Alien Collective (49 page)

C
HERNOBOG SMILED AT ME,
and it looked genuine. “I may like you, too. You’re all far too trusting for your own good, however.”

Tensed for an attack. There was none. She rolled her eyes at me. “I don’t do physical violence. As has been pointed out, I’m an old woman, and, unlike Olga, that was never my strong suit. I meant you’re too trusting with me and with everything, in general. Trusting people are much easier to fool.”

Jeff shrugged. “We just like to believe the best about people. It’s a failing, I know, but it’s one I’m glad we have.”

She stared at him. “You mean that.”

“I do. I’d rather trust that most people will do the right thing, and the brave thing, most of the time, than to think that everyone’s an evil, cowardly creep just waiting to stick it to me and mine.”

“I cover that side,” Chuckie said.

She chuckled. “Well, it’s good that one of you does.” She looked up at Jeff. “But it’s no wonder the opposition doesn’t want you on the ticket. You’re an impressive man, and that’s a rare thing these days.”

“I think you’re impressive, too,” I said to Chuckie.

Jeff sighed. “Always there’s someone impressing my wife more than me.”

Chernobog snorted. “I doubt it.”

“I have another question. Why do you think what’s going on now is going on?”

She blinked. “Excuse me? English isn’t my first language, though it’s rarely an issue. However, I have no idea what you mean.”

“So few ever do, Boggy, so few ever do.”

“Boggy? What?”

“It’s a nickname.”

“My God. Please, call me Bogdana.”

“Um, you realize that I’m still going to get Boggy from that, right?”

“You could just give us your real name,” Jeff suggested.

Chuckie looked at her closely. “She did. That
is
your real name, isn’t it?”

“No. But I’m willing to use that name.”

Chuckie laughed quietly. “You’re lying. Why toss out a name that sounds so close to your pseudonym, especially after Kitty gave you a nickname you don’t like? That’s actually your real name.”

“Yeah, it is.” Jeff nodded to me. Good, he’d read her emotions. Always nice to have that working for us.

“Go me and my awesome interrogation skills. But back to what I was asking Bogdana, sometimes known as Boggy, here. We’ve had a variety of attacks over the past twenty-four to forty-eight hours.” Gave her a high-level recap. “So, I’m asking if you have insights or thoughts about why our enemies rolled all that they’ve been rolling yesterday and today, versus, say, last week or next month?”

“The election? It seems obvious.”

“Yeah, and I can buy the stuff with Bruce Jenkins in regard to that. But not a bunch of bombs, that bizarre quicksand attack, the attempted assassinations of Vander, Serene, yourself, and so on. Just wondering if you might see something, some pattern, that we’re missing because we’re too close to it.”

“Or, short of us dying or my stepping down as a candidate, what you think we might be able to do to stop it,” Jeff added.

Chernobog seemed to be giving this some thought, but we were all distracted by the containment room door slamming shut.

Once I landed from my jump for the ceiling, turned around to see Serene, Henry, and Ravi all outside and hopefully out of harm’s way.

“Okay,” Serene said. “I reactivated him. He’ll be online momentarily.” She reached out and took Mrs. Maurer’s hand. “I hope I did it all right.”

Mrs. Maurer nodded. “You did your best, dear. That’s all I can hope for.” She looked over at Chernobog. “What do you hope for? If they could do this to my son, they can do it to yours, too.”

Chernobog gave her a long look. “I would like your son returned to you as I would like mine returned to me.”

“But even if this works,” Mrs. Maurer’s voice trembled but she held it together, “I’ll only get a part of my son back. He’ll never be all him again.”

“No, he won’t be.” Chernobog cocked her head. “Why are you asking me these questions?”

“Because I don’t trust you,” Mrs. Maurer snapped. “And these are decent people trying to do good, and they’re also trying to trust you. If you love your son, truly love him as I love mine, then you’ll help them, and not betray them.”

“I—”

Mrs. Maurer sniffed and interrupted Chernobog. “You can say anything you want. It’s your actions that will matter. Prove that you’re worth what they’ll do to protect and help you. Prove that your son deserves a full, normal life, instead of being turned into a robotic version of himself.”

With that she turned away and stared through the window at the robot with her son’s skin and brain.

“Are we sure those windows are safe?” I asked Jeff, somewhat to change the subject and somewhat because I was still kind of freaked out.

“Yes, Mrs. Martini,” White answered for him. “They are. Remember, we’re good with fail-safes.”

True enough. White, Chuckie, and I had experienced a major one at the end of Operation Confusion. “Great. Just want to be sure and all that.”

We all clustered around the containment room. Really questioned our wisdom, but decided hyperspeed would just save the day as it tended to.

Maurer was lying there, looking like a dead person or a robot whose plug had been pulled; I couldn’t decide which. But all of a sudden his eyes blinked slowly, once. Then rapidly, several times. Color came back into his cheeks and his chest rose and fell. He sat up and looked around, and once again he looked just like a real man.

“God, Antony Marling did good work. I mean, it’s horrible work, but the man really was an artist. What a damned pity he was totally evil and completely batshit crazy.”

Maurer got off the table and came to the window where his mother and Serene were, which was where Jeff, Chuckie, White, and I were, too. He banged on the glass. “Mother, what’s going on? Why am I in here? Where are we?” He sounded far away, like he was in a giant fishbowl, which he kind of was. But still, he was in a containment room. Was shocked we could hear him at all.

“We can hear because it’s set up for that,” Jeff said quietly to me. “And yes, I read you, and yes, even though we can hear him, we won’t be hurt if he explodes.”

“Don’t let him out,” Chernobog said. “Trust me, he’s not safe yet.”

“As in not safe because he’s going to explode, or not safe because we don’t know what program he’s currently running?”

“Both.”

Serene nodded. “We need to wait until Ravi hears from the Science Center. We need to know if what I removed explodes or not.”

“What do we know if it does or doesn’t?”

“I think it’s still active, so if it explodes, it means we got everything and the destruct sequence was triggered by someone. If it doesn’t explode, it may mean nothing or it may mean that I didn’t get everything.”

“What about his self-destruct things? You got all of those.”

“Again, we’ll know soon.”

“Just wait, Cameron, dear,” Mrs. Maurer said. “This is for your own protection.”

So we all waited, and while we did, I thought again. I was getting better at thinking to myself, versus aloud, but there was still nothing better for my mental processes than running my yap.

Gave up the silent treatment. “So, who set the bombs in the Israeli and Bahraini embassies? Not the ones Nightcrawler set, but the ones that were set to go off sooner.”

“Stephanie,” Christopher said. “She has hyperspeed, and she was in D.C. working for Vander. Take your coffee break, plant bombs to kill your family, grab a Starbucks on the way back as cover.”

“Makes sense. We figure Ronnie’s Kids helped Club Fifty-One and the Church of Hate and Intolerance set the ricin bombs, right?”

“Yes,” Serene replied. “Per everything we’ve learned.”

“Boggy, can we fix what was done to the imageers?”

“I hate that nickname. And I don’t know. I don’t know where the toxin is or what it is, specifically. But that’s what it is, I believe—a toxin that affects whatever part of the brains that control the talent. But it’s definitely in your main research facility, the one I accessed to take your data.”

“Nicknames are given out of love, babe.”

“So you claim. Even nicknames someone hates?”

“Yes. It’ll grow on you.”

“What do you call Olga?”

“The Oracle. Or Olga. Or She Who Knows All.”

“And I get Boggy. I see who you like better.”

“She’s never worked against us. So, we need to have a more thorough search of the Science Center done pronto.”

“Just sent James a text,” Jeff said. “Walter apparently gave him the heads up and he’s started literally an inch-by-inch search. He said to tell you that, yes, they’re starting in the air vents and circulation system.”

“Wow, he definitely needs a vacation. And good initiative Walter.”

“Thanks, Chief,” Walter said. Didn’t shock me—I’d told him to keep the com open.

“Walter, did we miss anything that you and the rest of Team Oliver might have heard, seen, or experienced that’s key?”

“No, Chief, I don’t think so. But, ah, would you like my opinion?”

“I’d love it, Walt. What do you have for me?”

“I think we need to consider why Colonel Hamlin thinks he’s safer if he doesn’t let us protect him than if he does.”

There were a lot of comments I could give to this. Buchanan had been attacked right after dropping Hamlin off somewhere. We were really public figures now. We were public figures constantly under attack. And more. But I chose to, instead, ask a question. “Walt, why do
you
think he feels that way?”

“I think he’s figured out who the Mastermind is—and it’s someone very close to us. So close we won’t believe it without solid proof, which I don’t think he has yet.”

B
EFORE ANYONE COULD COMMENT,
or I could share my musings on this from a little earlier, Serene’s phone rang. “Yes? Yes? Great! No, good job. Yes, good work. Thank you.” She hung up.

“What happened?” Jeff asked.

“The remote destruct just went off. It was in a contained room, no one was injured. Huge blast radius, though. If it had gone off here it would have leveled the Embassy. Same with Colonel Butler’s destruct. But,” she said quickly as all our mouths opened, “they were able to deactivate his bombs, too. Dulce has been online with us and doing the same procedure we have. Both were a success.”

“Walter, I want a portable OVS given to every Field agent, and I want a set for the Embassy, the Pontifex’s Residence, my parents, Kitty’s parents, the Israeli and Bahraini embassies, and all bases worldwide. If James has a problem with this, tell him it’s a congressional decree.”

“Yes, sir, Congressman Martini.”

“And tell him Imageering agrees with the congressman,” Serene added.

“Yes ma’am, Commander.”

“I also want Field teams assigned to the Armstrongs and the McMillans, and if we already have teams on them, add on more personnel. That goes for every non-Centaurion location getting an OVS as well, and yes that includes Kitty’s parents, regardless of what Angela may want to say about it.”

“Got it, and have relayed. Commander Reader agrees and has also assigned three teams to protect Lieutenant Colonel Gonzalez. He’s been verified as ninety-five percent organic, by the way. Commander Reader said you’d want to know.”

“We did, thank you. Move Caroline into the Embassy, please,” I added. “She may protest, but she’s been an attack point before.” Unless she was the Mastermind. Heck we totally trusted her. But if she hated Chuckie, I’d never seen any indication of such. And we knew the Mastermind was a man. So, great, unless Caroline was doing Mastermind work in drag, she was out as a suspect.

“Yes, Chief. Do you want family and friends brought into lockdown?”

“No, not yet,” Jeff said.

Had a thought and made a call. “You’re still alive, kitten?”

“Yeah, for now. Mom, I think you need to increase security on Russell Kozlow.” Chernobog’s head swiveled toward me.

“Why so?”

Brought her up to speed on the android and android destruct situation. “We need to create metal detectors that somehow include OVS detection in them.” And why this hadn’t occurred to me or anyone else before now was beyond me.

“We were, but all the data was taken and it was a lower-level restoration requirement,” Mom said. Ah, it had occurred. Go team. “However, if the data is truly back now, we can probably do so fairly quickly. Possibly before the National Convention, but I wouldn’t count on it.”

“Why not? I’d bet Dulce could get those suckers out fast.”

“Yes, they could. And for the half of Congress that feels that they’d be signing up their constituents and themselves to be probed by aliens, that’s a frightening idea. It’s not the creation alone that’s the issue, Kitty. It’s the legal use of this kind of scan that will be the bigger holdup.”

Managed not to say that we used the OVS all the time. We did because we could—the law for us was the Pontifex, the Diplomatic Corps, and Alpha Team. All of whom were all for using the OVS. But Mom had a good point. Heaved a sigh. “They’re risking being blown up by an android that looks like the congressman next door.”

“We’re all at risk every day, kitten. But unless you also think we should be tapping everyone’s phones twenty-four-seven, you have to go through the proper channels and procedures. Otherwise you have a fascist dictatorship. Or anarchy.”

Refrained from making a snippy comment about the NSA. Because, you know, they might be listening. “Think the Mastermind is in the NSA?”

“That would be too easy and too obvious.”

“Yeah. Bummer. So, anyway, I think they’re going to make a move to get or kill Kozlow. We have Chernobog and I’m sure the Mastermind knows that by now. Whether that means they’ll make a move on the other prisoners or not I have no bet.”

“They’re hard to get to.”

“Whoever hired Chernobog is in the U.S. government.”

Mom was quiet for a few seconds. “She could be saying that to create havoc. Or to get you to ask for us to release him into your custody.”

“Or it could be the truth. Frankly, we know the Mastermind’s got connections. It’s not a surprise that he’d be in a position of some kind of power.”

“I’ll advise that guard should be increased. Anything else?”

“Yeah. Any suggestions for how to handle the Cameron Maurer situation, since he hasn’t blown up so far?”

“Not really. I’m sure his mother will have some ideas.”

“Really? You have nothing for me on this one?”

“Nope. You’re the diplomat, not me. Keep me posted, kitten.”

We hung up as Serene opened the containment room door. Couldn’t speak for anyone else, but I was prepared for Maurer to blow up anyway, or to attack us.

He did neither. He walked out of the room and went to his mother. “Mother, I had the weirdest, most horrible dream.” He looked around. “I really have no idea where we are. What’s going on?”

“We’ll explain it to you,” Raj said, Troubadour Tones set on Soothe. “In a few minutes. Right now, why don’t you and your mother have a reunion?”

“Why did you leave?” Maurer asked her.

“You weren’t yourself.” She took his hand. “Let’s go have that little reunion, dear.”

“If it’s alright, I’d like to escort you both,” White said.

Raj nodded. “I as well. We’ll figure out what to tell the press, and run it past you first, Ambassador, don’t worry about that.”

“Yes,” Mrs. Maurer said. “I believe it will help having you both with us and helping craft our statement.” She took my hand for a moment. “Thank you for giving me back at least part of my son.”

“Glad to.”

Maurer looked confused, but he didn’t ask any more questions. The four of them left, presumably to go to one of the salons in the Embassy, or to the rooms Mrs. Maurer was staying in.

The agents with us broke down the containment room and took it away, in about two minutes. Which, at hyperspeed, was kind of a long time. Then again, if they needed to take some time constructing and deconstructing the thing that could stop the giant explosions, that was okay with me. They all left with the equipment.

“Now what?” Jeff asked.

“Ah, Chief? We have protestors outside. All bases in populated areas are reporting protestors, as is the Pontifex’s Residence, as well as the embassies that are friendly to us, such as Israel’s, Bahrain’s, and Romania’s. All buildings with shields have them activated, ours included. The Bahraini and Israeli embassies say this is no big deal to them and we shouldn’t worry. We have overflow personnel with the Bahrainis again.”

“Oh joy, oh rapture, the Loon Squad has arrived. Tell our friends sorry and thank you, please. We’re on our way to take a look-see.”

We left Hacker International, Chernobog, a dozen Field agents who arrived sharing that Reader had sent them over, and Serene in the computer lab and headed downstairs.

Went onto the bridge. Sure enough, we had a ton of people clogging the streets around us, holding more of those Armstrong-Martini signs that had the red circle with a line through it on them.

There were also a nice complement of “Aliens Go Home”, “The Only Good Aliens Are Dead Aliens”, “Probe Elsewhere”, and similar. There were also a lot of anti-gay signs joined by a lot of Biblical verses and such that undoubtedly didn’t actually mean that God wanted us all dead, but which the Church of Intolerance was also undoubtedly using as proof that God despised us and wanted us burning in hell.

They saw us and started shouting, waving their signs, and throwing things. We couldn’t hear them, the waving made the signs illegible, and the shielding bounced all the rotten veggies and the like right back onto them. So we had that going for us.

“What do we do?” I asked everyone and no one.

Len cleared his throat. “Ah, I have an idea.”

“Go for it.”

“I say we do nothing.”