Alien vs. Alien

happened to Colonel Hamlin.” Apparently not everyone’s father had shared wisdom of the ages with them. Which was good for me.
    “I know I speak for the Ambassador when I say we’d like more information,” White said.
    Franklin nodded. “My move to this position has been in the works for the past few months because the Top Brass feel that someone who is more . . . positively disposed toward Centaurion Division would be a better choice than someone who is somewhat . . .”
    “Xenophobic,” Morgan finished. “I’ve gotten intel from my former counterpart. Colonel Hamlin is not a fan of Centaurion Division.”
    “That former counterpart would be Cliff Goodman?”
    “One and the same,” Morgan said. “Cliff stressed that Colonel Hamlin is a good man, but he’s also not pro-alien. Because of the variety of circumstances that have happened over the past few months, moving Colonel Franklin to Andrews was the best choice, even though that leaves us with a new commander in New Mexico.” I managed not to ask if the circumstances had been the fact that we’d moved in as the American Centaurion Diplomatic Corps. Mostly because I was fairly sure the answer was a big yes.
    “Not that you’re biased, Gil,” Franklin said with a grin.
    “Wait. You ran Area Fifty-One?”
    “Yes. And I loved it. This wasn’t a post I requested, but it was impressed upon me that it was necessary. However, the transition has not been smooth.”
    “Hamlin didn’t want to leave?”
    “Our information was that he was happy to go to another post,” Morgan said. “He was moving to the Department of Defense in an important role.”
    “Was?”
    Franklin shook his head. “We have no idea where Colonel Hamlin is. Formal transition was to have been in a week. I was contacted yesterday, when no one could find Colonel Hamlin.”
    “A high-ranking Air Force officer goes AWOL and no one questions?”
    “Oh, we questioned,” Franklin said with a grimace. “However, the last time anyone saw him was Friday at thirteen-hundred-hours—he went off-base for lunch. No one’s seen him since, and no one seems to have any idea what happened to him.”
    “Other than the suspicion that he ran away,” Morgan said.
    “Ran away? What from?”
    Both officers stared at me. “The impending alien invasion,” Franklin said finally. “You know, the one you know about but haven’t yet told me
how
you know about it.”
    “Ah.” I cleared my throat. “Any chance you know what’s happened to my husband and Charles Reynolds?”
    I got another long look from both of them. “What are you talking about?” Franklin asked carefully. Then he jumped. “Where the hell did that come from?”
    Looked where Franklin was pointing and Morgan was staring. Bruno looked back at me. I did some fast thinking. “You let Malcolm see you.” Bruno bobbed his head. “Because I can trust him completely, right?” Another head bob. “Ergo, if you’ve gone visible to the colonel and captain here, it’s because you feel we can trust them, too, right?” Another head bob accompanied by a feather fluff.
    “You’re talking to the peacock?” Morgan asked carefully.
    “Bruno’s actually a Peregrine from Alpha Four. Royal birds, totally kick-butt fighters, too. And they can go invisible, so to speak. Bruno says that any good friend of my Uncle Mort’s is a good friend of mine, sort of thing.”
    “Oh, good,” Franklin said weakly. “There’s nothing in my briefing papers about—what did you call them?”
    “Peregrines, and no, they don’t look like falcons, I know. And there wouldn’t be because they just arrived last night, and Chuckie hasn’t had time to do an update because he’s been kidnapped by our enemies along with my husband.” I looked at Bruno. “Mind reading or empathy?”
    Bruno did some feather fluffing and head bobbing.
    “A limited form of empathy combined with keen animal senses. Okay, works for me.” Who was I, the wife of Mr. Empath Extraordinaire, to argue?
    “I really want a full explanation,” Franklin said. “Now.”
    “Mister White?”
    “I believe Bruno’s given you the go-ahead for full disclosure, Missus Martini.”
    Chose not to marvel about how we were now taking our cues from a space avian, studiously avoided contemplating my latest Dr. Doolittle moment, and just went for what I was becoming the best of the best of the best at—the High-Level Recap. Started with Armstrong’s visit and carried on right through my