Alien in the House

Chapter 57



VANCE AND I HEADED upstairs. No one was waiting for us. Under the circumstances, this boded.

“Com on,” I whispered.

“Yes, Chief?” Walter whispered back.

“Wow. You’re good. What’s going on? Where is everyone?”

“Everyone is in the Ballroom, Chief. And I’m not sure what’s going on. However, we have visitors, and neither Pierre, nor I, nor anyone else let them in the Embassy. And the shields are up and active, I’ve verified.”

“Gotcha.” I headed for the stairs. Vance stayed close to me.

We trotted up as quietly as we could. Reached the second floor. No one was on it. Figured Walter had really meant in the Ballroom. No worries. We’d had, and won, a standoff here before.

Slunk around, keeping our backs to the wall. “We look ridiculous,” Vance whispered.

“Yeah? You feel free to just saunter on in then, Mister I’ve Got Your Rear.”

“Oh, no, I’m happy following you.”

Considered options. I could pull out my Glock and activate my Poofs, but that could be overkill. Then again, all the men who’d been with us weren’t around. How to tell what to do?

“New plan, Vance. You go in, and if things are scary, you scream.”

“No way.”

“I’ll come in and save you.”

“You’ll save me last, after you save everyone else. I know where I fall on your particular totem pole.”

Hard to argue with the truth. “Fine. Coward.”

“You know it.”

Decided we needed to get closer anyway. Got to where I could see into the ballroom but they’d only see me if they were looking through the door at a certain angle. No one seemed to be doing much other than standing around.

Of course, that was reminiscent of the last standoff in our Ballroom. Sighed.

Jeff stuck his head out. “Stop playing around and get in here,” he said quietly, but with a lot of emphasis. “They’re here for you. I think.”

“What do you mean, ‘you think’?”

“They won’t let us talk and they have ways of ensuring we don’t. My head hurts enough. I can read them, I think, and they don’t like any of us other than Nathalie. And they are waiting for a woman, and I think it’s you. Now get inside.”

Well, that seemed clear. Resisted the impulse to make a joke in a fake Nazi voice and instead entered as requested. Everyone who’d been in the two limos was in here, as was Pierre. Pierre was wringing his hands, probably because he was afraid we were going to have a fight and destroy all his birthday party decorations.

But it wasn’t just them in here. They were all standing around looking at two women, who weren’t really looking at any of them. No one was speaking.

One woman was taller than the other, and both were taller than me. The taller one, who I was also sure was older, looked like she’d stepped off the Mad Men set and into our Embassy. She was dressed in a very 1960s business suit, hair pulled back.

The younger one had just left a revival of Dynasty. She was sporting a suit with some serious shoulder pads and big jewelry. Her hair was big, too.

“It’s a costume party. Who are you and why are you here?”

The taller woman looked at me. “Our message is for the leader of the American Centaurion people and her alone.” She clearly hadn’t gotten the joke, nor had she taken it as an insult. The shorter woman hadn’t either. They seemed blithely clueless—and not at all intimidated to be surrounded by all these men, most of whom were pretty big, all of whom weren’t looking friendly.

Vance scurried over toward Nathalie, who was off in a corner of the room behind our two costumed chicks. Well, he tried. He made it near the women and was flung back. Most of the men I could see winced, and it was a “been there, done that” kind of wincing.

Gower caught Vance before he slammed into a wall. Whatever Vance had hit had been invisible, but I got the feeling that it was around Nathalie, too, because she wasn’t moving much.

Studied our “guests” a little more closely. They weren’t wearing anything that matched, specifically no matching jewelry. Nothing was obviously wrong about them, other than their clothing. Perhaps I was going out on a limb, or perhaps my brain was working at warp speed, but I didn’t think they were from around here. Of course, it took television and radio waves a long time to reach the Alpha Centauri system. Or maybe they, like Jeff, just preferred to watch the older shows.

“Look, the last time a couple of gals from your planet showed up without an appointment, they tried to kill everyone. So, share your secrets or launch your attack, but you’re not hanging out with me alone.”

The women’s eyes widened but they didn’t do anything.

“Oh, for God’s sake. I’m Ambassador Katt-Martini. What can I do for you? But first, name, rank, and planetary number, pronto. Or I’m going to go through your Girls-Only force field and kick some serious Amazonian butt.”

The younger one shook her head. “This is not for . . . them, the others.” She indicated all the men. Shocker.

“In my opinion, it is. So, guys, what I think we have here are either two women who haven’t gone out of the house or looked at a fashion magazine for decades. Or we have two Free Women from Beta Twelve, what we might now call the Planet of Possibly Not As Pissed Off As They Were Before Amazons. I’m betting on the latter, but that’s because I hate to take the long shots.”

The women stared and the younger one gaped. “How—what do you mean?” she asked.

I rolled my eyes. “Look, girls, really, I have no idea why you’re here, but I do know it takes a lot of effort to get you here. So either you’re about to try to kill us or something, or you need our help. No one changes solar systems just to hang out. Oh, and drop the disguises, will you? You both look ridiculous.”

The taller one seemed to reach a decision. “Fine. Your guardians may remain. We were told about what happened . . . before. I can understand your hesitation.”

“Are you sure—” the younger one hissed.

“Yes. You are along to learn. And not question.” She sounded annoyed.

“I can question.” The younger one sounded petulant. I revised my guess as to their relationship.

“Look, can you two have the sibling squabble after we know what you really look like and what your names are?”

Now they both gaped at me. “How—” The older one collected herself. “Our mother said you were wise beyond your years. I see she was, as always, right.”

Their mother. I’d only met one Amazonian who we hadn’t had to kill. I ensured I was standing up straight. The men with me noticed and did the same.

I gave them a short bow. “I hope your coming doesn’t indicate that Queen Renata is unwell.”

“We’re disguised!” the younger one said, while the older one looked ready to strangle her.

“Not really. Not to anyone who’s met the Planetary Council, anyway. Seriously, change into whatever you really look like and how you really dress, and, once you pass along whatever your message is, I’ll explain why you look wrong.”

The taller one nodded and they shifted. Both of them had short, spiky hair. The taller one was a brunette, the shorter one was blonde. They were both very muscular in an attractive way, though, and, as with the other Free Women I’d met, their limbs were elongated just a bit so that they looked out of proportion compared to a human or anyone from Alpha Four. Their eyes were just like their mother’s, and also like the other Free Women’s—larger, more elongated, and a dark purple.

They also looked younger than they had when they were disguised. Lifespans were different in the Alpha Centauri system than those of Earth, but I put them in their early 20s in terms of human years. All the Free Women resembled each other, but these two were clearly sisters—the only differences I could see were height and hair color.

And, as per how the rest of the Free Women dressed, they were both in Xena: Warrior Princess wear, complete with boots and weapons. Clearly no one on Beta Twelve really liked to branch out and try a new look, ever.

The taller one bowed at the waist. “Greetings to the great warrior, Kitty Katt, from the Royal Family of Beta Twelve.” She straightened up.

The shorter one now bowed at the waist. “Our mother, Queen Renata of the Free Women, sends her regards.”

“I am Princess Rahmi,” the taller one said when the shorter one had straightened up. “And this is my younger sister, Princess Rhee. We are here to help you celebrate the first annual of the future ruler’s birth.”