They were also quite happy to see me. I received an outpouring of love and loyalty that I was used to from my own vast menagerie but not necessarily from strange, new animals. And yet, this family was declaring its total love and devotion to all things me.
Could tell this because I had those Dr. Doolittle talents and they extended to all animals. I’d talked to ancient not-originally-from-this-planet sea slugs and alien cat-foxes and pig-dogs, and everything in between. I could only understand them a hundred percent if they wanted me to, but I could always pick up at least something. And in this case, I was picking up everything.
Least weasel declarations of faith and fidelity received, I shared that as long as they got along nicely with all the others in the menagerie they were more than welcome to hang out. Then I took a look at the person with them.
A handsome dwarf with tousled curly dark hair, bright green eyes, and a rakish demeanor grinned at me. He was dressed in what looked like some sort of bizarre getup that combined styles from the past several hundred years—jaunty green cap with a feather that might have been from a peacock but I was sure was from a Peregrine, dark blue velvet lederhosen complete with suspenders decorated with tiny yet accurate images of the cosmos, a frilly puffy white shirt, a sleeveless vest that could have been made out of long sheep’s wool but looked a lot more like long Poof fur to me, and silver-buckled men’s high-heeled shoes.
Despite my best efforts, my jaw dropped. It didn’t faze him.
Instead, he whipped off his cap and gave me a deep bow. “Madam First Lady and Queen Regent of Earth, please allow me to introduce myself. I am Al Garrison of the Sovereign Nation of Algarria, and I am here to end the war between our peoples.”
CHAPTER 5
I STOOD THERE WITH MY mouth hanging open. Literally, I had no idea what to say. Or what to ask.
For starters, I wanted to ask what the hell was going on. Then to ask what Algar—because that was definitely who this was standing before me—was up to. And then I wanted to ask where in the world Algarria was, and what war they’d declared upon us. But the shock of seeing Algar like this and in this way had me speechless. Was glad no one other than Walter and Vance were around to witness the situation.
Vance beat me to the punch. “Excuse me? Who did you say you are?”
Algar stood up and put his hat back on. “I am Al Garrison, the Royal Sovereign of Algarria, a nation that, possibly until today, is at war with the United States. And I come to seek an audience with the First Lady on important matters of state.”
“Algarria is a micronation,” Walter said quietly. “There are about four hundred of them, so that’s why you’re having trouble placing which one this is, Chief First Lady.”
Managed not to say that I sincerely doubted that Algarria actually existed. Because Algar was about as far from human as you could get.
Algar was from the Black Hole Universe, and he was the one who’d brought the Poofs to this one. The Poofs were small bundles of adorable cuteness, with tiny paws, black button eyes, and tails and ears you could rarely see because of how fluffy their fur was. Originally we’d been told they were from Alpha Four and mated whenever a Royal Wedding was in the offing. Reality said that the Poofs either felt that everyone Jeff and I had ever met or heard of was royalty or else they just liked to get busy, because every friend of ours—as determined to be a friend by the Poofs—had at least one Poof of their own, and Jeff and I had a lot of unattached Poofs who lived with us. Poofs for everyone and more Poofs for me remained my life’s motto.
In addition to being the Poof Breeding Originator, Algar was a Free Will Fanatic of the highest order. Which went against what the Black Hole People stood for, from all he’d told me. Algar had been on the run for Crimes Against Allowing the Younger Races to Screw Up for longer than I could comprehend and, based on how long he’d been around, it was a safe bet that every race in our universe was considered younger.
He’d attached to the Royal Family of Alpha Four—of which Jeff was a member, as we’d discovered during Operation Invasion—hundreds of years prior and had basically never left them. When some of them, Jeff’s father Alfred included, had been banished to Earth, Algar had gone along. By that time, Algar had distanced himself from the current rulers to the point they didn’t know he existed, though Alfred was named for him. Alfred didn’t know about Algar, either. Almost no one did. As far as I knew, Richard White and Gower—the former and current Supreme Pontifex—and I were the only ones. Though I’d discovered at the end of Operation Fundraiser that Siler had started to figure it out.
Algar’s powers were like magic to those of us here. He snapped his fingers and whatever he wanted happened. He had the entire A-C population believing that there were hundreds if not thousands of A-Cs doing the work of the Operations Team—cleaning, rearranging, moving things and people, food and clothing supplies, and on and on—when, in fact, it was all him. He’d turned every refrigerator into a portal. He’d turned my purse and the rolling computer bag he’d given me into portals, too.
And this was because I was, apparently, his favorite. Many times I felt lucky about this. Today was not one of those times.
“Why are you bringing in a family of least weasels?” Admittedly, this wasn’t the best opening line I could have come up with, but it was all I had, in no small part because Algar prevented any of us talking about him aloud and also shielded our minds so others couldn’t “see” us thinking about him telepathically. I had no idea if my children knew Algar existed, though I knew ACE did.
Algar smiled. “They’re the royal mascot of Algarria and a gift for you, Madame First Lady. Or do you prefer to be called Queen Katherine?”
“Neither, I prefer to be called Kitty. I’m sorry, I’m really confused right now.”
“I’m here to broker a peace treaty with the United States, to end the war between our two nations. This family of least weasels are Algarria’s gift to you and the start of our new friendship.”
“You’re expecting an invitation to the President’s address due to this, aren’t you?” Vance asked.
Algar beamed. “I am, and thank you so much for confirming it! Algarria, and our Brotherhood of Nations, will look favorably upon the United States for showing us such favor.”
Thought fast, possibly faster than I’d ever thought before. There had to be a reason Algar was doing this and grins and giggles wasn’t it. Therefore, I could make this easier or I could be really stupid and obtuse and not help our personal God in the Machine to achieve whatever the hell he needed achieved.
Vance’s mouth was opening, and I didn’t have to have Black Hole Universe powers to guess that his reply wasn’t going to be “come on down” or anything else positive. Micronations weren’t something that the U.S., or any other reasonably sane country, cared about.
“I’m sure we can include you. What title do you prefer that we use for you?”