Alien in the House

“been there, done that” kind of wincing.
    Gower caught Vance before he slammed into a wall. Whatever Vance had hit had been invisible, but I got the feeling that it was around Nathalie, too, because she wasn’t moving much.
    Studied our “guests” a little more closely. They weren’t wearing anything that matched, specifically no matching jewelry. Nothing was obviously wrong about them, other than their clothing. Perhaps I was going out on a limb, or perhaps my brain was working at warp speed, but I didn’t think they were from around here. Of course, it took television and radio waves a long time to reach the Alpha Centauri system. Or maybe they, like Jeff, just preferred to watch the older shows.
    “Look, the last time a couple of gals from your planet showed up without an appointment, they tried to kill everyone. So, share your secrets or launch your attack, but you’re not hanging out with me alone.”
    The women’s eyes widened but they didn’t do anything.
    “Oh, for God’s sake. I’m Ambassador Katt-Martini. What can I do for you? But first, name, rank, and planetary number, pronto. Or I’m going to go through your Girls-Only force field and kick some serious Amazonian butt.”
    The younger one shook her head. “This is not for . . . them, the others.” She indicated all the men. Shocker.
    “In my opinion, it is. So, guys, what I think we have here are either two women who haven’t gone out of the house or looked at a fashion magazine for decades.
Or
we have two Free Women from Beta Twelve, what we might now call the Planet of Possibly Not As Pissed Off As They Were Before Amazons. I’m betting on the latter, but that’s because I hate to take the long shots.”
    The women stared and the younger one gaped. “How—what do you mean?” she asked.
    I rolled my eyes. “Look, girls, really, I have no idea why you’re here, but I do know it takes a lot of effort to
get
you here. So either you’re about to try to kill us or something, or you need our help. No one changes solar systems just to hang out. Oh, and drop the disguises, will you? You both look ridiculous.”
    The taller one seemed to reach a decision. “Fine. Your guardians may remain. We were told about what happened . . . before. I can understand your hesitation.”
    “Are you sure—” the younger one hissed.
    “Yes. You are along to learn. And not question.” She sounded annoyed.
    “I can question.” The younger one sounded petulant. I revised my guess as to their relationship.
    “Look, can you two have the sibling squabble after we know what you really look like and what your names are?”
    Now they both gaped at me. “How—” The older one collected herself. “Our mother said you were wise beyond your years. I see she was, as always, right.”
    Their mother. I’d only met one Amazonian who we hadn’t had to kill. I ensured I was standing up straight. The men with me noticed and did the same.
    I gave them a short bow. “I hope your coming doesn’t indicate that Queen Renata is unwell.”
    “We’re disguised!” the younger one said, while the older one looked ready to strangle her.
    “Not really. Not to anyone who’s met the Planetary Council, anyway. Seriously, change into whatever you really look like and how you really dress, and, once you pass along whatever your message is, I’ll explain why you look wrong.”
    The taller one nodded and they shifted. Both of them had short, spiky hair. The taller one was a brunette, the shorter one was blonde. They were both very muscular in an attractive way, though, and, as with the other Free Women I’d met, their limbs were elongated just a bit so that they looked out of proportion compared to a human or anyone from Alpha Four. Their eyes were just like their mother’s, and also like the other Free Women’s—larger, more elongated, and a dark purple.
    They also looked younger than they had when they were disguised. Lifespans were different in the Alpha Centauri system than those of Earth, but I put them in their early 20s in terms of human years. All the Free Women resembled each other, but these two were clearly sisters—the only differences I could see were height and hair color.
    And, as per how the rest of the Free Women dressed, they were both in
Xena: Warrior Princess
wear, complete with boots and weapons. Clearly no one on Beta Twelve really liked to branch out and try a new look, ever.
    The taller one bowed at the waist. “Greetings to the