Mari paused. “I don’t know what that means. Please be serious for a change.”
“I’m being serious. Bueno, doesn’t matter. Qué quieres?”
The Attuned fiddled with the monitors next to Eva, waving its small hands around and causing the machine to hum weirdly.
“Did you tell Mom something about what you’re doing for us?”
Eva froze. Well, more than she already was frozen. And she kept spinning, obviously.
“Why do you ask?” Eva asked.
Mari fell silent. After exactly ten seconds, she took a deep breath and exhaled so loudly that Eva could hear her from across the universe.
“I needed her help with something, but I didn’t tell her what it was for,” Eva said. “I didn’t mention you or anything.”
Mari inhaled and exhaled twice more before saying, with a xana-like calm, “Please check your q-mail. Now.” Without another word, she ended the call.
Eva had turned off notifications while they were off the ship because she hated being constantly pinged by bullshit gray mail and bill collectors. She opened her logs and waited for them to refresh, closing her eyes so the constantly shifting room wouldn’t make her queasy while reading.
Among the exciting offers for lines of credit and unnecessary spaceship upgrades, one item stood out. A message from her mother, which was presumably what had gotten Mari’s bloomers in a bunch. Eva opened it.
“Me cago en la hora que yo nací,” Eva said.
It was an awkwardly angled selfie of Regina Alvarez, grinning, in front of a very familiar building. One whose translucent, colorful glass walls would have been immediately recognizable even if Eva hadn’t passed right in front of them herself only a few hours earlier.
“Niss?” the pink Attuned asked.
“Niss indeed,” Eva replied. What the ever-loving fuck was her mother doing in Spectrum City? On Garilia?
Once Eva was finally discharged by her xana physician, after consultation with Pink and not a few assurances that further care would be provided by her personally, the entire crew was escorted out of the Communal Center by Watcher Rakyra and his associates. The food line had not diminished, but the waiting xana must have been actively suppressing or manipulating their psychic emanations, because the only thing Eva got from them as she walked by was deference to the Watcher’s authority.
After a long, silent transport ride, they reached their destination. The headquarters of the Enhanced Committee Outreach Program were at the tippy-top of the trunk of a skyscraper in Spectrum City, over a thousand meters up according to Eva’s commlink sensors. They rode up in an elevator that was, like virtually every place in the city, surrounded by translucent walls that afforded incredible views of not only the ocean and the neighboring buildings, with their ornament-like hanging structures, but also the city of Rilia in the distance, its organic trees smaller than the constructed ones but no less impressive. But the naturally occurring forest was darker, its leaves and trunks only partially transparent, making Spectrum City seem more glowing and vibrant by comparison.
It was a neat trick, a subtle manipulation of the many species who thrived on light rather than shade. Come bask in our radiance, it said. Shine with us.
We have nothing to hide.
While virtually every culture in every species across the infinite universe had different definitions of work and play, the xana “offices” appeared entirely leisurely to Eva, who had been raised to believe interrupting dinner to answer q-mail messages or fix a quick account issue was entirely reasonable. Wide woven hammocks hung at intervals in different shapes and configurations, with xana partially or totally reclined inside them, or even curled up in pairs or groups, apparently fast asleep with their tails wrapped around them. They might simply be like Min, resting their bodies while their minds were constantly busy, but Eva still felt like she was stomping through someone’s sun-drenched bedroom.
“Is the floor moving?” Sue asked in a tense whisper.
“Probably,” Eva said. “Must be a lot of wind this high up.”
The engineer paled and made a face like she was going to be sick, edging closer to Min, who wasn’t as bothered. Eva wasn’t a fan of heights, either, but she’d flown enough planetside missions while jacked into a ship that she didn’t experience the same vertigo other people did when faced with a long drop to solid ground. Of course, in this case, it didn’t help that the floors were made of the same colorful translucent material as the walls. With nearly every step came an awareness of how many levels were below them, each populated by xana engaged in their own daily activities, all capable of looking up or down to see what any other xana was doing at any given time.
Eva hated it. She’d take privacy in a metal box in space over brilliant ocean views any day.
Eventually they reached a door, the first of its kind since they exited the elevator. It was completely clear, as were the walls surrounding it, but the fact that any separation existed in the first place felt like a disturbance, an incongruity that stuck out more than the pack of humans, a quennian, and a cat standing in front of it with no idea what to expect inside.
“The Supreme Executive awaits your esteemed company,” Watcher Rakyra said, his psychic tone still courteous and respectful. The door opened, and he made a minute gesture with a three-fingered hand to suggest they enter.
The todyk-looking Attuned behind them emitted a sound like a sigh, intense heat emanating from what Eva assumed was its mouth. Not a threat, per se, but perhaps the creature’s version of a suggestion that it was time to move.
At the far end of the room, another xana waited, limned by the warm light of the planet’s star. She stood facing away from the door, her tail curled around a loop that hung from her neck, down to the center of her back. Her clothing was loose, layered and diaphanous, granting full mobility to not only her limbs and tail but also to the gliding membranes on either side of her body. She was pale-furred, nearly white, with stripes only a slightly darker shade of gray; soft, beautiful, and when she turned around, Eva had to remind herself to breathe, because the woman was literally exuding a tidal wave of psychic energy designed to inspire awe.
That is a cheap fucking trick, Eva thought. Sinvergüenza.
This time, at least, Mala had the sense to stay tucked away inside Min’s jacket. Not the best time to get into a psychic pissing contest.
“Welcome, honored guests. I am Supreme Executive Lashra Damaal.” Her voice was as lacking in inflection as the other xana, but somehow mild and warm. “Watchers, please accept my thanks for conveying them to me safely.”
“The pleasure is ours, Prime,” Watcher Rakyra replied, unblinking but vastly more psychically reverent than he had been to Eva and the others. “Do you require our continued presence or any other service?”
“You may return to your previous assignments unburdened by further obligations at the present time. May the Light embrace you.”
The phrasing sounded a little extra to Eva, but she made a note to ramp up her own levels of flowery and polite to keep up with the local customs. After everything else, it would suck to get kicked out for being rude.
Damaal returned her attention to the crew of La Sirena Negra as the Watchers and their Attuned left the room, closing that single solitary door behind them. It felt like being in a spotlight, but instead of visual glare it was psychic.
“It is my great privilege to meet the Hero of Garilia, about whom I have heard many tales,” Damaal said. “I hope you can forgive my extreme impertinence in requesting your presence so soon after your arrival, when you have not yet been afforded the opportunity to conduct the business that brought you to our bright city.”
Eva sensed a few unspoken questions buried in all that bullshit, but despite the psychic pressure to kneel like she was talking to the Virgin herself, she looked straight into Damaal’s huge black eyes and smiled.
“I’ve heard about you as well, Prime,” Eva said, figuring the title the Watcher used was her safest be
t. “All good things.”
Damaal began to walk serenely toward her, so fluidly that she seemed to be hovering. Her psychic tone lost a shade of its intensity, replacing it with gratitude that somehow managed not to suggest any indebtedness whatsoever. “I was not present for the People’s Glorious Revolution myself, but your actions will live forever in the hearts and minds of those who soared bravely in the Light that day.”
“I appreciate the kind words,” Eva said, hoping she didn’t sound too sarcastic.
“They are freely given,” Damaal replied. “May I impose on you further by extending an invitation to share in an imminent gathering of my fellows, namely a celebratory gathering to be followed by an exciting Tournament?” Her slow drift took her in front of Pink, who regarded the woman coolly, her face impassive, as if Damaal were the kind of troublesome patient who asked if there weren’t a more experienced doctor available for a second opinion.
“I think my doctor wanted me to get some more rest,” Eva said, pleased that she could be entirely sincere in saying so. Damaal was still fishing for information, trying to get Eva to give her a foothold where she could be more direct in her questioning. Eva wasn’t the best at this game, but she could hold her own. Mostly.
But how to find out anything about Josh without giving away their entire mission?
“Perhaps at the time of your next expected hunger interval,” Damaal replied, now radiating warmth along with authority. “I would be delighted beyond measure to send transport to retrieve you from your future location.”
And I’m not telling you where that is, Eva thought. Climb your own building and take a dive.
“That would be extremely generous of you,” Eva said aloud. “I hope it’s not rude to assume you can accommodate human and quennian dietary needs?”
“Not at all,” Damaal said. She glided past Vakar, whose scents were once again being suppressed. His palps twitched as her psychic emanations targeted him directly. “The expansion of our numerous facilities in Spectrum City has permitted us to obtain the latest in food-replication technology, as well as training and recruiting some of the finest chefs in the universe to extend every possible hospitality to our many honored guests.”
She continued her slow walk, but now she stopped in front of Sue, and Eva mentally slapped herself in the forehead. “If there is anything I can do to aid you in your business here, please do not hesitate to ask,” Damaal said. The wave of encouragement and goodwill she sent out was subtle but strong, like the scent of baked goods being blown out of a bakery by an industrial fan to lure in passersby.
((Stay quiet,)) Eva pinged at Sue, a moment too late.
“We’re trying to find my brother,” Sue blurted out, then covered her mouth with her hands and looked at Eva, eyes wide with an unspoken apology.
“Your brother,” Damaal said, still warm and encouraging, but Eva caught a hint of something else—surprise? Anger? It was so subtle she wasn’t sure it was real. Why had she thought Eva was there?
Sue nodded, but didn’t say anything else.
“I understand,” Damaal continued. “It must be painful to be separated from your—” Her words translated as “broodmate” and “rest companion” with some minor disagreement as to whether xana placed strong emphasis on either. “Perhaps if you provide more information, I might request that my Watchers assist you in locating him?”
“We wouldn’t want to impose,” Eva said. “We’re not even sure he’s here, honestly.” That was also true, so she was still in safe territory.
“May I inquire as to the reason you believe he would be on our excellent planet?” Damaal asked. Her tone was politely curious, keen to help, with enough empathy to clog an exhaust port. “We are far from major trade routes, and surely you would not trouble yourself to seek him out so cautiously if you expected him to be merely enjoying the fruits of our many delightful attractions.”
Eva weighed how much was worth keeping to herself now that Sue had let the proverbial cat out of the bag. What did Damaal already know, and what did she suspect? La Sirena Negra had faked credentials and they were all wearing biometric signature dupers, so she didn’t know who Sue was yet, theoretically, but once she did then she’d easily be able to figure out who Josh was. Probably not the Fridge connection, but anything else that was common knowledge on the q-net was fair game.
And all of this assumed that Damaal didn’t already know exactly who they all were, and hadn’t already been in contact with Josh for reasons of her own. She was certainly acting as if she hadn’t, and if she weren’t lying, that strongly suggested he really wasn’t on Garilia after all.
After everything Eva had been through so far, that would be quite a kick in the teeth. But again: why did she think Eva was there in the first place? Why bring her in for questioning instead of having Watchers follow her and wait to see what she would do?
Unless Damaal had something to hide, and had no intention of letting Eva and her crew leave if she wasn’t satisfied that her secrets were safe.
“He was kidnapped,” Eva said, choosing her words carefully. “We’ve been tracking him for some time, and found circumstantial evidence to suggest he might be here.”
Damaal continued to broadcast her sympathy and willingness to help toward Sue, whose hands hadn’t left her mouth, despite her eyes watering from the effort of containing herself.
“It would bring me great satisfaction to contribute as many resources as I might feasibly manage, to facilitate your success in this endeavor,” Damaal said. “If you would provide me with sufficient details to identify your lost brother, I would convey them to my Watchers and see that they were distributed to all Communal Centers for—”
“Thank you for the extremely generous offer,” Eva interrupted, wincing as this elicited the psychic equivalent of a frown from Damaal. Must have been impolite, but oh well. “We’re concerned that he might be in danger,” she continued, “so we’re trying to keep our search from becoming public knowledge.”
Damaal’s psychic tone returned to its prior buffeting of splendor and authority, with a sharp edge that Eva couldn’t place. “I am pleased to be able to offer some ease to your mind,” she said. “The diligence of our Watchers ensures there is no danger in Spectrum City, or Rilia, or indeed in all of Garilia. Our guests can be assured of complete safety.”
The hairs on Eva’s arms stood up, and she struggled to keep from showing her disdain on her face. The VI she’d been perusing earlier had suggested much the same thing, but any place that talked the house of shit about cops keeping everything safe was probably anything but. Then something occurred to her, and she smiled politely.
“That’s good to hear,” Eva said. “In that case, he can’t possibly be here, because if he were safe then he certainly would have contacted his beloved sister already. Qué lástima; we came such a long way.”
“I share your disappointment as if it were my own,” Damaal said, her tone laced with empathy. “I regret that I cannot offer you a more positive outcome, especially when you have done so much for Garilia.”
Eva shrugged, maintaining her wistful smile even though her stomach was full of nails. “It happens. We’ve had other false leads, so this isn’t a complete surprise.”
Damaal continued her slow walk, now that she apparently had enough information to satisfy her needs. She came to a stop in front of Min, who shrank slightly and wrapped her hands around the cat-shaped lump in her jacket.
“May I inquire as to what you will—” Damaal began, then paused, her tone gaining a surprisingly genuine spike of puzzlement. “What creature are you carrying there?” she asked, staring fixedly at Min, which was unnerving given the enormity of her eyes.
“It’s a cat,” Min stammered.
Mala emitted a low growl, and a wave of psychic aloofness that nearly made Eva laugh out loud.
“May I bear witness to the specimen?” Damaal said, stepping closer to Min, who retreated while still clutching Mala protectively. “The similar
ity to our Attuned is fascinating.”
“I don’t think she wants to come out,” Eva said. “But you can find plenty of holovids all over the q-net. Humans are pretty obsessed with them.”
Damaal’s tail twitched, but she turned away, her tone shifting to benevolence. “The Attuned are also creatures with minds of their own,” she said. “To that end, before you depart, perhaps I may offer you a sample of the great bounty of our planet, which we are preparing to share with the rest of the universe?”
She gestured, and another xana entered the room, silent but oozing deference. This new xana carried a translucent box of small capsules, each about the size of a baseball, which she held out for Damaal’s perusal. Damaal picked one up and held it out to Min, whose fear was overtaken by curiosity.
“Perhaps you have heard of these,” Damaal said. “Our brilliant scientists and engineers have worked tirelessly to re-create our Attuned in artificial form, with some modifications. We hope to shift the paradigm in virtual intelligence to promote synergy in a variety of industries, as well as increasing personal harmony among our users.”
“Is that a Pod Pal?” Sue asked, excited. She covered her mouth again and shot Eva an apologetic look. Eva was interested, too, but she wasn’t about to fangirl over them.
“That is one of the human terms, yes,” Damaal said, her tone gaining shades of pride and amusement. “Please, each of you, accept these as a token of our hospitality. Gromira, if you would?”
Gromira approached each of them, offering the box as if passing out treats. Sue took one immediately, but Pink shook her head politely.
“No, thanks,” Pink said, trying to maintain a civil tone. “I don’t really play with toys anymore.”
“They are far more than instruments of leisure,” Damaal said, a sharp edge to her psychic emanation. “They are companions, and partners, intended to fulfill every function of an Attuned with additional features that render them even more useful.”
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