Regina pursed her lips. “Bueno, just because it’s late doesn’t mean I can’t look nice. Especially when I’m about to meet your friends for the first time.” Her tone shifted to excessive friendliness at the end of her statement. “Hello, mucho gusto, I’m Regina Alvarez. Por favor, come in, make yourselves at home.”
With an imperious wave, Regina floated back inside, and Eva reluctantly followed. Yes, this had all been her idea, and she was still fairly sure it was the right call, but part of her wanted to run screaming into the nearby ocean and swim until she reached another island. Maybe another planet.
The interior of the building was surprisingly large and well furnished, apparently with humans in mind. Kitchen with typical food-synthesizing equipment, living area with plush-looking couches and seats, dining room with a table and chairs made from colorful carved bark pieces. One of the chairs had been relocated to allow access to her mom’s hoverchair, but everything else was already arranged so as not to impede her movement or be frustratingly unreachable. A hallway led to more rooms, the translucent walls obscured by the privacy fogging mechanism.
“Bueno, so,” Regina said, shifting in her chair to lean on the right arm, laying a red-nailed finger on her cheek. “Evita, dale, introduce me to everyone, please.”
Eva refrained from rolling her eyes and instead started with Pink, who was closest. “This is my co-captain, Dr. Rebecca Jones,” Eva said.
“Pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” Pink said, offering a hand to Regina, who shook it delicately.
“A doctor and a captain?” Regina asked. “Very impressive. My abuelo was a doctor, you know. He and a few colleagues opened a hospital together near a university, and he was the chief resident for several years. Did you attend university?”
“No, I trained remotely,” Pink said, the temperature of her voice dropping slightly.
“Ah, okay,” Regina said, eyes wide even as her smile remained plastered on her face. Eva could almost see the drive core in her mind firing desperately as she tried to reroute. “Well, remote training must be difficult, since your facilities are limited. You have to work harder, sí?”
Pink flashed a brief, sardonic grin. “There are certainly fewer options for getting laid, but we manage.”
Eva snorted a laugh and bumped Pink with her hip. Regina laughed as well, hearty and not entirely genuine or comfortable.
“This is Park Min-jung, our pilot,” Eva continued, gesturing at Min, who had removed her shoes and was examining an elaborate-looking VR setup pushed against the far wall.
“Happy to meet you!” Min replied, rushing over and giving a polite bow, Mala on her heels. “Thank you for looking after us.”
“Ay, no, sin pena,” Regina said. “I’m always happy to help my daughter and her friends. And their cats?” She eyed Mala curiously, and Mala purred, twining in a figure eight.
Eva cringed internally. Her memories of growing up didn’t exactly support the idea that her mother was happy to help—more like she was happy to be involved, the metiche—but Eva wasn’t about to be contrary. Not when she’d called out of nowhere in the middle of the night to ask for yet another favor.
“Aren’t you a little young to be a pilot?” Regina asked Min.
“Mami, por favor, she’s an excellent pilot,” Eva said. “No empiezas.”
“Qué, ya, I’m not starting anything,” Regina replied. “It was just a question.” She gestured at Sue. “She seems very young, too, mija. I hope you’re not running any unpaid internships.”
“Her name is Susan.” Eva shook her head. “And no, that’s illegal.”
“Bueno,” Regina said, drawing the word out and raising her hands defensively. They both knew what she meant: that hadn’t stopped Eva before.
And yes, in fairness, Min and Sue had been in a lot of dangerous situations that Eva would never, ever tell her mother about in a million years. But she did pay them well for it, and more importantly, they did it because they wanted to.
“So you’re Susan Zafone,” Regina said, staring at Sue, who blushed and scooted closer to Min. Eva tensed, preparing to sidestep a lecture about criminal activity.
Vakar entered the room then, smelling like menthol-flavored tobacco. “The Watchers have departed,” he said. “I also searched the perimeter and interior for surveillance equipment and did not detect any active devices.”
Eva froze like she’d been stuffed into a cryo locker. Vakar. Coño carajo, she had never told her mom about Vakar. Hadn’t even mentioned she was in a relationship at all because she didn’t want to answer the inevitable prying questions, which would lead to some story about her mom’s latest unpleasant date with Fulano de Tal and how Eva really needed to be careful out there.
Why hadn’t she stuffed herself into the recycler instead? And why hadn’t she spent the entire cabrón ride over here figuring out how to deal with this unbearably awkward moment?
Before Eva could say anything, her mother dove in headfirst. “Dios mío, is this your security guard?” Regina asked, moving her chair closer to the door. Her tone was laced with suspicion and dismay, her lips pressing together as she scrutinized the now grassy-smelling Vakar.
“This is Vakar Tremonis san Jaigodaris,” Eva said, her mouth dry. “He’s not security, he’s my partner.”
Regina raised an eyebrow. “You have a partner and a co-captain? Un poco extraño, pero bueno, allá tú.”
Eva closed her eyes and inhaled. “No, Mami, not that kind of partner.” She stared down at her mother, who stared up at her with raised eyebrows. Behind Eva, Pink snorted a laugh.
Finally, Regina lifted her head in a slow nod. “Oh,” she said. “Mija, you didn’t tell me you—”
“I forgot,” Eva said. “Anyway. It’s late, everyone is tired, I’m sure you’re tired, so we should—”
But Regina had already slid up next to Vakar, whose bashful grassy smell was intensifying and gaining layers of tar and ozone. Her mother was a lot at the best of times, but new-significant-other meetings were a whole other level.
“Regina Alvarez,” Regina said, holding her hand out to Vakar. He took it gravely, carefully, shaking it once with his own gloved claw.
“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Vakar replied solemnly.
“Are you nervous, mijo?” Regina said, smiling, patting his hand. “Ay, don’t be. It’s not your fault Eva-Benita is so secretive. I’m glad we were able to finally meet! You can tell me all about yourself. How long have you known each other?”
Alabao, it was like a searchlight being pointed directly at Vakar’s face. Eva took his hand away from her mother’s and flashed a pained and very forced grin. “Mami, por favor, can this wait?”
They stared at each other for several long moments, various expressions flashing across both their faces. Finally, Regina pursed her lips and wagged her head.
“Bueno, qué suerte, this place has plenty of beds and those hammocks the xana prefer,” Regina said, waving in the direction of the hallway. “I had been using one of the spare rooms as an office, but I put my things in the master bedroom so you don’t have to worry about it.”
Eva narrowed her eyes. “So what does BOFA have you doing all the way out here?” she asked.
Regina smiled with her mouth closed. “I thought we were all very sleepy, mija,” she replied.
Touché. Eva nodded and yawned, lacing her fingers together and stretching her arms out in front of her.
“Gracias, Mami,” Eva said. “We’ll talk more in the morning.”
“Cierto,” Regina agreed, and Eva wondered briefly whether they could somehow wake up extra early and sneak out before her mother noticed.
The smell of coffee, proper Cuban coffee, greeted Eva when she startled awake from a nightmare. She’d been back at her childhood home, lying in her mom’s bed, and the xana they’d called Mother had stood in the doorway staring down at her. Had drifted closer while Eva clutched her blanket and tried to scream, tried to leave, but her muscles wouldn’t
respond, her voice was a whisper, no one could hear her and no one would come to save her, and then a tiny perfect circle bloomed on Mother’s forehead as purple blood trailed down between her enormous, dark eyes . . .
Eva sucked in a lungful of air and wiped her face with the back of her hand. That had been milder than usual, and no less than she deserved, but it wasn’t the best way to start a cycle that promised to be its own special brand of unpleasant.
She’d opted to sleep on the couch, with Vakar sitting across from her, close to the door in case someone tried to get in—or leave, though where her mother went was less of a worry at the moment than whether they were about to be rounded up by agents of the Prime.
Part of her was still wondering why they hadn’t been, why the Watchers had agreed to bring them all here when asked. Lashra Damaal was playing a hell of a game of dominoes, laying down one tile after another with no clear strategy. And Eva had a bad feeling she’d be the one locked out and left knocking on the table.
“Good morning, good morning, good morning to you!” Regina sang, hovering over with a tacita of coffee for Eva, complete with espumita. “I know you prefer a cortadito, but I forgot to bring any milk, and I can’t figure out how to get this cabrón máquina to work.” She gestured at the synthesizer in the kitchen behind her.
“It’s fine, gracias, Mami,” Eva said, and took the tiny cup. “I’m surprised they even have tazas de café here.”
“Ay, no, I brought my own,” Regina said. “And my cafetera. When you travel as much as I do, you realize very quickly that no one has what you need, so . . .” She shrugged and returned to the kitchen, retrieving her own cafecito and sipping it delicately.
Eva inhaled the dark, bittersweet scent and sighed happily. For all the other reasons this whole trip had been shit, a cup of good coffee almost made it worthwhile. Almost.
Regina returned, inching toward Eva, but with her eyes on Vakar. He was resting, his eyes closed and his palps still, scales gently shifting as he breathed.
Regina leaned in close to Eva’s ear. “Is he asleep?” she whispered.
“He doesn’t sleep,” Eva whispered back. “Also he can hear you, he’s just being polite.” You sang a whole song a minute ago, Eva thought, shaking her head in disbelief.
“Ah, bueno, good morning then,” Regina said. “Do any of your . . . friends drink coffee, too?”
“Not Cuban coffee, no,” Eva replied. “Pink prefers iced sweet tea, Min likes hot green tea, and Sue drinks some weird thing she calls ‘root beer’ that’s like if licorice and malta had a baby.”
“I hope they can get the synthesizer to work, because I didn’t bring any of that.” Regina studied Eva critically, continuing to sip her coffee, lips perfectly lined and colored the same dark red she’d worn for years. Eva waited, wondering which of them would break the silence first, and what topic they would start with. Why Eva was on Garilia? Why she hadn’t mentioned it during their prior call?
“You should have told me you had a boyfriend, mija.”
Eva sighed, in relief or exasperation, or maybe both. “What, like, sent you a q-mail? ‘Oye Mamita, I’m good, by the way I have a partner now, here’s a picture’?”
“Sí, eso,” Regina said. “Your sister sent me a picture of her last boyfriend.”
Yeah, right. “I didn’t think about it. I’ve been busy with work.”
“Claro. And now you’re here doing what, exactly? Looking for that criminal?”
Eva exhaled loudly and threw herself sideways to lie on the couch. “No empieces, por favor. What are you doing here, hmm?”
Regina looked away and took an unusually long sip of her coffee. “This is my business trip, like you said,” she replied.
“What business?” Eva asked. “You’re an auditor. What are you auditing here for BOFA?”
Regina’s expression flattened out, like she was making an effort to control it. “Garilia’s membership application. A lot of things have to be checked and rechecked before the planet can upgrade its protected status.”
Of course someone had to oversee a whole planet being in compliance with whatever rules and regulations BOFA churned out. Eva had never imagined her own mom doing it. That was a job for random, faceless bureaucrats in stuffy offices with desks covered in holocubes of kid pictures—exactly the kind of thing Eva had run away from when she was a teenager, going to work for her dad, with his glamorous universe-traveling life of adventure.
And here her mother was, out from behind her desk, apparently traveling the universe to check . . . Whatever the hell needed checking. A bureaucrat with a face. And coincidentally, conveniently, assigned to the last place in the universe Eva wanted to be, and the place she needed to be the most in that moment.
Eva found herself deeply unsettled in ways she couldn’t process immediately, so instead, she deflected.
“I need to get some breakfast,” she announced, springing to her feet and taking her taza to the kitchen for sanitizing.
“I can make you something,” Regina said, floating up behind her.
“No, it’s okay, I want to see what they have that’s more . . . local. Maybe take a walk by the water.” Eva smiled, hoping it looked genuine.
Vakar opened one eye, otherwise not moving. “Would you like me to go with you?”
“No, that’s fine, I’m fine. How are you?” She was aware of how absurdly chipper she must sound to him, but hoped he wouldn’t make a big deal out of it.
Pink emerged from the room she was sharing with Min and Sue, yawning and stretching like the cat that followed at her heels. “I want some local breakfast, too. I’m coming.”
Eva almost protested that she wanted to be alone, but the look in Pink’s eye stopped her. “Fine, great, salpica. My stomach isn’t going to feed itself.” She crossed to the other couch to give Vakar an awkward sideways hug, which he returned, resting his head briefly against hers before releasing her. He smelled like licorice, like the air before rain, but as much as she wanted to keep sitting with him, she couldn’t stay there for another minute.
Regina smiled like she had a secret. “Bueno, I have to get to work, but I’ll be here when you get back.” She hovered over to Eva, who dutifully planted a kiss on her mother’s cheek before practically running for the door.
Pink, who had always been the best at reading a room, let Eva stew while they walked aimlessly through the tourist area. The streets were full of people at this hour, mostly kloshian and frog-like vroak and four-armed buasyr with their spidery eyes, all enjoying the golden-hued local star brightening the sky to a stunning blue. A group of muk wandered by together, their claws snapping in excitement at whatever their guide was signaling, and isolated pockets of humans carrying bags of beach supplies sauntered toward the water like they were on a mission. Signs outside various buildings indicated that food was available inside, but the prices were wildly beyond what Eva was interested in paying, and as hungry as she genuinely was, she had a head full of other problems.
The rebels would be contacting her at some point with their plan for shutting down the lab, and her crew would have to decide whether they were in or out. Or she could do it alone and let them work another angle? That might be the safest choice, and the most practical. But it was almost pointless to keep speculating until she had a better idea of how this would all go down.
A protein bar was waved in front of her face. Eva glanced sideways at Pink.
“Gracias,” Eva said, tearing into it gratefully.
“I know we’ve got some ground to cover,” Pink said quietly. “Not here, obviously, when we get back.”
Eva nodded, chewing and trying not to glare at all the surveillance equipment she knew was positioned around the area.
“You wanna talk about your mom, though?” Pink continued. “She’s something else.”
A kloshian family walked by, a pair of identical children scampering around the parents like satellites around a planet. Eva scowled and swallowed the bite in her mouth.
“Nah,” Eva said. “My stuff with her is a lot and it’s not going anywhere in a hurry. Better to focus on more useful things.”
Pink laid a hand on Eva’s arm and guided her off to one side of the street, to stand in the bright-red shade of a building. “Y’all are going to compartmentalize yourself into a breakdown,” Pink said. “I’ve been there, and it’s not fun. Don’t overdo it.”
“I know.”
Pink started walking again, leading this time. She tossed a smirk at Eva. “She really does just say anything that comes into her head, doesn’t she?”
Eva snorted. “She’s worse once she gets comfortable with you. That was her on her best behavior.”
“Lord save us,” Pink said. “And you really didn’t tell her about Vakar?”
“I’ve barely spoken to her in years. It wasn’t on purpose.” Not the whole time, anyway.
Pink held up a hand as if to ward off Eva’s tone. “I get you. Not like I’ve introduced y’all to everyone I’ve banged in the last eight years.”
A brief mental inventory of Pink’s sexual escapades cycled through Eva’s mind. The ones she knew about, anyway. “Ay dios, remember Adrian?”
“Adrian!” Pink groaned. “His hair was so good. All long and blond and silky. It was like God made it personally and angels kept it perfect with nightly visits.”
“His son was a handful, though. Had that jump rope he kept hitting you with.”
Pink laughed. “He said it was his whip. And I couldn’t be like, ‘Boy, I’ll show you a real whip,’ because I’m not that kind of lady.”
Before they could continue reminiscing, a shadow fell over them, and within seconds they were entirely flanked. Calm but authoritative psychic tones emanated from three Watchers, including the seemingly ever-present Watcher Rakyra, whom Eva was really starting to feel like punching.
“Captain Innocente,” Watcher Rakyra said. “I have been asked to convey many apologies to you for the destruction of your companion robot, and the injuries it caused to your person.”
Prime Deceptions Page 25
