Alien Proliferation

going to switch me for a robot to get to Mom. Could have done the same thing with others. And after the shapeshifting and image overlaying from the invasion, I just like to be sure we are who we think we are.”
    Jeff got up and touched Amy’s shoulder. “Human. No superbeing.”
    “I figured you’d have noticed while you were in Paris.”
    He shrugged as he came back to the bed. “Christopher had her, not me. I was handling the rough stuff.”
    “Do you need adrenaline?” Worry, as always, crashed over me. Along with guilt because I hadn’t even thought to ask him this before.
    He kissed my forehead. “No, baby. It wasn’t that bad.”
    “Define not that bad.”
    He grinned. “Didn’t get overtired, didn’t get hurt. Hurt a lot of them. Enjoyed it.”
    “Okay, that’s fine then.”
    “The Pontifex is back on premises,” Gladys’ voice came through the com.
    Serene concentrated. She heaved a relieved sigh. “It’s him. He seems fine. A little shook up, though.”
    “Good. Someone let Christopher know.” Serene nodded and trotted out of the room. “Jeff, do you have any idea why Christopher looks so awful?”
    “No. I thought it was because we were dragged up in the middle of the night after a busy day handling suspicious superbeings in Paris.”
    “I don’t think so.” I thought about why someone’s eyes would be bloodshot. No sleep. Drinking, but since A-Cs were deadly allergic to alcohol, he’d be dead not bleary-eyed. Crying. Hmmmm. If that was it, what was he crying about? It wasn’t as if he was normally out of control, so it would have to be something really huge. Tabled for later, had to save the world right now. “So, Mom, there’s no way Ronald Yates is still alive.”
    “The media mogul? He died almost two years ago, didn’t he?” Amy sounded almost normal. Anticipated my next statements. Couldn’t be helped.
    “Ronald Yates was, in addition to being the creepiest man around, an exiled A-C, the former head of their religion, Christopher and Jeff’s grandfather, the actual head of the Al Dejahl terrorist organization, and an in-control superbeing called Mephistopheles. He was a total Renaissance Man for evil.”
    “Mephistopheles? You mean like Faust’s devil?”
    “Honors English was great, wasn’t it? Yes, exactly like Faust’s devil. Only bigger and uglier. And with the worst breath imaginable.”
    I saw realization dawn. “You killed him? You killed Ronald Yates?” She sounded horrified.
    “No. Mephistopheles let Yates die. I killed Mephistopheles. Took out the Devil, yay me. And all that.”
    Jeff took the baby and burped her. “Mommy kicks evil alien butt. You’re gonna be just like her when you grow up, aren’t you, Jamie-Kat?”
    “Jamie-Kat?”
    He grinned. “Sticking with your Nono Dom’s theme and all.” My mother’s father had made cat jokes from the moment my mother had introduced him to my father. He’d shared that he expected Jeff to be a big tomcat and take care of me. Jeff was all over the big tomcat idea. I didn’t mind it, either. He always reminded me of a big cat, in all the positive ways.
    Mom laughed. “I think it’s cute. Your father will love it, kitten.”
    “You killed Ronald Yates?” Amy wasn’t letting this one go.
    “Ames, was he a close family friend?”
    “Well, no. But my parents knew him.”
    “Mom, get Chuckie in here, pronto. Jeff, no snarling. Seriously, need him to hear this.” Mom trotted to the hallway, and Jeff grunted. I thought about his naked body.
    “Okay, fine, I’ll behave. Just keep your mind where it’s at.”
    I tried to move, and then Jeff and Reader helped me. Got situated so I was leaning against Jeff’s chest. Reader sat next to me and took Jamie. He leaned her against his shoulder and rocked her. She went right to sleep. Yeah, I found his shoulder totally a great place to be, too.
    Mom came back with Chuckie. “Ames, you want to expand on your last statement? Your parents were friends with Ronald Yates?” Chuckie’s eyebrow went up.
    “Not friends, but acquaintances. They knew him. I think my dad might have done some business with him, but not a lot.”
    I looked at Mom. “What is Mister Gaultier’s business? Not the one he told Amy about, the real one. I ask,” I explained to Amy, “because, as I discovered, parents lie like wet rugs a lot of the time.”
    “Geez, get over it,” Mom sighed. “He’s a legitimate businessman or I’d never have let you be so close to Amy.