“They’re beautiful,” Eva said, and her stomach felt like she’d swallowed rocks. She’d come to this place before to do violence, and had done it to a greater extent than even she had ever dreamed, so of course she’d come back expecting to end up in a fight. She’d believed the worst of this poor xana, for no other reason than he was operating outside official channels—and what the hell had she been doing for years, if not that? She should know better than most that when official channels were restrictive, you went around them. When bureaucracies put up a wall of red tape, you quietly lifted it out of the way and snuck underneath.
Otherwise, all you could do was sit around waiting for other people to decide your life for you. Stand in line. Follow orders. Jump to the instructed height, shoot the target, achieve the mission objectives.
That was no way to live, and these people knew it, too.
“Perhaps you might be interested in these,” Krachi said, gesturing slightly at a row of antigrav harnesses decorated in the same kinds of overlapping colors as the figurines. That actually would be pretty useful, depending on how long they stayed in the area, and naturally Eva could think of a few other uses . . . She glanced sideways at Vakar to see what he was up to.
His palps were twitching, and his inner eyelids were closed, which meant he was deep in thought and trying to concentrate on something. Eva’s brow furrowed but she didn’t interrupt him. Probably still trying to deal with the local networks.
((Information?)) Pink pinged at Eva, whose pensive frown deepened.
Her plan had assumed that she’d have some leverage, partly from being underestimated by their guide. As far as he knew, they were simple tourists, and had he threatened them he would have had a rude surprise. But now?
Well, she could just ask him about Josh, but was that really the wisest option? No, she still had to be careful about this. Trust no one. This was a planet of psychics, for fuck’s sake. Just because Krachi wasn’t the hardened-criminal type she’d been expecting didn’t mean he was a saint.
Unfortunately, before she could so much as formulate how to broach the subject, the xana who was operating a small fruit stand began to radiate hostility. Eva tensed, subtly inspecting the area to figure out what had the woman so riled up.
“I know you,” the xana said. Still that calm, neutral inflection, the expressionless black eyes, but waves of psychic rage and sorrow boiled off her. “Prime-killer. Bond-breaker. Extinguisher of Light.”
She was staring directly at Eva.
The other xana were unable to contain their surprise, though Krachi valiantly attempted to do so. A quiet conference began among them, wherein they attempted to determine whether the angry one was right, as Krachi clutched his tail so tightly its fur stood up around his hand.
“She burned my branch!” the xana exclaimed, her voice still even but her psychic tone as hot as napalm.
((Shit,)) Eva pinged at Pink.
((Double shit,)) Pink pinged back.
This was Eva’s worst nightmare, coming back here. To be recognized. To be remembered. Eva didn’t want to start anything, and with innocent people no less. She raised her hands in the universal biped gesture of submission and took a step back.
“We don’t want any trouble,” Eva said. “We’re here to—”
“I do not care,” the xana said. From behind her table, her Attuned emerged, a plantlike creature that waddled around on two stubby legs, long leaflike parts sticking up out of its round body like hair. It shook like it was cold, and a cloud of spores drifted out of its leaves.
Eva immediately activated her isohelmet, but enough spores had already been carried by the wind right into her nose, and she sneezed violently. Her suit’s filters kicked in, scrubbing the air inside, but she’d already inhaled a bunch of it. She turned to Pink, who was also now bubbled, as was the rest of her crew. Hopefully none of them had been hit.
The question was, what would the spores do to her? And would Pink be able to stop it? Okay, that was two questions, and unfortunately the first one was answered quickly as a jolt of pain shot through her entire body, from feet to fingertip. Her stomach wrenched and she fell to her knees, trying not to vomit.
“Eva!” Pink exclaimed. Within moments she was at Eva’s side, and then Vakar was there as well, but Eva struggled to follow what they were doing because she felt like she was having the worst combination of hangover and stomach flu that had ever been suffered by a human.
More Attuned arrived, circling Eva and the rest of her crew, who were now more or less huddled together defensively. A small rat-looking one, a pair of flying creatures, a large green bug-like one with vicious curved arms . . . Here was the threat of violence Eva had been prepared for, but not for the reason she had expected.
This was her fault. Someone had recognized her, someone who had every right to hate her for what she had done. Had Eva killed one of her friends? Her family? One of her children? It was fitting that Eva should be racked with pain and gut-roiling sickness, because she felt almost the same way without being poisoned.
She deserved every moment of this, she knew. But her crew didn’t. She needed to get them to safety somehow, before things escalated further.
Except Eva had no idea how she could possibly do that in her present condition.
She struggled to her feet, despite Pink and Vakar protesting beside her, breath coming in fiery gasps as her vision blurred. But as she was preparing to activate her sonic knuckles, something astonishing happened.
“Miau.” Mala strolled up to the nearest Attuned and started to purr.
Chapter 12
Te Conozco, Mascarita
Eva blinked at Mala in confusion as the tiny calico cat squared off against hostile creatures, some more than triple her size. The Attuned seemed just as put off, because they paused their advances and appeared to be mutely conferring with their xana, occasionally vocalizing in their own individual ways. The silent standoff continued for several long moments as no one moved a muscle—not wanting to be responsible for the fallout, perhaps.
And then, because why the fuck not, Mala sat down and proceeded to lick her own butthole vigorously.
Alabao, Eva thought. I knew bringing her was a bad idea. The last thing I need is a casual-ass petty anarchist with delusions of superiority bringing her psychic comemierdería out to play.
And yet, for some reason, it worked. The Attuned backed away, and the xana continued to emanate psychic hostility but with an undercurrent of wariness and dismay. Even Krachi had stopped guarding himself so carefully and was nearly trembling with nerves, along with healthy doses of fear and shame.
Eva knew those feelings well. This had all been a mistake. If nothing else, she should have stayed on the ship and let the others handle this, to avoid this exact issue. She had put everyone in danger, when she was the only one who had done anything wrong in the first place.
“What is your companion?” one of the xana asked, their tone cautious. “It is a . . . Miau?”
Eva could hardly breathe without pain, but thankfully Pink stepped in.
“She’s a cat,” Pink said, lips curled in disdain. “And she’s not going to do any damn-fool nonsense, isn’t that right, Mala?”
“Miau,” Mala said.
“Why do you call her ‘cat’ when she says Miau?” another xana asked.
Pink didn’t have a response to that, so she stared blankly at the xana.
“In my language, it’s 고양이,” Min said. “And she says 야옹.”
The xana murmured things to themselves that Eva couldn’t hear. The one who had recognized her said, “It is not to be borne!” at a volume that might as well have been a shout for the way her psychic rage and sorrow magnified it.
“Are you okay?” Pink asked Eva quietly.
Eva shook her head, her neck cramping from the minute motion as another wave of nausea and pain wrenched her body. Her muscles were weakening, her vision going spotty. Everything tasted like sour milk. Was she going to die?
>
“We need to get you in there for treatment,” Pink said, pointing her chin at the Communal Center. “But we have to be chill so we don’t start shit and get hit.”
Mala had stopped licking her butt and moved on to her paws. Eva wondered whether she would accidentally eat some of the Attuned spores, and decided that was Mala’s problem, la muy cabrona.
“Watchers are approaching,” someone said, and what had been all tense anger directed at Eva was now a flurry of activity as the xana dismantled their displays, packing up their wares so quickly and efficiently that Eva had no doubt they’d done so before. Each table folded into a compact container with straps that easily attached to the xana harnesses, and in what felt like no time at all to Eva’s pain-riddled senses, everyone but Krachi had vanished, either into the Communal Center or somewhere else in the home-tree.
((Move,)) Eva pinged the whole crew, unable to speak. Pink and Vakar each slid an arm under her and half walked, half carried her toward the entrance to the building. The xana standing in line for food said nothing, but needles of psychic curiosity and disdain stabbed right into Eva’s skull as she struggled to move her aching feet. One step at a time, through the front of the building, past more xana and Attuned. The dim light of the local star was supplemented by long transparent tubes in which luminescent creatures meandered or slept or peered at her with glowing yellow eyes. Eva blinked—
—and found herself floating in an antigrav field. A machine nearby emitted a soft tone, answered by a large pink Attuned that sounded like it said “penis,” which Eva assumed was her own mind playing tricks on her.
“She is regaining consciousness, Dr. Jones,” an unfamiliar voice said—xana, she was pretty sure. “Captain Innocente, it is my duty to request that you remain unmoving until you are invited to determine the condition of your limbs through carefully monitored diagnostic protocols.”
Eva swallowed, her throat weirdly moist. While her vision was slowly resolving, it didn’t make any sense for a few moments; everything was moving, colorful wall becoming ceiling becoming floor, until finally she realized she was slowly rotating like a pig on a spit.
Pink’s face swam into focus next to Eva. “Hey, you,” Pink said softly. “That was a nasty poison, but you’re going to be fine, hear?”
Coño, it must have been bad if Pink was being so nice. The last time Eva almost died, Pink had yelled at her to stop making foolish life choices, then sedated her, giving her the middle finger until Eva fell asleep.
Either that, or the overall quiet of the xana was encouraging Pink to tone it down as well. Eva couldn’t hear much beyond the distant, muted sounds of Attuned and the gentle footfalls of whoever was walking around and above her. The air smelled like green, like the concept of fresh air her father would pump into used spaceships to make them seem clean and new and appealing.
((Talk okay?)) Eva pinged Pink.
Pink nodded, but pinged back, ((Watchers outside.))
Mierda, mojón y porquería. This kept getting better.
“Everyone else is fine?” Eva asked, trying not to move her head even though the constant slow rotation meant she kept talking to random parts of the room.
“Yeah, even that cat,” Pink said disdainfully. “I don’t know what she was thinking.”
“She’s always been a cabezona,” Eva said. Where was Vakar?
As if he heard her question, mint and incense smells drifted into the room. She couldn’t move to look at him, and he stayed frustratingly outside her field of vision, but it was nice that he’d turned off his scent suppressors for the moment. For her, because certainly he had no other reason to do it.
“I told you she was fine,” Pink said, straightening up and turning away so Eva couldn’t see her face anymore.
“I did not disbelieve you,” Vakar replied.
“But you wanted to see her naked,” Pink said, and Eva could picture her lip curling in amusement.
“No, that is not why I . . . You are making a joke.” Vakar’s smell shifted to a grassy, bashful one that complemented the rest of the room nicely.
Pink snorted. “Lord almighty, you are too easy.”
“Thanks for letting me know I’m naked, Dr. Jones,” Eva said crossly. As if the whole situation wasn’t bad enough, she was now acutely aware that every xana in the entire building could look through the translucent walls and see all her assets on display.
The xana doctor leaned over Eva, projecting professional concern. “The enigmatic grass powder has been cleansed from your physical form, blessed be the Light in which we all may climb.”
“Amen,” Eva said, not entirely sure how to reply. “Gracias, muy amable,” she added awkwardly.
“You may experience some residual effects, including muscular weakness and increased desire for nourishment,” the doctor continued. “Your prognosis is positive. You will be discharged soon.”
“Awesome.” She still hadn’t been told to move, so she didn’t, but the longer she lay there, the more fidgety she felt. Patience had never been one of her many fine qualities.
Worse, there was a sudden commotion at the door, startling for its loudness in the quiet building.
“Captain Rebecca Jones,” a xana said. His voice was surprisingly resonant, but tonally neutral, the translator nanites conveying little difference between the pitches and emphasized syllables. “I am Watcher Rakyra.”
“I don’t give a single lukewarm shit who you are, you’re not going in there,” Pink said.
“I have been requested to ensure the safety and security of yourself and Captain Eva Innocente, as well as the other members of your crew,” Watcher Rakyra continued. “The Prime was deeply concerned when she learned of the situation here, and hopes you will cooperate fully with an investigation into the matter.”
Eva tensed. Who was the Prime? And what would the Watchers do with the xana and their Attuned, the ones who put Eva in the hospital? It probably wouldn’t be good, not with how much they apparently prided themselves on all the “safety and security” around Rilia.
Pink clicked her tongue against her teeth. “There’s nothing to cooperate with. I told you, Eva poked a critter because she’s a fool, and she got a faceful of pollen for it. You would think she’d know better than to lay hands on strange wildlife, but she’s not the sharpest tool in the bag.”
Gracias a dios, Pink was handling it. While Eva was already coming to terms with the idea of hundreds of strangers seeing her naked through minimal colored barriers, she didn’t want to be interrogated like this, especially not before they had their story straight. And she certainly didn’t want to cause these poor people any more trouble than she already had.
“We understand,” Rakyra said. His psychic emanations were muted, but crisply professional, with a strong layer of authority along with polite respect. “It would be our great pleasure to extend to you an invitation to a private audience with our Supreme Executive, who is eager to make your acquaintance.”
Me cago en diez, Eva thought. There was no way everyone who showed up on Garilia got a special trip to the principal’s office. They knew who Eva was, probably thanks to the altercation outside, and now the shit was really hitting the air filters.
“Well, when you put it that way,” Pink said. “Does the Supreme Executive want my entire crew to come along, or just little ol’ me?”
“The invitation is for you and all of your friends,” Watcher Rakyra replied, his psychic tone politely deferential. “Especially Captain Innocente.”
Mierda. Should they run back to the ship and leave, before something happened? Before it was too late to back out and come up with a safer plan?
Pink and Eva had worn their spacesuits, but Vakar had opted for a more casual jumpsuit instead of his Wraith armor—now scent-suppressing so he wasn’t sharing his entire emotional state like an ad on a commwall, but it left him exposed in ways that made Eva uncomfortable now that trouble seemed imminent. And of course Sue was always vulnerable, and with Min and Mala alo
ng for this mission as well . . .
That won’t get us closer to Josh, she thought. We’re here, and we’re in this. Might as well see what game this Prime is playing so we can learn the rules and make our own moves.
Also, she told herself, you’re naked and rotating in a stasis field, so your options are limited anyway.
((Accept?)) Pink pinged her.
((Accept,)) she told Pink. ((Information.))
((Dangerous,)) Pink replied. ((Sure?))
((Yes,)) Eva said. They’d put themselves in danger just by coming to Garilia. Pink knew that as well as she did.
“We’ll be happy to join you as soon as Captain Innocente is discharged,” Pink said.
“We await her release with great eagerness and wishes for good health,” Watcher Rakyra replied. His psychic tone was now sympathetic, but tiny spikes of anger and relief broke through the overtone of authority he projected continuously.
The pink Attuned entered the room, its mouth open in an approximation of a smile. It was only a bit shorter than Eva, if she were standing, and round as the egg it carried in a harness strapped to its broad chest. “Niss!” it announced, and then disappeared from Eva’s view as she continued to revolve.
At least it wasn’t saying “penis” like earlier, Eva thought. She began to giggle uncontrollably, her chest shaking in a way that made the Attuned repeat the word in a more chiding voice.
Of course, at precisely that moment she got a call from her dear, lovely sister. Eva switched her commlink to accept subvocalizations and answered. “Qué bola, Mari?”
Mari sounded pissed, as usual, but still her prim and proper self. She ran them through the standard codes and countersigns before finally asking, “Eva-Benita, what exactly are you doing at this precise moment?”
Eva rolled her eyes, hoping that wasn’t too much motion for her doctor’s orders. “I’m practicing my lechón impression.”
Prime Deceptions Page 18
