Alien in the House

Chapter 3



“ROGER THAT, Walt. Leaving Planet Pink pronto. But, to keep the theme going, why don’t you pipe “Pink” by Aerosmith through the sound system.”

“On it, Chief.” The melodious sounds of Steven, Joe, and the rest of my boys sailed into my ears. It made the sparkly pinkness seem more appropriate. At least to me.

Jeff shook his head. “Only my girl. Shall we?”

“Stairs or elevator?”

“Stairs,” Reader said firmly. “For those of us who know the two of you well, being in an elevator with you makes us feel like we’re interrupting your sexy times.”

“Hilarious. Accurate, but hilarious.” So Jeff and I still took every opportunity to do the deed, especially in elevators. So what? It was part of the foundation of a good marriage, at least in my opinion.

Reader flashed the cover boy grin. “Besides, it’s only one flight down. If we were going up to the top, I’d ignore my delicate sensibilities and vote for the elevator.”

Three years ago, if anyone had suggested to me that I’d be living in the American Centaurion Embassy as one of the Co-Head Diplomats, I’d have asked who American Centaurion was before laughing my head off.

If they’d also mentioned that I’d be married to an alien from the Alpha Centauri system, along with having been a superbeing exterminator, then the Head of Airborne for Centaurion Division, or that I’d have saved the world multiple times, I’d have fallen on the floor, rolling around, begging them to stop being so funny.

Of course, if they’d told me my parents and best guy friend from high school had masqueraded as normal while actually leading secret lives drenched in espionage, or that I’d also be besties with a former top international male model, I’d have probably had to go to the hospital from hilarity overload.

We walked to the first floor with said former male model and went to the front door to find said best guy friend from high school, Charles Reynolds, head of the E-T Division for the C.I.A., chatting with Pierre.

Chuckie wasn’t alone, however. Cliff Goodman, the current Head of Special Immigration Services reporting directly to the Secretary of Homeland Security, stood there with him. With Jeff and Reader here, we had a lot of power standing in our foyer.

“Why are you both here so early?” Reader asked. He sounded mildly annoyed. This seemed to be the Standard Reaction Mode for whoever was the Head of Field for Centaurion Division when dealing with Chuckie.

“Not that it isn’t great to see you both,” I added. Hey, I was the Co-Head Diplomat and I tried to practice my diplomatic skills whenever it was convenient and easy. “Unless you’re bringing news of doom and gloom, and then come back later, okay?” I also didn’t like to overdo the practicing.

Chuckie grinned. “No, for once, not coming by to share how the world’s going to end tomorrow.”

Good. I wouldn’t have to tell Walter to spin “Paint it Black” by the Rolling Stones. Though I had Stones songs on the playlist for tonight’s festivities because the British ambassador was supposed to be in attendance and I wanted to play more nicely than I had before and pretend I thought the Stones were sort of in the same league as Aerosmith, even though Aerosmith was the greatest and the Stones were merely good.

Cliff nodded. “Under the circumstances, the Department wanted to ensure that you and we feel your Embassy is secure. I decided to come by with Chuck, as opposed to sending a team here.”

“Thanks, we appreciate that,” Jeff said. “So, what do you need to see?”

“Any common areas the guests will be in,” Cliff replied. “This is really just a formality, not a white glove test.”

“Excuse me?” Jeff sounded confused, which wasn’t a surprise.

“Earth saying. Your mother would understand it.” This I knew for fact. Happily, the A-C Operations team, who I called the Elves because I never, ever saw them perform their wondrous and magical duties, handled the cleaning of every A-C facility, including the Embassy. If the cleaning was left up to me, we’d be decorating in the finest of Washington, D.C. dust. I didn’t hate housekeeping, but we weren’t exactly best buds forever, either.

Jeff grunted. “So, where do we start?”

“Basement,” Cliff said. “Let’s do this quickly so you can all get back to prepping for the party tonight.”

“You all go on ahead,” Chuckie said. “I need to talk to Kitty for a minute.”

Jeff gave us both a searching look, shrugged, kissed my cheek, and he and the other men trotted off. This was the result of massive personal growth on Jeff’s part, much of which had happened because he’d finally caught on that Chuckie was no longer in love with me and was, in fact, in love with Naomi Gower, who was one of Jeff’s cousins.

I waited until the others were out of earshot. “Okay, what’s going on?”

“I need to run some things by you, and I don’t want an audience for it.”

“Is this about the two dead representatives and the one really sick one?”

“No.” He gave me the “you so crazy” look. I got that look a lot. “Why would those incidents, however tragic, be related to tonight’s party or any of us in any way?”

“Dude, I figured it was safer to ask. You know how they teach you how to spell ‘assume’, right?”

Chuckie shook his head with a laugh, and led me down the hall into Jeff’s office, closing the door behind us. He sat at the edge of Jeff’s desk. “I need you to talk to ACE.”

ACE was a collective superconsciousness I’d managed to channel into Paul Gower what seemed like eons ago but was, in reality, only about two years prior. Gower was not only one of Chuckie’s future brothers-in-law, but he was also the current Supreme Pontifex for the A-Cs, or, as I liked to think of it, their Pope With Benefits.

“Why don’t you ask Paul whatever it is you need to ask ACE?”

“I have. He says that ACE doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“Huh.” ACE had never had any issue with Chuckie in the past. “What do Naomi and Abigail think?” The Gower girls were the most powerful of the talented A-Cs, to the point where no one, not even Chuckie and the girls themselves, knew the full extent of their powers.

At least, they had been. Until the interstellar invasion.

Naomi and Abigail had used their powers to protect all the various D.C. monuments at the National Mall—and all the people inside them. They’d managed to preserve our nation’s capital and history as well as many thousands of innocent people, but it had come at a cost. They’d had to use so much power for such an extended period of time, it had burned them both out. No one was sure if the burnout was temporary or permanent. The girls seemed to be handling this well, but I wasn’t as intimate with them as Chuckie was.

Chuckie shook his head. “They haven’t talked to ACE since . . . right after the invasion attempt.”

“Operation Destruction was pretty hard on everyone.”

“Yes, it was. We test Mimi and Abby all the time. They still have no more powers than a non-talented A-C.”

“I know you’ll get mad at me for the suggestion, but have you considered giving them a Surcenthumain boost?” Surcenthumain had been created by a whole host of our enemies, Amy’s late father foremost among them, and it was the reason Jeff, Christopher, and Christopher’s “lost aunt” Serene all had beyond-expanded powers. It was also the reason I wasn’t fully human anymore, Jamie having done the mother and child feedback that turned me into a semi-alien.

Chuckie sighed. “All moral and ethical issues aside, Mimi and Abby aren’t handling being ‘normal’ as well as they think they are, so I’ve thought about it. But I don’t want to risk it without some sort of confirmation that it would actually work.”

“What does Tito think?”

“Doctor Hernandez isn’t convinced that we have enough data to safely guess, and none of us like the idea of using Mimi and Abby, let alone anyone else, as test subjects.”

Chuckie was giving me a look that said I was asking stupid questions. I decided to take the logic leap. “So that’s why you want to talk to ACE.”

“Finally. Yes.”

“Does Paul know why you want to talk to ACE?”

“Yes.”

“Huh. Well, okay, let me give it a shot.” I’d been the one who’d figured out what was going on with ACE when we’d first “met,” and therefore ACE had a soft spot for me. As Reader put it, ACE cared most about me and Gower.

Because I never wanted ACE to feel that I took him for granted, I only contacted him when it was important. Nothing had been Earth-shattering, either literally or figuratively, for these past months, so I’d left ACE alone.

I sat in one of the chairs in Jeff’s office, closed my eyes, and thought in my mind. ACE, are you there?

I waited. ACE?

I waited a bit longer, while doing my best to hold down the panic. Maybe leaving ACE alone hadn’t been a wise plan.

ACE? ACE, are you there, are you okay?

Waited a few more long, silent moments. Opened my eyes, cleared my throat, and shared the scary news. “He didn’t answer. And I . . . I couldn’t feel him.”