Alien Diplomacy

you, Missus Martini.”
    “Pretty much completely, yes,” I said cheerfully. Why let them know we weren’t enjoying our new jobs?
    “How’s your daughter?” she inquired.
    “Doing great. I’ll force baby pictures on you later. But we’re late for a meeting, since we had no idea you were stopping by, so could we get to why you’re all here?”
    “Absolutely. Please allow me to introduce Senator Lydia Montgomery, Miz Lillian Culver, Mister Guy Gadoire, and Representative Edmund Brewer. I’m sure you know Marion Villanova, the Chief Aide to the Secretary of State, and Secretary of Transportation Langston Whitmore.”
    “Only from TV.” I hadn’t met any of these people in person yet, but I knew their respective spouses quite well. Lydia Montgomery was Eugene’s wife, Lillian Culver claimed dear Abner as her husband, Guy Gadoire was Vance Beaumont’s main man, and Edmund Brewer was Nathalie’s vintner husband. Marion Villanova and Langston Whitmore were the ones playing pretend with Leslie Manning and Bryce Taylor.
    Whitmore gave me a beaming smile. “I believe you’re in the Washington Wife class with my personal assistant, Bryce, aren’t you, Missus Martini?”
    “Ambassador Martini,” Chuckie corrected. “American Centaurion recognizes two Chiefs of Mission.”
    “Of course, my apologies,” Whitmore said. “Is there a formal apology method your people prefer?”
    “Oh, Langston,” Villanova said, “the first word in their country’s name is American. Stop acting like they wear feathers or something.” He chuckled in a way that I knew was supposed to be boyishly contrite while she smiled apologetically. “You have a lovely Embassy.” Considering Whitmore technically outranked Villanova, I thought this was an interesting little piece of theater.
    “Thank you.” I tried to channel Pierre. “We do our best.”
    “My friend Leslie says you’re quite the life of the party in class.”
    “Oh, yeah, that’s me all right.” Either Leslie had lied like a wet rug, for reasons I couldn’t fathom, Villanova was being sweetly snide, or she was trying to put a nice spin on things. I tabled my decision on this for later.
    The youngest woman stepped forward. “You must be Kitty,” she said, extending her hand. She was the first one to do so. “I’m Lydia.”
    We shook paws. “Eugene’s told me so much about you! Nice to finally meet you.” She looked like Eugene—average. There was nothing wrong with that, but I could see a little more why this transition was hard on him—they’d really been regular folks before Lydia had gone into politics.
    “I agree. Eugene speaks so highly of you, I was hoping we’d have time to meet before now.”
    “Me too. Better late than never, though, right?”
    Representative Brewer shook hands with all of us, marking him as the only one in the room who might possibly have been raised right, though I was willing to cut Lydia some slack. He looked exactly like I’d expect a winery-owner-turned-politician to look. He also looked like your quintessential Californian—tall, tan, laid-back, and confident.
    “My wife, Nathalie, says she can’t wait to see your ensemble tomorrow night,” he shared as he got to me. “She expects it to be spectacular.”
    “Does she? I guess I’d better make sure it is, then. How’s the wine business?”
    “Good! I have wonderful people in place, running things. Allows me to focus on my constituents. Let me know if you’d like me to send a case over. Our Chardonnay is particularly fantastic.”
    “Thank you, but it’s against our religion to drink.”
    “You’re Mormons?”
    Why this was always the first question was beyond me. More people than Mormons didn’t drink. “No. American Centaurion has its own religion. But thank you for the offer. If we were allowed to drink, I’m sure we’d love it.”
    Lillian Culver was one of those women who, when you first looked at her, seemed really stunningly attractive—not Dazzler-level, but still hot for a human. But the longer you looked at her, the more you realized she was all bones and angles, and the moment you realized this, you also saw that she wasn’t really all that attractive. If you looked a little while longer, you started to wonder if she ate meals, and how big her head really was in proportion to her body.
    Culver hit me with a wide smile, and I mean wide. She looked like she was auditioning to play the Joker in drag. It was sort of attractive but