CHAPTER 4
“I’D SAY I CAN’T BELIEVE IT,” Chuckie said dryly, “only I can, I really can.” He shook his head. “And the worst of it is—we need this.”
“Why are you two so upset?” Jeff asked us. “I may have my blocks up, but I can read both of you really clearly right now.”
“Well, it’s just the irony we’re having difficulties with, Jeff.”
“What irony, baby? Seriously, all I’m getting is that you’re both resigned and upset. I’m just not sure why.”
Heaved a sigh. “Probably because of all that’s gone on in the last six weeks. But, to explain, I’ve literally spent my entire career with Centaurion doing my best to keep you guys from becoming the War Division. Prior to Operation Madhouse, Chuckie was the Head of the CIA’s E-T Division, and he risked his life over and over again to also keep the A-Cs from becoming the War Division. And now, here we were, about to gleefully become just that.”
“I wouldn’t say we’re gleeful,” White said. “However, while we A-Cs are pacifistic at our cores, frankly, humans are not. And, clearly, the Z’porrah are not, either.”
“They are not,” Jareen, my Reptilian Soul Sister said. She was here with the Planetary Council representing her planet, Beta 13, and, due to all the crazy that had been going on since the Council had arrived, we’d had almost no time to just hang out and catch up. Wasn’t sure if she was as bitter about that as I was, but I kind of figured she was. “First they attacked Earth, and then they attacked the entire Alpha Centauri system. This will not end, unless or until we end it.”
“If it’s been going on as long as you’re all indicating, it’s unlikely we’re going to end anything,” Chuckie pointed out. “However, we do have experience with never-ending war on this planet.”
“Plenty,” Mom said dryly. “Which is probably helpful.”
King Benny cleared his throat. “I believe Richard has misspoken slightly.” He was a giant walking otter from Beta Eight and one of the new official leaders of that planet. And he was probably the cutest thing we had on Earth right now. But, he was also a warrior. He bowed his head toward White. “Some of those on Alpha Four are pacifistic, just as those here are somewhat pacifistic. However, the former rulers of that planet were quite willing to be ruthless.”
“He has a point,” McMillan said. “And, frankly, while Centaurion has always tried to find the non-lethal way of dealing with issues, we’d all be dead already if you hadn’t been fighting superbeings with deadly force and intent.”
“So, if the need is enough and the monster is bad enough, you guys will fight. And, frankly, keeping our planets, let alone our galaxy, free of Z’porrah rule is a pretty big need.” And if I was honest with myself, while the A-Cs were thinkers and creators, they were also very good at being warriors as well.
Jeff sighed. “Good points all. I think the difference is that we’re making this choice willingly, as opposed to being forced to fight for an ideology or a leader we don’t agree with.”
“Does everyone agree with us, though?” Reader asked. “I mean, there’s no way we’re going to get a hundred percent of Americans, let alone anyone else on Earth, to agree with us. But do we feel that we’re representing the majority, or even a large minority?”
Tim rolled his eyes. “Raj, could you turn on the TV screens?”
Raj pressed some buttons on the super-duper remote he controlled when we were in here. The curtains over the windows automatically closed and the screens jumped to life. Some had regular programming. But several had news reports. All of them showing a great number of people holding signs that said, “Let Us Fight,” “Stop The Evil Aliens,” and similar sentiments.
“Gosh, it’s just like a Club Fifty-One rally, only with positive statements. Assuming the evil aliens they’re talking about aren’t, for once, all of the A-Cs.”
“Some of those people are Club Fifty-One,” Tim said. “Their schism has been very good for us. The majority of them are now pro our aliens and, based on today, getting more and more pro aliens on our side all the time.”
“The rest are more virulently anti, of course,” Chuckie added. “And we need look no further than Harvey Gutermuth and Farley Pecker for who will be leading the charge against this.”
Gutermuth had taken over as the head of Club 51 after we’d taken out its first leader, Howard Taft, during Operation Drug Addict. Due to the schism, Gutermuth was now the head of Club 51 True Believers, which was what the remaining anti-alien Club 51 loons had become.
“Well, we should never expect the head of the Church of Hate and Intolerance to ever promote any kind of togetherness.” Between Pecker and Gutermuth I wasn’t sure who I despised more, though Gutermuth was far more politically sneaky than Pecker. They’d both served time for attempting to blow us up at the end of Operation Infiltration, but they’d both gotten out early for supposedly good behavior—though intel had shown it was because they’d both bought their way out—and were back at their respective hate-filled posts. We were lucky that way.
“I think we need to be sure that we’re also representing the majority of the A-Cs,” Doreen said. I was going to chime in and agree, but the communications system came on. “Excuse me, Mister President.”
“Yes, Walter?” Jeff asked. Walter Ward had been our Head of Security at the Embassy and was now doing the same at the White House. His older brother, William, was in charge of all Security worldwide, and based out of the Dulce Science Center. Walter was dedicated, eager, and a slave to titles.
“Is the First Lady with you?”
Jeff shot me a What The Hell look. Shrugged. I had no idea what was going on, either. “I’m here, Walter, what’s up?”
“We have an incoming message.”
“Okay,” Jeff said. “From whom?”
“Ah . . . I’m not entirely sure, Mister President, sir.” Walter sounded confused and worried. This probably boded.
“Walt, do you have any guesses?”
“Not really, Chief First Lady.” He sounded evasive.
“Walt, I think you have a really good guess that you’re afraid to share with the room. Am I right?”
“Yes.” While Walter was still in his mid-twenties, he was incredibly competent and dedicated to his job. He also wasn’t normally this coy. Something was up in a big way.
Jeff’s mouth was opening, presumably to tell Walter to spill the beans. Put up the paw. Jeff’s mouth slammed shut. Amazing. I’d been testing out my Talk To The Hand gesture, and prior to my being made the First Lady it had had no real effect. The moment I became the FLOTUS, though, the paw had power. It was always nice to have something, anything, in the win column.
“Walter, who would you feel better sharing this particular communication with?”
There was a pause. “Only you, Chief First Lady.”
More mouths opened. Put the paw right back up. Mouths slammed shut. It wasn’t the coolest power, but it was one I apparently had in spades, so I was keeping it. “I’ll be right there, Walter. Is it okay if Malcolm comes with me?” Asked because I knew without asking that Buchanan was going to come with me whether Walter wanted him there or not.
“Yes.” The com went dead.
“What the hell?” Jeff asked the room in general and me in particular.
“Do you think we’re infiltrated?” Chuckie asked, before I could reply. “Because this doesn’t seem like Walter but it does seem suspicious.”
“It does seem suspicious, but I don’t think Walter would willingly or knowingly ask me to walk into a trap. I think he’s completely unsure of the correct protocol for whatever situation he thinks he or we are in and is, therefore, asking for the one person he knows doesn’t give a crap about protocol at all.”
“I agree,” Buchanan said. He drew back my chair and helped me up. Jeff glared at him but it was only about a three on his jealousy scale, or, as I thought of it, Jeff’s base reaction to any man doing anything with me that Jeff felt he should be the one doing. “If we’re infiltrated, we’ll let you know.”
“How?” Chuckie asked flatly.
“I’ll run through the White House complex screaming.”
“Sure you will,” Jeff said, sarcasm knob at about eight on the one-to-ten scale. “But fine, we’ll carry on with Tim’s news here, you find out what the hell’s going on with Walter.”
Buchanan and I headed off. Wruck and Siler followed us. I chose not to complain about this. Instead, I decided to ask Team Tough Guys a pertinent question. “Any guesses?”
“Many,” Siler said. “Too many to waste the breath, since we’ll find out soon enough.”
“I assume that you three don’t think this is as benign as I do.”
“I assume there is no immediate threat,” Wruck said. “But Walter sounded very stressed, meaning a threat is coming. Potentially.”
“Anytime someone only wants you, Missus Executive Chief, it means that something’s going down and they want the person most likely to come up with the best plan of attack or retreat to weigh in first.”
“Wow, Malcolm, when did you add sucking up to your repertoire? I don’t mind, but it’s kind of a surprise.”
Buchanan chuckled. “There are people who are more loyal to you than to anyone else, even Mister Executive Chief.”
“Three of them are with you right now,” Siler added dryly.
“I’m all kinds of flattered. And I’m sure you feel that Walter’s one of those.”
“You’re the reason he went from handling gate transfers at the Dulce Science Center to two of the top Security positions Centaurion has,” Buchanan pointed out. “You’re the reason his brother has the topmost Security position. Yes, he’s loyal to you, first, and the rest of Centaurion’s core teams second.”
“Same with his brother,” Siler added. “Frankly, if you ever leave your husband it will cause a schism as dramatic as the one Club Fifty-One’s gone through.”
“Not that I’m planning to leave Jeff.”
“Right now,” Buchanan said with a laugh. “It was a near thing though.”
“True.” I’d been really mad at Jeff during Operation Madhouse, after all. Him allowing warheads to be aimed at the ship I was in had that effect on me. Not to mention him making deals with terrorists. And him buying the idea that I was big in the helpless victim department. Decided I should stop thinking about this because it still had the potential to piss me off, even though I understood what had driven all those bad decisions. “But it was all a big misunderstanding.”
“Keep in mind that misunderstandings like that can and do happen all the time,” Siler said. “And when they happen on international and galactic stages, they can have far longer-lasting ramifications than a familial spat.”
“Or,” Wruck said, “they can have exactly the same ramifications.”