CHAPTER 24
UNDER THE CIRCUMSTANCES, speed was of the essence, and that meant elevators were too slow. Lorraine called for more A-Cs, who arrived in a moment. Apologized to Mickey and Garfield in advance as the A-Cs picked up the dogs, then the rest of us linked up and we all hypersped off to the entrance into Caliente Base. We were outside in the Arizona heat fast. Wished I’d had the foresight to put on extra sunscreen but since I hadn’t, just hoped that what I wore on a regular basis back in D.C. would suffice. It never had before, but hope liked to spring eternal.
Unlike Dulce and most of the other A-C bases that all had a “ground floor” that made the building look mundane, Caliente technically started underground, with a wide tunnel that led into what looked like a low hill, which was the top level of the Base. The way in and out was camouflaged—not all that artfully hidden, really, but the entrance was just in the right spot to be missed if you weren’t looking exactly right. And I was sure there was some cloaking going on as well. Chuckie and I had searched in this area for years when we were teenagers, looking for signs of aliens. Well, he’d searched and I and our family’s dogs had gone along for the ride. But we’d never found anything.
The Turleens seemed to know where the entrance was, however, since they were massed around it, still looking expectant. Their ability to see through cloaking that no human nor a wide variety of other aliens could see through seemed proven.
Reached the others just as Reader was about to make first or, since I had Muddy with me, second contact. Stopped in between him and the Turleens. Lorraine and Claudia wisely stopped a bit away in a decent patch of shade so that Mickey and Garfield didn’t barf on our newest visitors. The dogs stayed with them, in a communal barfing pack. The dogs weren’t stupid, and shade was the best thing in the world in Arizona in the summertime.
Took a look around. “Where’s Siler and Manfred?”
“No idea,” Reader said. “I thought they were with you.”
Managed not to curse as a new race’s first introduction to us, but it was a near thing. “Malcolm, Kevin, take some Field agents and find them. The two guys with them are Club Fifty-One True Believers.”
They didn’t argue or ask if I was sure, just nodded and took off. Turned back to the Turleens, noting that Muddy wasn’t puking. Interesting. Wondered if they had hyperspeed and figured we’d find out. Up close I realized many of them weren’t green—some were yellow, yellow-green, and green-yellow, which Crayola had taught me were two very different colors. All neon, though.
Was about to say hello when Muddy stepped forward and raised his hands. The rest of his people all came to what really looked like military attention. “My fellow Turleens, I rejoice to share that we have been granted an audience!”
The Turleens patted themselves on their backs. Literally. Hands up over their shoulders, patting away. Based on the sound this made—metallic bongo drums—realized that what they were doing was banging on their shells. Presumed this was how this race applauded and decided to roll with it. Wondered how hot this felt to them, or if they were like the A-Cs and considered Arizona’s summer weather to be pleasant-to-cool.
The back patting stopped. Muddy, arms still raised, spoke again. “Now we plead our case for asylum!”
More weird bongo drumming. Wondered when he’d get around to saying my name. Realized I hadn’t actually given it to him. Figured it would be part of their introduction ceremony, whatever it was.
Muddy’s hand were still up. “My fellow Turleens, I give you . . . the Queen of the World!” With that, he spun toward me and flipped his arms down in a very I Am Your Loyal Subject manner, accompanied by the most enthusiastic back patting yet from the rest of the crowd.
The realization that being called Code Name: First Lady wasn’t nearly as bad as being called the Queen of the World hit me. Took a look around, just in case actual royalty had arrived. It hadn’t. Then again, Jeff was, technically, actual royalty, and I was his wife. Had a horrible feeling about where all this was going and that at least half of my diplomatic tour would be spent explaining that no one in the U.S. actually thought I was the queen of anything, let alone the world.
Checked out Alpha Team’s expressions. Claudia and Lorraine were trying not to laugh. Reader and Tim appeared to be weighing the benefits and risks of laughing while trying to also look official and in charge, with limited success. Expanded to the perusal of my team. Everyone else looked shocked or, in the cases of the working girls and homeless men, impressed. At least I had five people who were finding this awesome.
Turned back to Muddy. “Ah . . . thank you?”
He straightened up. As he did so, the rest of the Turleens all stopped banging their shells and now did their salaams to me. Found this incredibly unnerving and prayed there were no news helicopters or such nearby.
“No,” Muddy said once the others were all bent over in supplication, “it is we who thank you. We have come to beg for your assistance. Assistance we know you have given to many.”
Couldn’t deny that one, standing at the entrance to an A-C base, so I didn’t try. “Um, you do know that the decision isn’t only up to me, right?”
“You are the Queen of the World. Of course the decision is up to you.” Muddy didn’t sound like he doubted this. I found this complete faith in my assumed role suspicious, especially since it was clear that he and his people had been observing us for quite some time.
Leaned down and spoke quietly so, hopefully, only he would hear. “You’re all running from something really terrifying, aren’t you? So terrifying that you’re willing to do just about anything to get protection. Including pretending to be completely naïve as to who’s in charge of what and where. And I’m not buying it.”
Straightened up, and stared at him.
To his credit, he stared back. However, he wasn’t Mom and he wasn’t Chuckie and, to date, only those two had ever been able to outstare me, and even Chuckie couldn’t do it all of the time.
Muddy was a fine stare opponent, but in the end, he blinked first. “You’re right,” he said softly. “We have observed your planet for centuries. Some of us have visited over the years, as well, pretending to be one of your Earth animals. We don’t stay too long, but we enjoy your planet. However, mass exodus has never been considered.”
“Until now.”
He nodded. “Until now.”
“There are others on their way here, too, did you know that?”
“Yes. They flee what we flee.”
Always nice to be right. I’d share that with Buchanan whenever he finally returned. “Just what are you fleeing?”
“The Aicirtap.”
Spun toward Reader and motioned for Muddy to come closer, which he did. Tim did as well, so we were in a small huddle. “You hear any of that?”
Reader now looked grim, so his answer wasn’t a surprise. “All of it, girlfriend, I know when to eavesdrop. The question is—do we believe what we’ve been told?”
“Six ships headed this way give some credence.”
“What do the Aicirtap look like and where are they from?” Reader asked Muddy.
Muddy sort of scrunched up his face, so I assumed he was trying to come up with a description we’d understand. “I believe you would see them as large beetles. They are about his size.” He pointed to Kyle. Which was not good, because Kyle was a big guy. “Only broader.”
“Fantastic. It really is Starship Troopers. And they’re from?”
“The system you call Tau Ceti.”
“So in our ‘neighborhood’ but not as close as your system or Alpha Centauri.”
Muddy nodded. “They have spaceflight, but not as we do. More as the others do.”
“You fly through space just the way you landed here, wrapped up in your own shells?”
Muddy beamed. “It has been said that you have understanding beyond others. Yes, our shells encircle us and allow us to hibernate while traveling through space.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere, but keep it up, I love it.” Considered what he had and hadn’t said when we’d been under the conference table together. “So, here’s a question. My first thought was that these Aicirtap were from your planet or system, based on how you talked about the other sentient life there. But you say they’re from Tau Ceti, not Sirius. So . . . who on Tur and in the rest of the Sirius system are you Turleens not fond of?”
Muddy looked surprised by this question. “We do not dislike the other races on our planet or in our system. However, we do not agree with them, either.”
“Agree with them about what?”
“About uplift. The Z’porrah came to Tur and said they would uplift us. We Turleens did not accept their help. We are aligned with the Old Ones.”
“And they just let you say thanks but no thanks and didn’t try to destroy or enslave you?” Tim asked, sounding as if he believed this as much as he believed in the Tooth Fairy.
“Well, we might have said that we would eagerly consider their offer and then have pretended not to remember the offer.”
“I think I get how your people work,” Reader said. “But they didn’t come back for your answer?”
“They moved on to the rest of the sentient races in our system. Despite the example, most seem to be considering taking the Z’porrah’s offer. Meaning we Turleens will be surrounded by enemies who used to be friends.”
“Why are you against the Z’porrah’s offer, Old Ones alignment or no?” Really hoped the Old Ones Muddy meant were the Ancients, not Cthulhu and his pals, but I took nothing for granted these days.
“Because we saw what happened with the Aicirtap. They used to be very calm and loving, happy in their world, and welcoming to other races. We used to have trade with them. But when the Z’porrah came to them not with war but with supposed peace, the Aicirtap allowed them to state their case. They were eager for uplift, excited about the possibilities. But their uplift went wrong. Perhaps not wrong as the Z’porrah intended, but wrong for what the Aicirtap expected. They tripled in size, ferocity, and hunger. The Aicirtap were peaceful and loving once. They are no more.”
“That sounds horrible,” Tim said.
“It was, and it is. We Turleens cannot allow it—to be turned into monstrous versions of ourselves. But the other races in our system . . .” He spread his hands. “They believe that the Aicirtap wanted to become as they are now, and believe it will not happen to them.”
“Okay, so the Aicirtap are warlike and such now. But why are so many fleeing? And, from what we know, also fleeing from systems that are on the ‘other side’ of Tau Ceti from where Earth is?”
Muddy shuddered. “They eat us. They eat everyone.”
“All the Turleens?”
“Yes. But not just us. Everyone. They will eat anything and they will nest in anything they cannot eat. They are voracious and vicious and they are spreading out throughout the galaxy. They must be stopped. And we are not equipped to stop them.”
“Aliens and Starship Troopers combined. Does it get any better than this? And how is it you think Earth is better equipped to handle this than your system? Why in the world do you think we’re the planet to run to?” Why did everyone think we were the planet to run to? It truly couldn’t just be because of me.
“You’ve repelled the Z’porrah,” he said as if this answered everything. Knew that it probably did, so didn’t choose to argue. “You have repelled them more than once, you have dethroned an emperor, you have stopped a systemwide civil war, and you are a God.” Okay, apparently, it was just because of me. “We wish to align with you, because the Aicirtap are deadly and they have aligned with the Z’porrah.”
“And,” Reader said slowly, “all of the inhabited planets in Sirius are about to align with the Z’porrah, too.”