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I got a fu
He looked straight at me, and I could tell how much he hated what he had to say to me. “To pass judgment on whether or not you’re appropriate royal marriage material.”
The room went quiet. Then Reader laughed. “So what? You’re not going back there, what do you care what they think of Kitty?”
I looked at the A-Cs and thought about the PPB net. “They wanted you kept here, to the point they put up the barrier. We have no idea of how closely they’re monitoring us. Could be minor, or we could be scrutinized under an A-C microscope daily; again, we don’t know. So that means we don’t know if they can or can’t force Jeff, or Christopher, to do whatever they want.”
Martini nodded. “That’s what my father’s afraid of.”
Chuckie cleared his throat. “Okay, then that makes it official. I’m in charge of Centaurion Division until further notice. Alpha Team will be reporting directly to me, and all activities will have to be approved by me before being put into action.”
A-Cs normally went very quiet when they were thinking. But when they were upset . . . not so much. The room erupted. Everyone was shouting, snarling, arguing. Chuckie ignored it. He leaned over to me. “You want to get them under control? Before I lock them up?”
I looked at Martini and caught his eye. He stopped in midargument with White. I raised my eyebrow. “SHUT UP!” Ah, the Martini bellow—perfect for stopping hysterics, starting avalanches, and causing windows within a mile radius to rattle.
“Thanks,” Chuckie said. “Let me make this clear. You didn’t have a choice in the first place. As the C.I.A. feared, we have hostile visitors from space coming. As the C.I.A. is relieved to learn, our own aliens did not intentionally call them over for a visit. As I see I will have to explain, the best thing in the world for Centaurion Division right now is for all of you lovely people who are unable to lie to be able to admit, truthfully, that you are not the ones giving the orders.”
He and Martini were having a staring contest. They both looked angry, and they both looked as if they weren’t going to back down for hours, if ever.
“Jeff, he’s right.”
Martini didn’t blink or look away from Chuckie. “How so?”
“You can’t lie. We’re about to be invaded, and you, Christopher, Richard, probably Paul, all your families, are all going to be put into compromising positions. We don’t know if this is a legitimate visit or an excuse for invasion. And if you’re put into a position where someone from the home world gives you an order they expect you to take to the rest of the A-C population, the only thing you may be able to use to refuse is the fact that you don’t make the final decisions.”
Chuckie was also still staring Martini down, and he shrugged. “She’s right. You don’t have to like it. But by the original agreements your people signed when the United States government agreed to house you here as displaced refugees, you have to agree, or you have to vacate.”
“We’re not in a state of emergency.”
Chuckie barked a laugh. “Like hell. You said it earlier and even if you hadn’t, it’s obvious. Best case scenario is they come and approve Kitty, and we have to do a massive cover-up. That would make our lives hell, and that would be the easy scenario. But let’s be honest—no one thinks that’s what’s going to happen, least of all you.”
Martini deflated a bit. “Fine. However, once the state of emergency abates, sovereignty reverts back to the Pontifex.”
“Yes.”
“Define, clearly, when the C.I.A. will consider the state of emergency abated.” I wasn’t C.I.A., but I’d been a marketing manager before I’d joined Centaurion, and I knew the dangers of doublespeak better than most.
Chuckie looked away from Martini and gri
“I want it in writing, and I’ll be going over it for loopholes.”
He laughed. “Not a problem.” He looked back at Martini. “Okay?”
“No, but we’ll deal with it. Officially, Centaurion unwillingly concedes the C.I.A.’s limited authority during a time of interworld crisis.”
“And unofficially?” Chuckie sounded supportive, not challenging.
Martini closed his eyes. “Unofficially,” he opened his eyes, “help us. Please.”
Chuckie nodded and stood up. “Unofficially, I may want to marry her, but she wants to marry you. So, yeah, let’s get that taken care of.” He walked over to where Martini was standing. Christopher joined them.
It was always interesting to me to do a physical comparison. Martini was big, well over six feet, broad-shouldered, built like a brick house, rippling muscles without being overdone like a bodybuilder. Of course, I couldn’t see all that right now, but I had his naked body happily memorized. His hair was dark and wavy and his eyes were light brown.
Christopher was a head shorter, smaller all the way around, the lean and wiry kind. Straight, lighter brown hair and green eyes. As Chuckie had mentioned at our high school reunion, Christopher was actually more the type I’d always gone for in school.
Chuckie was like a blend of the two of them. Tall like Martini, but more along Christopher’s build, sinewy and smooth. He moved casually but had the reflexes to make you think he could be part A-C. Dirty blond hair, which would have a bit of a wave in it if he’d let it grow long, and blue eyes.
All of them were good-looking, but though Chuckie was handsome by human standards, only Reader and a couple of other human agents had a shot of passing as an A-C in the looks department, after all.
Normally I enjoyed looking at any of them, Martini in particular. But tonight I got a bad feeling, seeing them standing there together. Martini caught it and looked at me. “What’s wrong?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. But I think we’d better be prepared for the worst. Whatever that’s going to end up being.”
Before we’d met ACE, Martini had implanted a portion of Christopher’s mother’s consciousness into me. It was only a trace, but I’d liked having it there, liked being able to co
If Terry had still been inside my mind, I’d assume the nameless dread I was feeling was coming from her. Since that couldn’t be, I had to assume what Martini called my feminine intuition was picking up something. Either that or I just needed a nap.
Reader got up and went over to the other three. “Look, how do you want us to get things rolling? Sitting around isn’t getting the troops prepared.”
Same size as Christopher, pretty much. Most gorgeous human I’d ever laid eyes on in the flesh. Our joke was that if he were straight, we’d run off, get married, and forget there were aliens on the Earth.
It occurred to me that I was looking at four men who’d achieved the top levels early in life. Martini was the strongest empath on Earth, and Christopher was the best imageer; Chuckie was the smartest guy in any room, and Reader had been the top international male model for years. There was a lot of drive and talent there, and the rest of us weren’t slouches, either. I relaxed, feeling confident we’d be able to handle whatever was coming.
The dread hit me, harder. I looked over at Paul. He looked sort of glazed. I tried thinking in my mind, the way I had with ACE in the past. ACE, are you there?
Yes, Kitty, ACE is here.
What’s wrong?
Terry wishes ACE to warn Kitty. His mental voice sounded upset. ACE’s prime directive was to protect, but he also knew doing everything for us would destroy us and turn him into a despot. Which meant I had to help him settle this in his consciousness, or he was going to short out and take Paul with him.