Alien Diplomacy

chat he had planned.
    “Whatever we need to talk about can be discussed with Amy, Len, and Kyle. They’re all part of our diplomatic mission.”
    Armstrong shook his head. “I believe you’d prefer to have this conversation in private, Ambassador. Very sure.”
    Something about his tone and expression made me want to pull my Glock. However, my purse was in the room Amy and I were sharing, and besides, if I didn’t want the boys to use extreme force, it was worse if I did.
    What I really wanted was backup. I’d called for it. So why wasn’t it here already? Surely they’d had enough time to get to a gate and over here by now.
    The gates were alien technology that resembled airport security terminals more than anything else. They allowed you to travel pretty much anywhere in moments. The main gate hub was in the Dome, out in New Mexico, but there were gates all over. The majority of gates were in restroom stalls of every airport in the world, even the tiny ones. For homes, however, if the bathroom wasn’t used, the basements were.
    So, Jeff and whoever else he was bringing along should have zipped down to the Embassy’s basement, calibrated, stepped through that gate and out the gate in the basement of Martini Manor. By my count, they should have been here by the time Armstrong got through the door.
    But no, I was still backup-less. There was also no way I was having a three on one meeting with this portion of the Cabal of Evil. “I like to live on the edge, Senator. Why don’t you share your news?”
    Amy cleared her throat. “Why don’t we get out of the hallway?”
    I really wanted to get Armstrong’s info and get him back out the door, but I had to admit I wasn’t being gracious or diplomatic. “Good point, Ames.”
    Amy led us to a nearby study. This was Martini Manor—there was a nearby anything depending on your definition of “nearby.” In this case, it was only halfway down the hall.
    As with every other room in the house, the study was done in what I called Early American Expensive. The older generation of A-Cs were traditionalists to their cores, and they’d happily adopted Earth traditions the moment they arrived.
    It was also decorated in Modern Hunk, since Jeff, Christopher, and Chuckie were all sitting in the lovely club chairs this room contained, looking for all the world like they’d been here for hours.
    I would have leaped on Jeff, but I caught Chuckie’s eye and he gave me a look I was familiar with—the “play it cool” look. Know a guy more than half of your life, you know when he wants you to act nonchalant.
    Amy was clearly in on the news, because she didn’t look at all surprised. Armstrong, Gadoire, and Vance, however, clearly hadn’t been expecting this kind of company.
    Armstrong, unsurprisingly, rallied the quickest. “Ambassador Martini, how good to see you.”
    “Senator,” Jeff said with a nod. “I didn’t realize you were bringing along additional visitors.”
    Armstrong managed a weak Campaign Smile. “Well, you’ve got additional people too. Nice to see you, Mister White, Mister Reynolds.”
    Christopher gave Armstrong a cold nod. Chuckie smiled without any warmth. “I’m sure you weren’t expecting us, Senator. But it’s more social this way, isn’t it?”
    Armstrong shook his head. “I’m not here on a social call, in that sense. Ambassador,” he said to Jeff, “what I have to discuss affects you and Missus Martini. Are you sure you don’t want to ask your associates to wait outside? I have to stress that it’s a very private issue I need to discuss with you.”
    I always turned right back into Missus Martini any time Jeff was around. Supposedly I was the co-Head Diplomat, but no one seemed to buy that story, other than Jeff, who steadfastly insisted I was his equal.
    “If it’s so private I have to ask why Guy and Vance are here,” I said, before Jeff could respond.
    “We’re here to help,” Gadoire said. Vance nodded. They looked serious and concerned, and a part of me wasn’t so sure it was an act.
    Amy and I looked at each other. “Help with what?” she asked.
    “Again, it’s a private matter for the ambassadors,” Armstrong said. He gave Chuckie a long look. “Though Mister Reynolds might want to remain, as well.”
    “All of us,” Jeff said. “There’s no one here we need to hide anything from.”
    Armstrong sighed. “When you change your mind, I want you to remember that I requested privacy.” He put the