Alien Diplomacy

what I was fairly sure were legs and had what appeared to be arms. Or armlike things. It had five of them, so it was hard to be confident, but I went with arms because it had some really horrible-looking pincers, nails, and other weapons of mass destruction at the ends, sort of forming fingers, but only if Edward Scissorhands had done the rough draft.
    I could tell it had started life as a parasitic superbeing, though, because of the formation of its so-called head. It wasn’t a head so much as a roundish thing with spikes sticking out of it. No human could make this up—even in his wildest nightmares, Michael Bay wouldn’t make a Transformer that looked like this. Though I’d have given a lot to see Optimus Prime, or even Bumblebee, right about now.
    The metal did look very flexible, which boded but not well. I contemplated if I had a chance of running, but the question of “where to” loomed.
    “Say hello to the next generation of soldier,” a familiar voice said from behind the supersoldier. Even with all that had gone on, whose voice it was came as a surprise. This event was really testing my ability to roll with the shocking revelations.
    “Madeline Cartwright, interesting to find you here.”
    “Is it?” She gave me a disapproving look as she stepped around the so-far still monster. She had both a gun and a remote control. It didn’t take rocket science to guess what the remote controlled.
    “Yeah, it is. Sorry to disappoint.”
    She looked me up and down. “I knew you’d survive something that would and should kill a normal person. Nice dress, though.”
    “I’m lucky that way.” I wondered if she knew I wasn’t a normal person anymore and really prayed she didn’t. “And thanks, it’s a designer original.”
    “If you were going to live out the night, I’d tell you to ensure that you kept the designer on retainer.”
    “Good to know. So, you and Marling are working together? Or is it just a family affair with him, Bryce, and Leslie, and you’re crashing that party?”
    She rolled her eyes. “Please. Antony thinks he’s so clever, hiding his children within the political hoi polloi. Anyone with the slightest brainpower can fiddle around with their names to come up with who his offspring are. I mean, you figured it out, right?”
    “Yeah.” At the last minute, but I wasn’t going to share that with Cartwright. I wondered if Olga knew and then realized that of course she did. She’d given me the paper that held all the pertinent clues. No chance of seeing Olga here, though. She was wisely sitting this one out. “They must resemble their mother.”
    “Yes, for the most part.” She smiled. “My sister was brilliant.”
    “Your sister? How has that secret been kept from the Pentagon?” Or Mom, Chuckie, or anyone else?
    She chuckled. “Unlike my bother-in-law, I changed my name to something completely different, no anagrams.”
    “Wise.”
    “Then I married a nice man who worked for a nice general. It was fairly easy after that. Besides, decades ago, no one was using computers to track. And I’ve been a model employee.”
    “True enough. I have to be honest, out of everyone I’ve dealt with, you didn’t hit my radar as being the Dominatrix of Doom. Um, good job. I guess.”
    She smiled. “Thank you. Love the title. I may use it, with your permission. In private, of course.”
    “Go for it. So, before you kill me or whatever, would you mind clearing up a couple of things?”
    She checked her watch. “Yes. We have time.”
    “We do?”
    “Yes. You’re dying on stage, so to speak. It will be quite dramatic. I believe experiencing your death in this way should short your husband out, empathically and possibly mentally, too. He’ll either be useless or so out of control that he’ll end up dead, one way or another.”
    “Nice.” I decided not to ask what she thought everyone else with us would be doing. If I didn’t focus her on them, then maybe they’d have a shot. “So, why were assassins hired to kill me?”
    Cartwright snorted. It fell much more on my side of the snort house. Pity. I tended to prefer those who snorted like I did. “You were identified two years ago as a problem. You’ve been nothing but a thorn in our sides. And everyone who’s gone up against you has died or been imprisoned. Or run off.”
    “Yeah. You still in touch with good ol’ Rue and Ronaldo Al Dejahl?”
    “No. But I’m sure they’ll be back.”
    “Me too. Bummer though that