“Espérate,” Regina said, raising the hand holding the drink to stop Eva before she could disconnect the call. “I don’t know where you’re going, pero I’m leaving on a business trip. Así que, if you need anything else from me—”
“Don’t worry, I won’t,” Eva snapped.
“Fine. Jódete, malcriada. Que te vaya bien.” And with that, the holovid vanished, leaving Eva to stare at her closet and fume in silence.
This was why she and her mother had never gotten along. They always fed into each other’s anger, like they were a pair of incendiary devices, both simultaneously starting fires and getting set off by them. And they each knew how to push the other’s buttons, knew exactly what to say and how to say it for maximum damage.
And after all that, they still had to go to Garilia. Eva wilted as the rage drained out of her, and she allowed herself to flop back into the bed and stare at the ceiling.
A quiet knock interrupted her thoughts. She opened the door with a mental command, and there stood Vakar, smelling like a cloud of anxiety and remorse.
“We must talk,” he said.
Eva suddenly, strongly, wished she had a drink of her own. “Of course. Okay. Come in.”
He stepped inside and the door closed behind him. Eva waited quietly, nervously, wondering if he could smell the vinegary sweat she was probably covered in. As usual, she broke down first.
“I’m sorry I didn’t—”
“This is not about Garilia,” he said. “I have received communications from my superiors. They are reassigning me.”
Eva’s stomach flipped as if the ship’s gravity had stopped working. Her mouth opened and closed like the fish’s in the tank behind her. They’d talked about the possibility before, but to have it happen now, of all times . . . She had hoped that, maybe, even knowing what she had done on Garilia, that they could still . . . That nothing would change. But she’d always been good at lying to herself, better even than lying to other people. This was one more example of how lying was a shitty option and created more problems than it solved.
And yet if you had kept lying, maybe he wouldn’t be leaving, she thought.
No, that was bullshit. It would have come up eventually, and then what? This, but later, and worse.
His annoyed smell intensified, but with an unexpected undercurrent: licorice. Eva hadn’t realized she was staring at the floor, but she looked up at him then, fighting the same feelings of hope that she’d had when her mother called.
“Eva, I did not come in here to inform you that I was leaving,” Vakar said. “I wanted to discuss how to convince my superiors to allow me to stay.”
“Oh,” Eva said, her voice small even to her own ears. The rush of relief she felt was soon dwarfed by guilt, and disgust for feeling relieved when she knew she didn’t deserve to keep him to herself. “Are you sure?” she asked.
“Yes,” he replied. He hesitated for a moment. “There is more I wish to discuss with you, about your . . . experience on Garilia, but this is urgent.”
Eva nodded, her throat tight with a host of emotions she wasn’t about to untangle.
Taking that as a cue, Vakar sat next to her on her bed, the smell of his annoyance giving way to relief and pensiveness. “I would like to relay to them that I am trailing a former Fridge agent,” Vakar said. “One who escaped from the main facility and may be in possession of data from their experiments. I believe that will more than convince them to allow me to continue on our intended course.”
Eva kicked her sluggish brain until it started working again. “Right. Okay. If you tell them about Josh, they would probably make the connection between him and Sue, which could make your case stronger or weaker, depending.”
“Indeed. I could omit the specific information regarding the identity of my target, but that may be perceived as suspicious and lead to further questions.”
Eva nodded, scratching her head. “The thing is, we need to get Josh out of there and deliver him to my sister. So whatever we tell your people, ideally, won’t make them want him for questioning instead.”
Vakar’s smell gained a dark edge. “They may request that I eliminate him, depending on the nature and extent of the intelligence he provides.”
Eva winced. “Definitely can’t have that.” She flopped backward so she could stare at her fish tank above her bed while she thought. Vakar began to run a claw up and down her leg, until she finally lifted her head to frown at him.
“I can’t concentrate with you doing that,” she said.
“My apologies, I had not even noticed.” He stopped, but his bashful smell sapped any annoyance she’d been feeling right out.
“Thank you,” she said. “Not for that, I mean. You know.”
“I know.”
Eva sat up and hugged him, and he wrapped his arms around her in return, and they sat quietly in her licorice-smelling cabin, sorting things out together for as long as it took.
Chapter 11
Catching Up
Garilia was the paradise of islands that Eva remembered from her first approach so many years earlier, several large clusters of green amid vast oceans of teal and darker blue that hearkened back to the Earth she had seen in still pictures and flat movies, the one scientists were working to bring back via careful terraforming. Its cities and towns were spread out, many of them hardly visible because they were constructed among forests of huge trees whose canopies extended like vast umbrellas to hide what lay beneath. Others floated on the top of the water, and still others were cut into the sides of mountains, and one even sat on a series of icebergs that had been lashed together to travel as a group.
Their destination, Spectrum City, was a new offshoot of the capital, Rilia. Several of its buildings rose to the same height as the trees nearby, and mimicked them in other ways as well. They featured the same kinds of canopies and branches, broad tops with falling cables made of some incredibly strong material, the buildings attached to them or stretching between. But instead of solid trunks covered in overlapping layers of colored bark, the core pillars were also buildings, translucent skyscrapers in brilliant geometric patterns of red and green and gold, the interiors almost entirely visible to anyone passing by.
And many people were passing by, because the whole series of structures was connected by various bridges and ziplines and cable cars that moved laterally as well as between levels. The xana wore harnesses with anchors that could quickly attach to a line and allow them to safely traverse short or long distances through the open air. Small vehicles floated between: the local equivalent of hoverbikes and larger transport pods, sometimes stretching out a tendril that attached to an existing line and let the rider coast up or down among the other individual gliders.
There were also the native creatures, though it seemed like fewer of them were interested in climbing or flitting about than Eva remembered from Rilia. They were likely Attuned, the companions of the xana, who had psychic links between them that were different from the ones xana could create with each other. They could communicate, at least in a rudimentary way given the animals weren’t fully sapient, and they could share emotions empathically to facilitate this communication.
Anything else they might be able to do wasn’t widely known, though Eva was sure of one thing: the Attuned didn’t die when their xana did.
She knew that much from experience.
They touched down in the city’s spaceport, a vast facility atop the crown of a fake tree, made from the same translucent colored materials as the other buildings but arranged to look like a set of wings catching the wind. It was crowded with small pleasure ships and the shuttles from the cruisers full of tourists that waited in orbit far above, with cargo vessels like La Sirena Negra herded into a separate area away from the delicate senses of the leisure class. The planetary customs authorities gave her ship’s credentials no trouble whatsoever, to Eva’s surprise and relief, and within a few minutes her crew was fully geared up and ready to go.
Eva wasn’t ready, emotionally s
peaking, but she didn’t think she ever would be. But she’d taken her meds and done her breathing exercises and was not about to let the worst fucking day of her life keep her from doing what needed to be done.
They were going to find Josh, and find him here, and that was that.
Everyone gathered in the mess before disembarking, for one last review of the plan. Pink also insisted they all eat something, because Min had checked out the local food situation and apparently the tourist economy had led to special tourist pricing.
“So, here’s the story,” Eva said. “The rebels are still in control—guess I should just call them the government now. It’s a communist structure, more or less. Lashra Damaal is technically a government employee, and the company she runs that makes the Ball Buddies—”
“Pod Pals, for heaven’s sake,” Pink interjected. She was inhaling a plate of beans, greens, and fried things with a speed only mothers and on-call medics could manage. Eva tried to steal a bite but Pink smacked her fork away.
“Fine, the Pod Pals. Sylfe Company is ostensibly owned and operated by the people of Garilia. Damaal also fills some other government roles that I’m not entirely clear on yet, stuff about cultural ambassadorship, for one.” Eva scowled. “And I’m hoping it’s a translator malfunction, but she’s also got a title along the lines of ‘Supreme Executive of the Enhanced Community Outreach Program’ that sounds like the cabrón comités all over again.” She poked at her rice and black beans, which were still slightly too hot to eat.
“The what?” Sue asked, her brow furrowing. “Committees?”
“Snitches,” Eva said, curling her lip in a snarl. “Have to make sure your little revolution doesn’t start its own counterrebellion. But hey, maybe these folks are just checking to see that every neighborhood is happy and healthy instead of rounding up political prisoners for fun and profit.”
“Eva,” Pink said, her tone a warning. Eva nodded even as she rolled her eyes.
“Right, so, the plan,” Eva said. “Vakar, you’re going to—”
“Infiltrate the local networks and attempt to determine whether there is any trace of a Joshua Zafone,” Vakar said. He munched on a stack of nutrient cubes, their smell and texture similar to a mild cheese, and washed it down with a plant-based shake.
“Pink?”
“Pop into a medical center and see if they need help,” Pink said. “With all these tourists, they could probably use someone with broad cross-species experience, and someone might be willing to talk about recent human patients. As long as it doesn’t violate any laws or ethics, mind.”
“Sue?” Eva asked, throwing a fake scowl at Pink, who shook her head.
“I’m going with you to, um.” Sue stared at her reconstituted potato mash, her pale skin mottled from discomfort. “Talk? To people?”
“Some people will be talked to, yes.” Eva took a bite of her own food, talking around it with a hand in front of her mouth. “We’re going to scout out the tourist centers to see what kind of human presence there is, and ask around about any particular humans who might have come through in the past six months.”
“And I’m coming, too,” Min said, slurping up a noodle for emphasis.
Eva paused, fork halfway to her mouth. “No, you’re staying on the ship.”
Min shook her head, blue hair swaying around her face. “I want to see the Attuned! And the Pod Pals. This place is way too awesome for me to stay in here.”
“It’s also dangerous,” Pink said. “Y’all are soft as a baby kitten.”
Min licked sauce off the corner of her mouth. “Oh, right, Mala wants to come, too!”
The calico cat sauntered in as if summoned, her tail straight up, hazel eyes surveying the available food options. With a gentle chirrup, she approached Pink and began to rub against her legs, meowing plaintively.
Eva swallowed. “No me diga,” she said. “We’re on a mission, not a vacation.”
Vakar smelled pensive. “Perhaps you will appear less suspicious or threatening if you are believed to be tourists.”
Eva squinted at him, then looked at Pink, who was making a similar face. “What do you think?” Eva asked.
“I don’t love it, but he’s not wrong,” Pink said. “You think you can babysit both of them and still get anything done?”
Min and Sue erupted into complaints about being compared to children, talking over each other almost too fast for Eva to understand. Eva gave a sharp whistle to cut them off, then put her fork down on her plate and shoved her chair back from the table.
“You’re not children, but you’re also not trained in more than basic self-defense,” Eva said. “So the deal is, if I take you, I do any and all fighting while you two run or hide. I do all talking to the locals, all bargaining, everything. You act like you’re tethered to my antigrav belt so you don’t get lost, and por favor, do not touch anything. Me entiendes?”
“Can we bring our bots?” Sue asked.
“No,” Eva and Pink responded in unison.
Sue and Min nodded and murmured assent, continuing to eat their food.
A plaintive meow and gentle pressure drew Eva’s attention downward. Mala had rubbed against her leg and was going in for another pass, pausing only to look up at Eva.
“You can’t come,” Eva said.
“Miau.” Mala’s pupils dilated briefly.
“No, you’re a tiny snack pack, don’t be ridiculous.”
“Miau.”
Eva glared at the cat. “If you come, you’re walking. I’m not gonna carry you.”
“Miau.”
“Fine. If you pee in my backpack, I’m giving you to a local.”
Mala purred and rubbed against Eva’s leg. Malcriada.
Eva had a bad feeling about all this, but she told herself that was just her own enormous sense of shame talking. With luck, one of them would find something, some hint of a trail that would lead them to Josh quickly, and then it would be smooth sailing back to Mari haloed in the sweet glow of success.
Sure, and maybe they’ll elect you the first ever president of space, Eva thought, glaring at the last few bites of beans and rice on her plate.
After a series of cable-car rides—which consisted of the whole crew snuggling in one car that periodically detached from existing cables and floated over to alternate ones—they arrived at the seaside tourist district, itself an arm of Spectrum City that extended directly from the spaceport for the convenience of the many visitors flocking to the pristine white beaches and their accompanying attractions. The water, as Eva’s commlink sensors and her newly engaged guide VI informed her, was a dihydrogen monoxide solution measuring a pleasant thirty-five degrees Celsius, its waves lapping serenely at the accumulation of carbonate minerals that comprised the shoreline. Different species preferred to interact with the natural treasure in different ways, with some taking holovids, some resting on or above the sand, and some swimming or floating languidly in the ocean. Some also appeared to be drinking the water, which struck Eva as highly questionable given her own experience with oceans, but she wasn’t there to wreck anyone’s good time.
Far enough from the beach to avoid sound pollution, a cluster of standard vacation experiences had been arranged to lure in an array of visiting species. Stores, restaurants, gaming rooms, museums, art galleries, science exhibits, concert halls, parks . . . everything was clean and orderly and had the air of being designed by a committee after extensive research and focus groups. There were also medical facilities and quantumnet cafés, among other modern conveniences, situated on side streets since they had less alluring fabulosity associated with them. All the buildings were constructed from the same translucent materials, their bold colors and geometric shapes forming bright shadows on the ground based on the angle of the blazing-white star overhead.
Eva and her crew passed a trio of xana in pale-gray uniforms wearing antigrav harnesses, all apparently unarmed. They were almost a full meter taller than Eva, their arms and torsos relatively thin but the
ir thighs thick with their species’ equivalent of muscle. Soft, short fur covered the exposed parts of their bodies, in different patterns of alternating pale and dark stripes. Their eyes were huge and black, with no visible irises, their ears small and pointed, mouths thin and lipless under a rounded snout. Long prehensile tails were hooked primly into loops extending out from the back of their necks—part of their clothing, not their anatomy.
Each of them also had an Attuned, either nearby or in direct contact with them. One resembled a turtle, but was bipedal and had its own tail that curled into a spiral. Another was like a small featherless todyk, and the third was more or less a walking plant with a face.
None of them spoke, and their facial expressions were neutral, but they emanated a psychic aura of friendliness and power that made Eva’s core muscles clench involuntarily. She could almost hear her mother berating her for being so suspicious of authority figures.
Mala, who had nestled herself in the hood of Min’s zippered sweater, clambered up to rest her forelegs on Min’s shoulders and glare at everyone, her pupils wide and her tail lashing back and forth. The turtle-looking Attuned made a hissing sound like a sudden air leak, and Mala’s ears angled back toward her head.
Eva consulted the VI and learned that these xana were called Watchers, and were agents of the aforementioned Community Outreach Program. Apparently, they were tasked with ensuring the city remained peaceful and happy for all its residents and visitors, though how exactly they managed to do that was unclear. Compliance with their requests was strongly recommended; Eva’s lip curled up in a snarl that pulled at the scar on her face.
As if that weren’t enough, it seemed like every building and statue and decorative element featured at least one form of surveillance equipment. Even Nuvesta, capital of the biggest damn federation of planets in the universe, didn’t have the sheer quantity of tech this place did. Whether every centimeter of the city was being recorded, or it was all just used for remote viewing and listening, the sheer density of the devices suggested there must be sophisticated software constantly checking for suspicious activity. That or hundreds of xana somewhere were poring over the feeds; Eva wasn’t sure which was creepier.
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