“I thought you would be asleep or torturing someone by now,” BURT said in greeting, having adjusted his sarcasm level the day before.

  Elizabeth furrowed her brow. “You are mighty feisty tonight. Do you have a hot date or something?”

  BURT paused. “Oh yeah, me and my server will go on a whirlwind adventure across Meligorn.”

  She yawned. “Mm-hmm. Sounds lovely. But I need you to do something for me really fast before you ship off to Never-Never Land with some AI. And I don’t need the details. There are plenty of men out there with computer girlfriends, but I didn’t peg you as one.”

  “What would you peg me as, then?” he asked.

  Elizabeth raised both eyebrows and pursed her lips. “Honestly? Gay, actually.”

  BURT queried this but stopped hurriedly. “I see. No, though I think I fall more into the asexual category. Anyway, what can I do for you?”

  She leaned forward. “I need you to get Lars and Marcus tickets to the Grand Legion of Federation Fine Arts Charity Ball tonight. Stephanie has been asked to act as the liaison for the ambassador and I want two of our men there to protect her.”

  He immediately sifted through the system and hacked into their guest list database. Elizabeth wasn’t sure what he was doing but gave him time to respond since he was more than a little strange. A few moments later, he was done. “All right, they are on the list. I have pull almost everywhere everywhere for tickets.”

  Her mouth dropped slightly. “Oh. Right…okay. Thanks, then.”

  BURT definitely had pull, but it just so happened to be the kind that required him to hack into a highly classified system without being traced or caught. Luckily, he was a much more intelligent system than any of their other Federation protocols, so it was like taking candy from a baby.

  Elizabeth hung up and stood when she heard someone walk down the hall. She yanked the door open so quickly she actually scared Stephanie. Elizabeth looked at the girl for a moment, taken aback. She wore a strapless black velvet dress that was tight in the bodice to her waist, where it flared out and came to her calves. Underneath were rows and rows of black and silver crinoline and artfully arranged from the bottom up to about halfway were silver glittering butterflies in a garden of lilies. One of the lilies’ stems curved from the side along the bottom of her breasts and up to the right side of her bodice. It was an amazing gown.

  Stephanie’s hair and makeup were incredible too. Her hair was pulled back into a tight, smooth, perfect bun at the nape of her neck. What looked like thin silver vines wound around it. Her eyes were very dramatic and almost resembled the black and silver wings of the butterflies on the dress, and her lips were a deep rose.

  Elizabeth shook her head. “You look absolutely amazing. Really, so gorgeous. I knew you were a pretty girl but this is model… Oh my God. What are those hideously practical shoes?”

  The girl looked at the offending shoes—a pair of black slip-ons but with the rubber non-slip soles and slightly chunky bottoms. She shrugged. “I need practical in case anything happens.”

  The other woman sneered in genuine horror. “You couldn’t have strappy silver heels and go barefoot if anything happened?”

  Stephanie narrowed her eyes. “Have you seen the streets out there? It’s like dipping your body in tetanus. I like life right now.”

  Elizabeth sighed. “Good point, but good God.”

  Chapter Seventy-One

  The car pulled up at the event and the two guards exited first. Lars stood at the door and extended his hand to help her from the car. He whispered through his smile. “Not that you need my help in those frighteningly practical shoes from the back storage room of some rundown steakhouse waitress in Louisiana.”

  Stephanie snatched her hand away and turned to smile kindly at the people who passed them. She slammed her practically-shod foot down on Lars’s instep and he hissed and tried to keep his composure. “Oh, look, the ambassador just arrived.”

  She moved down the steps and waited as Brilgus climbed out, looked at her, and smiled widely. He mouthed, “Wow,” pointed at her dress, and stepped aside. The ambassador emerged and waved and smiled at the press as they snapped pictures as fast as they could. The droid reporters hovered overhead and tried to hear quiet conversations, but most of the Meligorn delegates would have a mild charm active to shield their discussions. These used little energy and spilled over those in close proximity, so in practical terms, the event itself had been charmed to ensure a degree of secrecy.

  As they started up the steps, the ambassador studied Stephanie approvingly and extended his arm to her. She walked beside him, her arm wound around his. “You look very beautiful. And I am glad you brought a couple of your men. If they are of sufficient caliber to protect you, I would trust them with my life.”

  Stephanie chuckled. “They don’t let me go out unsupervised. But it’s a good thing.”

  V’ritan winked. “They don’t let me go out unsupervised either. Welcome to the world of being treated like precious cargo. It will be annoying.”

  “Ten minutes before it ever happened? Yep, I’m there. But they are my family now and they put themselves on the line for me so I will smile the whole time.”

  The ambassador stopped at the door. “Good. Are you ready for this? I’m already over it.”

  Beta walked through the doors of the Fine Arts Ball. Carefully applied makeup covered the scars on his face, and contacts changed the color of his eyes to blue. His dark hair was slicked back, and his tux was perfectly pressed and worth more money than most people in the subs made in two years. He sauntered through the security check, handed them his silver cane, and allowed them to inspect it before he continued.

  At the bar, he ordered a scotch, turned casually, and scrutinized the sea of people who entered for the night’s festivities. A voice spoke quietly in his ear. “We are all in position.”

  Beta’s gaze shifted lazily to each of the places checked on the blueprints that they had worked with. He smiled inwardly as he confirmed that each of his men had taken their position, all strategically located around the perimeter of the building. They were dressed to the hilt and had been told to focus on the art to look non-threatening, and to keep their specially equipped vests completely out of view. Not only were they bulletproof, but they stored all their guns and were completely undetectable by the security metal checks.

  He carried two pistols in the vest, one laser and one regular ammo although he still hadn’t fully caught on to the laser fad. Satisfied that all had proceeded according to plan, he turned and pretended to yawn, then completed the movement of his hand to unobtrusively brush his finger on his earpiece. “This is where you will stay until I give the word. Remember, if it looks or feels too suspicious to stand in the same spot, call for a rotation and you will all move up one spot. We didn’t get this far to be nabbed by Federation blue-coats.”

  “Roger that,” each of them said into their comms.

  Beta turned to study the crowd once more. Slowly, a smirk stretched his lips and he chuckled. He felt that he still had it. Even after all those years of having a seat at the table and sending errand boys to do the dirty work, he was still exceptional at what he did. It had been a very long time for him, but when everything went as planned that night, he would be handsomely rewarded and possibly named as the next Full Leader when the position became available.

  A woman in a long, red, sequined, backless dress walked past him with a glimmer in her eye. She licked her top lip but Beta simply stared at her and blinked. Without any return affection, she walked awkwardly away. He pursed his lips and shook his head. “Damn human women. They have no idea.”

  “I wish when we came to these shindigs, we could wear tuxes instead of our navy dress formals,” Vice Admiral Blanton whispered as he ascended the steps.

  Admiral Suffix chuckled. “Trust me, I totally understand. They have updated all the Federation Navy uniforms to fit with the times, but when it came to these, they decided to go with a George and Martha Washington time period. They even took away the long dress pants and gave us these abominable things. I cannot believe I had to ask for a pair of…pantaloons—formal pantaloons. I am a grown-ass man.”

  Blanton snickered. “A grown-ass man who could also wear a white wig, a pair of round glasses, and fly a kite into a storm to discover electricity.”

  The other man covered his mouth and laughed but ended with a cough to cover it. “What was that revamp of an Old Broadway play they sent us to last year?”

  Blanton snapped his fingers. “Oh…uh…Newsies.”

  “That’s it. You’re Jack “Cowboy” Kelly and I’m Bryan Denton.”

  The men laughed all the way up the stairs and into the building. The lead security waved them away from the metal detectors. “Admiral Suffix, Vice Admiral Blanton, it’s so good that you are here. I wanted to escort you through this maze since you are the only guests in attendance permitted to keep your weapons on your person. All except, of course, the secret service.”

  The admiral nodded. “We appreciate it. Although I haven’t quite figured out why it is a mandatory part of the formal attire yet.”

  Vice Admiral Blanton shrugged. “You know us crazy navy folk. We go riding into full-on battles in our formals all the time.”

  All three chuckled and the agent opened the gate to allow them through. “Have a good evening, gentlemen.”

  They entered and paused to look around at all the people. Suffix sneered. “And we are expected to speak to all of them.” He sighed dramatically. “If I’d known as a new recruit that this was what they meant when they talked about making sacrifices for the nation…”

  His companion laughed. “We’re window-dressing, Admiral. Part of the politics of the position. It does, however, afford us a rare opportunity to hear things that might otherwise not be said. People tend to relax at these events. It’s not so much that we need to talk to them, but that we need to listen.” He shuddered. “It’s a pity, though, that we have to listen to all the bull-crap too.”

  They stood there silently for a moment, focused on the giddy faces, fancy clothes, and important figures. Finally, Blanton put his hand on the admiral’s shoulder and leaned in. “Shall we get a drink?”

  Suffix took a deep breath and tugged on his pantaloons. “I think that’s a hell of an idea. I knew I was friends with you for a reason.”

  Blanton chuckled. “You mean besides the fact that I’m the only one close enough to your rank to allow a friendship?”

  The admiral smacked his lips and his gray mustache rose and fell. “Hmm. Yes. That too. Although I could have gotten worse. Old Admiral Phillips with his broken hips and wrinkled old body could still be here.”

  They walked toward the bar. Blanton smirked. “He did have a nice monocle.”

  The music from inside the gala could be heard all across the Mall and down through the abandoned streets and old government buildings. The venue was lit up brighter than daylight with sparkling holographic golden stars that shimmered down the façade like falling magic snow. From both corners of the building, large spotlights were turned on and streamed the images of the Federation symbol, the NorAm’s Stars and Stripes, Meligorn’s Pantigordia flower, the symbol of peace in the country, and the slightly harsher helmet and warrior glove of Dreth.

  The news vans were set up all along the press line. Some already rolled footage of the event while others set up for the evening’s light show and celebrity appearances. The event had become what awards shows had been in the old days. The whole world watched to catch a glimpse of the most glamorous, most chivalrous, and most famous people in the Federation. The money raised was merely a plus, an endowment set up for children of the fallen Federation sailors and soldiers. Of course, it usually was panhandled in bribes barely days later but the idea of it let the richies feel good about donating to the little orphaned urchins on the streets.

  It was, in reality, merely another manifestation of the class structure and made the poor seem even poorer and the middle class work harder toward a higher level. Class structure in the United States forever grew farther apart. But that was not even close to the biggest worries that the Federation would soon face and were willfully ignorant of.

  Chapter Seventy-Two

  Beta moved casually across the room and observed the ambassador keenly from afar. He had to admit, the man was very powerful, very well-liked, and very intelligent. He knew, even though the humans refused to admit it, that Meligorns, even the lowliest, had IQs past genius level on Earth. It wasn’t due to anything other than a species difference. But, of course, the pride of the human species kept them from celebrating it. Denial was something all humans seemed to be good at. They denied crimes, infidelities, rule-breaking, and even facts. They would get so caught up in the lies that even when presented with the cold, hard facts, they would deny that they were real.

  This was a very good reason why the Federation still controlled everyone, despite the frequent uprisings and battles through their history. The government always maintained control. Meligorn was truly free, understanding of faults, and knowledgeable of coercion but never practiced it. They were truly the better species, but they were also hated by the Dreth and many of the richie humans as well.

  One of Beta’s men spoke over the comms. “It looks like the ambassador brought his own liaison.”

  Another man chuckled. “Yes. He. Did. And I have to say she is hot as hell—except for those shoes… I don’t understand.”

  Beta’s gaze dipped to the shoes rather than the wearer. “They seem practical.” He had no interest in the woman. Liaisons were expendable and whoever this was would pose no problems. Her presence there was probably more a PR exercise than anything else. He was more concerned with identifying the security detail that would inevitably have infiltrated the crowd.

  The first man laughed. “It sucks to be her tonight. She should have called in sick. Those little fateful decisions you make and never think they will be your last. So sad. A waste of a beautiful face.”

  One of others coughed in the comm. “Ahem. Ass…oh, sorry, I have this cough.”

  Beta clenched his jaw and looked down to hide his irritation as he growled into the comms. “Could we stop acting like this is Fashion Runway or The Female Auctions. We are here to do a job. Thereafter, what you talk about is none of my business.”

  Everyone fell silent and kept their eyes on the prize—the end of the ambassador and the line of bullshit they so avidly hated.

  V’ritan walked between Brilgus and Stephanie, his hands locked together inside his long robe sleeves and a pleasant smile on his face. The bodyguard stood tall, his chest puffed out, and his eyes continually scanned the immediate crowd around them. On either side, four secret service agents, stoic and alert, studied the people and the surroundings in search of any sign of trouble. Last but not least, Marcus and Lars fell in behind as a rearguard and continually turned to sweep the room behind them.

  As for Stephanie, she was beyond amazing at the job. She had a bright and kind smile and she found that when she was forced into a position where she needed to be likable, she was actually able to be open and warm with people. They reacted well to her and she handled a number of small meetings very efficiently and without mistakes. But every party of a political nature always came with an asshole.

  She stood beside V’ritan with a welcoming smile and sparkling eyes and waited for the next guest. A small prickle of warning made her look up at a middle-aged man with a horseshoe bald spot and a very round middle. He seemed obviously intoxicated and stumbled toward them with his finger pointed.

  Stephanie immediately became defensive and stepped in front of him so he couldn’t reach the ambassador. He stared dismissively at her. “Who are you? Some NorAm ho to keep him happy while he’s here?”

  Brilgus tightened his fist and the ambassador glanced at him and shook his head. Stephanie summoned a huge fake smile and pushed her fingers into the man’s chest. “Why have you come to speak to the ambassador today?”

  He laughed. “To tell him I know he’s full of shit. I know his people are full of shit. They are trying to take us over and the Federation, run by a bunch of pansies, can’t stop sucking on the Meligorn teat long enough to see it. I want him to know I see it. And that I don’t understand because we’ve been so nice to them.”

  She glanced at the secret service agents and shook her head before she drew the man’s jacket closed and patted him hard on the chest. “I’m going to say something to you right now and I want you to know it is in your very best interest. And when you are sober, you will think about this and thank me for it.”

  He frowned and his head wobbled slightly. “What?”

  Stephanie sucked in a deep breath through her mouth and continued. “You are making an ass of yourself. And that means you are making an ass out of everyone on Earth. Believe it or not, we are all representatives of this planet. Now, I want you to go back to the restroom, wash the idiot out of your mouth, and try to come back with at least a modicum of respect and class. If you do that, I might be able to help you. I know you have class somewhere, because only those who hold the dollar hold the tickets to the golden palace. So go and find some.”

  The two security guards on either side both immediately lowered their heads and pressed their lips together. They tried desperately not to laugh as the guy looked at her in confusion before he stumbled off. She glanced at them and shook her head. They were young secret service, but not as dense as she had expected. In fact, they seemed to really take their jobs seriously, which was good since they were protecting the most important Meligorn political figure on Earth.

  “Here’s the glass of seltzer you wanted,” the reporter’s assistant said, slightly out of breath from climbing all the way up into the high levels.