Alien in the House

Chapter 70



THREE OF THE FOUR men in the room looked at me with various degrees of horror in their expressions. But since we were on speaker, none of them could speak, or at least they all had the good sense to remain silent.

Oliver turned on his pocket tape recorder with the look of a man who has been shown what Santa has for him in the sack of goodies and is reveling in the proof that, this year, he was a very, very good boy indeed.

Cleared my throat. Time for the official spin. “Mister President, I apologize for interrupting your meeting. However, I’d appreciate some assistance from the P.T.C.U.”

“Why is that?” The President had a smooth baritone. Now probably wasn’t the time to offer a compliment, though.

“Because I feel that we have, yet again, been the focus of a terrorist attack.”

There was a lot of noise in the background. Heard my mother point-blank tell everyone to shut the hell up. Which they all did. My opinion of my mother’s pull, which was pretty damned high already, ratcheted up. Either that or she was about to be fired. Went with the rosier outlook.

“Why is that, Ambassador?” Mom asked in her All-Business voice.

“Because the vehicle belonging to Clifford Goodman, the Head of Special Immigration Services for Homeland Security, was blown up right before he, the Head of the C.I.A.’s E-T Division, newly sworn in Representative Martini, and I could enter it. Fortunately for all of us, Mister Goodman chose to show us his brand-new car’s remote start function, which is the only reason the four of us are alive at this time.”

The murmuring started again, and again Mom shut it down.

“Why did you flee the scene?” Mom asked.

I snorted. Loudly. “The press were incredibly antagonistic, we were worried that the bomber was still around or might be disguised as press and egging them on to violence, we saw an opening, and we ran to the safety of Rayburn House. We now feel unsafe to leave, but if I’m forced to remain in Rayburn House, I’m going to have to assume that the U.S. government actually wanted us herded here for some reason. And, if that’s the case, I’m going to have to be offended on behalf of every A-C on the planet. And for those not on the planet as well.”

“We are, of course, horrified to hear of this attack, and relieved that all of you seem unharmed,” the President said. “However, the United States government had no hand in the car bombing.”

Chuckie scribbled something down and handed it to me.

“That’s nice to hear. However, until the bombing is investigated—by the F.B.I., I presume, though I would prefer that the P.T.C.U. be the investigating agency, and that is an official, diplomatic request—there’s no proof of that, is there? And it’s going to take them more than five minutes to examine the remains of the car. In the meantime, we are literally trapped in Rayburn House. I’m requesting assistance to get us safely home to our Embassy.”

“We can request a police escort,” a different, somewhat familiar voice said. Chuckie scribbled again. Aha, Langston Whitmore, the Secretary of Transportation, was the speaker.

“Secretary Whitmore, terrorists are not the police department’s bailiwick. They belong to the C.I.A., but even more so, they belong to the Presidential Terrorism Control Unit. Now, let me be very clear. At this moment, I have two royal emissaries from the most warlike planet in the Alpha Centauri system waiting at the American Centaurion Embassy. They are not overly clear on much, other than that the one person on this planet they are to obey without question happens to be me. Now, I’d like someone there to, perhaps, brief you on just what one woman from Beta Twelve is capable of. We’ll wait.”

“Hello Ambassador Katt-Martini, it’s Colonel Franklin.”

I liked Franklin a lot, and I wanted to be very sure that everyone else in the room knew I liked Franklin a lot. “Arthur, how are you? It’s been too long since we’ve had a visit.”

Chuckie grinned and nodded.

“I’m well, and concerned for your safety. I can assure the rest of those present that just one Beta Twelve warrior would be capable of destroying a battalion, particularly if armed with a battle staff.”

“They never go out without them.” Had no clue if Rahmi and Rhee were packing battle staffs or not, but that wasn’t important now.

“Two of them, therefore, would present a very real threat to U.S. security,” Franklin said.

Chuckie looked at me sharply. Not to worry, I knew where this was going.

“Oh, did I give the impression the two princesses were here for any kind of military action? I’m so sorry, Arthur, but not to worry. They’re here to help celebrate my daughter’s first birthday. It’s a huge event in the Alpha Centauri system, particularly for Alpha Four and Beta Twelve. In order to keep a low profile, only the princesses have come. At this time.

“However, as I’m sure you can understand, I have very royal guests who are, by now, concerned about my welfare. They’re young, and headstrong, and probably aren’t nearly as well-trained in diplomacy as their mother, the queen, would like. It wouldn’t surprise me if they felt it was incumbent upon them to come and rescue me from this situation, perhaps to show how dedicated they and the other Alpha Centauri planets are to those from that system who live on Earth. And that would be bad for relations, don’t you agree?”

“Absolutely,” Franklin said. “And I’m assuming you’re requesting the assistance of the P.T.C.U. because a military escort could give the wrong impression?”

Changed my mind. I didn’t like Franklin; I loved him. “Exactly, Arthur. But we do want to give our statements to someone who can actually act on them. Again, we all know it’s unlikely to be the police. And all of us were thrown by the blast—we all need to be examined by our Embassy Physician. The sooner the better.”

“Ambassador,” Whitmore said, “are you sure you’re not requesting the P.T.C.U. simply because you want your mother to come and fix everything for you?”

The jaws of all the men in the room dropped. Yeah, I was also impressed with Whitmore’s balls or lunacy, take your pick. Unfortunately for him, I knew a lot about him, potentially more than he realized, and I got this kind of crap from Hacker International all the time.

“Secretary Whitmore, while I’m fully aware that you have a host of unresolved and subjugated Mommy Issues, I’m not pretending to be anything I’m not. That my mother happens to be the most competent woman—and potentially the most competent staff member, period—that the President has working for him is something I’m quite proud of. That you’re clearly intimidated by strong women says much more about your character, or lack thereof, than anything about either me or my mother.”

“I beg your pardon—” Whitmore started angrily.

“My pardon for your insult is not given, Secretary Whitmore. In fact, I expect an apology, immediately. Or I’m afraid I’m going to have to take your insinuations as an unfriendly act.”

Jeff was grinning. Chuckie looked amused in the way he always did when I was doing exactly what he expected and wanted me to do. Cliff looked impressed. Hoped Mom shared their opinions. Oliver, of course, looked like he was holding a winning lottery ticket.

“Apologize. Now.” The President didn’t sound like he was asking.

“I apologize, Ambassador, for my careless and thoughtless remarks.” Whitmore sounded like his teeth were clenched. Figured they probably were.

“We’ll have a full team from the P.T.C.U. over to you in just a few minutes, Ambassador,” the President said. “Including the Head of the Unit. Again, we want to stress that the United States government neither ordered nor condones any attacks on anyone attached to American Centaurion or Centaurion Division or those who work closely with Centaurion.”

“We feel confident that you, Mister President, along with Colonel Franklin and the P.T.C.U., are working for and with us. And thank you for your support.”

“We’ll be to you shortly, Ambassador,” Mom said.

“We’ll be waiting.”

We both hung up.

Jeff was still grinning. “I told you you’d be great at this job.”

“It’s growing on me, I have to admit.”

“Well,” Cliff said. “That was . . . the most high-powered call I’ve ever been a part of. I really hope I have a job tomorrow.”

“You will. Or else I’ll get that Unfriendly Act Feeling again.”

Cliff shook his head. “I’m amazed Secretary Whitmore was that aggressive with you, especially in that setting. You handled it really well.”

I shrugged. “As Wolverine would say, ‘These claws? They’re adamantium, bub. I only pull ’em out for show. Or, you know, to stick ’em in someone who bothers me.’ And Whitmore bothers me.”

Chuckie laughed. “And the lesson is, as it always is—never, ever piss off the comics-geek girl.”