Slowly, maintaining the psychic effects, some of the xana produced small offerings of food from their pockets or harness pouches. They held these out without waving them around or otherwise trying to attract additional attention, but the creature was clearly interested in the people with food more than the others. Nonetheless, no one reduced their contribution to the communal activity—what would one call it? Storm seemed more aggressive than what was happening, but then again, Eva hadn’t seen a storm on Garilia yet. Maybe their weather was calmer, more soothing.
Finally, the Attuned did one last slow rotation at the center of the circle, then stopped and ambled toward one of the xana. The others remained where they stood, but withdrew psychically, emanating continued support without that underlying coaxing. The chosen xana was young, the equivalent of a teenager if Eva had to guess, and he was unable to contain his excitement as the Attuned nudged him with its short snout. The xana offered his tail to the creature and it rested its head on it, and they shared a long moment of psychic communion that ended with a burst of sheer joy. The circle slowly dissolved then, and other xana approached the newly bonded one and its Attuned to press against him like a gentle, armless hug.
“Wow,” Eva said.
“Indeed,” Vakar said.
They stood together quietly, continuing to watch as this scene repeated for each of the eggs that hatched. Once the groups finished, they left the dig site, moving carefully around the construction equipment and materials and assisting those who had difficulty navigating by themselves. Some xana chatted quietly, all in good spirits if the emotions they were broadcasting were genuine, and a few mentioned other Storms they hoped to attend since they still had no Attuned of their own.
The local star had set completely, leaving the area dark except for the lights each xana carried with them. There were two moons, Eva knew, but at this time in the planet’s rotation they weren’t visible, so the sky was an uninterrupted stretch of velvety blue-black bright with stars. This planet was far enough from the center of its spiraling galaxy to give a good view of the most distant arms, less like the wide scar of the Milky Way and more like a gentle wave, glittering and vast, slowly cresting for eons.
Eva had a sudden sense of being watched, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up. “We should probably go,” she said. They would be alone soon anyway; there was only one egg left.
“Please stay a moment, if you would be so gracious,” someone said behind them. A xana, her dark-brown fur striped black, huge eyes contemplating Eva and Vakar as she stood next to, of all people, Nara Sumas. It took a moment for Eva to realize it was her because Nara wasn’t wearing her armor, which made her marginally less tall and broad, but she was still imposing as hell. Her long, green hair was pulled back into a ponytail tight enough to give Eva a headache, and her spacesuit was the same color as the sky.
The scuff of a footstep to her left alerted her to another arrival: Jei, the cyborg-guy from Abelgard. His arm weapon wasn’t raised, but if the lights on the side were any indication, it was primed to fire.
“We’re unarmed, you know,” Eva said, taking a small step away from Vakar.
Nara snorted derisively. “So am I,” she said, her voice a deep contralto.
Yeah, okay, they both knew that didn’t mean shit. “What can I do for you?” Eva asked the xana.
“First, may I inquire as to whether you are carrying prototypes of the synthetic Attuned?” the xana asked.
“We’re not packing any Ball Buddies, no,” Eva replied. “Should we be?”
“They serve as ever-vigilant sentinels for the Watchers,” the xana said. “Through them, the government monitors multiple sensory outputs within a radius of several meters.”
Eva suppressed an eye roll. She knew those things were trouble. “Robot spies. Awesome.” She’d have to be sure Min and Sue got rid of theirs when she went back to the room.
“I’m not getting any readings from her,” Nara said. “She’s clean.”
Eva raised an eyebrow. “Why bother asking if you were—you wanted to see if I would lie about it?”
Nara smiled, close-lipped, but didn’t say anything.
“We are here to extend a request for you to have a discussion with certain interested parties,” the xana said. “A discussion regarding the current Garilian regime and securing potential aid for its . . . detractors.” Her hands were clasped together in front of her, the gesture almost absurdly human, perhaps meant to put Eva at ease.
Detractors. A nice way of saying “rebels” if she ever heard one. Her stomach twisted; go figure that she would help one revolution the first time she came to Garilia, only to get tagged by the other side as soon as she came back.
“I’m assuming you want to have this discussion somewhere else?” Eva asked. A glance toward the pit told her the remaining xana were almost gone, which would leave her and Vakar alone with their new companions.
“We have more secure facilities for that purpose, yes,” the xana replied. “If you are willing.”
“And if we are not?” Vakar asked. His posture had barely shifted, but Eva knew he was ready to throw elbows.
“We depart to our separate destinations,” the xana said. “Coercion is not intended, nor useful to our cause.”
Eva looked to Nara for confirmation, but Nara’s expression didn’t change. A sideways glance at Jei said his weapon was still charged, but he hadn’t moved, either.
She had to admit, she was curious. Seeing Nara and Jei here was confirmation that whatever they had been doing on Abelgard was related to Garilia somehow. Who had hired them, and for what purpose? And why did they want to drag Eva into it now?
More importantly, could they help her find Josh?
((Go?)) Eva pinged at Vakar.
((Tell Pink,)) he pinged back.
Legit. Eva couldn’t very well raise her on comms, but she shot off a message quickly explaining the situation.
“Bueno,” Eva said. “Party at your house. Sorry we’re coming empty-handed.”
“Honored guests need not bring offerings to a gathering,” the xana said, radiating calm.
And it’s not really a party, Eva thought. But so long as it wasn’t a trap, hopefully something useful would come of it.
The xana walked toward a vehicle, tail demurely wrapped around her own neck, as Nara and Jei flanked Eva and Vakar. If something went down, Eva was pretty sure she could take them. Probably.
Pink sent her a terse message that conveyed a whole host of concerns in a few words, but also cautious approval, and Eva closed it down with a sigh, leaving behind the gaping hole in the ground that had been filled with friendship and support only a few minutes earlier. It felt like a metaphor for something, but Eva was no good at metaphors, so she settled for taking a seat in the transport and calculating how many ways she might be able to overpower Nara if the shit hit the air filters.
Their secret meeting place was a nondescript building on the outskirts of Rilia, among the vertical farms, which were much taller now that Eva was right up close to them. Then again, most things were taller than her.
The building’s walls were as translucent as any in the area, until she stepped inside and realized the interior didn’t match the exterior. She backed up and looked again, and sure enough, some kind of tech was projecting an alternate image, of a group of xana cooking and resting. There was even a child playing with an Attuned, one of the yellow mouse-looking ones. Even more impressive, she could feel psychic emanations from all the people shown on the walls, as if they were actually present rather than complete fabrications.
“For every action, an equal and opposite reaction,” Eva murmured. She’d had a conversation with Vakar once, about quennian scents and evolution, and how different groups changed in light of their own physiological and cultural expectations. It wasn’t a linear process, and outside influences could take root and grow like an invasive plant or be viciously rejected by the indigenous life. Either way, it was interesting to see the
process firsthand.
Two people waited for her and Vakar: a human and a xana, along with an Attuned. The xana was tinkering with a small box, his psychic emanations suggesting intense concentration as well as frustration and bitterness, even anger. Strange that he was so easily read, given how hard other xana worked to control their expressions. Maybe he had a condition like Vakar with his smells, or maybe he just wore his heart on his sleeve or whatever the xana equivalent was. His fur was on the lighter side, though not as pale as Damaal’s had been, and his stripes were an amber color that blended into his harness.
The other person was human, dark-skinned and about Vakar’s height, his head shaved close to the skin, a full beard and mustache making him look older than his barely lined forehead suggested. Then again, as Pink was fond of saying, black don’t crack; he could have been anywhere from late thirties to fifties and Eva wouldn’t have been surprised. The bags under his narrow eyes pointed to either lack of sleep or the upper end of that range, or maybe both.
He stopped what he was doing when Eva and Vakar entered, which was apparently working on Jei’s dog robot from the fight on Abelgard. Scientist, then, or engineer. How had he fallen in with these rebels, and what exactly were they up to?
“We have brought Eva Larsen and her companion,” the xana announced to the room.
“Innocente,” Eva corrected. “Captain.”
“My apologies for the misnaming,” the xana said, projecting a brief wave of contrition. “I am called Felsira.”
“Real name or code name?” Eva asked. The xana didn’t respond, and Eva shrugged.
“I am Sapri,” the other xana said. “And this is Dr. Lucien.”
The doctor stood and offered his hand to Eva, who shook it, then was surprised when he leaned in to trade cheek kisses. It had been years since she’d been around someone for whom that was typical, and it brought back a wave of nostalgia for her own childhood. Mala seemed unsurprised by the gesture, or at least she didn’t move from her position around Eva’s neck.
“A pleasure to meet you, Captain Innocente,” Dr. Lucien said. His voice was lilting, with an accent she couldn’t place, familiar as it was.
“Mucho gusto,” Eva said. “This is my partner, Vakar.”
Vakar smelled like hot cooking oil and incense, but said nothing. He still wasn’t a fan of this expedition, but she was glad he’d come. She was less glad for Mala, who was once again digging claws into her skin.
Before Eva could ask what was up, Sapri spoke. “I continue to believe this option is undesirable,” he said, his huge eyes boring into Eva’s. That explained his psychic hostility.
“We agreed that she has contacts and access that we lack,” Felsira said, still calm and collected. “We must approach the problem from multiple lines if we are to ensure success.”
“She is the Butcher,” Sapri said.
“She is the Hero,” Felsira replied.
Eva stared at her boots, hands clenched into fists. “I know who the fuck I am,” she said. “I know what I did. What is it you want from me now?”
Dr. Lucien raised a hand as if to forestall a response from the two xana. “The situation here is not as it was when you . . .” He paused, a furrow developing in his forehead. “I will explain who I am, and how I came to be involved. Perhaps this will serve as an answer to your question.”
“I’m listening,” Eva said.
Jei’s face was about as sour and surly as Sapri’s psychic projection, even as he moved to stand next to Dr. Lucien and his robo-dog, still watching Eva like she was going to lash out at any moment. Nara stood near the door, staring out through the translucent walls at the quiet night scenery outside, but Eva had no doubt she was completely aware of what was going on behind her.
“I was approached by Lashra Damaal at my laboratory on my home planet,” Dr. Lucien continued. “She desired to experiment with the Attuned here, to better serve her people, she claimed. My experience with cybernetic technology led her to believe I would be an asset to her existing team.”
“She was messing with the Attuned?” Eva asked. The people here seemed to almost revere them; she was surprised anyone would go along with something that might cause them harm.
“Initially, yes,” Dr. Lucien replied. He began to tinker with the robot dog again, as if his hands didn’t want to stay idle. “She had even compelled a change in certain laws—quite unpopular, as I understand it—to allow the work to occur. There was resistance among the local scientists, which led her to seek outside assistance.”
“And you agreed to help?” Eva’s estimation of him dropped as she reached a hand up to rub Mala’s face.
“I did not,” Dr. Lucien replied, eyes narrowing. “My cybernetic work is intended to aid disabled people and creatures, with rare exceptions. I would never operate on healthy species who cannot consent to the procedure.”
Eva glanced at Jei, noting his arm cannon, and wondered whether he was one of the rare exceptions. She’d certainly known a few humans who embraced what they called “upgrades” with all the gross baggage that entailed, as well as ones like Pink who’d lost her eye and opted for a new one that would help her a little more at work—not that she needed it, since there was plenty of other tech that did the same stuff, but she liked it and felt like having it.
“I told the Prime this, and she agreed that a change in her project’s goals would be welcome,” Dr. Lucien continued. “So I was brought here to help develop an alternative to the Attuned. An entirely robotic version that would not rely on breeding and harvesting the creatures of this planet, and would instead make use of other local resources and facilities.” He removed a component from the robot dog and peered into the cavity it left, squinting and frowning thoughtfully.
“It was all a ruse,” Sapri interjected, his psychic tone growing angrier. “An excuse for the government to develop new ways to spy on its people, as if it had not already done enough.”
Dr. Lucien nodded. “Truly. I was collaborating with multiple colleagues on this, so I did not realize the extent of the Prime’s intentions until recently.”
Vakar still smelled suspicious, but a fiery anger was starting to encroach. Eva resisted the urge to reach out and squeeze his arm for reassurance.
“Once I learned of the surveillance components, I immediately resigned,” Dr. Lucien said. “A member of the resistance contacted me and asked me to work for them instead. At first I was concerned about meddling in local affairs, but . . .” He shrugged, pinning Eva with a look. “It is important to do what is right, is it not?”
Eva forced her face to remain neutral, despite her squirming guts. “And who gets to decide what’s right or wrong?” she asked. “You? Me? Them?” She gestured at the two xana, whose huge eyes didn’t blink.
“I decide for myself and no one else,” Dr. Lucien said quietly. “But I will tell you this: freedom is important to me, and I have seen what the government here does with its people when they do not obey. It is not to be borne.”
“What does the government do?” Vakar asked.
Sapri spoke up this time. “They force Bonding. Their minds no longer belong to themselves alone, and they become yet another set of senses for the Watchers.”
Bonding. The mind-linking thing the xana did. To make them do it involuntarily, coño carajo . . . For the second time in as many hours, Eva thought of the xana in Damaal’s office. Maybe they were engaged in a different kind of surveillance entirely.
Eva could understand why Dr. Lucien might feel compelled to help. She was halfway there herself. Mala began to purr, as if to calm her, and Eva reached up absently to rub her ears.
“What about you?” Eva asked Felsira. “What’s your angle?”
“It is much the same,” Felsira replied, her psychic emanation still calm but with an undercurrent of resolve. “I lost many things to the rebellion, but the loss of my freedom has been a constant cry, as if it were my Attuned and it had been taken from me.”
Fancy talk, Eva
thought. Especially since Felsira didn’t seem to have an Attuned in the first place. Given what Eva had just seen at the Storm, that probably didn’t mean a lot. The process was unpredictable at best.
She did notice that the xana called it a rebellion. Interesting.
“And you?” she asked Sapri.
“I was part of the revolution,” he said, his own emanations rippling with hurt and anger. “Many things were promised, many changes to help the people of Rilia and beyond. The previous planetary government was a rotten home-tree that had to be cut to spare the forest, but the new tree is a false one, filled with shadows.”
More fancy talk. Eva wondered if most revolutionaries were naturally poets or if she had just ended up with two of them at once.
“What about you, Nara?” Eva asked. “You’re here because you’re getting paid, I assume?”
“Claro,” Nara said, not bothering to turn around. Portuguese, but the word was the same in Spanish.
“Mx. Sumas was hired because she had prior experience here,” Dr. Lucien said, his expression suggesting he wasn’t entirely happy with the notion.
“And your amigo over there?” Eva asked, gesturing at Jei.
“I go where the doctor goes,” Jei said stiffly. His tone suggested he wasn’t interested in further questions, and frankly, that was good enough for Eva. Maybe she’d get his story later—assuming there was a later.
“All right, good talk,” Eva said, clapping and rubbing her hands together. “So now you get to explain what exactly it is you want from me. Something about contacts and access?”
There was a quiet shared conference between the xana and Dr. Lucien, mostly in psychic emanations and glances. After a few moments, Dr. Lucien returned his attention to the robot dog he was working on, Sapri fiddled with his strange box, and Felsira radiated determination.
“We are aware that you were invited to speak with the Prime as an honored guest,” Felsira said, clasping her hands in front of her again. “Our contacts within the Watchers suggest they are extremely concerned with your whereabouts and actions, and are diligently attempting to accommodate you despite some who believe it would be more prudent to require that you leave the planet.”
Prime Deceptions Page 22
