Dreadknot, p.5
Dreadknot, page 5
This is how the history books would remember us.
I glanced into the living room, drying a plate that could have rivaled the Sahara about a minute ago. “I should probably tell my dog to leave the president alone.”
“He’ll manage,” said Zander, as he put the last of the mugs away. Blayde sat on the counter beside him, decidedly not helping. “Plus, I heard Terrans have a thing for therapy dogs.”
“Why is the American president here, exactly?” I asked. “He only learned about the aliens after the Youpaf attack. It's not like he's well trained in interstellar diplomacy.”
“He was closest,” said Foollegg. She had somehow obtained a fresh skin wrap and strode in on sunshine, looking like a grown-up Elle Woods. James stood warily by her side. “Alliance procedure dictates we need three parties present during any political negotiations: the two writing the accord and a neutral third party. President Danirshna insisted we keep everything local and quiet. She said she preferred an excuse to meet Trudeau, but then her wife got angry about something she calls a free pass...”
I stashed that information away for the next time I got a girls’ night with Marcy. If we ever got a chance to talk any of this over.
“Well, we'd better get situated,” said Foollegg. “Don't you have anything better to wear?”
“This is traditional American garb,” said Blayde, indicating the face of Minnie Mouse blazoned on her chest. “It would be offensive to ask us to change.”
“Well, I don't want to be accused of cultural appropriation,” she replied.
“Fair point.”
One of the camera crew guided her to the sofa, and then beyond, until her sweatpants were perfectly hidden behind the seat. I was made to sit at my mom's usual place—all of two feet from the President of the United States, white-faced and clutching mom’s favorite flowery cushion. He glanced up as I took my place, eyes widening.
“Not you too,” he said.
“Um, hello, Mr. President. Long time no see?”
The last time I’d had any interaction with the man, we were having an undercover luncheon at a sushi bar as the Youpaf ship barreled down on D.C., and I’d accidentally made myself alien bait. That was over three years ago now, and he was nearing the end of his second term, evident by the shock of white hair that had taken over his scalp. The dark circles under his eyes were more pronounced, a sign of the times.
“This morning,” he said, “an alien pops up into my office and hands me official papers dated as far back as the forties, interrupting me from the Cincinnati protests. Anything to do with you?”
“It’s a long story.”
He probably expected me to tell a long story, but since I didn't know anything beyond drunk-driving aliens, I was at a total loss.
“I suppose I should apologize,” he said.
“What for?”
“Remember that incident with the ship that was trying to roast us?”
Oh, no, I totally forgot the time the USA picked me as a human sacrifice. “Yes?”
“I never got time to thank you. To tell the truth, I thought you were dead until you were wanted for murder. You did your country a great service that day. With the planet saving, not the murder.”
I brushed a strand of hair behind my ear. A thank you was the last thing I'd expected. “Just doing my civic duty, sir.”
“You owe her much more than just thanks,” said Blayde, making the president shuffle deeper into his cushion. “She's putting a lot on the line for your puny country.”
“Who are you?” He twisted his neck farther back than it probably should have gone. “What are you doing here again?”
“Oh, excuse my manners.” She flashed him a pearly-white smile. “I'm Blayde. Pleasure.”
“Blayde? Is that Australian?”
“If you'd like. As for what I’m doing here, apparently the entire universe is experiencing simultaneous Dread, and we have to figure out why. Why us? Because Sally’s going around making deals with people she shouldn’t be messing with. What kind of deals? Well, if she solves the riddle, then Earth will get a full defense force protecting it from alien invaders. That’s something you can get behind, right?”
President Turner furrowed his brows. “I thought that was the whole point of the Agency’s existence?”
“And what a great job they’ve been doing of it,” I said, letting out a heavy breath.
“We’re here to make sure the Agency keeps up their side of the agreement,” added Blayde. “They want good diplomatic connections with you in case we go rogue.”
He shuddered. And too bad for him because his economic policy wasn't all that great to begin with, so I wasn't going to comfort him.
“Don't stare at the neck,” she instructed. “Look them in the eye. They're incredibly self-conscious.”
“Who?”
As if to answer his question, the room fell silent, a strong electrical hum filling the small space. An instant later, Stook fully materialized on the coffee table. His head immediately collided against the ceiling lamp, and he swore as he rubbed his bowling-ball scalp, stepping off the table toward the president, who hadn't noticed anything beyond the fact that an alien was standing before him.
Then she arrived.
As human as she was, Dany was more otherworldly than even Stook. She alighted on the coffee table dressed in a military uniform so white and crisp I would have thought she was Origami . She had shorn off her long blonde hair, leaving it tapered short at the back of her neck, dipping forward with a razor-sharp edge. What had once been her signature side sweep was now a short, diagonal bang, the longest hair casually sweeping her perfectly shaped eyebrow. Medals dripped down her chest like she had been dipped in gold.
Marcy didn’t show. I pressed my lips tight. I don’t know why I expected her to be here, but seeing Dany without her made my breath hitch.
“With everyone here, I guess we can start,” said Stook, dropping himself into Dad’s La-Z-Boy.
“Indeed,” said Dany—should I be calling her Danirshna? Dany doesn't seem to convey half of what she was—as she turned.
Not toward Zander or Blayde.
Not toward the president of my home country.
Toward me, to shake my hand.
It was then that I realized—too late, perhaps—that this was my negotiation.
Oh shit. After all this talk of being their point of contact, of keeping Zander and Blayde out of this, I still believed they’d be dealing with them instead of me. Maybe Zander was right—that I was putting all these expectations on them—but they were the leaders, the fighters, and I was just the glorified intern trying to learn the ropes.
I took a deep breath. This time, I had to be enough. For my people, for my planet.
“We have drafted the agreement between our two parties.” Dany handed me a tablet. I scanned the document, trying to decipher the jargon stuffed in each line. This wasn't software terms of agreement I could just check off without reading.
“You say here you retain the services of the Iron and the Sand.” There was a wobble to my speech, and I reached for a glass of water on the table. Great first start.
“Yes.”
“You don't. This agreement is just with me. They're just... consultants. If they want to help me, they can, but they're not part of the package.”
Dany's brow furrowed. I had to see her not as my friend but as the leader of billions, someone who held the future of my planet in her hands. She wasn’t impartial. But if she was working with me, she would be working with me.
“Then the blanket pardon would only apply to you,” she said coolly.
“I thought you said you trusted us. They are guilty of nothing and need no records expunged.”
Dany kept her face stern. “We don't know how you operate. We can't offer as much for such a small asset.”
I tried not to take that personally. “Do you want help or not?”
We were the only ones to speak for the next hour, arguing the finer points of the treaty. The extent of my help and of the Agency's. If they wanted their Disney World vacations, they would have to play by the rules and fully defend Earth against invasion rather than sit back on their asses. I fought for clauses for feeding, reminding everyone of what happened the last time beings used Terrans for food unchecked. Twice, in the same month, in the same country, I'd had to step in. Who knew who else was running rampant.
In exchange, they wanted more of me. Ways to reach me and, by extent, the siblings. Control over them I would not let them take.
I would be their buffer.
We wrote the treaty and signed it in blood. And in spit. And in hair. There were a lot of biometrics involved, and they weren’t the fun kind.
Almost the instant the new deal was settled, the president was whisked away by his Secret Service agents without so much as a goodbye. Then went the Alliance film crew. Secret Service tried to keep their cool as they shook hands with Agency men in skin wraps, some looking less surprised than others. Stook gave us each a stern glance before fizzling out, leaving the room quiet.
“So, what are you going to do next?” Dany asked, taking a drink of her water. The subtle shift in tone was enough to indicate our old friend was back, despite the lingering security guards who flanked her.
“We've got a contact who might be able to help us find out what the Dread really is,” I said. If I was in charge of this investigation, then we’d be turning to the only contact I knew, Meedian Gray. Our future selves were buddy-buddies with his past self, and he’d helped us with the Cross case when our timelines finally aligned.
“Though, no offense, we're not open to discussing them with the Alliance.” Zander shot me a glance, and I shot him one back. Did he really think I would reveal our friend to the very people he was hiding from? He couldn’t possibly think I was that stupid. I suppose he wasn’t going to let me run this without training wheels. They say never mix work with pleasure, and I get it now. It was hard to feel butterflies from my sexy boyfriend when he was acting all high and mighty and planet save-y at your expense.
Dany shook her head. “I'm sorry for... this.”
And, just as suddenly as she arrived, she was gone. Whatever teleportation technology the Agency used to reel her in left the air sizzling where she had stood.
I stared down at my hands. I’d just signed myself away to them, sealing my future and the future of my entire planet. I could have really used Marcy by my side, but they had kept her from me. I turned to Zander for reassurance, but Foollegg was already hounding him.
“When do we leave?” she asked, her lip quivering with anticipation.
Oh no. She couldn’t be coming with us, could she? After everything she’d put us through? I bit my tongue to contain my outburst.
“You can’t come with us,” said Zander, saving me from being the bearer of bad news. “Our contacts won't appreciate being outed to the Alliance.”
“But you work for us now,” she said, her mouth a wobbly O. “We’re meant to be investigating this together. For the good of all of us.”
“With you,” said Blayde. Her tone cool and even. “We can keep you apprised of our progress, but we can’t bring you with us.”
Foollegg blinked. “Tell you what, take Felling. She's not part of the Agency, but she's still my partner. Isn't that right, James? You'll keep your dear partner up to date with their actions, won't you?”
“I'm not a pet for you to discuss custody of,” James spat. “If I go with them, it’s because I want to.”
“And do you?”
“Oh, hell yes.”
“Then it's agreed. Felling will go with you.”
“Hey, wait, don't we get a say in this?” said Zander. “It's not like we need an extra pair of hands. She's going to—”
“I vote we take her,” said Blayde. All eyes turned to her, as if to check this was the real Blayde. “No, I mean it, Zander. It'll be useful to have a connection to the Agency without actually having to take an agent with us. Plus, we’ve worked with Felling before.”
My gut could have won gold at the Olympic diving event. James was going to come with us. James. It made sense for her to join us, but the fact that Blayde was the one to suggest it made me queasy. She barely wanted me around, and now she was inviting others?
James is just better than you.
I shook my head. Where had that thought come from?
“Keep your bills, and I'll reimburse you for travel costs,” said Foollegg. “I'd best be off then. I'll see you all soon, all right? James, you know where to reach me.”
“Don't worry about us.”
“Never have.”
With that, Foollegg poofed out of existence, leaving the four of us to save the universe.
“So, where exactly are we going?”
Despite both of James’s feet being firmly planted on the floor, there was a bounce to her words. I took a deep breath. For all this talk of this being my investigation, Blayde was going around building our team. It’s not that I didn’t want James with us, but I knew how dangerous this could get and I didn’t want a repeat of Nim. Just the thought of him—I shuddered. Even knowing he survived, I couldn’t forget the dark cloud that had hung over us after his loss.
We couldn’t lose James too.
Blayde turned on the stereo. The playlist from last night’s party filled the air with the chirpy shrieks of teenage glee, all grated on by a deep rumble, enough to cover our voices in case the Agency had taken the opportunity to bug the house.
“First of all, Felling, we’re only bringing you along because we know you won’t blab,” she said. “You tell anyone, and they’ll be the last person you’ll ever talk to. Fair?”
“Shall I list how many secrets I’m keeping for you already?”
“Great!” Blayde now turned to me. “So, where are we going?”
“Meedian’s.” At least he was on Earth and getting there was low risk. I turned to James. “He’s an off-worlder with off-world connections—if you pay, of course. He might be clued in to the underworld chatter about the Dread or whoever is tampering with the SHC.”
“Can he be trusted? How long have you known him?” she asked.
“We met him while we were helping you out with that Cross case,” I said.
James raised a brow. “So, like, a week ago—for you.”
“Well, our future selves trust him,” added Zander. “Told him everything there is to know about us. And, at this point, with the great library completely destroyed, he’s the only person we know who’d be able to help us track down this so-called Dread.”
“Explain to me how we are getting to Malaysia?” Blayde crossed her arms, staring intensely at me. Her eagerness for answers seemed to be currently at a lower priority than her need to glare. “We can’t exactly borrow an Agency shuttle without tipping them off to our location, legally or illegally.”
“And security’s been upped at Area 51 after your little stunt, so don’t even try pulling that shit again.” James glared at us each in turn. We deserved that for screwing her over and costing her her credibility within the not-FBI. I should have bought her a gift basket to apologize.
“Need some dental work on those molars, James? I can hear them grinding from here.” Blayde’s grin stretched ear to ear. “I’m really good at it, you know. I was in deep cover for almost twenty years as a small-town dentist on Panga. Sure, most of my patients had been a little on the feline side—”
What was she going on about? Blayde was never this chatty; it was almost Zander-level. I shook my head, trying to focus. Even as we talked, I could feel the tug of Meedian’s compound like a butterfly’s kiss on my cheek. I could jump there in a heartbeat, the same way I’d reeled us all home after the ball. It was so easy for me, but not for the siblings, who had been jumping for centuries, millennia even. How could I do what they couldn’t? How could I find my way around the backstage of the universe while they stumbled around in the dark fumbling for a light? Maybe Cross really had messed with my brain when he had crawled around inside my head. The thought churned my stomach.
Zander wrapped a protective arm around me, maybe sensing my nerves. I could tell him, couldn’t I? I could tell him right here and now that I was different, a freak among freaks. But I couldn’t tell him for the same reason I couldn’t tell my parents the truth: I was clinging to any shred of normalcy I could still get.
“What about commercial flight?” said James. Blayde made a retching motion into my mom’s fichus. “Foollegg did say she’d reimburse us for travel expenses.”
“She’d then be able to track us right to our source,” said Zander. “We can’t put Meedian in danger that way.”
“Then just swim while you’re at it,” said James. Zander glanced at Blayde, lifting an eyebrow. She shrugged. “No, no. I didn’t mean it.”
At least one lie was still running smoothly. I took a deep breath. If I was meant to save the universe, then I was going to have to put all my cards on the table.
“I should be able to find the place,” I announced. “If we spent as much time there in the future-past as Meedian says we have.”
“Maybe,” said Blayde, nodding. “You did manage to bring us back here and not get us lost in the fabric of time. Still not sure how you pulled it off.”
“I guess I love my parents as much as I love Zander?”
I knew it was the wrong thing to say the second I opened my mouth. Her upper lip twitched ever so slightly. Shit.
“What does love have to do with anything, exactly?” asked James.
“How much do you know about our jumping?”
Zander pulled me tighter to him. Protective. James shrugged.
“The long and short of it is that our jumps are random. It wasn’t a problem when Blayde and I were on our own, but now—”
“Now that Zander has certain attachments, we can’t allow ourselves to go just anywhere. Especially now we know the time-travel variable is thrown in. But Sally seems to have hacked the system ‘cuz she lurves Zander oh so very much.”
