Camp Alien (17 page)

“Y
OU DRIVE ME CRAZY,”
I said to the hamper. “But I appreciate the hints. I think. I do appreciate that I'll see you at the White House.”

Got up and looked around the closet. Didn't see anything that indicated I should pick it up, so headed out of the apartment and to the elevator.

Went down to the third floor and into the daycare center. Jamie knew I was here, of course—she'd always had an uncanny ability to know when people she loved were nearby, and with ACE inside of her, that ability was strengthened.

ACE had been created by Alpha Four to keep the A-Cs, Jeff in particular, on Earth. We'd discovered him, and I'd originally filtered ACE into Gower during Operation Drug Addict. But due to what ACE had done to protect Earth during Operation Destruction, he'd been pulled away to face whatever kind of trial a superconsciousness could face.

Naomi Gower-Reynolds had saved ACE at the same time as she was sacrificing herself and becoming a superconsciousness of her own. ACE, Algar, and I were the only ones who knew that Naomi was still alive, though not in any earthly sense of the word, at least insofar as I could tell. Had my suspicions that Jamie knew, too, but actively chose not to ask.

Since returning to us, ACE had been housed inside of Jamie, which was protection for both of them. The downside was that I couldn't just chat with ACE like I had in the old days. Now, I had to wait for Jamie to be asleep, and it didn't hurt if I was asleep, also. So, these days, my chats with ACE tended to be kind of freaky, which was really par for my particular course.

However, Algar's veiled warning or not, I wasn't here to chat with ACE. I was here to get my kids.

Jamie ran over, arms outstretched for hugs, and I grabbed her, picked her up, and hugged her tightly while giving her plenty of kisses. Shoved any thoughts of bad things away—Jamie was easily as sensitive as Jeff, possibly more so, and I didn't need her worried about fake mothers and robots blowing up. Sure, she had powerful blocks installed in her mind by both Jeff and Christopher, but I wasn't positive that she kept them up all the time.

The next to hit me were the animals, of which we had a tonnage. In addition to my parents' three cats and four dogs—all of whom probably now considered themselves to belong to Jamie—we also had any unattached Poofs not on duty, any available Peregrines, and all the ocellars and chochos, the Beta Eight foxcats and pigdogs we'd brought back with us at the end of Operation Civil War.

The ocellars were a rusty orange color, with some blacks, browns, and yellows for highlights. They had elongated, pointy ears and extremely bright blue eyes, looked a little foxy and a lot like caracals, but in the same way that the Peregrines looked a lot like peacocks—similar and yet stronger, a lot more human-level intelligent, and just a little more alien. Ocellars were the same size as Peregrines without the tail-feathers.

Chochos, on the other hand, were about the size of an extra-large German Shepherd but with noses that were more squat and broad than elongated, long claws on their paws, tusks that stuck out just like a boar's, bristles instead of whiskers, and curlicue tails. They looked dorky but in a totally cute way.

The alien animals did time on the first floor of the Zoo whenever we did open viewings of our own personal Galactic Menagerie. However, things being what they were, we hadn't had the Zoo open for a couple of weeks now. And whenever they weren't on exhibit, the animals slept in our rooms or were at daycare with Jamie.

The realization that I was going to be bringing an entire alien petting zoo into the White House hit me. There was no way my children were going to accept that the animals weren't moving with us. Frankly, the animals weren't going to accept it, either.

Decided I'd worry about that later as I petted every
furred or feathered body that I could reach. After all, there had to be some upside to the FLOTUS gig, and if my mark on the White House was going to be really fantastic luxury kennels, then so be it.

“You're here a little early,” Denise said cheerfully as she joined us and the other daycare kids came over for hugs. “Charlie's still napping.”

Checked my watch as I put Jamie down. We were indeed now into later afternoon. Early to get the kids for dinner, but, under the circumstances, that worked for me because I had no intention of going back to the White House any sooner than I had to. “Well, I can probably get him and keep him asleep.”

Enjoyed hugging all the kids. Wasn't looking forward to having to ask permission to visit now, nor the idea that I'd be dragging along a million security personnel. Of course, I'd managed to leave all my Secret Service detail in the White House for most of the afternoon while I'd been elsewhere, so perhaps I was worried for nothing.

“Oh,” Denise said, “Jeff called and asked me to remind you that you're needed back at the White House and can't hide out here.”

“I need a new husband.”

She shook her head. “Chuck sent me a text saying the same thing as Jeff. So I think you're out of luck on your options.”

“Thanks, traitor.”

Jamie looked up at me. “You're funny, Mommy. You know Missus Lewis isn't a traitor.”

“That's true, I do, and you're right, I was teasing her.” Chucked Jamie under her chin. “Shall we get your brother? All our things are moved into the new house where we're going to live for a while, and I can't wait for you to see your room.”

Instead of excited, which I'd expected, Jamie looked worried. “Where is Lizzie going to stay?”

Interesting. Well, it wasn't like it was going to be a secret. “Lizzie has a room at our new house, too, right down the hall from you.”

“Yay!” Jamie jumped up and down and clapped her hands. “Lizzie's going to stay with us forever!”

Denise and I exchanged another look. Denise knelt
down and hugged Jamie gently around her shoulders. “You know that Lizzie's daddy won't want her to live with someone else forever.”

“Oh, he can live with us, too,” Jamie said. “I like Uncle Benjamin. He's neat.”

“Yes, he is. So, let's get Charlie and go downstairs. King Benny is here, too.”

At this all the kids gasped, even Raymond, who at ten was the eldest in our school and daycare combo. All the kids had met the Planetary Council, and while they seemed to like everyone and were very interested in Rohini and Bettini, the other Shantanu in the Council, King Benny was definitely the Daycare Favorite. As a giant walking otter, his Cuteness Level started at eleven.

“Can we go see him, please, Mommy?” Rachel begged, clearly speaking for all the kids.

Denise looked at me and raised her eyebrow questioningly.

Pulled out my phone and sent a text to Len, asking him to get the A-Cs assigned to Animal Duty revved up and ready to transport. “Sure, why not? Pierre has special, dinner-ruining treats in the kitchen, too.”

“Oh, good.” Denise laughed. “Hopefully you mean Lucinda's brownies.”

“I do, indeed, and the grown-ups need a treat, too.” I mean, I'd only had a few brownies and hadn't even finished my milk. I was still hungry. “Ah, Pierre says that they'll come up to us, so let's get ready for Special Snack Time.”

While Denise got the kids in order, I went and got Charlie. To find Wilbur, my personal chocho, curled up next to Charlie's crib. This wasn't a surprise, really. Wilbur adored Charlie, and if Charlie wasn't with me or Jeff, Wilbur was right by his side.

Patted Wilbur. “What a good chocho you are.”

Wilbur honk-barked very softly to share that I was the greatest and that he was on the guarding case and all things were secure in the baby sleep chamber.

Charlie was indeed still asleep, clutching his Poof, and looked angelic, as children do when they're sleeping. Even though human genetics were supposedly always dominant in hybrid children, and Jamie did look pretty much exactly like me, I could really see Jeff in Charlie.

Stroked his hair, then I lifted him and his Poof up into my arms. The Poof grumbled a little, but Charlie stayed asleep, though he did nestle his head into my neck.

“Come on, Wilbur,” I whispered. “We're going on a trip.” Wilbur got up and trotted happily at my heels.

All the kids had their own Poofs, and most of the families of our Embassy Daycare Kids had their own Peregrines now. The ocellars and chochos hadn't gone forth and multiplied enough to ensure that everyone had their own foxcat or pigdog yet, but that seemed to be just a matter of time.

The kids were in a semicircle on the floor, all looking expectant. Other than Jamie, who was getting her things ready to go, meaning getting all the animals prepped for departure. This wasn't something that a little girl of four and a half would normally be in charge of, but Jamie was as effective with the animals as I was. Wasn't sure if this meant she had my Dr. Doolittle talent or if she just loved the animals so much that they wanted to do whatever to please her, but the outcome was that they all behaved like well-trained animal citizens for her.

“When did he go down?” I asked Denise softly, as Jamie got the cats and Poofs into their luxury carrier on wheels, aka the Feline Winnebago.

“Late, so don't worry. He was really using his talents today.” She looked a little worried. “He lifted Dudley.”

Dudley was our Great Dane and therefore the largest animal we had, since he was even bigger than the chochos.

“Wow. Is Dudley okay?”

“Yes, as are the other animals. He, ah, did the animals in order of their weight. He started with the cats, then the ocellars, then Duchess, Dottie, and Duke, then the chochos, and then Dudley.”

Duchess was our pit bull, Dottie our Dalmatian, and Duke was our Labrador. Duke might have been close to the chochos in weight, but I had a feeling that Charlie was being far more accurate than was good for anyone's peace of mind.

“Um . . .”

“Yeah.” Denise shrugged. “The animals didn't seem to mind . . . too much. And Wilbur loved it.”

“I think Wilbur is genetically disposed to love anything Charlie wants to do, potentially ever.”

She laughed as Len, Kyle, Lizzie, Pierre, King Benny, four gigantic platters of brownies, and three gallons of milk arrived.

The kids were all great and waited until the new arrivals had put the food down on the lunch tables. Then they all sort of mobbed King Benny.

It reminded me of when Jeff and Christopher and I had arrived at Martini Manor during Operation Drug Addict and the kids had spotted them. King Benny was doing what Jeff had—picking the kids up, hugging them, tossing them carefully in the air and catching them. Got a sad, misty feeling—Stephanie had been there and she'd mobbed her uncles, too. Right before she'd shared with me that Jeff and I would never be allowed to be married.

She'd been fifteen then, and even though she'd been a little too old for the mob scene she'd still participated willingly.

And now? Now she'd spit at Jeff and Christopher before she'd hug them. Which was, all things considered, odd. Because she had me to blame for everything. So why hate on her beloved uncles when a convenient scapegoat was right there? Why desert her entire family? It was the rare A-C who could or would do that willingly. I could only come up with a handful.

My brain nudged while I ate another brownie and watched the kids and King Benny have such a nice time. Algar had said I should be focused on camping, which I hated. But if I thought about all that had gone on today, the Kitty-Bot had come from Camp David, where a peace treaty meeting was supposed to be happening.

But we'd captured the Kitty-Bot, so why would Camp David matter in the same way now?

Answered my own mental question—because Algar had said that other enemies would be striking while Cliff was weak. As in more than one. And I doubted he meant them as a group, per se, because Algar enjoyed giving fiddly little clues based on music, lyrics, and wordplay.

As in and as always, there was more than one plan going on.

So maybe the question was—which plan was Stephanie in on?

W
HILE THE KIDS
enjoyed King Benny and Jamie excitedly shared with Lizzie that Lizzie would be lucky enough to be living with us forever and ever and Lizzie managed to feign excitement about this, I sent a text to Amy.

I was sort of surprised that the response I got was that she, Christopher, the baby, and my dad came down to the daycare center along with about half of the Field teams that had been assigned to Amy's protective detail. Dad was holding Becky, and I had the distinct impression that he and my mother had totally claimed the Maternal Grandparent Rights, for which I was happy and not jealous.

Amy's father had murdered her mother. Chuckie had known this for a long time but Amy and I hadn't. What we had known was that her mother's body had barely been in the ground before her father had married his secretary—who happened to be LaRue Demorte, Ancient Turncoat to the Stars.

Herbert Gaultier had been the Big Bad behind Operation Confusion, when Jamie had been born. Christopher had had to kill him, in fact, to stop him from killing Amy and the rest of us, too. Fortunately, Amy was so appalled by what her father had become that this was merely part of their courtship ritual.

My parents had stepped in and, since Amy had been my friend since ninth grade, become her second set of parents. This worked out well because Christopher's mother, Terry, had been murdered by the Yates-Mephistopheles in-control superbeing when he and Jeff were ten, so Alfred and
Lucinda felt they were Christopher's second set of parents. Basically, White had to fend off my parents and Jeff's both in order to get to spend time with his grandchild. He seemed okay with it, at least so far, though Becky was only a week old, so time would tell.

King Benny and Denise made much over Becky while Amy pulled me and Christopher aside. “Okay, I want all the details and I want them now,” Amy said without any preamble.

“You should be upstairs, resting,” Christopher countered, shooting Patented Glare #1 at me. Christopher was the unquestioned Glaring Champion of the World, and I figured he needed to keep in practice, since he'd spent most of this past week smiling at his first child.

Amy snorted. “As if. Kitty was embroiled with saving the world before Jamie was hours old. By that standard, we're slackers. I've had over a week of relaxed new mother time, and while I'm all for extending that, I'm not willing to let our enemies destroy us simply because you think I'm a delicate freaking flower.”

Amy didn't actually look like a wilting flower. She'd had a very good birth—fast, since A-C babies came fast—and without complications, so totally unlike mine with Jamie. What she hadn't done was mutate like I had, so while she still looked great, she wasn't back to a prepregnancy state. Close, though, so I wondered if she might have a mutation that was slower to arrive.

Christopher had shot himself up to the max with Surcenthumain, and the Surcenthumain in Jeff's bloodstream was what had affected me when Jamie was in utero. The expectation was that Amy would have mutated like I had, but so far, other than looking really good, she didn't look like anything else had changed, and the doctors said that nothing had. Meaning that was a worry for another day.

“That's my girl, Ames. And Christopher, chill. Frankly, the last thing we want is to give anyone a chance at Amy. However, forewarned is forearmed, and all that sort of blah, blah, blah.” Did my Recap Girl thing again and caught them up on all I knew. “You two now know more than Jeff and Chuckie do, so do me a solid and come up with ideas and action plans so that I can look like a winner when I share this with them.”

Amy nodded slowly. “You're sure that there's more than one plan going on?”

“There always is,” Christopher replied. “So that's always the safe bet.”

“Exactly. Meaning, it would help to determine what the plans are or who's running what or similar.”

Amy cocked her head. “Do you think that Villanova is the one who triggered the Kitty-Bot?”

“I think that's part of what we should probably call the Strauss Initiative, so yes.”

“What about Janelle?” Amy asked. “Do you think there being a robot version of her is part of the same plan?”

“Not sure,” I admitted.

“I'd think it is,” Christopher said slowly. “Because of what you mentioned when you filled us in—Eugene was triggered into action via a robots take over people plan.”

“Yeah, we'd thought that was a ruse, but if it wasn't, then Strauss had this going even during the Sith Apprentice Tryouts that were Operation Sherlock.”

“That makes sense,” Amy said. “I mean, who's to say there's only one Sith?”

“There are always two,” I said automatically. “The Master and the Apprentice.”

“You spend too much time with the hackers.” Amy shook her head. “That's not what I meant. I mean—who's to say that there weren't two Masters?”

Christopher and I stared at her. “Ah, what?” he asked finally.

She rolled her eyes. “Come on, you guys. Kitty, this is normally your side of things. I'm suggesting that Monica Strauss was never working with Cliff Goodman, or if she was, she was faking him out. I think she was a Mastermind in her own right—the robot stuff makes it likely. And you've said how Ronald Yates was sleeping with anything that moved. So, maybe he slept with her early, she found out what was going on, and she distanced herself from Reid and Cliff and the others, but took what she could use from Yates and ran with it.”

“But we never had her on radar all this time,” Christopher said after a few moments of shocked silence. “We didn't even distrust her until the other Kitty made it clear that she suspected Strauss of being anti-alien.”

“So what? Cliff had his crazy one-sided fight going on with Chuck. He probably could have taken over easily if he hadn't been so bent on playing a chess game that Chuck wasn't even aware he was involved with. Maybe Strauss didn't have anyone she was trying to screw over, and she just wanted to get to become the President without ever having to be elected.”

“Ames, you're on fire. Clearly having a baby was great for you. That makes sense, a ton of sense. Meaning that Villanova was always doing the double agent thing for Strauss.”

Amy shrugged. “Just like Camilla does for us.”

“Cliff was always looking for our double agents . . .” Had to formulate what I was thinking into coherent words.

“What?” Amy said after a few seconds. “I know that look.”

“What if Cliff figured out that Strauss was about to make her Mastermind move? Maybe that's why he rolled Operation Epidemic when he did—because we'd not only given him a great patsy in the Planetary Council, but if he didn't kill her in a way that didn't look suspicious, then she'd win.”

“That means the action at Camp David was key,” Christopher said. “Because that's where the Kitty-Bot was waiting.”

“Meaning what?” Amy asked. “The Kitty-Bot's been captured. That plan is over now, right?”

“No, I don't think so.” And not just because Algar had told me I had to go camping. “They've been doing their level best for years to keep you out of Gaultier and off the Board, and all of a sudden it's your rightful place? That's to get you alone and turn you into a robot. For all we know, they have the Amy-Bot ready to go and are just waiting to do the switch when you and Gardiner are in the same room.”

“Sounds like Ansom,” Amy said. “He's all about getting things to do double-duty. But that doesn't indicate they're following Strauss' plan.”

“How did they get the robot schematics?”

“She might have given them to several people,” Christopher said. “After all, Eugene had them, and he'd gotten them from Pia Ryan.”

“Who'd gotten them from Marion Villanova, most likely. Meaning that I think we're safe for right now to assume that
anyone working on the Stepford Wives Plan is working the plan Strauss had going in some way.”

“Meaning that we're still out the person who took the helicarrier and our people.” Christopher shot Patented Glare #4 at the room in general.

A large number of A-Cs who'd drawn the short straws appeared and got the dogs, chochos, and ocellars onto leashes, because we all kept up the fiction that the animals behaved when semi-restrained.

Watched the kids while this was going on. They were still all about the King Benny Experience and were admiring Becky along with him. None of them felt the need to break off to exchange withering banter with an adult, not even Lizzie, who was about the age Stephanie had been during Operation Drug Addict.

Lizzie was so different from Stephanie, though, and not just because she was a human. In some ways she and Stephanie were alike, of course. But not in the ways that mattered most.

My brain nudged, rather insistently. “You know what? We need to get over to the White House pronto, because I think I need to share a theory with our core team. And I need to do it fast.”