Alien in Chief Read online

  Raves for the Alien novels:

  “From alternate realities to alternate galaxies, Koch takes us on the wildest adventures. But it is the camaraderie between the characters that keeps the over-the-top tale grounded and compelling.”

  —RT Book Reviews (top pick)

  “Koch still pulls the neat trick of quietly weaving in plot threads that go unrecognized until they start tying together—or snapping. This is a hyperspeed-paced addition to a series that shows no signs of slowing down.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “Aliens, danger, and romance make this a fast-paced, wittily written sf romantic comedy.”

  —Library Journal

  “Gini Koch’s Kitty Katt series is a great example of the lighter side of science fiction. Told with clever wit and non-stop pacing . . . it blends diplomacy, action and sense of humor into a memorable reading experience.”

  —Kirkus

  “The action is nonstop, the snark flies fast and furious. . . . Another fantastic addition to an imaginative series!”

  —Night Owl Sci-Fi (top pick)

  “Ms. Koch has carved a unique niche for herself in the sci-fi-romance category with this series. My only hope is that it lasts for a very long time.”

  —Fresh Fiction

  “This delightful romp has many interesting twists and turns as it glances at racism, politics, and religion en route . . . will have fanciers of cinematic sf parodies referencing Men in Black, Ghost Busters, and X-Men.”

  —Booklist (starred review)

  “I am a huge fan of Gini Koch, and this series. I adore the world building. I love the sarcasm, banter, romance, mystery, action, and a slew of superhero-like characters that stand up against evil wherever they go.”

  —Gizmo’s Reviews

  DAW Books Presents GINI KOCH’s

  Alien Novels:

  TOUCHED BY AN ALIEN

  ALIEN TANGO

  ALIEN IN THE FAMILY

  ALIEN PROLIFERATION

  ALIEN DIPLOMACY

  ALIEN VS. ALIEN

  ALIEN IN THE HOUSE

  ALIEN RESEARCH

  ALIEN COLLECTIVE

  UNIVERSAL ALIEN

  ALIEN SEPARATION

  ALIEN IN CHIEF

  CAMP ALIEN

  (coming in 2016)

  Copyright © 2015 by Jeanne Cook.

  All Rights Reserved.

  Cover art by Daniel Dos Santos.

  Cover design by G-Force Design.

  DAW Book Collectors No. 1713.

  Published by DAW Books, Inc.

  375 Hudson Street, New York, NY 10014.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious.

  Any resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal, and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  Nearly all the designs and trade names in this book are registered trademarks. All that are still in commercial use are protected by United States and international trademark law.

  ISBN 978-0-698-16171-9

  DAW TRADEMARK REGISTERED

  U.S. PAT. AND TM. OFF. AND FOREIGN COUNTRIES

  —MARCA REGISTRADA

  HECHO EN U.S.A.

  Version_1

  This is dedicated to the ones I love. All of you.

  You all know who you are.

  Contents

  Raves for the Alien Novels

  Also by Gini Koch

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31

  CHAPTER 32

  CHAPTER 33

  CHAPTER 34

  CHAPTER 35

  CHAPTER 36

  CHAPTER 37

  CHAPTER 38

  CHAPTER 39

  CHAPTER 40

  CHAPTER 41

  CHAPTER 42

  CHAPTER 43

  CHAPTER 44

  CHAPTER 45

  CHAPTER 46

  CHAPTER 47

  CHAPTER 48

  CHAPTER 49

  CHAPTER 50

  CHAPTER 51

  CHAPTER 52

  CHAPTER 53

  CHAPTER 54

  CHAPTER 55

  CHAPTER 56

  CHAPTER 57

  CHAPTER 58

  CHAPTER 59

  CHAPTER 60

  CHAPTER 61

  CHAPTER 62

  CHAPTER 63

  CHAPTER 64

  CHAPTER 65

  CHAPTER 66

  CHAPTER 67

  CHAPTER 68

  CHAPTER 69

  CHAPTER 70

  CHAPTER 71

  CHAPTER 72

  CHAPTER 73

  CHAPTER 74

  CHAPTER 75

  CHAPTER 76

  CHAPTER 77

  CHAPTER 78

  CHAPTER 79

  CHAPTER 80

  CHAPTER 81

  CHAPTER 82

  CHAPTER 83

  CHAPTER 84

  CHAPTER 85

  CHAPTER 86

  CHAPTER 87

  CHAPTER 88

  CHAPTER 89

  CHAPTER 90

  CHAPTER 91

  CHAPTER 92

  CHAPTER 93

  Special Excerpt from CAMP ALIEN

  About the Author

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  As always, love and thanks to my fantastic editor, Sheila Gilbert, my awesome agent, Cherry Weiner, my amazing crit partner, Lisa Dovichi, and the best beta reader in the West, Mary Fiore. Cannot do this without you guys. Okay, I can, but everything I do is better because of the four of you.

  Love and thanks to all the good folks at DAW Books and Penguin Random House, to all my fans around the globe, my Hook Me Up! Gang, members of Team Gini new and old, all Alien Collective Members in Very Good Standing, Members of the Stampeding Herd, Twitter followers, Facebook fans and friends, Pinterest followers, the fabulous bookstores that support me, and all the wonderful fans who come to my various book signings and conference panels—you’re all the best and I wouldn’t want to do this without each and every one of you along for the ride.

  My list of those I want to give special thanks to is normally pretty
darned long, but time is tight (I’m late again, what were the odds?) and so I’m going with the time honored “If I thanked you before I’m thanking you again, even more so” approach. So, if your name is not listed, I still love you and thank you for all you do, I just ran out of time to shout your name from the rooftops again.

  So, special love and extra shout-outs to: my awesome assistants, Joseph Gaxiola and Colette Chmiel for continuing to always keep me sane, on time, and efficient; Adrian & Lisa Payne, Hal & Dee Astell, and Duncan & Andrea Rittschof for continuing to always show up everywhere, with smiling faces and books (and Poofs) in hand, ensuring anywhere I’m at is always a warm, fun place to be; Scott Johnson for being the nicest bed & breakfast spot and the oasis of calm in my book tours; Tom & Libby Thomas, Pat & Barbara Michel, Koren Cota, Chrysta Stuckless, Missy Katano, Christina Callahan, Amy Thacker, Jan Robinson, Mariann Asanuma, Koleta Parsley, Mikel Dornhecker, Carien Ubink, Terry Smith, Joan Du, James Du, Michael Shelton, Janet Armentani, Colette Chmiel, Anne Taylor, Heidi Berthiaume, and Shawn Sumrall for bestowing beautiful, supportive, wonderful, and delicious things upon me what seems like all the time; Robert Palsma for continuing to like everything I do; all the fans who travel from far away to see the me, like Missy Katano, Michele Ogle, and Paul Sparks; and for a ton of physical labor and emotional support during cons, special love to Duncan and Andrea Rittschof, Terry Smith, Missy Katano, Brad Jensen, Joseph Gaxiola, Edward Pulley, and Kathi Schreiber.

  Always last in the list but never in my heart, thanks to my Husband in Chief, Steve, and our First (and only) Daughter, Veronica. You’re the best in the world and I love you both more than words can say.

  AH, TO SEE THE WORLD, travel to exotic locations, and meet interesting people. Sounds great, doesn’t it?

  Of course, most people get to plan their exotic trips and exciting vacations. I get yanked into mine, almost always against my will and often through literally being dragged there by powerful forces unknown to man. Well, okay, known to some men, and women, too. Hey, can’t blame a girl for adding a little drama.

  Anyway, vacations are a little different when you’re seeing new solar systems, traveling to exotic planets, and meeting lots of interesting aliens, many of whom are trying to kill you. Well, of course, as I look at my life over the past six years or so, that just kind of sounds like business as usual.

  Oh, it’s not all negative, though. I’ve gotten to save the world so many times I’ve lost count. Saved the galaxy at least once. Saved other solar systems, too. I’m just that kind of can-do girl.

  And though discovering aliens were living on Earth came as a shock six years ago, nowadays it’s almost commonplace. Almost.

  “My” aliens are all from Alpha Four in the Alpha Centauri solar system, and they’re all drop-dead gorgeous, super brainy, and come loaded with a lot of special talents including hyperspeed, faster regeneration, super strength, and then some. They really are all that and a Bag of Super Deluxe Just Like the Justice League and the X-Men Chips.

  Other aliens seem split between the Friends of Earth or Want To Destroy All Other Life Forms factions. So far, we and the Friends of Earth side have been doing okay, despite the fact that Earth itself has a plethora of cackling evil geniuses, multinational crime lords, and cuckoo megalomaniacs. We could export them, we have so many.

  Not that I am for one minute suggesting we should. We have enough problems out there, why give our enemies a chance to gang up on us? I mean, more than they already do.

  One of those evil geniuses in particular is the proverbial thorn in our sides: The Mastermind. Someone we all trusted. Someone we all wanted to eliminate with extreme prejudice. And someone who—until we can find all his strongholds, and all his plans, and all his cohorts, and make sure that he doesn’t have some awful doomsday plot or three that will activate if he dies suddenly—we cannot touch.

  I’d thought I’d have taken him down a year ago, but the cosmos had other plans and, instead, we got to avert a gigantic system-wide civil war over in Alpha Centauri while also stopping yet another huge invasion of Earth. We did get some cool parting gifts in the bargain, including two clones of former enemies who are now on our side, plus some alien pigdogs and foxcats. I’m in the minority in thinking these made everything else worthwhile, but some people just can’t see the roses for the trees. Or some such.

  We also made a lot of new alien friends. Many of whom want to visit Earth. Because, to them, Earth is that exotic tropical island way out in the middle of nowhere where a person can just relax and get away from it all.

  Yeah, I know, right? They’re thinking they’re going to waste away in “Margaritaville,” but we’re a whole lot more like “Welcome to the Jungle.” After all, there’s a reason it took Axl Rose twenty years to write “Chinese Democracy.” And a classified reason for why it had to suck. But I digress . . .

  CHAPTER 1

  “MOMMY, why is that car floating?”

  For most mothers, the answer would be “special effects” or “just watch the movie, honey.” For me, it required a different explanation.

  “Ah, Jamie, well . . . I think it’s because your little brother, um, wants it to. Charlie? Charlie, honey, put the car down, please. Now.”

  Thankfully, the car in question was one of the toy cars that my son was far too young to play with. That didn’t stop him from wanting them, however. And, because he wanted them, well . . . Charlie took them. By making them come to him.

  In the past years I’ve gone through so many changes that you’d think change would be commonplace, something I didn’t even think twice about.

  You’d be wrong.

  Becoming an alien superbeing exterminator? Handled like a boss. Becoming the Ambassador for an alien principality? So four years ago. Being the wife of a still-unwilling but going to do his best for his people and country politician? Got it covered. Finding that the Mastermind of the majority of our problems on Earth was a good friend? Still plotting the revenge. Swapping places with another me and visiting another universe? Check. Averting a whole solar system’s civil war? Double check.

  But none of these changes prepared me for my biggest battle.

  Being the mother of two.

  Two alien hybrid children with, oh, shall we say, unusual abilities. Don’t get me wrong—I love my kids. They’re great and, frankly, I have tons of help, a super supportive husband, totally there parents and in-laws, and a plethora of Secret Service agents following us everywhere. I mean, I have no right to complain at all.

  I just have to say that, sometimes it felt like averting an alien civil war was a lot easier than parenting. Times like right now, for instance.

  My daughter Jamie of course knew why the toy car was floating. She was just asking so that she could point out that her little brother was doing something I didn’t want him to in a way that might mean she wasn’t a tattletale.

  Of course, since Charlie’s birth six months ago, we’d actually needed Jamie’s tattling, because Charlie’s very unusual talent had manifested at birth.

  Being the family of the current Vice President of the United States meant that we were under microscopic scrutiny. Seeing as my husband, Jeff, was also an alien whose parents and family were originally from Alpha Four of the Alpha Centauri system meant we were under scrutiny at subatomic levels.

  The A-Cs, as they called themselves on Earth, were religious refugees when they came in the 1960s. And they’d integrated into the world, sort of, and stayed hidden, almost completely, as citizens of the United States first and the world second. Now, thanks to a just-barely-foiled alien invasion from four years ago, the entire world knew that aliens were real, and that the best looking ones in the galaxy had chosen to live with us.

  Perks aside, our A-Cs were here to protect and serve. Could not say the same for at least half of the alien races out there we’d encountered so far.

  The A-Cs had two hearts and,
as such, this gave them faster regeneration, hyperspeed, and super-strength. Some of them also had special talents, like Jeff, who was the strongest empath in, most likely, the galaxy. Besides the empaths, there were imageers, who could manipulate any images, static or live or whatever, dream readers, and troubadours, who were the actors and public speakers of the bunch.

  All female hybrid children, of which we still didn’t have all that many, were especially talented, with skills far surpassing the A-C norm. But before now, no hybrid boys had exhibited exceptional talent. They’d gotten normal talents, or none at all—the only exceptions were those children who were the progeny of Ronald Yates. For whatever reason, the newest crop of male hybrid kids were all talented in some ways, but nothing like Charlie. Because until now, telekinesis hadn’t been an A-C trait.

  I’d gotten pregnant on a world where telepathy and telekinesis were normal, though, which was the only explanation we had had for Charlie’s abilities. Psychic osmosis? I’m at a point where nothing surprises me, so yeah, maybe.

  You’d think that, with all the other things the A-Cs could do, Charlie being telekinetic would be no big to anyone in the A-C community.

  And you would be wrong.

  The car was still floating, and now it had company. “Charlie, put the cars down, please and thank you.” He grinned at me—he totally had his father’s smile—and yet the cars continued to fly away from the other kids in the American Centaurion Embassy School and Daycare Center and fly right to Charlie. “All the cars down, please, Charlie. Now.”

  Counted to ten. Listened to the music while I did so—my rule was that music needed to be happening as much as possible wherever I was, inside the Embassy and in whatever car I was in in particular.

  Other people’s rules were that the music in the daycare center couldn’t be hard rock or be loaded with suggestive lyrics because others were far more into censorship and keeping cool things from kids than I was.

  But I still managed to get good music of all eras piped in for the little ones, because the term “hard rock” was subjective and complex lyrics helped young minds to grow and learn. Jethro Tull had just finished “War Child” and Paul McCartney and Wings were now singing “Children, Children.” And cars were still flying. It was time to channel my mother.