Alien Diplomacy

either. She wasn’t one of the guests at the…party.”
    “Amy’s not here. We can call it a fiasco.”
    “Then how does she know you?” Chuckie wasn’t going to let this one go. “Oh, and let me mention—you just lost whatever points you’d made by not going into Paraguay’s Embassy. We’re now on Romanian soil, meaning that we’re subject to their laws and there’s not one damn thing I can do about it.”
    “Not to worry, Mister Reynolds,” a woman’s voice said from above us. “You are guests of Romania, not prisoners. And not enemies.”
    We all looked up. The young woman was helping an older lady. She was older than Mom but not as old as my Nana, at least as I judged it.
    She smiled at us. “We are alone; just Adriana and I are here right now.”
    “I’m afraid you have the better of us, Madame,” White said with extreme courtliness.
    She smiled again. “I do, do I not? I am Olga Dalca, wife of Andrei, who is our ambassador.” I opened my mouth to introduce ourselves, but she waved her hand. “No, no. I know who you are, Ambassador Katt-Martini, and your Mister Reynolds. And Former Pontifex White, I know you as well. Your two young men are new, are they not? The ones who took your handsome animals back home? I believe their names are Leonard Parker and Kyle Constantine, is that correct?”
    “Yes,” Chuckie said, clearly unhappy she knew this information. I realized that, until this moment, I hadn’t known either one of their last names, or that Len was his nickname. I felt out of the loop, which was pretty much my par for every course. “I confess to failing to remember meeting you, however, Ambassadress.”
    “Oh, you have not met me, Mister Reynolds. Not until today.” Olga sighed. “I would come down to greet you properly but…perhaps you would come up instead? I would very much like to see your child.”
    I had Poofs on me, and she didn’t look or sound dangerous. I also figured the stroller would take care of itself. I trotted up the steps, White and Chuckie following me.
    “This is Jamie, our Junior Ambassadress,” I said as I reached the second floor and realized why Olga hadn’t wanted to come down. There was a wheelchair behind her—Adriana was literally holding her up. The gloves on her hands had to have been custom-made; they were extremely fancy, dove-colored and dainty—but they were workout gloves like the ones I’d seen wheelchair athletes use. “Please, don’t feel you have to stand on our account.”
    Olga smiled warmly. “Thank you. I would have asked your young men to assist me, but since they did not accompany you, that was not an option. Besides, it’s nicer up here.” She sat back down with a sigh. “Adriana, please bring our guests something to drink, they look thirsty.” Adriana headed downstairs while Olga turned her wheelchair around, then rolled down the hall. “Please bring the beautiful baby here, to the sunlight.”
    I followed her along a short hallway. She was right—this floor was lovely, decorated in what I took to be Old Romanian Treasures and Trinkets style. But it was warm, comfy, and not at all what you’d expect from the outside.
    We went into a room that was clearly a study, with what I realized was the window we’d seen her at. There were actually two windows in the room, near each other, one with a view of our Embassy and one with a view onto the Circle. Both were floor to ceiling, and there were handicapped railings around them, which explained how she’d been able to stand and signal to us.
    Chuckie prevented me from going to the windows. He went instead, to each one, and checked out the surrounding buildings.
    “Chuckie, really.”
    Olga chuckled. “He is cautious, and this is wise. We are safe here, at least so I believe, but better to be sure.” She was turned sideways to the window that faced our Embassy. She reached for Jamie. “May I?”
    She wasn’t Marcia Kramer—I handed Jamie to her. Jamie studied her for a few moments, then grabbed her nose. Olga laughed. “Oh, she is adorable. How old?”
    “Three months.”
    “So advanced.” Olga said this quite calmly. I felt some suspicions starting to wriggle.
    “I suppose. She’s our first, so I wouldn’t know,” I lied.
    Olga looked at me. “I see you are cautious, too. This is also wise.”
    White cleared his throat. “Ah, Madame? I believe you wanted us to visit, and I have to assume it wasn’t just to meet the baby.”
    “Oh, but of course it