Alien in the Family

the picture of a person would know everything about that person—Christopher had explained it as pictures taking a copy of the mind and soul as well as the body. The stronger the imageer, the more information he or she could glean from the touched image.
    Christopher was the strongest imageer on the planet, and during Operation Fugly, he’d touched some of the pictures I’d had displayed in my apartment. This was why, during Operation Drug Addict, he’d recognized my old boyfriend from high school, Brian Dwyer, before I did. Well before, but hey, as I liked to remind everyone, I was the big picture girl. Details were for other people.
    Chuckie almost never allowed his picture to be taken. I’d always figured it was because he didn’t think he looked good when he was younger and was more comfortable out of the limelight as an adult. Now I wondered how long he’d known just what kinds of aliens were on Earth.
    But it wasn’t relevant to the current problem. Other imageering skills were. When we were recovering from that mad moment of not-too-wise passion in the elevator, Christopher had shown that imageers could also draw images using air molecules or some such. To me, this knowledge should have made what I was thinking obvious to all, but apparently the heavy thinking was somehow being left to me. Always the way.
    “The fake runner shorted out the phones to Catering, probably after he or she heard Chuckie call for food. He or she overlaid an image of the real runner onto himself and took the order from the front desk clerk. Same faker delivered the food to Chuckie. No one’s the wiser. They’ve tapped the phones, so it was simple to call Chuckie back, since they’ve kept the lines out to Catering. They made up a restaurant name, and Bob’s your uncle.”
    “My uncle’s name is Richard,” Martini said. “But, okay, that makes sense.”
    “So they’re on the premises somewhere,” Chuckie said.
    “One of them is, for sure. But A-Cs move so fast, it wouldn’t need to be more than one.”
    Christopher closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then he pulled out his phone. “This is Commander White. I want a full personnel status report for today. Every imageer, where they were, who they were with, every detail. And I want anyone who can’t prove his or her whereabouts put under immediate house arrest. Yes, I’m serious. Yes, I want this done immediately. No, it’s not a drill, it’s real. No, this is me telling you, not the C.I.A. Look, you want me to come down there and explain it personally to you?” He was snarling. “Right. Faster than that. Yes, that’s why I said immediately.” He covered the phone and looked at Reader. “James, we need Security to main Imageer control stat—I don’t think I’m talking to who I should be.”
    Reader nodded and dialed. I looked at Chuckie. “I am so sick of being infiltrated.”
    “Maybe they’re just confused.”
    “Maybe.” Martini had his Commander hat on, too. “But maybe not.” He pulled out his phone. “We’re on internal alert. Yes. Right. Imageering. No, I’m not kidding. No, not Christopher. Every other imageer, however. Right. Handle it fast, handle it right, because if I have to come down there and handle it for you . . . Right, good. I want to know the moment you find anything suspicious. Any kind of suspicious. Right. Good. Yeah, Christopher’s very concerned. Yes, thanks for taking care of that already. Appreciate the help. Thanks, Gladys.”
    “Gladys? You called Gladys for this?”
    He gave me a sideways look. “You’d be surprised at what Gladys’ job title is.”
    I thought about it. “I supposed Center Operator isn’t it.”
    “No.”
    I thought about it some more. “Why does the Head of Security run the intercom system?”
    He grinned. “Because we don’t want a peon disturbing our rest.” He nodded to Christopher. “She’s already got the Pontifex secured.”
    Christopher nodded back and mouthed, “Thanks.”
    “Yes, I really would like to know who’s in there with you. Really? How interesting. Hello? Confirm, please. Okay, good. Take them all in. I want all of Imageering under the closest scrutiny. Looking for anything suspicious, particularly anything that relates to Commander Martini. Regular updates would be nice. Yes, with extreme prejudice.” He hung up and rubbed his forehead. “This sucks, but good call, Kitty.”
    “You think your department’s been infiltrated?”
    “Well, the reaction