“Yes, Prime,” Watcher Rakyra said, his psychic emanation deferential. “She is being properly educated on the necessity of controlling her Attuned, as well as being reminded of her rights and privileges and all behavioral requirements to ensure they are not revoked. Her associates have also been recovered and are undergoing the same regimen.”
Mala gave a low growl and Eva rubbed her ear to calm her. Or maybe to calm herself.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Eva said. “It was an accident.”
“Accidents can have the most dangerous consequences,” Damaal said. “Have you not had similar experiences in the past?”
Eva had no response to that. Was Damaal messing with her? Was she referencing something specific? The Pod Pal in the recycler, maybe? What did she know, exactly?
Mala’s growling intensified. Eva glanced down at the cat, whose black-pupiled eyes were glaring at the Firespeaker robot next to Damaal. Was it doing something Eva couldn’t see?
“Your creature there is displeased,” Damaal said. “Does she require sustenance, or perhaps exercise?” She stared at Mala, who hissed back at her, and for a moment Damaal’s psychic emanations slid sideways like a window being cracked open—no, it was like when Mala would knock a cup off the table in the mess, to see what would happen. Whatever she was doing, Eva couldn’t get a sense of its content so much as its direction: it was pointed right at Mala.
Mala yowled, and for a moment Eva thought she was scared, but then the waves of anger came boiling off her like she was a pot of rice on a hot stove.
Next to Damaal, Watcher Rakyra flinched and took a step forward. “Control your Attuned, Gap-maker,” he said, his own psychic tone hard-edged with restrained aggression. Surprising given how carefully controlled he’d been until now.
Or maybe not so surprising. He was a cop, after all, in a city where they ran around disappearing folks for education. Maybe the surprising thing was how long it had taken for him to show his claws.
Eva stroked Mala’s head and tried to think soothing thoughts at her. Vakar stood quietly behind them, his posture shifting into a stance she knew for a defensive one, from the many times they’d sparred. They couldn’t cause more of an incident here than they already had, or he might be in enormous trouble.
But they still hadn’t gotten the third psychic imprint, and she was no closer to knowing where Josh was, except that he was definitely still here and working on the robots. If she didn’t bring the fully loaded device to the resistance, she’d have to keep fumbling around trying to find her own way in, and that meant more opportunities for creating problems.
((Robot activating,)) Vakar pinged her suddenly.
The Firespeaker hadn’t moved, but as Eva examined it out of the corner of her eye, the smallest psychic nudge touched her mind—not like it was trying to get her attention, more like a pickpocket who’d either fumbled the grab or was redirecting attention as a distraction.
Either way, Eva was sick of this shit, failed mission or not. They were literally up on a roof and it was a hell of a long way down.
“How is your parent, Captain?” Damaal asked suddenly. “I hope she is also finding our city to be a pleasant and diverting environment.”
Eva froze. Me cago en diez, she thought. Had she put her mom in danger now, after everything, after the Fridge arroz con mango and even the earlier years with her dad—was this when it would catch up, finally, and really fuck her innocent family over?
She’s with BOFA, fool, the voice in her head said. Damaal has probably been tracking her since she got to the planet, even if they couldn’t put her under direct surveillance. She can’t risk doing anything to the auditor working on the planet’s case. Hell, for all Eva knew, her mom had been doing some kind of auditing mierda when they were out shopping, and that’s why she kept zoning out in random corners of stores.
“My mother is fine,” Eva said. “She had a great time choosing this outfit for me, in fact. Why do you ask?” Mala was still bristling on her shoulders, and Eva realized she was angry, too, and totally failing to hide it.
“We are simply eager to ensure that her review is positive,” Damaal replied smoothly, her psychic emanations once again firmly controlled. “She is doing work that is vital for the ongoing progress of our planet and its people, and any delay or defect would be to our detriment.”
“Yeah, well, she’s good at her job,” Eva said. “And she’s not a liar, so don’t waste your time with bribes.” Cállate, comemierda, her inner voice said, but she was past listening.
“I have heard of the practice of bribery,” Damaal said, a ripple of disdain in her psychic tone. “It is not one that is typical for any of the cultures on our planet, though I have been told our practice of Light-gifts bears some similarities.”
“Yeah, funny how most people have something similar,” Eva retorted. “And they all seem to think it doesn’t count.”
Vakar laid a hand on the small of her back and she leaned forward, away from it. He wasn’t going to calm her down, and even though she knew he was right, she wasn’t here for it.
Damaal’s psychic emanations receded, but her eyes bored into Eva’s. “I must apologize, but I am needed elsewhere. It seems a resistance group has been located nearby, with weapons, and we fear they may be plotting some disturbance at this event.”
That made no sense. The resistance had sent Eva in to get the psychic imprints; there was no reason for them to also start shit, especially when it might jeopardize that plan. Unless . . .
Mierda, mojón y porquería. They must have found Pink and the others. Because of security being so tight, Eva and Pink had agreed on absolute comms silence, no matter what, so it wasn’t as if either of them could alert the other of whatever might be happening.
But if the Watchers had found Pink, why was Damaal bothering to let Eva keep wandering around instead of dragging her off to be “educated”? Was it because of her mom? Eva’s neck felt hot, and she wondered whether she had once again stepped into a puddle that turned out to be a pit. Had Damaal known about Regina and left Eva alone because she thought Eva was working for BOFA, too?
Damaal shifted away. “Be cautious, Captain. The travel lines may be impacted by our Watchers attempting to apprehend the resistance members. And unfortunately, the rebels have a habit of engaging in their own disruptive behaviors, despite our efforts to educate them in their rights and privileges.”
“Thanks for the warning,” Eva said, her throat dry. She had to get out of there in a hurry. She’d only gotten two out of the three imprints the resistance needed to get into the lab, but Pink was more important.
“I hope we will meet again at the Tournament,” Damaal said, beginning to leave. “May the Light embrace you—” And she called Eva something her translators glitched on for several long moments as Eva tried to figure out how she was going to find Pink.
“Fallbreaker.” Damaal’s tone hadn’t changed, but her translators suggested the word was charged. A Fallbreaker was someone who saved lives with their own body, which was brave and commendable, but also someone who sacrificed themselves in some foolish way. Falling in the first place was a failure, probably a deadly one, totally unacceptable. It wasn’t a compliment.
The scar on Eva’s face pulled tight as she smiled bitterly. Yeah, that sounded about right. And she was about to do it all over again.
As soon as Eva and Vakar were over open water, halfway back to Spectrum City, she pinged Pink. She wanted to do it sooner, to warn her, but Damaal’s cute little parting note had felt like a test, a trap. After enough time, with enough distance, Eva hoped it would seem innocuous. Normal. “Standard captain procedure” instead of “worried about my best friend who might be dead or arrested.”
No response.
They made it back to the house, and Eva managed to ping Pink only twice more on the way, admiring her own restraint—even if it wasn’t all that restrained. It was better than pinging her until she responded, which is what Eva actually w
anted to do.
When did you get so worried? Eva thought. This isn’t the first time either of you has been in a similar situation. It will be fine.
It didn’t feel fine. It felt like her insides were trying to climb out of her throat, like her skin was on fire, like she couldn’t get enough air. Pink probably would have called it a panic attack, told her to breathe and find something else to focus on.
But Pink wasn’t there. Pink was missing, and it was Eva’s fault for dragging them to Garilia in the first place, for coming up with the asinine scheme to have Pink tag those scientists at the party. She should have figured out another way to find Josh, instead of agreeing to help the resistance.
She should have left Garilia in the past where it belonged.
Vakar tried to comfort her, but he smelled as worried as she felt. Even Mala couldn’t penetrate the layers of guilt and fear and worry Eva was putting up around herself like energy shields. The only thing that finally knocked Eva out of her own head was Sue, who all but tackled Eva as soon as they walked through the door.
“I found the power source!” Sue squealed.
Eva stared at Sue blankly.
“Of the Pod Pals,” Min said. She was already petting Mala, who had abandoned Eva for scratches.
“Look, look!” Sue grabbed Eva’s hand and towed her over to the table, where the parts of the robot were arranged in neat piles, except for the largest remaining component.
In the center of the table sat a metallic lattice, almost like a small Dyson sphere. In the center of that, hovering in a stasis field, was a purplish-pink cube of energy.
“Me cago en la hora que yo nací,” Eva said.
“That’s what I said!” Sue exclaimed. “I mean, I didn’t really say that, I don’t say that, but—”
“I know, I know.” Eva crouched slightly to peer directly at the mechanism in all its glory.
It was definitely Proarkhe, or whatever the Fridge equivalent was. It was the same kind of energy cube Eva and Vakar had found on the planet where they’d also encountered a Proarkhe artifact, which had later turned into a giant robot before vanishing. It was the same thing that had powered the Fridge’s strange portable Gate guns, one of which was inoperable, both of which were hidden.
And here it was, the beating heart of a robot that looked like an animal. A robot that could change its form and shrink to fit into an impossibly small capsule.
“This is exceptionally illegal,” Vakar said.
“Only by BOFA standards,” Eva replied. “Which Damaal has to know because she’s eyeball-deep in a compliance audit right now.” And my mom is part of that, Eva thought. Qué relajo. At least none of the noise had woken Regina up, assuming she was sleeping at all instead of working or eavesdropping.
“How are they able to maintain secrecy about this?” Vakar asked, smelling like vinegar and rosemary. Incredulous. He could be adorably naïve sometimes.
Sue perked up. “Oh, I know! My family has to deal with this stuff all the time when we’re making new ships or parts.”
Eva pinged Pink again. Should she set up an auto-ping? No, that would be ridiculous. She dragged her attention back to Sue.
“When you submit plans to the regulators, they look like this,” Sue continued, bringing up a schematic with her commlink and projecting it so everyone could see. It was an engine for a medium-sized craft, and Sue rotated it and fiddled with it so that it seemed to explode outward, all its individual parts visible and labeled and able to be independently examined.
But a few areas were static, opaque. They could be moved to show things around them, but they themselves were like gaps or missing data, lost pieces of a puzzle that had otherwise been fully assembled.
“Those bits are proprietary,” Sue said, pointing at the gray areas. “BOFA allows certain parts of a plan to be kept secret. You know, for competition and stuff. If everything were all out there, it might get stolen and copied, and that wouldn’t be fair.”
Eva squinted at the floating image. “But someone has to know about it. Things break, they need to be repaired . . .” She herself had fixed enough ship components to have a decent working knowledge of a variety of schematics, and she’d never run into this before.
Sue nodded. “There are statutes of limitations. After a certain amount of time, things go public, usually because they’ve been reverse-engineered and there’s no sense keeping it secret anymore.”
“But then at some point, someone is going to figure this out,” Eva said. “You can’t be the only person dismantling these things to see what makes them tick.”
Vakar smelled like jasmine. “It is also likely that someone may unintentionally damage a unit by, for example, inserting it into a waste recycler.”
Eva scowled at him and rolled her eyes.
“I think I might be the only one who could do it right,” Sue said, her gaze falling on the glowing cube at the center of the table. “I know how Josh works, how he programs, how he builds. There were a bunch of fail-safes that were supposed to shut down the power matrix way before I got to it. I bypassed them, along with a lot of other cute little software gremlins, but anyone else would probably end up with an empty core and a lot of teeny tiny parts they couldn’t reassemble.”
Eva stared at the glowing cube, remembering how she’d fed a similar one to a giant lizard creature, remembering the violent chain reaction she’d caused by blowing the thing up in a room full of other cubes of varying sizes. Would the next Pod Pal upgrade add more fail-safes in case, as Vakar said, someone else stuffed one in a recycler? Damaal and her Sylfe Company investors couldn’t afford to have some kid in Casa Carajo find out the hard way that their cute little robot friend was powered by a volatile unknown energy source.
Biting her lip, Eva pinged Pink. Still no answer. The gnawing chasm in her stomach was growing, and she’d already fallen in, was tumbling deeper with every passing moment. Should she be getting her crew to the ship? Trying to escape from Garilia before Damaal cracked down and hauled them all away? Would she even be able to get off-planet at this point, or was it too late?
Never should have taken this job. No money was worth this. Should have kept chasing The Fridge, playing the mosquito to their elephant—or better, picking up legal work where she could and letting Pink practice telemedicine peacefully while Sue and Min played with their respective toys.
“Now what?” Min asked, petting Mala on the floor.
“Indeed,” Vakar said. “Possessing the knowledge that the Sylfe Company is engaged in illegal activities is potentially useful leverage, however it suggests that we will be less likely to succeed in our mission.”
“But now we know Josh is definitely here!” Sue exclaimed. “He’s the only one who could have built this, I’m sure of it.”
“We confirmed that at the party,” Eva said. “I spoke to two different scientists working with him on this project.”
Sue’s excitement vanished along with her smile as she followed the thought-paths Eva had known she would. “But if he’s okay, and here, and working on these, then why didn’t he ever tell us?”
“He was probably protecting you,” Eva said, unable to keep the sarcastic edge off her tone.
“We never stopped paying his ransom,” Sue said, her eyes watery. “My poor parents. They think he’s locked in a box somewhere, but he’s here in a lab, working on these things.” She gestured at the pile of parts on the table, which one of her robots was continuing to tidy up as she spoke.
“Trust me,” Eva said, “I know how it feels. My sister pulled the same shit on me, and look what happened.”
Vakar smelled like ozone with a nasty fart undertone. “If he is here voluntarily, he will potentially be less inclined to leave with us.”
“And then we don’t get paid,” Eva said. “Not that money was our primary motivator.”
“At least he’s okay,” Sue murmured.
“We don’t know that for sure,” Eva said. “It’s safe to assume he was going afte
r Damaal when he was hopping all over the universe six months ago, given the evidence we now have, but that doesn’t mean she hasn’t locked him up and twisted his arm to work on her project.”
It hadn’t sounded that way when the resistance members were describing his involvement, or when his fellow Pod Pal designers were talking about him, but she hated to see Sue so depressed about her brother probably being an asshole. Let the girl have a little hope.
Eva could use some of that herself. She pinged Pink again, and once again there was no reply.
The door at the end of the hall opened, and for a brief moment Eva’s stomach shot into her throat. Her mother was awake, apparently. Eva flopped onto the couch and covered her face with one hand, trying not to cry, because what would that accomplish? And Pink could be totally fine—was fine, had to be fine, madre de dios, por favor.
“You’re back,” Regina said. Her tone was so sour, Eva looked up at her, blinking away the bleariness forming in her eyes.
“Where else would I be?” Eva asked, then winced at her own rising anger. That hadn’t taken much.
“Bueno, what do I know about where you go?” Regina hovered through the room, avoiding eye contact with everyone. She went to the kitchen, got a drink, then went back toward her bedroom without another word.
Something was wrong. Coño carajo. Maybe it was work-related? But no, then her mom would have unloaded about it; she loved to complain, at length and in detail. She might be upset if she couldn’t because of confidentiality, but that had never stopped her from at least getting salty in as vague a way as she could manage.
Here was a new thing to worry about, but unlike the situation with Pink, Eva could do something about this. She trailed after Regina, despite being half-inclined to let it burn out on its own.
“Qué pasó?” Eva asked, leaning against the doorframe. The room itself had a bed, a colorful wooden dresser, and a desk whose chair had been scooted into a corner. There was also a miniature comms tower complete with an expensive scrambler unit and privacy shield, which explained why her mother was having no trouble accessing the q-net or receiving calls and wasn’t worried about any eavesdropping.
Prime Deceptions Page 30