Alien Education

by Gini Koch

  The Zamboni was almost on Charmaine when Somerall and Lee both jerked. “What’s going on?” Lee asked.

  “What’s on my head?” was Somerall’s question. “And why do I have this stick?” Then the pain of all I’d managed to do to him hit and he screamed. Lee started screaming, too.

  Yanked my arms away as Somerall and Lee both fell and they let go. “That stick is mine.” Grabbed it and ran toward Charmaine. “Hang on, I’m coming!”

  But the Zamboni got to her first.

  While Lee and Somerall screamed, now in horror as well as pain, and Kramer shared his maniacal laugh again, changed my trajectory fast, which caused me to slip, but at least I was slipping in a direction other than toward the Zamboni.

  Bellie zoomed over and grabbed the end of the staff in her talons, which helped me stay upright. “All is forgiven, Bellie. You really are amazing.”

  “Bellie wants to leave,” she said as she returned to my shoulder. “Floaty needs to get to Mister! Bellie wants Mister!”

  “Good plan, that parrot.” Heaved a sigh. “Only we have to save the two part-time zombies.” Turned to go back, only Somerall and Lee were both silent. Not run over, thank God, but still, silent and unmoving.

  Kramer remained at the Zamboni’s controls, meaning he could still hurt people. He was sort of slumped over, and the machine wasn’t moving, but that might only mean that he was going to try to back up over Charmaine’s remains. There was a horrible stain of blood under the machine that was spreading out over the ice. Didn’t want to get closer but felt that I had to.

  Only someone grabbed my free hand and pulled me to him. “We’re getting you out of here, baby,” Jeff said, sounding as horrified as I felt. “It’s over.”

  “Um, how is it over?” I asked while Bellie cawed out Jeff’s name, but quietly. She was horrified, too. Took her off my shoulder and cuddled her while Jeff stroked her head. “And how did you get here? You were supposed to be staying safe.”

  “They’re all dead. Kramer, too.” Jeff got us off the ice as Mom, the K-9 squad, and a huge number of security personnel moved onto it. “I imagine we’ll discover it was aneurisms. And I had Christopher help me. He really wanted to be useful and hadn’t been, so he held off everyone else while I got out of the room they had me locked into for my supposed safety.”

  “I’m amazed anyone willingly stays on our security details for more than a day. Real aneurisms or ones triggered from afar?”

  “Not sure.”

  Pondered this as we reached Oliver, and Bellie got her reunion, lots of treats, and even more petting. Even so, she wasn’t preening so much as huddling. Could not blame her. “I think that Ansom and Talia were triggered, either via a switch or just because their zombie switch was turned off at the right time.”

  “What about Kramer?” Jeff asked. No one had to ask how Charmaine had died. Cyborgs couldn’t survive a Zamboni, which was possibly good knowledge for the future.

  “Could go either way. He was literally barking mad by the time he ran her over. A natural aneurism wouldn’t be out of the question.”

  “We may never know,” Oliver said. “But the world saw this, so you need to be prepared.”

  “Yeah, maybe they won’t want to make Code Name: First Lady anymore.”

  “Don’t sound so hopeful,” Oliver said, “because you’re sure to be disappointed. I meant that you need to be prepared for more movie pressure and then some.”

  “Ugh.”

  We were retrieved by Alpha Team and taken to the rest of our security forces, then to our children. The kids were happy to see us, but seemed reasonably okay and not horrified at all. Hoped this meant that they hadn’t seen or figured out what had gone on, or that ACE had kept it from them.

  Dad looked shaken. “The adults know some of what went on,” he told us quietly as he gave me a big hug. “I’m relieved you’re alright, kitten.”

  “Me, too, Dad.”

  Naturally the Good Day USA! team was with Oliver and Dion now and they were all interviewing people, including Cologne. As Oliver had predicted, he was talking about how great Code Name: First Lady was going to be.

  “Can we go home? I have no idea what’s happened to all the money and I just don’t care.”

  “Mister Gadhavi handled it,” Lorraine said. “None of this threw him.”

  “At all,” Claudia added. “He’s really kind of cool.”

  “And he’s escorted Missus Paster and the money,” Serene added. “Airborne went with them.”

  “As did Mossad,” Tim said. “So, no worries.”

  “I wasn’t worried. He’s not a cyborg, an android, or a Bot. I’m all about the Mister Ali Baba Gadhavi Experience.”

  Because we weren’t on Alpha Team or part of the P.T.C.U., CIA, FBI, or Homeland Security, we got to go home. Because we were tired as hell, we got to take a floater gate. Phoebe gave me my phone back and Lizzie handed me my purse, so I was able to put in my earbuds and listen to music on the way through the gate. Hit random play then picked Charlie up. Was treated to “Upside Down” by Jack Johnson.

  I was still laughing on the way upstairs to our rooms.

  CHAPTER 89

  NATURALLY, WE DIDN’T get a lot of downtime after all of this, though Raj and Colette were able to deflect much of the press and Jeff was able to deflect my mother and Congress. For a full thirty-six hours, which was amazing, really.

  The kids had indeed been sheltered from most of what had gone on. The older ones found out, of course, because the news was a wall of images from the event, and ESPN, who’d had the full footage feed thanks to Mitch and Johnny, was riding high. I was invited to do guest commentary any time I wanted, which was what I figured would be the only positive to come out of all of this.

  So, the older kids, being teenagers, had spent Sunday “being totes horrified and grossed out” and hanging out, bonding with and comforting Clinton over his father’s death. Considering what the man had just done, while he was upset, Clinton wasn’t nearly as messed up as he might have been a month prior. I did get a shout-out as being parkour, so there was that for the win column, too.

  The little kids were blithely clueless about what had really happened, and I sent a mental thank you to ACE for that, because there was no way Jamie could have or would have missed it all otherwise, and I had to figure the other hybrid kids wouldn’t have missed it, either.

  Thankfully, while Edgar was still in the Washington Zoo’s hospital, he was doing great and would be home soon. The kids were looking forward to a zoo trip to visit him once any adult was up to it, which was not going to be in the next few days.

  The adults were in various stages of collapse, so Sunday was spent trying to get some rest and keeping an eye on Marcia, who we’d had stay at the Embassy with her kids, just in case. She appeared to be vacillating between Mary Tyler Moore ready to take on the world and Kim Kardashian ugly crying. Couldn’t blame her for it. It had been a tough time for everyone, but she’d had to deal with the most personal crap. And finding out your husband had been planning to kill you for years was also a reason for hysterics and Atta Girl Spunk at the same time.

  Somehow American Centaurion had managed to get the Capitals rink back into shape before their season opener. We all watched the game on TV, so the kids did get to see some hockey. Both teams played great, and the Chupacabras won in overtime, which was also nice. Was relieved that all the crap that had gone on hadn’t negatively affected all of them.

  Now it was Monday, the kids were in school with lots of extra Field and Secret Service agents, and we were in the OSR with Alpha Team and some other key people, my mother included. But not the full Cabinet or other political allies. Just in case.

  “I think this was all the Shadow’s doing,” I said as I finished my portion of the Fundraiser Fiasco Recap. Had my phone out and was paying attention to it, because I fully expected a c
all from the Shadow, from Trevor, or from Sidwell, asking us remove our dangerous presence from their heretofore-calm institution of learning.

  “Why so?” Gower asked. “She called to warn you.”

  “I think Manfred was mostly right—I think she called to see what we’d do. I also think she was cleaning house. And that means we need to track down Evan the Limo Driver and Marion Villanova.”

  “Why?” Reader asked.

  “Because they’re loose ends. If the Shadow’s getting rid of people who she feels are past their sell-by date, or who have information she doesn’t want us getting, I think she’s going to kill them or arrange for them to be killed like on game night. That means that Evan and Villanova are at risk. They haven’t worked for us and I’m sure they’ve worked against us, but they don’t deserve to be run over by a Zamboni, either.”

  Everyone grudgingly agreed that finding those two people was probably in all our best interests.

  “What about Marcia?” Mom asked. “What do we think she does or doesn’t know?”

  “Frankly, though I sound like a Mean Girl for asking it, could Marcia be the Shadow?”

  Nathalie and Vance both shook their heads. “She was sitting with us, between us, at the hockey game when Charles said you had your call with the Shadow,” Nathalie said. “She never left her seat, and she only spoke to buy treats for her children and discuss how much money she hoped the game would raise.”

  “And how much she hoped you weren’t playing her and actually liked her,” Vance added.

  “Really?”

  “Really. I had a long talk with her after Zachary dumped her at their fundraiser,” Vance said. “And I spent time with her yesterday as well. She’s shocked that you’re being nice to her and is afraid it’s all an act. I know it isn’t, and reassured her, but she may need to hear it from you.”

  “Noted. But then Mom’s question is even more key.”

  “Right. She knows Evan, of course, and Marion. She hasn’t seen Evan since she moved to the Cairo, and she said she hasn’t seen Villanova since she was forced to give Zachary her diamonds in order to ‘get a better present later’ which, by the way, she never got. She seemed genuinely shocked that he was involved with Fem-Bots.”

  “We’ve done extensive background checks,” Chuckie said. “Chernobog agrees with what Vance has said. I think we should still keep an eye on her, but that will be relatively easy, since she’s on our floor.”

  “Which means we have to guard her, because she’s probably also a loose end.”

  Vance nodded. “She is. Zachary’s estate is in flux, so she’s also looking for a job. Prince Wasim’s generosity can only last so long.”

  “Oh, I imagine it can last as long as we request it to. And before I forget, we need to keep an eye out, because we could have two rogue Kitty-Bots on the loose.” Or they were with the Kendroid. But now wasn’t the time to figure that out. “But, going back to the matter at hand, I agree that Marcia needs to be a contributing member of society. Have no idea what job she’s qualified for, though.”

  “Secretary of Education,” Nathalie said. “And yes, I’m serious.”

  “Come again?” I was clearly asking for the room.

  “She has a master’s degree in early childhood education, she’s a Senator’s wife, so she understands how this town works, and after all that’s happened, she’s definitely pro-alien, pro-Jeff, and particularly pro-you, Kitty.” Nathalie smiled. “Remember, I was her close friend when I first arrived in D.C. I’ve spent time with her since their split—she’s told me more than once that she regretted following Abner’s lead in class and then listening to her husband about hating all of you. As you know, people can change.”

  “Yeah, they can. And won’t Missus Darcy Lockwood be all pleased that her graduates are all working in the government, even though we were all supposed to just hang out and look good.”

  Mom grunted. “I still can’t stand that woman and yes, she’s actually had the nerve to tell me that Jeff only made it into the White House because you were in her class.”

  “Can I kill her?”

  “Just cut her dead again the next time you see her,” Vance suggested. “That’s a far more lingering injury to Darcy.”

  “I knew I hired you for good reasons.”

  “Back to Nathalie’s suggestion,” Jeff said, presumably to stop the bantering. “We already have a Secretary of Education.”

  “But he wants to be an Ambassador,” Nathalie said. “He’s tired of the grind of the Cabinet, he feels that anyone in your Cabinet is probably a target for your enemies, and he just wants to go to some little country and be the nice man who helps out.”

  “How do you know all this?” Jeff asked, sounding shocked and impressed.

  She shrugged. “People tell me things.”

  Elaine Armstrong nodded. “I agree with Nathalie. Howie just wants to be moved in a way that doesn’t feel like he’s deserting you. He respects you, Jeff. He’s just tired.”

  “I get it,” Jeff said, running his hand through his hair. “I’m tired, too.”

  “And you’ve been at this for far shorter a time,” Elaine pointed out gently. “Let him go, put Marcia in.”

  “She’s actually qualified?” Jeff asked, sounding uncertain. “I’m all for putting in our friends when they’re qualified, and I can stand behind that. But to give someone a Cabinet post just because we think they’re our friend now and they need a job seems reckless at best.”

  Chuckie’s turn to snort. He was looking at his phone. “Stop worrying. Chernobog just shared Marcia’s full history with me. She lied to Nathalie.”

  “About what?” Nathalie sounded shocked and pissed.

  “She doesn’t have just a master’s. She has a PhD in education. She met Kramer when she interviewed him for her thesis, since he was her state senator. He apparently felt that it would make her look better than him if she used the title of doctor, so she didn’t, because he painted the big ‘we’re going to the White House, baby’ picture and she bought it.”

  “Dude, seriously? Why the hell would she buy that line of crap?”

  Chuckie looked up at me with a wry smile. “Not everyone was raised by your parents, Kitty, or has your sense of self and self-worth. Some people believe what they’re told, even if, deep down, they know it’s wrong or goes against their better interests.”

  “In that case,” Elaine said briskly, “I believe the appointment would make sense.”

  “I agree,” Chuckie said, “because her thesis was on how to improve the public school system to bring it up to private school standards.”

  Jeff heaved a sigh. “I’m sold. If she wants it.”

  “She’ll have to have her kids in daycare of some kind,” Nathalie pointed out. “And she’s been an involved parent at their school—that’s one thing I don’t believe she’ll want to give up.”

  “Let’s call her in and see,” Elaine suggested.

  Nathalie sent a text. “She’s gating over from the Embassy right now. Should be here momentarily.”

  My phone rang. Mrs. Paster’s number. Heaved my own sigh. “Hang on. Our issues with the school may be solving themselves, even though we won’t like the outcome.” Got up and left the room as I answered—didn’t feel like sharing this call with the others. “Hello, Missus Paster.”

  “Madam First Lady, I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time.”

  “Oh, no, this is fine. What can I do for you?”

  “Well, I have you on speakerphone. The active members of our PTA are with me.”

  Fantastic. Well, better to get it over with now. “Hey everyone. What’s up?”

  Someone cleared their throat. “Ah, we’ve discussed it and taken a vote.” Had no idea who the woman speaking was, but that she was taking Charmaine’s spot was a good bet.

  “Okay. On what?�
� Figured I knew. Marcia arrived. Grabbed her and held her up. We both might as well hear what was going to happen, since I had to assume her kids were now counting as “mine” and, therefore, if the school was booting us, they were booting the Kramer kids, too. “Hang on, Marcia Kramer is with me, putting this on speaker.”

  “What’s going on?” Marcia asked softly.

  “On with Missus Paster and the PTA,” I whispered back.

  Her shoulders slumped. “Oh.”

  “Yeah.” Put the call on speaker and my arm around her shoulders. “Go ahead.”

  “In light of recent events,” the person whose voice I didn’t recognize said, “we have a request to make of you, Madam First Lady.”

  “Sure. What?” Wasn’t going to fight it. The Intergalactic School was great and would be just fine. Other parents were sending their kids thousands of miles away daily, why not us?

  “Before you say anything,” Marcia interjected, “I just want to assure you that everything that went wrong at my fundraiser and at the hockey game were my or my late husband’s fault. Kitty had nothing to do with the failures, that was all on me.”

  “Beg to differ. I’m more than willing to blame Charmaine, but that’s neither here nor there.” Hugged Marcia. “But I appreciate the effort,” I said quietly.

  “We agree with you, Madam First Lady,” the same voice I didn’t know said. “We’d like to ask you to become the President of the Sidwell Friends School Parent Teacher Association.”

  Had to let that sit on the air for a moment. “Um, excuse me?”

  “Your fundraisers have brought in more money in less than a month than anything we’ve done for a full year,” a different voice shared. “Yours and Missus Kramer’s events were, from a financial standpoint, raging successes.”

  Marcia perked up. “You should say yes,” she whispered. “You’ll be great at it, and your children will truly benefit.”

  “So, you’re all in agreement with this idea?” I asked.

  “Yes,” Missus Paster said. “What went on at the three fundraisers you and Missus Kramer handled wasn’t your fault. As you said, clearly Charmaine was around the bend and trying to discredit both of you. That you both held up so admirably was impressive.”