Alien Proliferation

wanted to do this now.”
    “These people need a diplomatic touch your husband seems unable or unwilling to muster. I can’t blame him for not wanting to, but we don’t have a lot of choice in who we have to deal with. They want reassurances no one from Centaurion Division has seen fit to give them. The Agency is about to go to a skeleton crew for the holidays. I want this settled and these people off my back before everyone disappears. And then I want my own questions answered privately.”
    “Like what is Alpha Team doing in Paris?” I put the photo album into the nightstand drawer, thought about it, then put the big stack of briefing materials over it. Why upset Jeff if I could avoid it?
    “Maybe.” He looked at his watch, then around the room. “I’m actually more concerned about other issues.”
    “Like what?”
    “Things that have been bothering me. And should have been bothering you, your husband, and the rest of Alpha Team for a good long while.”
    I pondered and came up with nothing. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
    Chuckie sighed, stood up, and wandered the room. “I’d like to know how it is that the traitors in the A-Cs’ midst haven’t been detected. By, say, the strongest empath and the strongest imageer on the planet. Otherwise known as your husband and his cousin.”

 
    CHAPTER 3
     
    A -CS HAD VARIOUS TALENTS that, to humans, were amazingly impressive. Not every A-C got them, but those who did had to learn how to handle them. Empaths, imageers, and troubadours were normally male, with scientific and medical aptitudes and talents falling to the females in general.
    Dream readers, like Paul Gower, who was the Head of Recruitment, aka the Pontifex’s right-hand man, and also Jeff’s cousin, were rare, and could be either sex. The cousin Chuckie was referring to, however, was Christopher White, who was the strongest imageer on the planet, just as Jeff was the strongest empath. While empaths felt emotions, imageers were able to manipulate any image, and also know all about a person by touching the image. Christopher’s explanation for this was that pictures copied the soul and mind as well as the body.
    Due to the drugs a fun group of megalomaniacs had given him during what I not so fondly called Operation Drug Addict, Jeff’s empathic talents were greatly expanded. He could feel more emotions from farther away and interpret their meanings more accurately. He could also read my mind. Just mine, so far. That I knew of or he’d told me, anyway. Meaning Chuckie’s question carried even more weight and probably a lot more suspicion on his part.
    “I have no idea. I mean, they can’t lie.”
    Chuckie shook his head. “No. Most of them can’t lie. Clearly, some of them can. The woman who was working with the Yates-Mephistopheles in-control superbeing certainly was lying.”
    “Good old Beverly. I hit her with a baseball bat.” Ah, memories. Operation Fugly never seemed all that long ago.
    “In the head. Yes, your mother told me. My point is that she’d managed to lie to everyone for years. And if she had accomplices, your mother hasn’t found them, and that means they know how to lie to both other A-Cs and humans. Per your husband, he doesn’t think any A-C can lie to him, based on emotional responses. Clearly, he’s wrong.”
    I considered this. “Is he? I mean, they’re great at avoiding the question. And, if no one went up to Beverly and said, ‘Hey, are you a traitor?’ then she’d never have had a reason to lie.”
    “Maybe. It’s something we need to work on. Something, I might add, your husband is resistant to.”
    “You think there are more A-C traitors lurking about?”
    “Yes.” The way he said it, I didn’t question. Chuckie’s nickname all through school had been Conspiracy Chuck. I hated it, but it was accurate. I preferred to call him the Conspiracy King. It was not only a more positive spin, but, as my new life among the A-Cs had proved, daily, Chuckie was always on target. Experience showed if Chuckie was positive, Chuckie was right—and he sounded positive. How depressing.
    “I was sort of hoping Beverly was an anomaly.”
    “I’m sure you were. From now on, I want you looking for the liars, not assuming there aren’t any.”
    I heaved a sigh. “No problem. I’m sure I’ll have time once I’m on maternity leave.”
    He laughed. “No, you won’t. You’re going to be busy with the baby. But I know you’ll still be able