Alien Proliferation

what we haven’t seen before? Something tells me I should be worried about this, but pressing duty calls—it’s time for my nap.

 
    CHAPTER 1
     
    T HE DAY STARTED OUT like all the days had in recent memory—I was confined to my bed while everyone else got to do fun things like fly jets, kill the random parasitic superbeing that might have passed up the Alpha Centaurion system for a vacation out Earth’s way, or just walk around. Interspecies pregnancy, it was a joy.
    Jeff came out of our walk-in closet like always, in his perfectly fitted black Armani suit and white shirt, tightening his tie. This meant nothing, other than he was dressed and ready for action. A-Cs love their Armani and formality.
    He hypersped our breakfast trays to the living room area of our living quarters—what I called his Human Lair—zoomed back, leaned down, gave me a kiss, and rubbed my tummy. “How’re you feeling, baby?”
    “Bored, frustrated, tired, and, oh, did I mention bored?”
    I got the standard “good husband chuckle” that I’d gotten really used to these past couple of months. “It won’t be for too much longer.”
    The com came to life. “Commander Martini, situation in Paris. Euro Base is requesting you and Commander White, and I quote, immediately if not sooner.”
    Jeff went from relaxed to all business immediately. “Got it, Gladys. I’ll meet Commander White at the launch area.” He gave me the hairy eyeball. “And you’ll be staying in bed.”
    “Commander Martini, reminder that you have a meeting scheduled in less than an hour,” Gladys shared.
    “Cancel it,” Jeff snapped.
    “Sorry, Commander Martini, I assumed you were already at the launch site, since Euro Base has an emergency.” Gladys could get a lot of sarcasm into what, in other mouths, would be mere statements of fact. “I’m talking to Commander Mother-to-Be Martini.”
    “Huh? Oh, me.” Right. Married name. You’d think I’d be used to it. Still wasn’t, almost nine months in. Barely used to thinking of Jeff as Jeff versus Martini, let alone thinking of myself as Kitty Martini versus Kitty Katt. And Gladys knew it, which was why I knew she enjoyed moments like this. “What are we talking about?”
    “You have a meeting.” I couldn’t see her, but I felt sure Gladys was rolling her eyes.
    “I do? Oh! Right, I do.”
    I got a hairier eyeball from Jeff. “Just whom do you have a meeting with?”
    “The C.I.A. Discussing what we’re going to do while I’m out for maternity leave.”
    Jeff growled. “You mean Reynolds is going to be here, in our bedroom, with you, while I’m in Paris?” Jeff had disliked Charles Reynolds even before he’d found out that we’d known each other since ninth grade.
    “No. I mean my oldest friend, one of my two best guy friends, and someone I’ve known since I was thirteen is going to be here, discussing work.” The growling continued. I heaved a sigh. “The jealousy chat. It’s been working so well with everyone else. Why do you persist in the Chuckie-jealousy?”
    “Because I’m an empath, and I can feel exactly how he feels about you.”
    “I’m sure he’s past it.”
    “I’m sure he’s not.”
    “Jeff, really, the jealousy is so hard to take right now.”
    “It’s not jealousy. It’s fact. He’s still waiting. Patiently.” The way he said it, I realized he wasn’t kidding.
    “Well, I don’t know why. I’m in love with you and have been pretty much since we met.”
    “He’s not waiting for you to get tired of me. He’s waiting for me to make another mistake, where it makes more sense for you to leave me and go to him.” His expression made it clear he was reliving old guilt.
    “Jeff, you were drugged out of your mind by our enemies. It was well over a year ago. And I was heartbroken, and all I wanted was to have it all have been a bad dream and you still love me. Which is what happened. Now, I’d love to continue to have this fight, again, but apparently Paris is calling you. I, on the other hand, get to have a video conference with people at the C.I.A. because, and this time I quote, your husband isn’t being at all cooperative.”
    Jeff ran his hand through his hair. “They want things we can’t and shouldn’t give them.”
    “No argument. Chuckie agrees with you. He’s trying to keep us from becoming the War Division. Isn’t it nice that the head of the C.I.A.’s Extraterrestrial Division is on our side?”
    “He’s on your side, I’ll give