiet and unremarkable and I’d ignored it completely. Focused on listening. Sure enough, it was Jack Johnson. How anyone could consider this man’s sound to be rock and roll was beyond me. But who was I to argue with Sandie’s clear Jack Johnson–positive bias? “Ah, yes. Which album is this again?”

  “His In Between Dreams album. It’s my absolute favorite of his.” Yep, Sandie was a Jack Johnson fangirl.

  Did my best to channel my Inner Other Me. “Oh, yeah, mine too! He’s just so soothing and, um, meaningful.”

  “Isn’t he?” She beamed again. “I’m so glad we could give you this wonderful surprise!”

  “Oh, yeah, I’m totally surprised. Totally. Very wonderful indeed.” Hoped I’d sounded believable. Sandie seemed happy, so presumed I had.

  Naturally, this meant that I had to Meet The Artist. He was very nice as we shook paws and exchanged meaningless pleasantries. Fortunately, Sandie was handling the fawning and fangirling portion, so I didn’t have to.

  Intros over, it was time to get this party started. Normally the anthem was the last thing before the game started. But since Jeff and I were here and this was my fundraiser and all that jazz, and Good Day USA! was here, too, and we had not one but two additional celebrity guests on the ice, we were mixing it up tonight, big-time.

  First off, Adam and the Kristie-Bot did a variety of intros and crowd warm-ups, which included a reminder that this was a fundraiser and that there were raffles, normal and 50/50 and others, so the people who’d already shelled out big bucks to be here could give more. Mrs. Paster was brought down now, and she gave a short address about all the good that Sidwell’s graduates went on to do. Even I was ready to donate more when she was done.

  Next up, a short interview with Cologne wherein he did indeed push the Code Name: First Lady franchise—and he called it a franchise, too, making me cringe inside—and one with Johnson, where he merely said it was an honor and a thrill to be here, but did add that he was flattered he was one of my favorite artists, meaning that’s what Sandie had told him. Really hoped my Happy Poker Face was firmly in place for all of this, since I knew if it wasn’t I’d enjoy a lecture tomorrow.

  Both hockey teams skated out and lined up. Since Johnson was now on the red carpet on the ice, he went into the national anthem, accompanie
d by a nice patriotic light show. He did an admirable job, hitting the high notes well, which kind of surprised me, and he received thunderous applause. So far, so very good.

  Now it was my big moment. Adam came and escorted me onto the red carpet that held the Good Day USA! team. Did the little fundraiser chat with him and the Kristie-Bot, spoke about how we wouldn’t let anti-alien forces break up the unity that was currently going on all over the world, and only had to say once that Code Name: First Lady would likely be fun.

  The torture portion of the festivities over, it was time for the good stuff. I stayed where I was while the others, including the hockey teams—other than the new Good Day USA! cameraman who was filming the rest of the festivities—got off the ice. The cameraman had a big bag slung over his neck, kind of like how I secured my purse when I was in action mode, only his bag was behind him. He saw me looking and gave me a thumbs-up. Did the same back.

  I was escorted off the carpet and onto the ice by the Chupacabras’ goalie, team captain, and main enforcer, aka my favorite players. Fortunately, I was an athlete, knew how to ice skate and therefore how to keep my balance on ice, and Converse were great shoes for ice sliding. Didn’t really have any issues, and if I did, the hunky hockey players were holding me in such a way that I wouldn’t go down. Really hoped Dad was getting all of this on video and that others were actually taking stills.

  Got a lot of applause and waved to the crowd in what was hopefully the approved manner as I was positioned in front of the Capitals’ goalie and net.

  The Chups’ mascot, Killer the Chupacabra, skated out to wild applause, from me as well as others. It was a rarity that he was here, since mascots weren’t normally at away games, but I’d requested him specifically. Sometimes being the FLOTUS was worth it.

  I loved Killer, just like all the other fans did. He was ugly—since Chupacabras looked like hairless wild dogs with extra-large fangs and spines on their backs—but misunderstood. He didn’t want to eat anyone’s goats or cattle or pets, he merely wanted his hockey team, the best hockey team in the league, to win. He was Arizona’s Champion of Desert Hockey and a total fan favorite. You had to sign up before the game to get your picture taken with Killer, he was that popular. Basically, you’d take Killer from us over our cold, frozen bodies.