Prime Deceptions

by Valerie Valdes

  “Until the Light touches all things,” the xana in the room responded, their psychic emanations reverent and proud.

  It was the pride that put Eva on edge. Sure, it was nice to feel good about your accomplishments, to get a boost of self-confidence to keep you striving. But pride could be flipped easily to overconfidence, condescension, and it was a quick leap from that to thinking you knew what was best for other people and trying to force them to agree. To taking away freedom for someone’s own good.

  Not that unrestricted freedom was the best plan, either. Or some mythical moderation. Foh, it was all one big arroz con mango. And here Eva was, picking sides again, adding salt to the pot when this wasn’t even her kitchen.

  Damaal had retreated, signaling the end of speechmaking and the return to revelry. Even Mala had settled back to her previously relaxed position, her fur once again soft, claws retracted. Eva scanned the room again, and this time she saw the faint green glow Sue had told her would mark her target. Pink must have found someone. Whoever it was, they were across the room on a slightly lower level, near a bar-like drink-dispenser setup if her memory was accurate.

  “I’m thirsty,” Eva told Vakar. “Come on, let’s scope out the synthesizer options.”

  If Vakar found the sudden request strange, he didn’t say anything, didn’t even smell suspicious. He’d probably noticed the mark as well; they hadn’t made him a Wraith for his good looks, cute as he was.

  In this case, his skills were better than hers when it came to navigating a crowd. Eva had always made not-so-subtle use of shoulders and elbows to get around people-shaped obstacles. Vakar, on the other hand, had a knack for finding spaces to slip through, for deftly and silently creating spaces where they didn’t exist, for shifting and flowing like he could see the currents of a room and was simply letting them propel him to where he wanted to be.

  He could be sneaky in his own way, even if the rest of the time he was almost painfully straightforward. Though this could probably be construed as another way of being goal-oriented, which Vakar absolutely was. She let that thought warm her in certain specific places before dragging her attention back to their task.

  Their mark didn’t shift in the time it took them to reach the area, thankfully. The green tag was affixed to the front of a sour-faced vroak wearing small, dark shades over his eyes, his frog-like features glistening from the glow of the nearby light fixtures. His skin was as white as an eggshell, and he had orange bristles sticking out on either side of his flared nostrils like a stiff mustache. According to the information Felsira had provided, his name was Ovikin Tob-Or and his preferred title was Dr.; apparently he would respond well to flattery, so Eva nudged Vakar toward the drink station, plastered on her biggest fake smile, and approached with what she hoped was a sufficiently awed posture.

  “Excuse me,” Eva said, “are you Dr. Tob-Or?”

  Dr. Tob-Or gave an affirmative grunt, eyeing her suspiciously. “Do I know you?” His voice came across as resonant, yet grating, like a bass note played on a kazoo.

  “No, but I’ve heard about your research for the Pod Pals and it sounds absolutely fascinating. I was hoping you’d be willing to discuss it with me in a bit more detail.” Eva rested a hand on her hip, conscious of how much she looked like she’d stepped out of a chandelier. Hopefully it wasn’t too offensive to the vroak’s senses.

  “How much detail?” Dr. Tob-Or asked. “What are you getting at?” Did he think she was trying to steal something? Not like he carried his designs on him.

  “It seems like such a huge project is all,” Eva said. “Where did you even start?”

  Dr. Tob-Or tossed back the contents of the large metal container he was holding and hummed thoughtfully. “Started with taxonomy. Did an extensive study of the Attuned, their habitats and physical structures and abilities. Reviewed the existing literature, observed them in nature, took samples as needed.”

  “Wow, that must have been a lot of work.” Eva accepted her own drink from Vakar, who smelled like jasmine with a hint of mint.

  “Exhausting, but I’ve never been afraid to push myself to the limits of my abilities.” Dr. Tob-Or swelled a bit, like he was getting warmed up. “The biggest difficulty was the transition from cybernetic enhancement of the existing species to full-replicated synthetic versions.”

  “Is that right?” Eva asked, trying not to let her distaste come through her voice. They’d started the experiments on live creatures? Dr. Lucien had mentioned as much, but she had thought the scope changed before it happened. Nasty. She reached up to scratch Mala’s neck, earning a gentle purr.

  Dr. Tob-Or shifted his drink container from one white-gloved hand to the other. “Yes, my designs were absolutely perfect, merging technology with biology in a seamless fashion that enhanced the natural abilities of the Attuned creatures.” His tone soured. “But public sentiment was not in favor of the process, so we had to make the shift. So much time and planning, utterly wasted.”

  Fucking good, Eva thought. Animals couldn’t consent to cybernetic enhancement, and this didn’t sound like anything remotely benevolent. Out loud she said, “That must have been frustrating for such a prominent scientist as yourself, to have so much work undermined.”

  “Deeply discouraging,” he agreed. “Politics are such nonsense. Give people what they need, not what they want.” He gestured vaguely at the rest of the roof. “I thought Lashra would be above placating lesser concerns, the way she and the rest of the government run things here. Extreme situations call for extreme solutions. They have control, but it should be tighter.”

  He squeezed his white-gloved hand for emphasis, and Eva nodded sagely while wishing one of his robots would set him on fire.

  Her commlink timer went off to alert her that the device had enough exposure to create its psychic imprint of this asshole. Gracias a dios, because she was about ready to accidentally throw her drink into his disgusting face. But she had one more thing to accomplish.

  “I’m so pleased I was able to meet you, Dr. Tob-Or,” Eva said, as sweetly as she could manage. Then she lowered her voice, in the hopes that the surveillance devices might not catch it among the rest of the chatter. “I was hoping to speak with Dr. Zafone as well, but I’ve always admired your work.”

  At the mention of Josh’s name, Dr. Tob-Or puffed up even more, but aggressively instead of with pride. “Zafone thinks he owns the laboratory. Always reworking everyone’s designs, saying they’re flawed, they could be better. Won’t even let us into his room. He’s hiding something, I tell you. Going to take credit for all our work in the end if we’re not careful.” He let out a belch; he was drunk off his ass, or whatever the vroak equivalent was, his pale skin even slicker with moisture than it had been when they started talking.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Eva said diplomatically. “I hope you get all the credit you deserve.” And she meant it, with the hard edge of a curse.

  Dr. Tob-Or’s attention shifted to Mala. “Nice specimen there,” he said. “Could I get a tissue sample?”

  Mala stared at him, her hazel eyes losing their color to pupil as she tensed, tail lashing.

  “I’m afraid she wouldn’t be entirely cooperative,” Eva said, scratching Mala’s head to reassure her.

  “Not a problem,” Dr. Tob-Or replied. “There are plenty of ways to subdue a reluctant subject.”

  As if sensing Eva’s rising desire for violence, Vakar managed to extricate her by pulling her backward into the crowd, Dr. Tob-Or’s exceedingly grumpy face disappearing behind a wall of people. Once they were safely away, Eva exhaled and shook herself, startling Mala into giving a brief yowl of displeasure.

  “What a comemierda,” she told Vakar. “I hope somebody steps on his junk.”

  Vakar wagged his head. “I presume you mean the colloquial meaning of the word.”

  “Claro que sí.” She sipped the drink he passed her, a distant cousin of mango juice. Nearby Watchers hadn’t moved from their posts, so either they hadn�
��t been bothered by Eva’s conversation, or they hadn’t heard it.

  Or Damaal was still monitoring Eva to see what she was up to.

  A scan of the rooftop showed that Pink already tagged their next target. A distant green dot lured them all the way back across the party, up to a higher tier with a view of the ocean that people on some planets paid inconceivable credits for. They found a kloshian, almost as short as Eva, with his hairlike tendrils flat on the top and flaring slightly sideways, his skin currently a delicate shade of bluish purple that blended well with the same slowly shifting color of the sky. He wore a long white coat over a jumpsuit that hung loosely on his frame, and he smiled at the small crowd of people surrounding him, baring his sharp teeth like a friendly shark in a sea of chum.

  He was like a slick version of Miles Erck, and Eva wanted to punch him immediately.

  “The challenge is to ensure the cross-compatibility of components,” he was saying as Eva and Vakar strolled up to his court of onlookers. His hands moved in broad, theatrical gestures as he spoke. “You see, many of the Attuned have similar abilities despite different anatomies, and so to yield efficiencies in production, it made sense to have the methods by which the abilities were reproduced be modular.”

  “But my version is older,” one of the women in front of him whined. “I was promised an upgrade since the new models are so much more advanced.”

  The kloshian’s smile faltered. “I’m sure someone as lovely as yourself will be properly tended to,” he said, waving a hand in her direction and offering her a flirty head shake. “And I wouldn’t say the new models are wildly different from the originals. When I was approached to work on the project, the scope was unsustainably broad, but I was able to delicately reshape the team’s vision to something much more practical while retaining the elegance of the creatures themselves.”

  That felt like an in for Eva, so she took it. “You’re Dr. Lywin?” she asked, her tone much more coy than it had been with Tob-Or. This one didn’t want flattery, he wanted a challenge. “Your reputation precedes you.”

  His eyes shifted color, from a pale green to a deep teal. “Only the good portions, I hope.” His gaze dropped to Mala, and his smile broadened. “That isn’t one of the Attuned, is it?”

  “I’m afraid not,” Eva replied. “This is a cat. Terran in origin.” She stroked Mala gently, watching Dr. Lywin’s expression as she did. It reminded her of Sue’s, like he was mentally dissecting Mala and figuring out how to reconstruct her in his own way. It was creepier when he did it, for some reason.

  “Charming,” Dr. Lywin said. “May I say, your facial scar is fascinating. How did you come by it?”

  Eva thought of fire, the swipe of an Attuned’s claws, and swallowed acid. “I’m sure any story you might come up with would be more interesting than what really happened.”

  “Would it be?”

  Did he know who she was? No chance. For all that Eva was supposedly Damaal’s honored guest at this event, she’d done nothing whatsoever to call attention to Eva. This guy was fishing for his own amusement. But more importantly, she needed to get him to talk, or the psychic-imprint device wouldn’t do its thing.

  “You do seem to have a particularly well-developed imagination,” Eva said. “I suppose it takes some mental flexibility to figure out the complexities of a living creature and remake them so convincingly.” Me cago en diez, I sound like Mari, Eva thought. Or some rich girl making nice. Either way, it felt icky, but the fawning crowd around him was enjoying it well enough.

  “Indeed, attention to detail is essential,” Dr. Lywin said. “Any engineer with a rudimentary education can cobble together a robot, but the challenge is in verisimilitude.” He produced a capsule from the pocket of his coat with a flourish, opening it and releasing the Pod Pal inside with equal pomp. It was one of the turtle-looking types, its leathery skin impressively similar to the real Attuned Eva had seen before with Watcher Rakyra.

  Mala went rigid around Eva’s neck again. She really did hate those things. Probably because of the psychic tech.

  “Observe this masterpiece,” Dr. Lywin said. “One might mistake it for its organic counterpart, but this version has an array of additional features that make it vastly more useful. And more importantly, as the Prime was discussing, I’ve managed to take the additional step of creating what I call Technical Manifesters.”

  “What are those?” someone asked.

  Dr. Lywin’s eyes shifted to a lighter shade of green, his hair tendrils waving slightly. “They allow our robots to be upgraded with abilities from entirely different models, regardless of the intrinsic biologies of the original Attuned.”

  Okay, yes, that was impressive. Eva maintained her aloof demeanor, sensing that the good doctor was gauging her reaction. Mala was still bristling, but her posture was equally controlled.

  “So you could keep upgrading one of those to do everything the other models can do?” Eva asked. “Why bother buying multiple ones when just one of them can have every ability?”

  “There are limitations,” Dr. Lywin said, his color’s brightness fading a touch. “Only six upgrades per unit at the present time.”

  Smart business plan, or he hadn’t figured out a workaround yet, Eva thought. His reaction suggested the latter.

  “But consider,” he continued, as if sensing his audience was losing interest. “The modularity of the Technical Manifesters is unprecedented. It renders the applications of the robots into near infinity. If you no longer wish for your model to, say, produce defensive stunning spores, you can remove that ability and replace it with something else entirely. Full customization!”

  Why was he bothering to shill this stuff to people who were already sunk eyeball-deep into partial ownership of it? Maybe the funding was more tenuous than Damaal had let on. She was at the top of a government that had recently taken control over a whole planet, was apparently rolling out all kinds of new stuff, had laid down a surveillance grid as complex and widespread as nerves in her own body . . . How was it all being paid for? Garilia was self-sustaining, more or less, but once it had gained provisional status with BOFA, that opened up a universe of stuff that the xana apparently wanted more than isolation and tranquility.

  The universe, aside from a few pockets, ran on credits, not kindness.

  Dr. Lywin was a born salesman, Eva had to admit. She’d seen her own father play this game often enough to know when someone had the knack for it. Presumably that was why Lywin had been rolled out to chat with the guests, instead of being locked up in the lab with the Miles Erck brand of asswipe.

  And thankfully, the alarm on her commlink sounded, so Eva didn’t have to keep listening to his pitch anymore. Now she just had to find the last target and the psychic imprints would be complete. The resistance could break into the labs, do their thing, and Eva could hopefully finish her mission as well.

  Except she was barely closer to finding Josh than she had been before. All she had was the hope that he was in the lab, too, and that she’d be able to drag his ass out without damaging it. Because based on what Dr. Tob-Or had said, she didn’t think he would be leaving voluntarily unless Sue did a really, really good job of convincing him it was important.

  “Were you also responsible for the introduction of the evolutionary capabilities, and the storage containers?” someone asked. Vakar, though he’d done a good job of masking where the question had come from, since Dr. Lywin seemed to be searching the crowd for its source. He didn’t look pleased.

  “That was one of my colleagues,” Dr. Lywin said. “I was integrally involved, of course.”

  “Dr. Zafone?” Eva asked quietly.

  “Indeed.” His smile vanished altogether.

  “He’s not here, is he?” Eva asked. “I’ve heard he’s somewhat elusive.” She hadn’t, but it sounded like something one might hear.

  Before Dr. Lywin could answer, his color shifted entirely to a pale purple as he stared at someone behind her. Around her neck, Mala once ag
ain tensed, her fur spiking.

  “The esteemed Dr. Zafone could not be present for this Light-touched event, but his spirit is strong with us,” a voice said, their psychic tone resonant with authority. Lashra Damaal, flanked by Watcher Rakyra and another cop, all of them looking down at Eva with those expressionless dark eyes. The Firespeaker bot had also been released from its capsule and was standing attentively next to them, and Eva was exceedingly aware that it had a flamethrower in its mouth, while also hoping it couldn’t possibly be used with so many other people around.

  “Would you please come with us for a moment, honored guest,” Watcher Rakyra said. It was not a question.

  Chapter 19

  Unbalanced

  While Eva expected to be marched off to some back room for interrogation or similar, instead she and Vakar were escorted to another portion of the rooftop, near the elevator landing. Fewer guests lingered in the area, which was decorated with miniature versions of the vast home-trees, their roots wound around and through containers that were presumably designed to keep them fed. It was unnerving to see them so small, shrunken, their canopies trimmed back and decorated with lights that mimicked the buildings normally constructed among their branches. It felt like an expression of control, like even the home-trees would fit in the palm of Damaal’s hand if she willed it to be so.

  “What can I do for you, Prime?” Eva asked politely. “Nice party, by the way.”

  “Many thanks for your kind observation,” Damaal said, her pale fur gleaming in the dim light. “I am pleased to hear you have been enjoying the festivities. Your keen interest in our revolutionary technology has also brightened my spirit.”

  Of course she’d been spying on Eva the whole time. The place was crawling with Watchers and their Attuned, or Pod Pals, or both.

  “I also wished to discuss your unrestricted Attuned interaction at the Communal Center in Rilia,” Damaal said. Her tail rested on her shoulder, unmoving, and her psychic tone didn’t modulate in the slightest. “Watcher Rakyra, you were able to locate the responsible party?”