Alien Tango

the planet. He was my oldest friend, and I wanted so badly to let him know he’d been right all this time.
    But I had a scary-high security clearance for a reason, and that clearance didn’t allow me to tell Chuckie anything about what I did now. I took a deep breath, let it out, and shoved the guilt and desire down and away. “I promise. Same for you, you know. If you need me, let me know and I’ll be there.” Okay, I pushed the desire to tell away. The guilt seemed to enjoy hanging on.
    He sighed. “I hope so.” He cleared his throat. “You be careful.”
    “You, too. Chuckie?”
    “Yeah?”
    “You’ll always be my friend, right?”
    I could hear the smile in his voice. “Right.”
    “Then everything’s right with my world.”
    “Mine too, Kitty,” he said slowly. “Mine too.”

CHAPTER 5
    WE HUNG UP, and I felt worried for no good reason. It was close to time to go to my parents’, and I had no idea how long Martini was going to be.
    On cue my phone rang. “You’re really stressed,” Martini said, in a low voice. “Why?” I got the impression he wasn’t alone and didn’t want this call broadcast.
    “Oh, just wondering if we’re going to be late for dinner.” I wondered if he could pick up that I was lying from this far away and prayed he couldn’t.
    “Right.” He didn’t sound like he’d bought it. Damn. “Our contact held us up calling his girlfriend,” Martini snarled. “So we’re going to be here longer.”
    “You’re calling your girlfriend,” I pointed out. Not that I had any idea of why I felt defending the nameless C.I.A. bigwig mattered. An interesting thought occurred. “Ooooh. Is he married and do you think he was calling his mistress?”
    “This isn’t Desperate Housewives ,” Martini snapped. “And no, to my knowledge, he’s not married. Looking to trade up?”
    “I’ve got the leader of the A-C pack. No need to make roster changes at this time.” Let alone to some likely old, paunchy, balding guy who probably resembled a mangy ferret. At least, if I took how Martini and Christopher tended to describe anyone and everyone at the C.I.A. as an example.
    “I’m so relieved.” Martini’s sarcasm meter was already at full. I felt bad for Mr. C.I.A. Dude.
    “Jeff, relax. What’s our status for tonight?”
    He sighed. “Go ahead to your parents’ without me, baby.”
    “You sure I shouldn’t wait for you?”
    “I’ll be there as soon as I can, but trust me, it’s going to take either a floater gate or hyperspeed.”
    “Okay! I’ll head right over now. Can I take my car?”
    “Sure. I love you.”
    “I love you, too, Jeff.”
    “Good to know.” He sounded happier as we hung up than when he’d called, which was good.
    I had my purse, and my parents didn’t stand on ceremony, so no need to change. I headed for the top level, where, among other things, the motor pool was stored. The top level at the Science Center was actually the ground floor—the Center went down fifteen stories. The A-Cs had really done wondrous things with simulated lighting—it always seemed like proper daylight when it was supposed to.
    I retrieved my car—a black Lexus IS300, stick shift, leather interior, turned on a dime, zero to sixty in a lot faster than I’d ever admit to a cop or my father. I loved my car. It stood out in the motor pool, too. Almost every vehicle the A-Cs had was a shade of gray. They’d never explained why, and the answer was still low on my long list of things to find out.
    Had to do the slow, horrible gate transfer from Dulce to Caliente Base. I’d long ago stopped trying to be macho about it and closed my eyes the moment it started. I could always tell when it was over—my stomach settled down.
    Caliente Base was smaller than the Science Center, but it was still a typical A-C base, meaning the top floor was ground level and everything else went down from there. Of course, “smaller” was a relative term. I had no clear idea of how huge the Science Center really was, but I’d been there for five months and knew I hadn’t explored every part of every floor yet—and not because I wasn’t interested. Because I always got lost. I had the distinct impression it was the equivalent of fifteen Pentagons, maybe more.
    Caliente Base was merely very, very large. It was built on a supposed alien crash site. I tried not to think of Chuckie and failed. We’d hiked around here when we were younger, searching for said site, but hadn’t found the