Prime Deceptions

by Valerie Valdes

  “So even if there was nanotech, it would need bigger stuff to work with, and that stuff shouldn’t be able to shrink and grow?” Eva asked.

  Sue nodded, her attention drifting back to her lap. Eva wandered into her own thoughts as she paced the full length of the room, and her thoughts were shaped like a particular Proarkhe artifact that had once transformed in front of her, from a large rectangular object to a much, much larger humanoid robot. And Josh had been at that facility, working on something, for which Mari and her Forge friends now needed him . . .

  Eva didn’t like the picture she was forming with those available materials. Especially given that his trail had led them here, to the place where these Pod Pals had been invented. But no, the timeline made no sense. Lashra Damaal and the Sylfe Company had been shilling these things all over the universe before Josh ever made it out of the Fridge facility. Whatever Josh was up to, whatever had happened to him, couldn’t be related to these robot Attuned knockoffs.

  Probably. Maybe. Eva couldn’t shake the thought, but she tucked it away into the back of her mind because it wasn’t helping anything.

  “I need some fresh air,” she announced, heading for the door. “Anyone want to join me?”

  Min and Sue barely acknowledged the question, as distracted as they were. Pink and Vakar, meanwhile, shared a look as if they were playing a mental rock-paper-scissors to decide who was going to offer. Eva wasn’t sure whether it would be the winner or the loser, and she squinted at them with her lip curled into a half-snarl.

  “Are you sure you’re up to walking around?” Pink asked, crossing her legs. “That was a hell of a poison you got hit with, and there may be more of those things out there. Or other ones that can do worse.”

  You may be recognized again, was the warning, the threat she very carefully did not say out loud.

  Eva nodded. “Lo siento, pero I can’t stay in here if we’re going to have a chance of finding Josh.”

  “And you’re going to, what, start interrogating random strangers?” Pink asked, leaning forward to rest an elbow on her knee.

  “I’m going to keep gathering intel about the situation here,” Eva said. “This whole place reeks of rotten fish, and not just because we’re near the ocean.”

  Now Pink’s expression softened slightly. “You know you can’t fix this, right?”

  “Fix what?”

  “Garilia. What’s done is done.”

  Eva did know that. It was her fault the revolution, or coup, or whatever it should be called, had succeeded in the first place. And were things worse for it? Maybe, maybe not. She hadn’t seen much of Garilia when Tito brought her here, had only known about her mission and its parameters and what she had to do to make sure it succeeded. Afterward, she’d alternated between refusing to think about it entirely and bingeing research to learn more about the place, its people, its political situation—and, of course, searching for any mention of her name, any image that might show her, any scrap of a whisper of something to connect her to the awful thing she had done.

  That was how she knew she’d acquired names beyond the Hero of Garilia. It was rare that she’d turn up anything, because the new planetary government was thorough in its control and scrubbing of any unofficial versions of the events of that cycle. But every so often, she’d find a post on some random message board, an amateur q-net site with an eyewitness testimony, even a passing mention on a documentary holovid whose other topics were conspiracy theories in line with the extreme trash Leroy had always been obsessed with.

  But apart from her actions, there was the question of outcomes. Had she made life better for the people here? Some of them certainly believed that. Some of them didn’t. They were probably both right, and wrong, because nothing was that simple and clear-cut. So why did she care about finding out what Damaal was up to? Why did it matter to her, to know the situation on the ground, to see for herself the full trajectory of the shot she had fired almost nine years earlier? Especially when she had other shit to worry about?

  Échale tierra y dale pisón, she told herself. Don’t be such a metiche. Focus on finding Josh and getting him back to Mari.

  “It’s all for the mission,” Eva told Pink, who smirked skeptically. “Really. And now that we’re back in Big Brother territory, I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

  Vakar stepped forward, smelling like ozone, like the air before a heavy rain. “I will go with you. My superiors expect a report on our progress, and my findings so far are minimally useful to satisfy my established mission parameters.”

  That was its own shitty problem. If Vakar didn’t turn up something, his Wraith bosses would yank on his leash and he’d be gone. With everything else happening, Vakar leaving was the last thing Eva wanted. Sure, they’d spent plenty of time apart in the last six months, off and on, but right now, in the middle of Garilia . . .

  “We’ll find something,” Eva said, with more certainty than she felt.

  Pink stood as if weary and they exchanged their usual hand slaps, snaps, and hip-bump. “Stay safe,” she said. “I’ll keep these two from burning down the place.”

  Eva winced as claws sunk into her shoulder. “Seriously?” she asked Mala, who had once again settled across her neck as if she belonged there.

  “Miau.” Mala’s hazel eyes were half-lidded, and she purred as she sent out a wave of contentment.

  “Whatever. Probably need to shit somewhere at this point.” Eva sighed. After the way Mala had deescalated that situation with the Attuned, maybe having her along wasn’t such a bad idea. But hopefully, whatever she and Vakar found on this particular reconnaissance foray would be less dangerous.

  Shouldn’t have even thought that, Eva told herself. Now you’re definitely going to end up punching someone before the cycle is over.

  Chapter 14

  Curiosity Kills

  If the xana in the lobby was surprised to see Eva, he didn’t say anything, and his psychic emanations were as deferential and eager to please as they had been when she arrived. He tried to assure her that there were many excellent food options in the building when she asked, but she insisted right back that she wanted to take a walk outside, and eventually he directed her to a few potential restaurant equivalents nearby. She felt the barest sour twinge from him when she was far enough away that he probably didn’t think she would notice.

  Eva had a feeling there would be Watchers dogging her every step, and she wasn’t wrong. They weren’t especially subtle, so she assumed there were more of them she couldn’t see loitering elsewhere, or monitoring the surveillance devices stationed regularly throughout the streets.

  She thought of all the apparently sleeping people in Damaal’s office and her skin flashed hot and cold.

  Speaking of cold, the weather was almost absurdly pleasant to her human perceptions. Not too warm, not too chill, a light breeze drifting in from the nearby ocean that brought with it smells both salty and oddly sweet. The local star slowly sank into the water, turning the sky a brilliant shade of teal darkening to velvety blue, and leaving a coppery orange shimmer on the tip of every wave like tongues of flame. The surface was occasionally breached, whether by wildlife or tourists she couldn’t tell from so far away, and keening songs echoed softly over the broad swath of sand separating nature from civilization.

  Other tourists were enjoying the scenery as well, meandering from place to place with no apparent destination in mind, some of them with Pod Pals of their own. She and Vakar mimicked them, walking slowly, leisurely, as if they had nowhere to be, which wasn’t entirely untrue. But they were also both surveying their surroundings, assessing threat levels, all the little habits picked up from years of training and being thrown into the deep end of space to see if they could swim. He’d just been an engineer when she met him, and she’d been the captain of a small ship whose business was composed entirely of side hustles, but they both had secrets in their pasts that lurked below the surface like whatever was out there in the ocean.

  His
secrets, at least, were nobler. A Wraith was basically a glorified cop, but unlike the petty stungun-wielding assholes Eva was used to dealing with, Vakar had been using his skills and resources to harass The Fridge. He was a tool of the quennian government, yes, but over and over again he had proven that his ethics and loyalties were more complex than any simple tool. While he had been on her crew, he had followed orders as long as she never gave bad ones, and heaven knew she had tried to honor that. Now, he mostly did the same, but with a different set of bosses.

  Eva, for all her rebelliousness, for all her sarcasm and aversion to authority, had followed plenty of bad orders before she left her dad’s business behind. She’d always been good at justifying them to herself, at rationalizing, at ignoring the parts that now made her want to scream at her past self. She’d wanted to please people, to impress people: her father, Tito, her crewmates, even whomever she happened to be punching or shooting or screwing, as if life were one of Min’s games and she was trying to level up, look cool, feel powerful.

  Okay, she still wanted those things, but at least now she wasn’t an asshole about them.

  ((Find anything?)) Eva asked, giving Mala a brief neck scratch. She assumed Vakar was passively scanning local networks or the q-net for information even as he observed their surroundings.

  He smelled briefly of grass, maybe bashful at being called out? She wasn’t sure why; it didn’t bother her.

  ((Local graynet,)) he pinged back.

  ((Anything interesting?))

  ((Possibly,)) he replied. He reached for her hand and she let him take it, guiding her toward one of the side streets that branched off the main pedestrian corridor. They still moved slowly, casually, but Vakar was now following some internal map she couldn’t see. He doubled back a few times, had them pause to examine some building or other. Finally, he pulled her into an embrace behind a random tree—ignoring Mala’s chirp of protest—holding her quietly as if they were sharing a tender moment, smelling of licorice underneath the stronger aromas of anticipation. She half expected Watchers to pop up at any time to stop them, ask them what they were doing, but no one did.

  “The density of surveillance equipment has diminished in this area,” Vakar said. “I have created multiple feedback loops that should give us some time to move freely.”

  Eva kissed his face, relishing the moment even if it was meant as a distraction. “So what did you find?”

  “The graynet credentials have shifted more than once, leading me to believe that access is obtained through direct interaction.”

  “How do you interact directly with quantum?”

  “I mean that login capabilities are conveyed between individuals, in order to limit the ability of the authorities to locate and infiltrate them.”

  “Ah, gotcha.” She grinned up at him. “So where are we headed?”

  He touched his forehead to hers. “An event where locals will congregate, if I have understood the translations correctly.”

  Mala yawned and dug her claws into Eva’s clavicle, making Eva hiss in surprise and pain.

  “Knock it off,” Eva said, “or I’m leaving you here.”

  The claws retracted slightly, and Mala exuded calm that made Eva roll her eyes.

  Vakar led them toward the outskirts of the city, among small prefab buildings and smaller trees in which hammocks had been strung up. Lights hung in front of open doorways, the people inside clearly visible through the translucent walls, moving about their evening routines or resting or appearing to rest while engaging in stationary activities. But many buildings were empty, their interiors dark aside from the last sliver of a glow from the swiftly vanishing local star, their occupants perhaps not yet arrived from wherever they spent the daylight portion of their cycles, or off to do whatever they did at night.

  As it turned out, that was precisely where Vakar was taking them. At the end of a path whose surface suggested it was newly laid down, they reached a construction site, where preparations were under way for what would likely be another enormous skyscraper-tree. Eva wasn’t a building engineer, but given the depth and width of the pit being dug, whatever was going in would be huge, and various fabrication devices were neatly lined up next to barrels of the raw materials used to print out girders and trusses and whatnot. Some parts had already been put together and were stacked nearby, waiting for their turn to be assembled into whatever they were meant to be.

  And the whole place was teeming with xana. Many of them carried lights, artificial ones or their glowing creature-globes, gently illuminating the otherwise entirely dark site. A few seemed to be in charge, directing others on where to go, gradually forming small groups of a dozen or so spread out around the pit. Some had Attuned lingering near them, and some carried children in pouches attached to the fronts of their harnesses, or hugged them from behind, presumably to keep them from wandering off as children did. They were nearly silent, though murmurs passed between the groups and occasionally louder instructions were conveyed from one leader to another for some unknown purpose.

  Their psychic emanations were thick with anticipation, excitement, and some nervousness. They were waiting for something, that much was obvious. But what?

  “The surveillance equipment monitoring this site has been circumvented,” Vakar murmured in her ear. “It is broadcasting a false impression that the area is deserted.”

  “Is that so?” Eva’s eyes narrowed. “What is this supposed to be, anyway?”

  “I am not certain. The information on the graynet called it a Hatching, but also a Storm. I believe the translation is not precise.”

  While Vakar had led them closer slowly and cautiously, he had not taken pains to hide their presence. The xana noticed them but for a while no one bothered them, until finally someone approached, emanating politeness with a hostile edge.

  “You are tourists?” the xana asked.

  “Yes,” Eva replied. “Is it okay that we’re here, or should we leave?” She didn’t want to go, because this might be a chance to start digging for intel about Josh among locals, but she also didn’t want to piss anyone off or disrupt some important ceremony.

  Or, god forbid, be recognized again.

  “You may observe safely from a distance,” the xana replied cautiously. Her enormous eyes fixed on Mala, still draped over Eva’s neck and shoulders. “Is that creature Attuned to you?”

  “She’s Attuned to herself mostly,” Eva said, reaching up to scratch Mala’s chin. The cat purred.

  “She will not interfere unbidden?” the xana asked. “It would be unfortunate for her to injure herself in the Storm.”

  Eva shrugged. “She does what she wants. If she gets hurt, that’s her fault. But she doesn’t usually go running into trouble.” Usually. Aside from facing down a bunch of Attuned like it was nothing and almost getting poisoned.

  “May the Light embrace you then,” the xana said, and left without another word.

  “What’s a Storm, anyway?” Eva called after her. “Is it going to rain?” There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, but weather was its own wild force, different on every planet.

  “There may be moisture” was the reply, but nothing else.

  She turned to Vakar. “I don’t suppose you’ve dug up anything on the q-net about what to expect?”

  Vakar smelled like jasmine and roses and vanilla. Thoughtful, but with some anticipation. “I think this will be . . . interesting.” Even though he wouldn’t tell her more, he didn’t seem worried, so she settled in to wait.

  Eventually, there was movement at the bottom of the pit. Eva pulled up her isohelmet so she could use its distance-vision enhancement tech to get a closer look.

  Oblong objects like large eggs were spread around the ground, each several meters away from the other. There were maybe ten of them, ranging in color from a delicate pink to a pale yellow to a deep bluish-gray, almost silvery. The pink ones were the smallest, while the silvery one must have been at least two meters tall if Eva’s sensors were accurate. Ea
ch of them was moving, some more frequently or violently than others, and now it was clear why this was called a Hatching.

  But why a Storm?

  That became clear as soon as one of the eggs finally burst open, a yellow one. The creature inside, far from being a fragile chick or wobbly legged lizard, was fully formed and apparently aggressive. It was a quadruped, with sea-green skin or fur or scales—hard to tell from a distance—and a long, forked tail. Its ears resembled the fins of a fish, with a matching fin on the top of its head, and a pale ruff around its neck like a collar. Black eyes peered at the xana, who quickly surrounded it, and with a high-pitched cry it began to swing its tail around defensively.

  It was one of the Attuned. Except it wasn’t bonded to anyone yet, was it?

  The xana didn’t move, didn’t make a sound, not even the children. They stood in a loose circle around the creature, which continued to posture, lowering its head and raising its tail, then reversing that position, almost like it was making a wave with its body. It crouched low to the ground, staring down a xana who couldn’t have been more than a fist taller than it was, and Eva’s breath caught in her throat as she waited for the animal to pounce.

  Only it didn’t. Instead, the xana released a wave of concentrated psychic energy, all aimed directly at the creature. It was like what Mala did to calm Eva down, but on a whole other level, a pure emanation of empathy and understanding and acceptance. And beneath that, it was an invitation, an offer, a hand extended in friendship. There was nothing controlling about it, no sense of coercion or mandate, only a gentle coaxing, like when Min tried to get the cats to come over to her when she wanted to pet them.

  Nothing like what Damaal had leveled at them in her office, which had been about as gentle as a brick to the face.