She steps off the plane, backpack full of her things over her shoulders, and stalks into the halls of LaGuardia, eyes peeled for Libby.
Hex goes, next hex does not go, Bella wants to think about it more before investing a star in speeding her head up in case she might catch her brain on fire or something. She closes her eyes and thinks up a moon palace. It has ambient air-lighting like Alice's lair, and a magic door down to same. It defends against the harmful parts of sunshine since there's not an atmosphere on top of it to help. She can put in furniture later, except the meeting room is going to start with a conference table and springy chairs so she and Libby and Alice and whoever else gets brought in have a place to talk.
It's invisible to everyone not on the whitelist, and all manner of scientific instruments are doomed to ignorance of it. It has a surprising number of open balconies for a palace on the moon, but they and the environs as well as the interior are covered by air circulation magic again similar to the lair. (Bella does not need to breathe; this does not mean she doesn't like being able to hear and speak.)
She leaves the gravity alone. 'Cause that's half the point of being on the moon, right? This may, on inspection, turn out to require a revision of the conference chairs, but that's no big deal.
Plumbing works by magic, she puts in a kitchen for recreational cheffery and it also works by magic, and the entire thing is made of gray-white marble and abstract stained glass in tastefully muted-pearly colors, with similarly pearly tiles. It has a vaguely cathedralish shape to it; it looks more like a goddess's palace than a queen's. Bella decides she is okay with that.
Fixing the design in her mind and double-checking the whole thing, Bella spends the hex. It's not that much more complicated than the lair was, just bigger, and not bigger by enough to be a problem.
[Yoink,] she warns Alice, but she thinks he'll like the surprise. "Here goes," she notifies Libby, and they all three land in her conference room.
"Well, hello," says Libby, about three-quarters to the room and one-quarter to the person who is presumably Whistle.
"Am I on the moon?" he demands.
"You are one hundred percent on the moon!" Bella says brightly. "Alice, this is Libby. Libby, Alice, also known as Whistle."
He bounces over to Bella and hugs her hard enough to lift her off the ground, not that that is difficult, because they are on the moon.
Bella is perfectly happy to hug Alice back. "So, Libby's going to help me take over the world, and probably isn't going to kidnap anyone we like anymore or spy on us, and I have decided to rule the world from the moon," Bella explains to Alice.
Then he puts her down and turns to face Libby, a little clumsily, because the gravity here takes some getting used to.
"Hi! Ooh, you know what this place needs? Cookies." A plate of cookies appears on the table; he flops into a chair and picks one up. "I'm eating cookies on the moon," he announces. "I love you, Bella."
Bella agrees with this assessment and ruffles Alice's hair. "There's a door from here to your lair," she informs him. "So you can come and go without making separate wishes."
"I think we should move the other doors from my lair up here; it's getting kinda crowded," he says. "Whatcha think? Did you make room for that somewhere?"
"There's lots of room, yes, and I agree," says Bella. "I'll line them up near the front door. It does not yet make sense to have a front door, really, but I'm thinking moon city." Hex hex hex, and there's a door from the moon to Toronto, to Stanford, and to her own bedroom back in Forks. "It would probably be best to put one in to New York too; where should that go, Libby?"
"I'll think about it," she says, "just a moment. That is a truly excellent cookie, Alice; did you bake them yourself?"
"I wonder if these are the first cookies eaten on the moon," muses Libby. "Anybody know?"
"We are," hums Bella. "Libby, what can you tell me about the leverage your organization has over various institutional type things? I can just start curing diseases and stuff right now, in theory, but I'm concerned that I'll destabilize something which is made of humans, and then won't be able to fix it without brute force. I could have done it before, but I didn't want to make any major moves before I had you figured out."
"In the sense where about sixty percent of my not-that-sinister organization is made up of various flavours of criminal who know me by that name."
"So it's, like, your codename? It's a decent codename if you're going to run a criminal organization."