CHAPTER 63
CHRISTOPHER WENT TO DULCE and the rest of us looked at each other. “He’s not wrong,” Camilla said finally. “Maybe Francine being gone is a good thing. It means you’ll have to do the meetings and we’ll roll Team Commando without you.”
“When pigs fly. And by that I mean our pigs, not aliens that look like pigs with wings. Our pigs. Just in case and all that.”
“I agree,” White said. “While I believe Christopher’s concerns are correct, that’s always been the end game. And we need Missus Martini’s skills.”
There was a knock at the door, then Mona ran in. “James just told us to get to where the religious leaders are as fast as possible.”
Decided all my stuff could stay strewn about the room. Flipped my purse over my head so that it was securely on my person. Lowered the handle on the rolling bag and picked that up in my other hand. It was heavy but not unmanageable.
White took it from me. “I’ll ensure that it’s with us and never out of my control.” He took my hand, Camilla grabbed Mona, and Colette led the way out of the room. The others were already linked up, other than Raheem.
Grabbed his hand. “Get us to where we need to go. You steer, Richard and I will provide the speed.” We took off.
Hyperspeed being what it was, it didn’t take us more than a couple of seconds of racing past the dead bodies in the hall, then through the beautiful, huge palace, to get where we were going. I’d never find my room again without a map and a guide, and we needed to tell someone to take care of the corpses, but we reached the area to discover that where we were going was bedlam.
There were people outside of this room—mostly ours but some that appeared to be palace guards. There were many more people inside this room, and most of them were shouting and yelling at each other.
Turned out the religious folks had not been sent to another theater. Instead they were in yet another very large room with chairs all around the walls, though there were also chairs set up in the typical rows you saw at any conference around the world. The room was easily as big as the LSR, maybe bigger.
There was a ginormous screen at the end of the room. It was, I realized, actually eight big screens put together, similar to how Imageering did it, where the screens formed one larger screen but could show different feeds as needed.
Realized Imageering probably had done it—noted several A-Cs who weren’t dealing with screaming religious folks. They were dealing with the equipment, protecting it from flying objects, of which there were more than a few, as well as keeping the screens upright and functioning. To my knowledge my team hadn’t requested this, but the Supreme Pontifex got whatever his little heart desired, so I figured Gower had asked for the setup.
All the chairs in the middle were facing the display. Most of the people weren’t looking at the screens, which currently only showed a single feed in Extra Giant Size. Jeff and the Themnir weren’t back to shore yet—not a surprise considering where the Themnir had landed—so we had a close-up of Jeff’s face. Nicest thing I’d seen in what felt like ages.
Couldn’t hear what Oliver or anyone else onscreen was saying, however, because of all the freaking out going on in here. Raheem waded in and attempted to get things under control, with limited success.
Managed to find Reader, though I kept hold of White, too. “What in God’s name is going on?”
“Appropriate choice of words, girlfriend. There were indeed bombs in here. We found them and deactivated all of them, just in time, too, so good call on your part as always. Then, you know, instead of anyone saying thank you they started accusing us and each other of setting this whole thing up merely to get everyone in one place and kill them.”
“The illogic of the person or persons behind this plot being in the room at the same time has not been forwarded?”
“Oh, it has. Several times. They aren’t interested in logic. They aren’t killing each other only because I’ve kept the Field agents here.” Noted that a lot of our people were having to physically stop others from fighting.
And these were the religious leaders. God alone knew what those over at the Burj Khalifa were doing. “Do we have people over at the meeting with the Heads of State of the region?”
“Oh, yeah, we do.” Reader sounded pissed and resigned. “No bombs there, so there’s that. Otherwise? It’s the same thing only worse, because no one who could be a calming influence—like you or Paul—is there. To the point where I had to send your Secret Service and Centaurion details over there in order to keep the peace.”
The mere fact that Reader somehow thought that I was a calming influence was proof enough that things were out of control, let alone the reassignment of staff. “Did we do a video feed between the two locations?”
“We did, at Paul’s request. He’d hoped that the religious side would positively influence the political side.”
“Wow, he really hasn’t been paying attention, has he? Who’s controlling the feeds?”
“We are, mostly.”
“Great, I want to see what’s going on in the other meeting. Can we get it on split screen?”
While Reader sent a text, because it was too loud to make a call, White pointed to the screen. “There’s more.”
We looked to see that the screen was no longer one big image. Instead there was Jeff in one corner, and shots of every ship we’d been expecting filling five other slots, Z’porrah ship included. Sure, they were shots from space, taken from the space station most likely. But most of the ships were close. As in, near the moon close.
The last two screens showed what I was pretty sure was the Heads of State meeting. It was filled with Middle Eastern people, men mostly, all looking formal, and all also fighting. “Well, at least we can see what’s going on. And vice versa?”
“Yes, they have the same screen setup there. Doesn’t matter, really, though. Looks like everyone else is almost here.” Reader’s voice was tight. “I thought we had more time.”
Considered this. “The aliens can see us. Radio and TV waves carry, per everyone in the Alpha Centauri system, and they’re all more scientifically advanced than we are. They were waiting.”
“For what?” Reader asked.
“To see how we greeted the Themnir,” White answered.
“Exactly. We didn’t fire on the Themnir and we didn’t attack them in horror. We allowed them to land and then Jeff and Alexander greeted them as if they were old friends. So everyone else sped the hell up to get here as fast as possible.”
“All our planning seems to be for nothing, though.” Reader sounded stressed. “We need more time.”
“We don’t have it.” The feed had switched the meeting room image to a single screen so as to have the last screen of the eight show what was the Persian Gulf. “What are they saying?”
“That the Faradawn have requested to land in the Persian Gulf,” Butler said from behind us. “That’s what some of the arguing is about. But only some.”
Heard a lot of curse words along with “Death to America” and “Death to Aliens” and similar. Sounded like a Club 51 True Believers rally. Raheem was up front, under the big screen setup, but he was getting shouted at, too. Basically, as with any diplomatic type of mission I went on, this was an unmitigated disaster.
Reader was right—we didn’t have time for this.
Headed for the front of the room, still keeping hold of White, Reader and Butler both following us. Got there then let go of White’s hand. Grabbed one of the A-Cs working the media stuff. “You know who I am?” He nodded. “Great. Then I need a lectern and podium and a teleprompter that’s showing me what’s on the screens that will be behind me. I also want to ensure that anything I do or say will be broadcast to the others receiving the feed from this room. And I want that done at the fastest hyperspeed you guys have.”
The A-C grabbed one of the others and they raced off.
“James, get to Paul and make sure you’re ready to get him and our people out of here if I give the signal.”
“What signal is that?”
“Oh, you’ll know it when I say or do it.”
“Oh, you don’t know what the signal will be. Gotcha.” Reader gave me a shot of the cover boy grin. He looked a lot more relaxed all of a sudden. “I’m better with our form of routine.”
He went off and I took my bag from White. “Let’s see, might I have somehow put a cordless microphone in here?” Algar was good to me—sure enough, there was a cordless mic. Didn’t have to ask if it was wired or tuned to the right channel.
Closed the bag and handed it back to White. Ensured the mic was on, then tapped it. Hard. Could definitely hear something. Good. Always nice to be right, or at least right-ish.
“I heard the microphone thump in the feed from the other room,” White said. “You should be transmitting to both.”
“Good.” The A-Cs returned with the setup I’d asked for. Appeared to be working. Well and good. They also gave me a little Bluetooth to slip into and over my ear. Did so. Presumably this would let whoever was at the controls give me intel. We’d used similar at the end of Operation Epidemic, after all.
“What shall I do to assist, Missus Martini?”
“Mister White, could you please take the currently only sane leader in the region and ensure that Raheem is in the room but extremely safe? Probably within Animal Planet and Friends, since they’re all in the room and apparently having an effect of some kind on the crowd. Keep Mona with him, too.” All our non A-C aliens were literally shoving people in the back of the room into their seats. I approved of this action.
“I can and will. Your Majesty, if I may?”
The king looked worried. “They are not above ordering everyone’s death.”
“Oh, Raheem, never fear. Death is coming, whether they order it or not. We’re just deciding how fast we die and by whose hand. You know, democratic style.” For, as far as I was concerned, the last time until this was over, one way or another.
“What shall I do?” Butler asked as White hustled Raheem to relative safety.
“Oh, I’ll need you doing translations. For me and for them. Are you up to that?”
He smiled. “I can talk as fast as an A-C now. But your translation chip should ensure I don’t need to translate for you.” Realized he was right—I’d understood all the nasty stuff being shouted earlier, after all.
“Okay, awesome, and no need for that speed level unless we need to get them to stop rioting. None who I need to get through to can hear at that speed.”
“Understood. I can also project as if I were holding a microphone.”
“It’s always nice when bad things work out and end up good, isn’t it?” Well, no time like the present. Turned and faced the bedlam. Took a deep breath and channeled Jeff and Mom both. “ENOUGH!”