Alien Tango

entrance. I assumed it had been cloaked—the A-Cs had alien technology that would have made the Star Trek people sue for copyright infringement if they’d ever found out about it.
    Like the Science Center and every other A-C base, the motor pool was on the ground level. I waved merrily and headed out for real daylight. It felt the same as A-C light.
    I enjoyed the drive to my parents’ house. It almost felt alien, to drive myself through the streets of Pueblo Caliente at a normal rate of speed. No gates, no hyperspeed, no limo with someone else acting as driver.
    My phone rang. Happily, one of the many A-C bells and whistles that had been added onto my car was a hands-free system. It resided on automatic answer. “Hello?”
    “Hey, Kit-Kat! How’s things back in the ’burg?” It was Caroline, my sorority roommate. We still used our sorority nicknames because, well, they fit.
    “Yo, Caro Syrup! Sunny and smiling, as always. What’s up?”
    “I got the job!” she squealed.
    I squealed back. Then reality hit. “Um . . . what job?”
    She laughed. “With the senator. I told you about it.” I thought frantically. She had. Caroline was a lot better with the written correspondence than I was. She sent notes to every girl in our pledge class, her sister-line up and down, and anyone else from the sorority she’d liked, which was pretty much everyone, at least once a quarter. Individual notes. Handwritten. And somehow, she found time to work, eat, and sleep.
    “Oh, right. That’s great. When do you start?”
    “This week. Had my orientation and everything.”
    “Make sure no one turns you into the Lurid Intern Story of the Week.”
    She snorted. “Our senator’s not like that. He’s a sweetie and very protective, and his wife’s really involved. She’s awesome. And a sister,” she added a tad reproachfully.
    Sluggish memory reared its head. Our sorority had a lot of successful alumnae, and one of them had indeed married the senior senator from Arizona. “Great that she helped you land the job.”
    “Oh, your mom and Chuck helped, too. I saw him for lunch, by the way. He’s looking great.”
    “The senator?” What was my mother doing helping anyone get a job? She’d never helped me get a job. I assumed Caroline had used Chuckie for a reference. References from rich, brilliant guys were always good to have.
    “Wow, are you in the middle of something?”
    “Only driving.”
    “Well, pull over and pay attention. I see the senator every day now. No, I had lunch with Chuck.”
    “Oh.” A thought occurred. “Are you two dating?”
    “No, you have nothing to worry about,” she said with a laugh.
    “Huh?”
    She sighed. “You know what I love most about you?”
    “My musical tastes?”
    “Yes, but no. You never change.”
    “I think I should resent that.”
    “Don’t. I have to go. Give my love to your parents, and tell your mom thanks.”
    “Will do. Keep me posted on stuff.”
    “Will do. Chuck looks great ,” she added.
    “Good to hear. He’s in D.C.?” This was normally the part of the year when Chuckie was in Australia most or all of the time.
    “Yes.” The way she said it, I could hear the “duh.”
    “Well, you could’ve been in Australia.”
    Caroline laughed. “Or in Paraguay.”
    “Hold that thought and don’t hang up!” I pulled over and parked. “What do you mean about Paraguay?”
    “Oh, there was a military action there today. The government’s concerned. It seems to be under control, but it’s the usual ‘do we need to get involved’ stuff. The senator might be sent down there as part of an investigative committee. He says it’s a waste of time, but if he goes, I get to go, too, so I’m sort of hoping it happens.”
    “Keep me in the loop on that, will you?”
    “It’s kind of classified. I probably shouldn’t have told you this much.”
    “I already knew about it.”
    She was quiet for a moment. “News travels fast.” “You have no idea. Just keep me apprised of what you can, okay? As a sort of sister favor?”
    She sighed. “Will do.” Well, it was something. Maybe I finally had a Washington “insider” on my speed dial. “Now I really have to go. Catch you later, Kit-Kat!”
    “Talk to you in a few, Caro Syrup!”
    We hung up. and I sat there for a few minutes. I wasn’t hooked into the governmental stuff like Martini and Christopher were. For all I knew, the U.S. government always “got concerned’ when we had superbeing activity