Alien in the Family

your condescending explanation.”
    “The net went nuts and thinks it’s God,” Bitch Leader snapped. “Can you have this thing let go of me?”
    “Name, rank, planetary number?”
    “Uma, head delegate from Alpha Six.”
    “Okay. Harlie? Be a good Poofie and put icky Uma down, okay? No snack right now.” Harlie spat Uma onto the floor then trotted over. Clearly for pets and lovies. Which I gave it. In abundance. The purrs were loud. From all of the Poofs. “So, Uma, you were saying?”
    “The net went crazy, started talking to the more militant on the planet. Considers itself God, tells them so.” She stood up and brushed herself off.
    “Tells them to go kill all the men, right?”
    “Yes.”
    “So, you’re all here, why?”
    “To crown the new king of Alpha Four.” She said it like it was obvious.
    “But you’re not from Alpha Four.”
    “We represent them,” Gregory said. I looked at him, and the rest of them. Yep, eyes were not looking at me, faces were turned away, the usual. On the humanoids, anyway. The Giant Lizards were pretty stone-faced, the Major Doggies looked smiley or snarley, depending, and the Cat People looked smug. I didn’t know yet if this was just how they looked naturally or how they happened to feel right now.
    “So, for some reason, Alpha Four needs a king so badly that they’re willing to go across the galaxy to pull up the last person in a line—who happens to be from the religious sect they cold-bloodedly exiled with extreme prejudice—and in addition, they asked the entire solar system’s diplomatic corps to help out?”
    “Yes.” Gregory was looking at me, but his eyes were shifting all over the place. Chuckie was laughing softly.
    “And, somehow, the rulership of Alpha Four doesn’t care about the fact that if Jeff goes back, all the exiles go back, too?” They wouldn’t, but then, Martini wasn’t going in the first place. But it was a good question.
    “Uh, yes. That’s fine. All is forgiven. Their work here is done.” I saw the Cat People’s expressions—they were as unimpressed with Gregory’s lying as I was.
    “So, are the parasites still hitting the ozone shield?”
    Gregory nodded. “Slowing down, but yes.” He seemed relieved. He shouldn’t have been—I could tell he was finally telling the truth.
    “So Chuckie remains the Conspiracy King, not that I ever had a doubt, and all this is an elaborate ruse. You don’t represent the Alpha Four government at all. There is no way they want all our A-Cs back. As long as there are parasites, they want our A-Cs right where they stuck them, on Earth, with all of us dealing with the superbeing problem. In fact, I’m betting they, either don’t know you’re here or, worse, they’re coming after you with intent to blow us all up. Which is it?”
    I stared at Gregory. He tried to stare back. I was much better at it. “We’re . . . not sure . . . entirely.” He stared at the ground.
    I turned to the only one I figured was going to tell me an approximation of the truth. “Queen Renata? What’s your guess?”
    She nodded. “Prepare for interplanetary war.”

CHAPTER 30

    THE OTHERS IN THE ROOM SEEMED UPSET when Queen Renata shared reality with us. I heard silence behind me—our Earth A-Cs were thinking, and so was Chuckie.
    Left me to handle the human side again. Always the way. “So, wonderful beings who have arrived in three cloaked spaceships that were somehow landed on the top of the same three peaks my team and I just visited a day or so ago, I have one question.”
    They all looked at me. The Poofs were, to a fluffy thing, growling quietly.
    “What is it you hope to gain from Earth by showing up and pretending to be the actual royal shipload from Alpha Four?”
    No one replied. Shocker. I looked over to where Martini was. “You know, we’re back to three freaking plans.”
    “Yeah, baby, I picked that up.”
    “The one in front of us, whatever the royal family is really doing, and Moira’s, right?” Chuckie confirmed.
    “Yep.”
    He wandered the room again. One of the Poofs trotted along with him. I was almost willing to forgive the Emissaries from Hell for coming—I’d wanted a pet of my own. Now I had seven. Well-trained ones. I hoped they were housebroken.
    Chuckie got to the back of the room and turned so he was facing me. “Move them into planetary position, would you? In relation to their suns and each other.”
    Like I was going to be able to do that? “You heard