Alien Proliferation

took, and wishing it would go faster never sped anything up—I had lots of experience with Jeff in isolation to know that by now.
    “Paul, go through now,” White said. Gower hugged me, nodded to White, who was still on his phone, then walked through the gate. “Good, thank you. We would like to go to Notre Dame now. Oh, really? Interesting. Then, land us elsewhere. Perfect.” He looked at me. “The team has been, as near as Gladys can tell, captured. No idea of how. They landed in the square in front of the cathedral and went off the grid then.”
    “So, where are we going?”
    White was back to his call. “Wonderful. Yes, going through together. Thank you.” He hung up and took my hand, then we walked through the gate.
    And out into a bathroom.

 
    CHAPTER 53
     
    A T LEAST, I THOUGHT it was a bathroom. It was a small, disgusting room with a hole in the tiled floor, and that was about it. The smell was horrifying, almost as bad as the smell of dead fugly. “Where, in God’s name, are we? Besides the grossest exit point of my Centaurion career, and since I’ve been in a variety of Third World airports now, this is really saying a lot.”
    “Bathroom in a little café down the street from the cathedral.” White edged us around the hole. “There are many times I’m thankful the Ancients landed in the United States.”
    “Dude, I am so with you. Let’s get out of here.”
    Opened the door, walked out. No one even blinked at us. Paris was a lot like Vegas in that way—anything went.
    I dragged us to the counter and ordered two chocolate croissants and two café au laits. In decent French. I mean, it had been years, but it’s not hard to get that particular order out in native tongue. While we waited for our order, I forced White to take off his jacket and tie, which I used as an impromptu belt. Made him unbutton his shirt a bit and roll up the sleeves. Order arrived, White paid. Somehow, he had Euros, not dollars. I decided not to ask. Maybe he had his own personal A-C Elf.
    We munched and sipped as we walked outside. “Not that I mind the snack, since I was a bit peckish, but why?”
    “Everyone else barged in. Everyone else looked like a Centaurion operative, including Chuckie, since he seems to have adapted and wears an Armani suit all the time now. Which is freaky, in that sense.”
    “You look like a tourist who likes rock and roll. What do I look like now?”
    I snuggled next to him. “My sugar daddy.”
    “I await Jeffrey’s reaction with mild terror. Though I’m relieved the weather isn’t too cold. However, this feels quite awkward.”
    “Pretend. Because I think the only way we’re getting in there is if we look like tourists.”
    “Won’t they recognize us?”
    “Maybe. Maybe not. Not sure how they’re identifying our agents, other than dress and showing up via a gate right where they expect us.”
    We took our time eating. Well, sort of. We were both hungry, so the croissants disappeared fast. Sipped the coffee while we looked around. “Missus Martini, do you spy what I spy?”
    “Yeah. A tonnage of children in uniforms. It’s school field trip day at Notre Dame, isn’t it?”
    “Looks that way. Meaning the best test subjects in the world are about to be infected.”
    “I agree. By the way, since we’re going undercover and all, at least until we’re blown, which, for us, could be in two seconds, call me Kathy and I’ll call you Rick.”
    “Why?” He didn’t sound thrilled about the nickname.
    “Because everyone calls me Kitty, and no one calls you Rick. It’s part of our supercool disguise, Rick honey.”
    White managed not to wince. “Are you sure people won’t just assume, far more correctly, that I’m your father?”
    “Rick, this is Paris, land of mistresses. It’s different for A-Cs, I guess, but trust me—as long as I put my arm around your waist, you put your arm around my shoulders, and we act lovey, everyone will assume you’re a typical cradle robber and I’m your sort of trophy wife.”
    “A quick brush of your hair might make that more believable.”
    “Wow, I see where Christopher’s snark comes from.” Pulled out my brush and did the hair thing. Noted I had all six Poofs with me. “Huh. Fluffy, Fuzzball, and Toby all did a runner. They’re with us, Mister . . . ah, Rick.”
    “I see you’re as comfortable with the subterfuge as I am . . . Kathy.”
    “You can call me honey, too. Just avoid ‘baby’ and maybe Jeff won’t