"The Emissary"

[AnnieBloom]

In the air above the Australian Outback:

Camille was disappointed that her husband wasn't going to show her the larger ship his people had come to Earth on, but she wasn't surprised either. James had had to hide on her planet all these years, fearful of what would become of him if Humans were to discover an alien amidst them. Particularly one who was investigating a rare and valuable mineral that he wanted for his people.

They headed home again but took a slightly out of their way course. She leaned in, quietly asking, "Where are we going?" Moments later, they were passing over the Pine Gap Listening Post shared by Australian and American intelligence gathering agencies. Camille knew what the facility was, of course, as did anyone living in Australia who was paying attention to the world around them.

What she didn't know, though, was James's interest in Pine Gap. All during their relationship, he'd never hinted at having an interest in anything other than Geovik and its future extraction by the Matluk. Why, after his people had finally arrived, was he suddenly interested in one of the world's premier intelligence gathering sites?

She became even more concerned when James first asked if they were in stealth mode, which obviously meant he didn't want to be detected, and then asked the co-pilot to photograph and videorecord the highly secretive government location. Camille said nothing, though, her face and body language likely gave away her concern.

"You said something about being happy," her husband reminded her after they'd landed, and the shuttle had departed. He was, of course, hinting at sex.

"What was that about?" she finally asked, her tone concerned but not confrontational. "I know what they do there, at Pine Gap. They listen in on communications all around the world, for the CIA, the NSA, for whatever the Australian versions of those are. I thought you were looking for some weird rock. I didn't know you were a spy, too? Are you a spy?"

 

[HumanBean]

At their cabin in the Australian Outback:

James was already hard down yonder. He'd treated his wife to the most spectacular ride she'd ever experience. And that included riding his cock, too. He was good. But even sex with him couldn't compete with an alien shuttle ride over Australia in low Earth orbit.

Then she asked, "What was that about?" She was, of course, asking about his spying on the listening station at Pine Gap.

James didn't know what to say. He couldn't tell her the truth. No, he wasn't a spy. Not really. But what they'd just done over Pine Gap was indeed espionage. Ironically, it had nothing to do with taking pictures or shooting video. That wasn't actually what they'd done. That had been code between James and the Matluk.

What they'd actually been doing was downloading a series of worms into the systems and servers of the listening post. Pine Gap was famous for being impossible to hack. At least, it had been. Until today. The Matluk technology was literally light years ahead of Human tech. In seconds, the intrusion worms they'd downloaded had given the Mother Ship total access to everything in Pine Gap. Anything on a server was being uploaded now. Anything that would be heard in the days to some would be heard on the Mother Ship. And if necessary, the Techs on the Mother Ship could shut down Pine Gap or send them messages that appeared to be coming from Human sources in terrestrial locations.

It was the greatest hack known to man, except that it wasn't actually known. To man.

"I"m not a spy, honey," James reassured her. "My people simply want to know more about Human technology capabilities. The people who run things down here might do something crazy, like attack the Matluck ship. If they do, if they plan to do it, we want to hear about it first. By listening to what Pine Gap is listening to, we can prevent such an attack."

He moved to her, reaching up to unbutton her blouse. "Now, didn't you say something about being happy?"

If she didn't stop him, James would undress his wife and take her to the bathtub. He was desperate to make love to her. And she'd already expressed her interest in a little afternoon delight.

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

(Continued from Post #49)

Naval Observatory
Vice President's Residence
Washington DC:

After listening to The Vice President use Italian, and seriously hoping her ever used that phrase with a diplomat, Alaina smiled, she wouldn't correct him, but she'd definitely translate for him if he was in Italy.

Clark looked to Alaina again, saying, "I'm assuming you've accepted the position, yes?"

“Yes, Mr. Vice President, I’ll accept the position,” Alaina replied.

After being shown her shared office, she was handed a huge packet of information. Thankfully it already had tabs marking where she needed to sign. Then she called her mom and dad and told them she’d gotten the position and promised to call with more information later.

After dropping paperwork off with the HR lady she was told she’d have a her credentials, a phone, and Computer in the morning. Ones that she could carry into government buildings and would be for work only. They would be monitored for unauthorized use, and such use would result in her immediate removal.

Then she got a drug test which was funny, cause her mother would fucking kill her if she ever did pot. Besides it smelled, so did cigarettes. But her father would smoke a pipe or nice cigars. He didn’t go for cheap shit.

Using her personal phone, she called the number on the limo drivers' car and told him she needed a pickup, she needed to do some shopping and didn’t have any business attire, or formal wear – other than her prom dress. And she doubted that was acceptable for a White House event.

When the limo guy showed up, he bounced out and opened her door, looking around. “No luggage this time,” she told him as she slid into the back seat. “Clothing store, business attire,” she told him. She had credit cards and knew how to use them responsibly, plus her father had said he’d get her limit increased for the month so she could get things situated.

 

[AnnieBloom]

The White House
Washington DC:

As was becoming the norm, Angela's day began in the Situation Room. She'd been here more times since the arrival of the Matluk than she had been during the whole of her first 26 months as POTUS. There was a lot to cover, so they went through it quickly.

Rioting, looting, and general mayhem around the country was nearly under control. The National Guard had been called up every State in the Union, limiting the worst of the public uproar to just a couple of dozen cities.

The Stock Market had been reopened, and as expected it had taken a nosedive. By Executive Order, Angela had ordered the temporary suspension of automated buying and selling to prevent the instantaneous actions of computerized selling. Still, the Dow had still dropped more than 7,000 points in the first hour. It would regain half of its losses before the end of trading that day, but it was still 14% below where it was when the Matluk ship first arrived.

A half dozen major banks and three times that many smaller ones had closed their doors and/or limited withdrawals to pennies on the dollar to prevent total collapse. Some of them were still closed, and some of those would never reopen and would be purchased by larger banks or turned over to the Federal Reserve for liquidation.

Angela had put all of her wealth in a blind trust upon becoming POTUS, but she knew that she'd lost money, too. She'd lost over $100,000 in those first hours and would only earn two-thirds of it back over the days to come.

The Matluk ship had finally achieved a stationary orbit, almost directly over Salisbury, Maryland. The city of just over 35,000, situated almost dead center in the Delmarva Peninsula, was quickly being overwhelmed by tourists as it was the best place to view the alien spacecraft during the daylight hours.

The various intelligence services and Space Force Command had been watching the mother ship with every camera available. They'd noticed something that they couldn't explain. On more than 100 occasions, shuttles had been seen disengaging and flying away from the mother ship in a variety of directions, only to be lost from view seconds or minutes later. Some of the vessels had been on camera at the time, leading to questions about whether or not the Matluk had stealth technology unlike anything the Humans had.

There were intelligence reports of secret visits between the Matluk and other world leaders, possiby where these shuttles were going. No world leader would confirm or deny such visits, though. Emelia had said that she would deal directly only with the General Secretary of the United Nations, but it seemed pretty obvious to Angela and her Aides that the Matluk leader was sneaking around behind everyone's backs.

They continued with the briefly as normal when suddenly a uniformed officer hurried up to his superior, speaking quietly to him. The second officer went to a third, who then went to General Thompson, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs.

"Jesus Christ! You're like a bunch of little girls telling secrets on the playground," Angela snapped. "Why don't you just tell us who kissed bobby under the maple tree and whether he gave her tongue or not."

The Chairman reported, "Maxine has made landfall, just south of Houston, Madam President"

"Okay, and how is that news a secret?" she asked. "We knew--"

"The hurricane is losing strength," the Chairman interrupted. Hesitantly, he added, "And we think the Matluk have something to do with it." He gestured to a young officer, a Naval meteorologist, who came forward. "Explain it to the President, Lieutenant."

The officer began first explaining the rarity of Maxine as an absolute freak of nature. It was a Category 4 storm, not as powerful as Beryl, which had been a Cat 5 when it slammed into Houston in 2024. But they were only in the first week of May, and hurricane season didn't officially begin until June 1. The change, of course, was a result of intensifying global warming, but still to have the first Gulf hurricane in May was unbelievable.

"They're killing Maxine," the Lieutenant said, initially without explanation of her comment. When pressed by Angela to do so, the officer said, "The Matluk. They're killing Maxine."

An image of the hurricane, provided by a weather satellite 530 miles above the Gulf, showed a view of the Houston area, complete with state and internation borders, major city locations, and indicators of the hurricane's eye and outer reach. In addition, there were more than two dozen flashing dots arranged in three circles, one inside the other. The inner circle was just inside the eye of the storm, the second over the area of fastest winds, and the third outside the periphery.

"Those are Matluk shuttles, Madam President, the Lieutenant said.

"What are they doing there?" Angela asked.

The young officer returned to her faced paced techno babble, but when Angela gave her a hard stare, she translated her own explanation. "Somehow, we don't know how yet, they're altering the temperature of the sea water and air above it. They're eliminating the temperature variants that are the driving force of the hurricane. They're killing Maxine."

"Is this even possible?" Angela asked

"It shouldn't be," the Lieutenant continued. "But it is. It is happening. We are already seeing signs of the storm weakening."

Suddenly, all other national and international concerns were put aside as the hurricane and what the Matluk were doing to it became the only event of concern. Right before their eyes, or at least on a dozen screens in the Situation Room now dedicated to it, Angela and her Security Council watched as Maxine began to weaken. The hurricane dropped from a Cat 4 to a Cat 2 in under three hours. The young Lieutenant was keeping in close contact with a dozen meteorologists, both military and civilian, and they were estimating that if conditions continued to change as they were, Maxine would be nothing but a big mass of scary looking but harmless clouds by sundown.

The Press had gotten the story, of course, the result of a leak from Angela's very own Situation Room. The stories on the television news and internet included photos and video of Matluk shuttles in the Houston area. In contrast to those leaving the mother ship and disappearing from view, these shuttles were very much making themselves known to Human aircraft, ships, and people on the ground.

Emelia's only response to what the Matluk had done was to ask the UN Secretary to express her apologies for intruding on American airspace. No explanation was made of what the Matluk had done, why they'd done it, or in particular, what they wanted in return for having done it.

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

Isolation:
Agent Starr lay on the bed in isolation, the bible next her had been opened, closed, opened and read, and closed again a dozen times. Mostly she kept reading Revelations, but she read other parts as well. She’d never been one to read a book – especially the Bible – from cover to cover. Unless it was a murder mystery. And even then, the writers kept leaving shit out that would allow the reader to make an informed decision on their own. Fucking writers.

She’d tried sleeping but never got more than five during normal operations. Being stuck in a fucking glass walled room was worse. And if one more asshole tried stabbing her with a needle, she was shoving it up their ass.

As if on cue the door opened and a doctor in a blue bio suit hooked up to an oxygen line and walked over to her with a tray.

“Look, I know you’re just doing your job. But if that blue towel comes off that tray and you have anything resembling a needle or a knife, it’s going into your body in the most painful way possible. You don’t need any more blood or tissue samples. You’re just playing fucking games. So either let me out or go away. Just make a wise decision about your next move.”

When the blue towel/paper was removed there were at least four test tubes for blood and six petri dishes for tissue samples. And a dozen cotton swab sticks.

“I did warn you,” M’Chel said as she sat up and grabbed a hypo in one motion. A blink of a second later it was stick in the left thigh of the Doctor. And in less time to say what happened she’s impaled the doctor with the rest of the needles in knees, elbows, wrists, and neck. Making it impossible for them to move without causing permanent damage.

“Now, let me explain something.” She said walking around her victim. “I’m a very calm person, but according to my military record I know how to inflict pain.” Pulling a needle from a wrist she watched the Doctor as she continued. “So, either you tell me you found something wrong in one of the nine dozen fucking samples you’ve taken, and I sit down and let you continue. Or you tell me you found nothing, and I get released. Which will it be?”

Moving slowly The Doctor reached for one of the other needles to remove it, until M’Chel shoved the one in her hand through the side fabric of his suit and reached perilously close to his eye. “That wasn’t an option, asshole."

"Did you find anything?” She asked, calmly, though her jaw was starting to tighten from the run around.

“No. You’re in perfect health.”

“And?” she asked impatiently.

“You had the measles as a child.” he replied.

“Yeah, so what?”

“You don’t anymore.”

“Oh,” she said sitting on the bed.

“Nor do you have any scars of military record injuries. We also have your childhood records. The cracked femur, playground injury age nine is healed. Covid-19 bacterium. Influenza Virus. Measels. Cracked rib from a bar fight. Gunshot, Stabbings, razor wire. STD’s, all of them are healed. Not just surface scars either. Muscle and tissue damage are repaired like it never happened. Not even the best surgeon on the planet can do that.”

“Your... DNA is like a newborn. As we age it begins to break down, and with training a person can determine age based on DNA. You DNA is... well, days old. If you are Agent Starr, you’ve been given a miracle. If you’re not. You could be a perfect clone.”

“Well… Shit.” M’Chel sighed as she sat back on the bed. “I don’t have any memory disruption. And the short nap I took on the ship I had dreams.”

“But you did sleep. And you can’t say for absolute certainty that it wasn’t then that you were replaced.”

“True but I can’t say for absolute certainty that I’m not being cloned right now.” She told him. “Doc in the conspiracy rabbit hole the shit gets deep. So, let's not go there and let me handle the consequences. Either let me out or put a bullet in my head. I can go back to my job, or I leave DC and retire to work the private sector. Make a decision.”

“That’s above my paygrade, But I’ll pass the message up the chain.”

“No more tests. No more food. No more BS. Period. When that door opens again, I’m leaving. Or dying.” Pulling the hypodermic needles from his body she set them on the tray and pushed him from the room.

 

[AnnieBloom]

The White House
Washington DC
6pm, local time:

Angela was in the Oval Office speaking with business leaders when they were interrupted with very unexpected news: Emelia was on her way. The Matluk leader had sent word that her shuttle was departing in acceptance of the invitation that POTUS had given her that day at the UN. Angela went into a panic, saying, "Well, she could have at least given us warning."

Questions were raised about the safety of it all. The quarantine doctors had reported some strange anomalies regarding the Humans who had gone up to the Matluk's mother ship, Secret Service Agent M'Chel Starr and Larry and Rosemary Keen, the parents of astronaut Sally Keen, now was, of course, now occupied by the alien leader. Those anomalies hadn't been explained to her yet, but what Angela had been told was that the 72-hour quarantine might need to be extended.

Better yet, the lead doctor had said, he wanted to take the trio to the nearest Army biological research facility with a Level 4 section. "We don't think that this is contagious. We don't think there's a danger to the public. We just want to know what it is."

"She's coming to get her pat on the back for Houston," POTUS's Chief of Staff said about Emelia's impromptu visit as she escorted POTUS to the Situation Room.

"She deserves it, don't you think?" Angela responded. "News reports and the Meteorological Service are all saying Maxine is as good as gone. Not a single death. Well, except for that guy who was stealing plywood from a construction site and got squished by a stack of cinder blocks when it tipped over. Limited flooding, no surf surge. All in all, I would say that what Emelia has done is next to magic, and she deserves more than just a pat on the back."

The meeting in the Situation Room was short lived. There were only a handful of key personnel there, but those present agreed that while the spontaneity was unappreciated, there didn't seem to be any threat from the Matluk visit. One of the officers with a phone to his head announced, "Madam President, they're on approach."

By the time Angela got to the South Lawn, the shuttle was landing -- not on the South Lawn where they'd been cleared to set down but out in the middle of the closed section of Pennsylvania Avenue where tourists and the Press were set up for their 24/7 monitoring of the White House. DC police hurriedly cleared people out to make room for the shuttle, which hovered overhead until its pilot knew it was safe. The police hurriedly moved the portable barriers that were kept nearby to create a perimeter around the alien craft, even as reinforcements were arriving from every direction to ensure that people stayed back.

At the north portico of the building that had served as her home for the past 3 years plus, Angela stared out at the goings-on wondering what her response was to be. Did she wait where she was and let the Matluk leader come to her? Or did she walk out to meet Emelia, covering the distance all the way to one of the two gates at either end of the semi-circular driveway that passed before the north portico entrance.

Angela decided on the latter, wanting to play the part of gracious hostess. Secret Service quickly shuffled their people around to provide proper protection, and POTUS headed down the drive, to and through the gate, and up the closed road until she was nearing the shuttle. She realized only after she was within a hundred feet of the craft, which had landed on an east-west axis, that the door and ramp were on the north, crowd side of the ship.

Secret Service advised that she wait near the north lawn fence for Emelia to come around to her, but Angela told them, "No, we came this far. We'll go all the way. If someone in the crowd has it in their mind to pop me, well, you better stop it."

They curled around the craft, and just to remind the people that she was who she was, Angela moved to the barrier and shook some hands, kissed a baby, and took a selfie with a set of tween twins wearing I aliens ball caps with tee shirts featuring a now image of Angela from her inauguration. After another minute or so, the door of the shuttle opened, the ramp reached out and lowered to the pavement, and Emelia stepped out into view, with a new style that was going to make every publication across the planet and likely be used for inspiration by young men for days, weeks, even years to come:



Even Angela took a long moment to ogle the Matluk leader, murmuring to her Chief of Staff, "I'd do her if I was into that sort of thing."

As soon as she'd said it, Angela looked around, hoping she hadn't been caught on a hot microphone. She stepped forward until she was just a step from the bottom of the ramp, reached out a hand which was taken, looked Emelia up and down again, and told her, "You look marvelous, Emissary. Who's your fashion advisor, because I'm thinking I may need a makeover of my own now."

The two of them laughed together as Angela invited Emelia to head for the White House. The Matluk asked, "Can I meet some of your people?"

"Well, it's, I'm not sure," Angela began, unable to find the words. She looked to the head of her Protection Detail for her opinion, but Emelia was already moving toward the crowd, with two of her own uniformed, helmeted, and seemingly unarmed guards following in flanking positions. Angela quickly gestured to the Detail's Chief, saying, "Go with her. Don't let anything happen to her, whatever it takes."

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

Moving forwards the detail chief was already thinking about his resignation paperwork as he called a squad forwards. Let the fucking FBI, and DC police, deal with the rest of the crowd.

Talking into the mic he directed several staff to cover the president in his stead as he got to the Alien Ambassador. “Ma’am, you need to come this way, away from the crowds.” He told her as several people were already pushing the barriers trying to touch the Alien. “It’s not safe to be here.”

As more and more people crowded the barriers DC police moved in with Riot shields and tear gas. They had orders from their boss on what to do, and the fucking Feds could deal with the backlash.

“Madam Ambassador, now.” he repeated. “Before people get hurt.” he was already thinking this was staged since only an idiot would land with the door pointing away from the host residence. This shit was intentional. But why?

 

[AnnieBloom]

Pennsylvania Avenue, in front of the White House:

Emelia:
“Ma’am, you need to come this way," one of the Humans warned Emelia, clarifying, "away from the crowds.”

Emelia respected the man's desire to protect her and took a couple of steps back. But rather than depart, she lifted her hands out to her sides, slightly higher than her head, as if a prophet about to speak to his, or her, people. Suddenly, her body was enveloped by a soft aura of light. The crowd that had been pushing forward and was about to overwhelm the increasing police presence suddenly stopped, with their loud raucous din becoming a hushed combinations of oohs and awws.

With a calm voice that had a higher-than-normal volume, almost as if she was talking through a megaphone yet sounding perfectly normal, Emelia said, "You will have peace." The crowd erupted in applause and calls of positivity, like a gaggle of Catholics watching the Pope pass by in the Popemobile. The aura began to fade, Emelia lowered her hands, and only then did she turn to rejoin the President near the shuttle.

***********************

Angela:

She was worrying for Emelia when suddenly she pulled her messiah routine. Emelia said to her when she returned, "Perhaps we should speak inside, Madam President."

"Ya think?" Angela heard herself saying before she even realized what was coming out of her mouth.

***********************

Angela and Emelia in the Oval Office:

Alone together in the Oval, President Paulson asked the Emissary without a great deal of diplomacy, "What the hell was that?"

The Matluk calmly asked, "Did I do something wrong, Madam President?"

"I don't know. Did you? What was that? What did you do out there?"

"That would be hard to explain," Emelia answered. "It is a gift I can provide, to calm people when they are suffering."

"Suffering?" Angela asked. "Suffering from what? Joy and happiness. I saw joy and happiness in that crowd. Joy and happiness for an extraterrestrial being who quite possibly saved dozens, even hundreds of lives in Houston and prevented a billion or more in property damage. Lost wages, homelessness, lasting health effects. Many of those people in that crowd out there are now describing what you did as magic. Or divine intervention. Are you a god, Emissary?"

"I assure you, Madam President, I am not a god," Emelia laughed. "What we did for the city and people of Houston was nothing more than science."

"And what about your lightning bug show out there on Pennsylvania Avenue? Was that just science?"

Emelia didn't answer that question but did answer one she was certain Angela wanted to ask. "I assure you, Madam President, that I did no harm to your people. However, if you wish, I will not repeat the display again in the future."

"Perhaps you could refrain for now, Emissary," Angela responded. "Until my people can determine beyond a doubt that you did no harm. Can you explain Houston to me?"

"I would be more than happy to have my scientists explain it to your scientists, Madam President," Emelia said. "I cannot explain it to you, however. I believe you have a saying for that: not my area of expertise."

"Houston, that was a wonderful thing that you did," Angela complimented. "We are thankful that you did it, obviously, but I have to ask: what are you wanting in return for such a benevolent act? I mean, there are very few people who do something like that without wanting something in return."

Emelia smiled again. "Yes, Madam President. There is something I want in return."

***********************

Angela and Emelia at the quarantine tent:

The tents were already in the process of being taken down and the equipment loaded into a dozen vans. The Keens had entered the White House via another entrance, missing POTUS and the Emissary. Agent Starr was engaged in conversation with her supervisor. The good news was obvious: the quarantine was over. The bad news Angela would learn soon enough: M'Chel was facing assault charges for assaulting one of the doctors.

Angela asked to speak with M'Chel, asking how she was feeling. She avoided the topic of the quarantine itself, having heard that M'Chel's time there had been trying. After a bit, she left M'Chel with Emelia, saying, "The two of you should talk."

Emelia repeated POTUS's inquiries about M'Chel's health. Then, she got right to the point: "I want you to join my Personal Security Team, Agent. I have already cleared it with President Paulson, but she stresses that this is entirely your choice. You will spend most of your time aboard what you call the mother ship. When I travel down to the planet, you will often but not always travel with me. I need someone who understands this planet and its people. I fully understand that you have issues with the Matluk and with me. Skepticism, I believe the word to be. Perhaps even suspicion. That is acceptable to me, as I hope to alleviate you of those concerns over the days to come."

She smiled, asking, "So, Agent Starr, what would you think about living on an alien spacecraft?"

 

[AnnieBloom]

(Continuing from post 52.)


At their cabin in the Australian Outback:

"I'm not a spy, honey," James reassured Camille. He explained that the Matluck simply needed to know what the Humans were saying about his people, for defensive reasons.

Her husband had never lied to her before. Sure, for the first half of their marriage, he'd withheld his status an illegal alien, alien meaning not of this world, not of this country. But he'd confessed to that. And she'd loved him so very much that she'd accepted it. She believed him now, too, for two reasons: first was his honesty in the past, and second was her own knowledge of what Humans were like.

"Now, didn't you say something about being happy?" he reminded her.

***************************

An hour later, they were lying together on a blanket under the bright, clear, blue sky, naked and spent from very energetic sex. Looking upwards, Camille imagined seeing the Matluk ship passing overhead. By total chance, she hadn't seen the mothership during the daytime. She'd seen it pass overnight before it settled into its stationary orbit over the United States. Unless she returned to the country of her birth, Camille would never see the ship again except on television or the internet, neither of which they had at the cabin.

"Tell me about your home planet," she requested. "What's it like there? I mean, is it like Earth? Or is it like Mars or Jupiter or little old Pluto? Do you have oceans and mountains and kangaroos and coral?" She paused, then asked, "And why did you leave it? Why fly halfway across the galaxy to this shithole of a planet? Is it the Geovik?"

She had so many questions she wanted to ask, but those would do good for a start.

 

[HumanBean]

At their cabin in the Australian Outback:

Making love to Camille was as spectacular for James as flying over the continent of Australia had been for her. Two years they'd been together. Two years of making love. It was just as amazing for him today as it had been that first time. Maybe even more.

As they lay there, she asked, "Tell me about your home planet. What's it like there? I mean, is it like Earth? Or is it like Mars or Jupiter or little old Pluto? Do you have oceans and mountains and kangaroos and coral? And why did you leave it? Why fly halfway across the galaxy to this shithole of a planet? Is it the Geovik?"

So many questions. So few answers that he could give her. It wasn't as if secrecy was preventing him from answering her. The truth was that James had never been home, if you could even call that for him. Only some of the very much older Matluk had ever seen the planet. The vast majority of the members of his race had been out and about in space all their lives.

"Where to start," he said softly. "Well, it's like Earth. Sort of. It has continents and oceans. A nitrogen-oxygen atmosphere. It's bigger, though. Twice the diameter. Its days are as long as your weeks. Its year is nine times yours. We don't have, what did you ask, kangaroos and coral? Kangaroos, no. Coral, yes. We have whales. Enormous whales. They were nearly hunted to extinction but were saved."

He thought a moment about her next series of questions. "I didn't leave Matluk because I've never been there. I was born in space, like many of the Matluk aboard the mother ship. As far as this shithole of a planet goes, I like Earth. Sure, it's got its problems. But the Emissary will help Humans fix those."

And if they don't, we'll just get rid of the humans, he thought to himself. All of the humans other than you, of course his thought continued. James would abandon his people and their mission to Earth before he'd give up Camille.

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

After the Meeting with POTUS M’Chel did her best to assume a poker face, not happy with the ‘strongly worded request’ the POTUS had placed before her. Yeah she’d wounded the Medical Officers pride and hurt his feeling, but she hadn’t done any permanent damage and his bruises would heal. Hell that ‘Doctor’ would heal fast than she would.

And now she was talking to the Alien Ambassador.

Emelia:

"I want you to join my Personal Security Team, Agent. I have already cleared it with President Paulson, but she stresses that this is entirely your choice. You will spend most of your time aboard what you call the mother ship. When I travel down to the planet, you will often but not always travel with me. I need someone who understands this planet and its people. I fully understand that you have issues with the Matluk and with me. Skepticism, I believe the word to be. Perhaps even suspicion. That is acceptable to me, as I hope to alleviate you of those concerns over the days to come."

She smiled, asking, "So, Agent Starr, what would you think about living on an alien spacecraft?"

“I can’t protect you or perform an efficient job of saving you’re life if I’m on your basestar / Baseship / mothership or whatever you call it. You come to Earth I come with you.”

Holding up her hand she stopped Emelia from interrupting. “Not negotiable. Sneaking to Earth Violates this agreement.”

“You wanna meet with Putin Great, I hope you, the President and Putin can have a face to face and make peace on this plane. Just don’t do it by sneaking around.”

“If you can accept those conditions I’d be happy to..live aboard your ship. Do you have any concerns of fifth columnists? Um.. are you worried any of your people object to your coming to Earth, and may take hostile action against you?”

 

[HumanBean]

(Continued from post 53)

Naval Observatory
Vice President's Residence
Washington DC:

Kyle was overjoyed to hear Alaina Carmichael's voice when he answered an incoming call to his cell. He was hoping she was taking him up on his offer of drinks, dinner, dancing, and/or a tour of the city. What she needed, though, was just as good for now. She needed a ride that was job related. That meant that Kyle got to spend the day with her and bill the VP's office for it. No one in the GAO ever called to verify his billings, thankfully.

He didn't bring the stretch as he had been driving yesterday. They were awkward for jobs like this. Plus, they attracted too much attention. He also wore a more casual two-piece suit, not the three-piece he'd worn yesterday. It still looked professional. But like this, the two of them could sit for coffee or get lunch without busybodies ogling them. They could also slip into a motel room to fuck without anyone thinking too much about it. Wishful thinking? Sure. But it had happened before.

Alaina was dressed in nice but casual clothes when he pulled up. He gave her a quick once over. Any man would, so it didn't appear to be the hungry ogling of a man about to rape her. "You look nice today, Miss Carmichael."

“No luggage this time,” she told him, adding, “Clothing store, business attire.”

"You'll need more luggage when you leave, then," he joked, closing the door. He got behind the wheel and looked back over the seat at her. He wanted to tell her she could sit up front if she wanted. He wanted a better viewing of her through the day. But he kept that option in his pocket. "I know all the good shops. What's the price range?"

She told him, and off they went. Kyle wove the car through the late afternoon traffic. He knew the streets better than most. He got them to where Alaina needed to be easier and quicker than most drivers could. As they went, he made inquiries of Alaina about her new job, her life back in Washington State, her family, her friends. He'd learned how to get answers without sounding too invasive. He used that tact now, ensuring he didn't seem pushy. He wanted to get a blow job from Alaina, not restraining order.

At each stop, he attempted to find a parking space right out front. He didn't want to have to park around the corner or in a lot and wait for her call. He hoped Alaina would ask him to come in to help. Man's opinion and all. If she offered, he would most definitely take her up on it. Maybe she'd need help with a zipper in the dressing room. Again, wishful thinking.

The trunk was slowly but surely filling up as the day passed. It was getting late. Many of the higher end shops began closing at 5pm. Kyle began contemplating asking Alaina to dinner. They could use this towncar, of course. His uncle owned the business, so it wasn't as thought he had to return it right away.

She gave him another address, though: 1531 Wisconsin Ave NW Washington DC. He knew where the address was, of course. He didn't know what businesses were at that address, though. As they arrived, he found the street blocked by police reacting to a traffic accident. He got them as close as possible. When he helped her out of the car, he again asked, "Do you need me inside to help?"

If only he knew what the shop sold.

 

[AnnieBloom]

The Capitol
Washington DC:

Emelia listened to Agent Starr's concerns, which she understood and appreciated. Giving the Agent greater access to the goings-on aboard the mother ship was going to be an issue, as the Matluk were involved in dozens of operations, large and small, that Emelia didn't want M'Chel and, by extension, the President knowing. But most of these would come out eventually, and Emelia's desire to have M'Chel at her side was just too great to let these things get in the way.

“Not negotiable," the Agent said after stressing that if Emelia came down to Earth to speak to any Human anywhere, she came, too. "Sneaking to Earth Violates this agreement. You wanna meet with Putin, great. I hope you, the President and Putin can have a face to face and make peace on this plane. Just don’t do it by sneaking around.”

Emelia considered the Agent's demand, wondering if there was still room for sneaking around without arousing suspicions. No, it probably wouldn't happen. Face to face negotiations took time: getting there, talking, getting back. No, M'Chel would have to come, there was no doubt about that. Was it going to be a problem? Probably, at times, but Emelia would figure that out when the time came.

“If you can accept those conditions," M'Chel said, "I’d be happy to..live aboard your ship."

"Thank you, Agent Starr," Emelia responded. "I will make arrangements with President Paulson for the transfer from her Protection Detail to mine. We'll give it a few days to ensure that you are happy with it, but if at any time you feel that the job is not right for you, you only have to tell me so, and a shuttle will bring you home within the hour."

"Do you have any concerns of fifth columnists?" M'Chel asked.

Captain Sally Keen of the NASA would have laughed at that question. She'd been a fan of both the original and remake of the television series, "V". But Sally's memories were hidden deep in Emelia's subconscious and only accessible if the Emissary searched them. She asked with obvious ignorance of the entertainment program, "Fifth element?"

M'Chel continued, "Um.. are you worried any of your people object to your coming to Earth, and may take hostile action against you?”

Emelia did laugh at this. "No. No, not at all. Our people are as one when it comes to our mission to aid the Human Race in preventing the further degradation and possible destruction of Earth. Trust me when I tell you, we are a benevolent species and mean you no harm." Then, as she had at the barricades earlier but without what President Paulson had called the firefly effect, Emelia said with a smile, "You will have peace."

"I would like to speak more with you on this topic, but now is not the time. Once you have reported to the mother ship, I will tell you all you need to know in regard to the Matluk plan for your planet. I believe that you will approve." Catching a glimpse of Angela returning, Emelia told M'Chel in a softer volume, "And to assuage any concerns you might have regarding disloyalty to your Commander in Chief, anything and everything you see or hear while in my service can be shared with President Paulson. We have no secrets."

That wasn't even close to being true, of course, but it would do for now. M'Chel was going to see and hear things that Emelia would prefer did not get back to Angela at all, let alone while they were taking place. It would be Emelia's job to convince the Agent to keep this information to herself, for the good of the planet.

"I believe we have an agreement regarding Agent Starr's temporary assignment to my service, Madam President," Emelia said. "A shuttle will be available on a moment's notice to come down to retrieve Agent Starr, giving you some time to pack some things." She smiled, adding, "And discuss how Agent Starr will make reports of what she she's and hears while in my presence."

"Now, Emissary, Agent Starr is not being assigned to you for the purpose of--"

Emelia held up a hand in a polite gesture to silence Angela's vow that M'Chel's chief mission was to spy on the Matluk. She politely apologized, "I misspoke, Madam President. Forgive me."

One of the uniformed and helmeted Matluk guards who'd been shadowing Emelia during her time outside the White House came up to whisper to his Mistress. Emelia smiled to the pair of Humans, explaining, "I must go, Madam President, Agent Starr. My pilot wishes to have my shuttle off your streets before it gets any later. I believe his is afraid that some street urchin might steal the hubcaps and pawn them."

She laughed heartily. "Please forgive my inappropriate humor. I have been watching some of your broadcast television productions. Movies they are called, yes? I particularly like the comedies about urban life and situations of complicated romantic interactions. Human sexuality and the both the comedy surrounding it and the drama that results can be very interesting."

Emelia was ready to call it a night and make her way back to the shuttle. The sun was dropping behind the cityscape, and darkness was threatening.

 

[HumanBean]

Naval Observatory
Vice President's Residence
Washington DC:

The sun was going down as Clark Griffin returned to his residence. His day had included meetings and events all over the city. He'd dedicated a new clinic aimed at serving Washington DC's homeless population. He'd met with a delegation from some tiny, insignificant island country concerned with rising sea levels. They wanted to know what the US was going to do about its global warming emissions. Clark had wanted to say We'll drive slower. That wouldn't have sounded well on social media, though.

His unofficial duties had included three more meetings with political and financial backers. Clark was becoming well positioned to challenge Angela Paulson for the top spot on the Democratic ticket for next year's Presidential election. He was still waiting for her to make her monumental fuckup in regard to the Matluk. It was coming. He knew it. His backers knew it.

Returning home, he found his wife was still away. No worries there. These days, she was just a political bobble he wore around his wrist for State functions. He disposed of his briefcase and jacket. Then, also disposing of Frank for the night, Clark went upstairs to his new intern's quarters. Alaina Carmichael was out and about somewhere. Shopping, if he knew women, which he did.

He milled about her room casually. He checked out the few possessions she'd brought in her one suitcase and one carryon. Opening the top drawer of the dresser, he found her panties. He lifted one to his nose, breathing in deeply. Laundry freshener. Not pussy. What had he expected? They were clean after all. He contemplated searching the laundry basket in the ensuite but didn't.

The clothes in the closet left a lot to be desired. Casual. More casual. Professional. Nothing overly sexy. No sexy little black dress. He'd have to take her shopping for an LBD in the near future. For an official function maybe. For a private dinner? Maybe after they'd gotten to know one another better. Or, better yet, right before they got to know each other very well.

Clark left Alaina's room, headed for his own, and stripped for a shower. He masturbated to images of her pressed up against the shower wall. Still needing more, he called a number from a burner he kept hidden in his desk. An hour later, a car arrived, pulling directly into the garage at the rear of the residence. Ten minutes later, Clark was emptying his balls into a well skilled escort's mouth. They would spend the rest of the night sucking, fucking, and generally making him feel like he was a man of greater power than he truly was.

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

Agent Starr
“I doubt a street urchin would steel the hubcaps,” M’Chel told the POTUS after the Alien left. “They’re more likely to kidnap the driver and demand a ransom for the parts from every country on the planet.”

“MacPherson knows sign language and is already in the white House detail.” M’Chel advised already thinking about what she’d take with her. She had a go-bag in her vehicle, and it had most of what she needed. Stopping at the press secretary’s desk she grabbed some notebooks and pens.

“If you have no objections Madam President, I’ll stay in the offsite location tonight and get the rest of my gear. I’ll go ...up tomorrow morning.”

****

"Do you need me inside to help?" Kyle asked.

If he knew what this place sold he’d never have asked. And although she was tempted to invite him in, just so she could watch him blush and back out the doors, she restrained herself.

Leaning in the open window of the car she let him look down her cleavage, hell he’d been trying to get a descent look all day. It was the least she could do. “Once you park, if you think you can handle it, come inside and find me. And bring the hat.”

Heading into the building she found an attended and told her what she was interested in, her sizes, and the colors she was looking for.

 

[HumanBean]

Washington DC
Kyle:

“Once you park, if you think you can handle it," Alaina told Kyle, "come inside and find me. And bring the hat.”

He smiled, curious about what she meant. He looked in the direction of the store she was going to visit. He couldn't see either the signage or the storefront from here. And his hat? He'd taken it off after picking her up initially. He'd hoped it would lessen the distance between them as chauffeur and client. It seemed to have been working. They'd had a good time talking, joking, and teasing. But now she wanted him to don it once more?

"I saw a lot around the corner," he said. He donned the hat to demonstrate acknowledgement of her request. "It'll be a couple of minutes."

He watched her as she walked away. My god. What an ass! Kyle wanted to badly to ogle that ass, bare and from above as he rammed her from behind. Maybe right here in the Towncar's backseat. Maybe in the parking lot he'd spoken of. He pulled out, circled the block, parked, and locked up. One block up, one block over. It was a beautiful day. Kyle was enthused about his job. About his client. About the possibilities.

He wasn't paying attention to the shop's storefront as he entered. He was watching as the ambulance pulled away from the accident scene. The bell dinged over his head as he entered. A saleswoman gave him a devilish smirk. "Good evening, sir. Shopping for your wife? A girlfriend? A lover?"

Kyle's face tied up in a confused expression. Then, Jesus Christ! He looked about to find himself, surprised. Racks, shelves, and mannequins sported the sexiest, scantiest, most delicious women's undergarments he'd ever seen. The blood ran from his face in embarrassment. The blood went straight to his cock. It went from dangling to the left as was typical to swelling upwards to full stiffness in seconds.

Then, Kyle made eye contact with his client.

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

Smiling devilishly Alaina took the hat from his head and put it in his hands, “You shouldn’t wear a hat inside. It’s inappropriate,” She told him placing the hat in front of his rather hard cock, her hands were soft and lingered on his cock for a moment, like she was measuring him. “You should hold it in your hands, or under your left arm. Your Choice.”

Looking over the selections of attire the attendant brought over she flipped her hair to the side and looked at Kyle. “Which do you like? I can’t quite decide.”

Everything brought out was lace and transparent pieces with bits of string that were far overpriced for the amount of material. Pinks, Blues, Whites, and Blacks. Some in red, but not much. “I’d model some of it, but that’s not allowed for... intimates.” She whispered in his ear rather seductively. “Maybe... another time?”

Watching his reactions she asked. “Oh, are there any clubs I can go... topless?. Not fond of clothing when I’m not working. Oh, and a nude beach? Even a private one? I need to keep working on my tan.” It was rather interesting watching his reactions.

 

[HumanBean]

Washington DC

Kyle:

(OOC: His pic attached below.)

“You shouldn’t wear a hat inside," Alaina purred to Kyle. "It’s inappropriate.”

She'd crossed the store to stand directly before him. Kyle was confused. Alaina had asked her to wear it. Why was she now telling him to shed it. Then she took it and lowered it to hide his groin. Suddenly, and embarrassingly, he realized that she'd seen his erection and was now hiding it for him. He flinched, shocked, when something touched his cock. Was it his hat? No. No, it was the back of her fingers. And it wasn't just a graze. Her digits slipped slowly up and down much of his length. She was measuring him for size. That was good news. Very good news.

“You should hold it in your hands," she said, "or under your left arm. Your Choice.”

She was referring to his chauffeur's cap, of course. Kyle had the perfect comeback, but about his cock, not his cap. Something to the effect of Well, it's long, but not long enough to hold under my arm. It was probably better to keep his mouth shut, though. So, he stood there in silence, holding his cap to hide the tent in his crotch.

“Which do you like?" Alaina asked after inspecting the sexy undergarments. "I can’t quite decide.”

"I, um, well, the pink, it's, but then the blue," Kyle rambled. It wasn't as though he'd never seen sexy lingerie, panties, or bras. He had. He'd seen them on sexy women and taken them off, too. But this! This was all very new to Kyle. He tried again, "The white. No. The black. Black. Definitely, black."

“I’d model some of it, but that’s not allowed for... intimates,” she whispered into Kyle's ear seductively. “Maybe... another time?”

"Another time, definitely," Kyle repeated. "Definitely, another time." He couldn't believe this was happening. He'd been sure that his fantasies about Alaina would go unfulfilled. But now? If she wasn't teasing, he wouldn't be yanking his own shank tonight. Could it be?

Then she asked, “Oh, are there any clubs I can go ... topless?"

"Oh, fuck," he murmured to himself. It was softly spoken. She might not have even heard him.

She continued, "Not fond of clothing when I’m not working. Oh, and a nude beach? Even a private one? I need to keep working on my tan.”

Kyle quickly searched his biological hard drive. "Yes. Yes! Yes, there's, um, two I can think of. Clubs, I mean."

They were sex clubs. Underground venues for the wild, crazy, and discrete. One was fairly R-rated in the public areas. It's private areas were anything goes. The other was full on orgy. It's clientele was very exclusive. Kyle had taken clients there but had never seen the inside. He doubted he could get Alaina inside. Maybe one of his contacts could.

His excitement waned quickly, though. "Problem is, they're 21 and over. But ... I know a guy who can get you a fake ID. Good one. He works at the DMV, in the department that actually produces the driver's licenses, ID cards, and work permits."

He thought about the other question. "No nude beaches in the DC area. However, I have a friend with a piece of property just barely past the DC/Maryland line. It's private. Isolated." He smiled wider. "I'd love to take you there." He looked Alaina's body over conspicuously. "First, though, I'd love to see you in some of those."

Kyle forgot that she'd said she couldn't try them on here.

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

“Twenty-one and over? To bad I’m only eighteen,” Alaina pouted. “Are they.. sex clubs?” She asked scandalously.

“I really like laying out on a boat, the cool wind blowing across my naked body…” She added lifting several pieces and laying them against her clothed form so he could see.

Looking over at the lady helping her he told her which one she wanted, which was a few of them, and handed her a credit card. “They’re just for me, so no gift wrapping.”

“Oh, and could you add this one,” She said selecting one of the intimate sets Kyle had been stumbling over. Gods she was being horrible with the teasing, though she was tempted to let him have a peak, or a photo.

Maybe...

 

[HumanBean]

Washington DC

Kyle shopping with Alaina:

“Twenty-one and over?" she asked. She pouted, "Too bad I’m only eighteen."

Kyle glanced past the teasing beauty to the salesclerk. The woman was pretending not to be listening. But he was sure she could hear them. He whispered, "Not a problem. I can take care of that."

She asked, "Are they ... sex clubs?”

He again glanced at the shop's clerk. He was feeling very conspicuous. Not just because of the conversation, of course. He was so hard down below his belt line that it was hurting.

Alaina talked about laying naked on a boat, feeling the wind on her bared flesh. Only then did Kyle realize that his heart was pounding. He had no poker face when it came to lust. If this had been strip poker, he'd be the first one sitting there on the floor naked. Would that be so bad, though?

His client added to her purchase the sexy bra and panties set Kyle had shown interest in. His lips spread. Did that mean he'd see them on her? He could only hope. As the clerk ran the purchases, Kyle turned to retrieve the Towncar. His back was to the women as he reached inconspicuously to his cock. He shifted it for comfort.

Four minutes later, he was double parked in front of the store. He was blocking the car behind him. The driver honked and flipped Kyle off. The chauffeur just smiled and waved politely. Opening the door for Alaina, he said, "No time for the trunk, Miss Carmichael."

Alaina carried her bags into the back seat with her. The other driver honked again. Kyle smiled and waved again. Differently this time, though. Just his middle finger. Once again in the driver's seat, he pulled them away. A dozen blocks later, they were out of the busy shopping district. Looking in the rear view, he smirked devilishly.

"So, I wonder, maybe," he said, using Alaina's earlier flirtatious tone. "Since we have a bit of a drive. And since we're no longer in the store. Maybe you'd model that black set for me...?"

 

[AnnieBloom]

(Continuing from #65)

Pennsylvania Avenue:

After leaving Agent Starr, Emelia headed back for her shuttle, surrounded even more securely by Secret Service and Capitol Police. She waved to the crowds, which had grown but also been corralled better behind the barriers and a shoulder to shoulder row of police in riot gear. Heading up the ramp, she turned back to the people.

She was tempted to once again do her firefly routine but resisted. She'd promised the President that she wouldn't. Instead, she only smiled, waved, turned, and departed. The shuttle lifted almost fully vertically, then headed out over Washington. Behind it, the crowds were chanting Emelia's own words: We will have peace! We will have peace!


On the White House's South Lawn:

M'Chel Starr accepted Emelia's offer, then confirmed it with Angela, giving her a name of the Secret Service Agent she recommended to replace her on POTUS's Protection Detail. She said, “If you have no objections Madam President, I’ll stay in the offsite location tonight and get the rest of my gear. I’ll go ...up tomorrow morning.”

"We're not in that big a hurry, Agent Starr," Angela informed M'Chel. "I arranged with the Emissary for you to have a few days off. A shuttle will land at Edwards Air Force Base at 4pm three days from now. Take the time. You deserve it. Plus, I want an opportunity to speak with you before you shift assignments."

Even though Angela didn't say it aloud, she presumed that M'Chel understood that she wanted to discuss how Agent Starr was going to collect and pass intel on the Matluks. They had to be careful about this. Emelia already knew that M'Chel was going to be informing on her, of course. The Matluk leader had said as much. Still, Angela wanted this transfer of intel to be under the radar as it might lead to M'Chel seeing and being able to report even more than Emelia would have appreciated.

From the South Lawn where the quarantine tent had been, Angela caught the reflection of city lights off the Matluk shuttle as it rose into the sky from the north side of the White House. Her Chief of Staff came to her, suggesting that they get inside and out of the eye of the public. The Secret Service hadn't had an opportunity to fully secure the entire neighborhood north or south of the White House. If there was some nut out there who wanted Angela dead, this was the perfect time for it.

"Three days, Agent. No sooner!" Angela stressed to M'Chel. "Take some time off and be back here at 10am so that we can talk." She headed away, surrounded by Secret Service.

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

Throwing her bags into the back seat of the car Alaina waved at the honking driver, flipping him off as well. Sliding into the car she closed the door as they moved forwards and slid into traffic.

“People in this town need to learn to relax,” she told him.

"So, I wonder, maybe," he said, using Alaina's earlier flirtatious tone. "Since we have a bit of a drive. And since we're no longer in the store. Maybe you'd model that black set for me...?"

“Maybe, but not in the back of a car, and not tonight. I’m getting shit for sleep tonight as it is,” she told him looking at the darkness creeping in. “I have to be up at four to work out. But you get me those ID’s and I’ll make sure you won’t regret it.”

She kept flirting with him on the drive, it wasn’t back home, because this wasn’t her home. But it was where she was staying. For now, at least.

Leaning forward between the seats she shifted the rear-view mirror so he couldn’t use it and whispered in his ear. “You’re cute, for an older guy.” And then she licked his ear and sat back. Sitting right behind him he couldn’t turn to see what she was doing, but from the sounds of it, she was certainly enjoying herself.

When she did finish it was blocks from the house, barely enough time to straighten her clothes. “You can fix the mirror now,” she told him.

When he pulled to a stop and opened the truck for her bags, she lay her hand on his face, wiping her middle finger across his lips and letting him taste her.

Of course, one of the Secret Service people collected her bags and took them inside. “I’ll call you again… soon.”

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

Three Days. What the fuck was she going to do for three fucking days? Not go grocery shopping that’s for sure. Throwing a pizza in the oven straight from the freezer she clicked on Netflix.

When she woke up in the morning she went for a run, hit the gym and worked out for a while. Thank God D.C. had 24hr locations.

When she finally showed up at 0900 at the front gate she’d showered and gotten a nice clean suit on. Netflix and every channel on tv were going nuts for Alien movies. Invasions, Kid Friendly anything anybody had was being shown. As long as Aliens were involved.

Too damned many alien movies. The internet was drowning in Alien stories, everyone and their brother was reporting their abduction stories. Thank God she wasn’t FBI, they’d be drowning in paperwork. Homeland security would be balls deep in the crazies blaming the US Government for plotting against the citizens.

Thank God she only had to go aboard an alien spaceship and spy on them. Well, she could have turned the job down and stayed to protect a POTUS that had a suicide wish. Had she seen a therapist since her husband died?

Walking the halls she felt like she’d been given a death sentence, or a new chance at life. She said hello to the people in the hall, most of them giving her a wide berth, some shaking her hand like she won the lottery of the lifetime.

Stopping at the end of the hall she let the agent on duty know why she was there and let him announce her.

 

[HumanBean]

Washington DC:

Kyle, driving Alaina back to the Naval Observatory:

Alaina passed on modeling her underwear for Kyle. She vowed to do so another day, though. He began to fear again that she was nothing more than a tease. Then she said, "But you get me those ID’s and I’ll make sure you won’t regret it.”

That was promising, for obvious reasons. Kyle would get her what she needed. But he wouldn't hand them over until after he'd emptied his balls inside her. Mouth or pussy didn't matter to him. Ass? Not his thing. Was it hers? He couldn't wait to find out. He told her, "We just need a pic of you with the right background. I'll arrange it with my friend. Tomorrow, maybe the next day."

“You’re cute, for an older guy,” she said close to his ear. Then, surprising him, she licked his ear.

Tease or not, Kyle enjoyed that. His cock was once again hard as a rock. Then she shocked him like no woman ever had. There was no doubt what she was doing back there. He wanted to move the rearview mirror to see her. She'd probably stop, though. Just listening to her was enough. For now. Maybe next time she'd let him watch. Then participate?

Her moans ceased, and Kyle thought she'd quit. Then, a gush of air from her lungs told him that she'd only been holding her breath. Intensifying her climax. Treasuring the euphoria erupting through her. Kyle again considered adjusting the mirror. Again, he maintained Alaina's right to privacy. If you could call masturbating in back seat of a limo private.

Kyle had slowed the Towncar to a few miles below the speed limit to ensure Alaina had the time she needed. Then he saw the gate to the Naval Observatory. He was going to drive past it. But Alaina told him, “You can fix the mirror now.”

He did, quickly, hoping for a view of something. Anything! All he got, though, was a quick look at her cleavage as she buttoned up her blouse. It was bra at least. That counted for something. Stopping in the circle drive to unload, Alaina surprised him with a fingertip to his lips. It was still wet with her juices. He conspicuously licked it up, smiling and whispering, "You taste good."

“I’ll call you again,” she said as two staff members hurried out to retrieve her packages. She added, "Soon."

"I can't wait," he told her. Softly, he said, "Let me know when you want that picture taken."

(OOC: For anyone who is following our story, I deleted the paragraphs here about Alaina arriving home and Clark asking her to his office. I was reminded that Clark is in bed with a high-end escort, getting his knob shined.)

 

[AnnieBloom]

May 5th, 2035:

The three days since Emelia had returned to the mother ship had been anything but boring in various locations upon and above the planet.

In the Capitol of the United States, the Washington Post ran a well corroborated story that Vice President Clark Griffin was planning a run for the top of the Democratic ticket in the 2036 Presidential Election. President Angela Paulson hadn't believed the story initially, but her staff had dug into it and found plenty of corroboration. Angela had requested a sit down with Clark at the Oval for this very afternoon.

American Intelligence had found evidence that the rumors of the Matluk visiting other countries was indeed true. In some cases, the CIA and/or NSA had uncovered the reasons for these visits, while in others they had not. The Matluk had visited all of the other permanent members of the United Nations Security Council: France, Russia, China, the UK. They'd also made visits to half a dozen African nations, more countries than that in Asia, Japan, some Micronesian islands, and more.

The CIA had also uncovered a plot within the Chinese government to divert one of its surveillance satellites to approach the Matluk mother ship. President Paulson had secretly made contact with the Chinese President to explain the actions, only to be told, first, that China was doing no such thing and, second, if they had been doing anything of that nature, it would be none of the US's business.

President Paulson was understandably worried about China's actions, which was ironic seeing how the US was doing the very same thing. In fact, the US had diverted three satellites to get a better view of the mother ship. Within hours of one of them shifting orbit, it stopped transmitting. A second one went offline after 14 hours of change of course. Space Command was hoping that the third would continue to function as it had stealth capability. Only time would tell.

After the event in Houston, the world had been wondering what else the Matluk might be able and willing to do. That first act of benevolence was about to come. At Edwards Air Force Base, an alien shuttle landed to pick up Secret Service Agent M'Chel Starr. Emelia was onboard, something M'Chel had been previously told wasn't going to be happening. She smiled to the Human now assigned to her Protection Detail, saying, "Welcome aboard, Agent Starr. Are you ready to get to work?"

Emelia knew that M'Chel had met with President Paulson this morning, of course. Thanks to a phone intercept, using the American's own listening technology courtesy of the intrusion upon the Pine Gap Listening Station in Australia, Emelia even knew the topic of the conversation: espionage.

Angela Paulson had asked Agent Starr to keep her eyes and ears open, which Emelia would have expected, of course. She would have done the same herself if she had put one of her own people inside the White House. (Truth was, the Matluk already had a First Wave Insert inside the White House.) What had interested Emelia more was the method by which M'Chel was to report her findings back to Angela.

Incorporated into the Agent's luggage was a communications device the Chinese had invented several years earlier and which the US had stolen during another bit of espionage. It was small yet powerful and had the appearance of a standard satellite phone, but it could transmit a burst signal through either the atmosphere or the void of space as far as 10,000 miles. No Human knew whether or not the Matluk could detect the transmission, which took only a fraction of a second to send as many as 100,000 characters, as well as photos and video. They'd find out when and if the aliens seized the device after M'Chel used it for the first time. Despite knowing that the Agent had the device, Emelia ordered it to remain in M'Chel's possession.

The shuttle's transparency mode was operational, giving M'Chel a view of her surroundings as the craft lifted from the Air Force base. Initially, it headed east-by-southeast for the mother ship, as had been cleared with American flight control. Just seconds after the shuttle left atmosphere, though, Emelia looked to the craft's pilots and said, "You may begin."

"Yes, Mistress, " the pilot said out of habit. The co-pilot tapped at his control panel, and a moment later the walls of the shuttle rematerialized.

Emelia looked to M'Chel, smiled, and explained, "That is what they call me. It is just a title." Then, with her smile widening, she said, "This might tingle a bit."

Seconds later, an electrical shock that lasted a good six or seven seconds made its way through the Human's body. Emelia herself trembled a bit, then giggled. She had an expression on her face that looked almost post-orgasmic. She explained, "We do not know why engaging the cloak does that. It only happens to the Human body, not the Matluk. It happens to mine, too. To Captain Keen's body, I mean. It is--"

She paused, laughed again, then finished, "It is actually quite pleasurable. Sometimes I have them engage and disengage the cloak simply to experience it." The co-pilot announced that their new course was set to which Emelia told M'Chel, "Next stop, the Sahara."

Emelia ordered the shuttle's attitude altered so that M'Chel could see the planet below through one of the regular windows. Below them, the Atlantic Ocean passed by quickly. Land appeared again, with Emelia reporting to the Agent, "That should be Western Sahara." Over the next minute, she identified the countries passing below: Mauritania, Mali, the extreme southern tip of Algeria, Niger, and finally Chad. There really was no way to tell which country they were actually passing over at any one time, of course. It was all just the same never-ending desert as far as the eye could see. Emelia knew only because from where she sat, she could see a panel between the two pilots that listed that information in the language of the Matluk.

"Get ready," Emelia said to M'Chel. The feeling of pseudo-ecstasy flooded through her again, followed by a laugh and, "Wow. That was, what, interesting."

The transparency mode activated again, revealing the vastness of the Sahara. The shuttle changed course again, passing over several villages, small towns, and one larger city over the next five or six minutes. Emelia began explaining some of the history of the area, emphasizing how military conflict had resulted over the lack of resources, particularly water. She smiled again, saying, "Today, we are going to do something about that."

Emelia pointed M'Chel's attention out the starboard side of the shuttle. They zipped past a second shuttle, this one at least five times the size as the one the Human and Matluk were cruising over the desert in. From the bottom of the craft, a beam of light a meter in diameter was shooting down into the ground a hundred meters below, sending up a cloud of dirt, dust, sand, and smoke.

"It is digging a well down, down more than 600 meters deep," Emelia explained, clarifying, "Almost 2,000 feet. More if necessary. The region traditionally received less than 50 millimeters, or 2 inches, of rain each year. Because of changes in weather patterns due to global warming, most regions of Chad have not received measurable rain in more than three years. The people are dying, Agent Starr. No water. No life. We are going to fix that."

They passed a second, then a third, then a fourth drilling shuttle. The last two had finished their digging, and below them water was shooting out of the ground, reaching a height of almost 200 feet at one well. Emelia continued, "But accessing the aquifer isn't enough."

Their course took them to where a trio of shuttles floating just feet above the ground were sending up a massive sand cloud. In their wakes, a miles long ditch ran adjacent to a mound. Emelia explained, "They are building a dike, to hold the water in place, preventing it from simply flowing away downhill from their communities to the ocean. The water will provide irrigation for crops, stock animals, and the people themselves. And when the rains return, if they return, the dikes will capture that water, hold it, and return it to the aquifer."

Below them, a slowly moving wave of water flooding toward and up against the four-foot high dike. As a puddle became a pond and that pond became a lake, Human children frolicked in the water, splashing about with great joy. Emelia smiled wide, possibly as happy as the children below. She told the pilot, "Take us down, please."

As the shuttle descended, she told M'Chel, "The Matluk have eight of these operations in planning across Chad and Niger. When they are finished, almost half a million people who had been facing relocation, or death, will be able to remain in their communities. They will be able to grow crops, feed their families, and rebuild their lives and futures."

The shuttle landed near a village, and even before the ramp lowered and the door opened, it was surrounded by more than a hundred joyously cheering men, women, and children. Emelia stood and looked to M'Chel, saying, "Time to go to work, Agent Starr."