Eva grabbed the bundle of pinkish cables and teased out the magenta one. Probably. Holding her breath, she brought her vibroblade up to the insulated surface and, in one swift motion, sliced the cable in two.
Moments passed. The energy cube continued to glow the same merry pinkish-purple in front of her. If anything was exploding, it was happening slowly and elsewhere. She debated whether to stay in the relative safety of her current location or see what was happening on the surface. For all she knew, Emle had been wrong about whether cutting the power would work at all, and the Gate was still active. Yeah, she’d better check.
With a sharp exhalation of breath, Eva began to climb and crawl back toward the access tunnel. Nothing seemed to be moving above her, which she hoped was a good sign. Slowly, carefully, she peered over the edge.
At first, it looked as if she’d failed. The dreadnought was still there, moving inexorably toward the Forge station and the battle surrounding it. But as Eva looked closer, she realized the Gate was closed, showing stars through its vast arc instead of black sky and a freaky mystery planet.
Also, the rest of the massive ship was gone. Only the front part remained, inertia continuing to carry it forward since it no longer had engines.
“Alabao,” Eva whispered. She had done it. For particular definitions of “it,” since she had no idea whether anyone else had survived.
Before she could open comms to find out, a figure appeared above her. The bike-bot, its arm blades retracted. The larger robot was nowhere in sight, unless the faint twinkle of red near the ruined starship was from its lights.
Eva tensed. The bot had helped her, yes, but that didn’t mean it approved of what she had done. It wasn’t like they’d planned it all out together; they couldn’t even communicate with each other, and she had no idea what it wanted or why. Hell, for all she knew it could have come from that ship in the first place.
Silently, as all things were in space, the bot gestured at the wreck and turned back to her. Asking whether Eva had done that? Who knew what strange robot gestures meant? But Eva nodded anyway, in case its translators were as impossibly advanced as the rest of it. Them. If they were sapient, they deserved pronouns, though they weren’t broadcasting them over a commlink like everyone else did.
The bot turned away again, as if surveying the situation. Their expression was inscrutable, eyes glowing the same bright blue as before. Eva resisted the urge to run, because she didn’t exactly have anywhere to go. Down, maybe, back into the Gate. The access tunnel wouldn’t fit the bot, so she should be safe there.
Before she could move, the bot started to walk away. Brow furrowed, Eva climbed farther out of the tunnel, wondering what they were doing.
Without warning, a small Gate opened in front of them, like the ones Eva had seen back at the Fridge base. Oval-shaped, its edges bright green and blurred, and large enough to let the bot pass through without ducking. The other side looked like the interior of a ship, though it could as easily have been a building, given the aesthetic of the planet Eva had seen in that other galaxy. Every surface was metallic with lines suggesting connected plates, blue-white lights in the ceiling illuminating the room and its occupants. A huge bot stood behind a console that glowed faintly with floating pictographs reminiscent of the ones in the ruins on Cavus, while another bot waited nearby, staring directly into the small Gate.
Madre de dios, how many of them are there? Eva wondered. And what do they want?
The bike-bot stepped through the Gate, turning back to Eva one last time. To her surprise and confusion, they folded all their fingers but one and raised their fist at her. A moment later, the Gate disappeared, and Eva was left alone in the starlit darkness of space.
A thumbs-up. The robot had given her a thumbs-up.
My life, Eva thought, is too fucking weird. But it was her life, and she was alive, and that was better than the alternative.
Chapter 25
A Hero and a Memory
Eva sat on the floor in the hallway outside the med bay as a nurse tended to Mari’s broken leg. They were all in the hallway, technically, since the station’s med bay was completely overrun with the injured, Fridge and Forge alike. The reek of antiseptic and various species’ blood and other fluids was enough to make Eva turn her isohelmet back on, but it was a small price to pay for being able to smell Vakar again. He sat next to her, a hand on her thigh, reeking of incense and ozone with enough of an undercurrent of licorice to ease some of Eva’s own nerves.
“She will be fine,” Vakar said.
“I know,” Eva replied. “She’s broken bones before.”
They fell silent again, Eva afraid to ask the questions piling up in her head, and Vakar apparently unaware of them or unwilling to broach the subjects. His bosses couldn’t be happy with him, though maybe they’d be less angry, given that Vakar had defied their orders because he’d been investigating a massive Fridge attack.
Maybe not. Nothing to be done about it now. Worst case, Vakar was back on their crew permanently, and she was very prepared to be fine with that. She suspected he wasn’t, though, which made her sad even as she understood completely.
To distract herself, Eva started rooting through newsnet feeds, looking for something about Garilia. All she could find was a brief note that the system was closed as BOFA investigated local safety issues, and that tourists with canceled contracts should reach out to the appropriate authorities to ask for refunds.
She snorted, wondering whether Regina’s team had managed to round up all the escaped Pod Pals in the end, and how many of them were already scattered across various galaxies in the possession of random rich people. Too many, no doubt, to ever catch them all.
Had Eva done the right thing for Garilia, ultimately? She didn’t know. Lashra Damaal would hopefully have justice, whatever that looked like, and be unable to further her plans in the future. Whether the resistance would be able to change what needed changing remained to be seen. Politics was slow until it wasn’t, and a wave could quickly become a tsunami or a riptide.
But maybe, for Eva at least, it was time to walk away and leave that beach well behind her.
“Captain Innocente,” a voice above her said. Agent Elus, her blue-gray skin trending a little greener, her tentacle-hair still swept back from her face. She wore a spacesuit, to Eva’s surprise, eggshell-white except where it was grimy from grease or smoke or, in at least one place, blood.
Not her own, Eva thought, but I’m not going to ask.
“Agent Elus,” Eva responded. “Can I help you with something?”
“Perhaps. May we speak privately?” She held out a hand to help Eva stand.
Eva used her own hand to push off Vakar’s leg and rise alone. “Lead the way.”
Agent Elus turned the offered hand into a direction gesture and began to walk. Eva followed her, limping awkwardly thanks to her missing gravboot. They didn’t go far, ducking into what Eva would have assumed was a supply closet except for the small desk and chairs stuffed into it. She closed the door behind her as Agent Elus took a seat, leaning forward to clasp her hands on top of the desk as her vapor sacs released a puff of air.
“Captain Innocente,” Agent Elus said without preamble, “I want you to work for us.”
Eva raised an eyebrow. “Qué?”
“After this attack, we are regrettably short on staff,” Agent Elus continued, staring at Eva with her emerald-green eyes. “You have proven yourself to be a worthy enough asset that we would consider ourselves fortunate to have access to your abilities and experience.”
Eva blinked. As nice as it was to be complimented for a change, she replayed the words in her head and pursed her lips. She was a person, not an asset, not some list of skills that could be entered into a database and linked for easy searching.
“Is this offer just for me, or for my whole crew?” Eva asked.
“All of you,” Agent Elus replied. “Though we would gladly accept any of you individually if you so choose.”
<
br /> Not just Eva’s choice to make, then; she’d have to discuss it with everyone else. Almost unfortunate, really, since she’d have declined immediately if the job offer meant leaving her crew. This made the question more complicated.
“Is there anything you would like to know before making a decision?” Agent Elus asked.
“There is one thing,” Eva said. She gestured around her. “What is the point of all this?”
“All what?”
“The Forge. The Gate. Everything you’re doing here. Why?” Eva stared at the other woman, eyebrows raised.
“To protect the universe,” Agent Elus replied.
“From what? The Fridge? Other enemies?” Eva thought of the dreadnought floating in the black outside and suppressed a shudder.
“Certainly,” Agent Elus said. She leaned forward farther, the intensity of her gaze nearly electric. “We are not interested in fame or fortune, Captain. We are shields, not swords, first and foremost. But given recent events, we expect retaliation may be imminent, and for the sake of all sentient life in the universe, we cannot afford to be unprepared.”
Por si las moscas, Eva thought. Then again, The Forge had built the Gate in the first place and poked whatever sleeping robo-bear had waited on the other side. If they hadn’t, maybe the dreadnought would still be off in its weird starless corner of the universe, quiet and oblivious.
Or maybe it would have showed up somewhere else unannounced and burned it all down. Maybe it would have brought more friends and really had a party. This might have been the only way to have any information about the enemy and what they were capable of beforehand.
Eva thought about saving stars, and the impossibility thereof, and exhaled sharply.
“I have to discuss it with my crew, obviously,” Eva said.
“Indeed.” Agent Elus leaned back. “I will not rush you, but I do request that you decide with some haste. We do not know how much more time we have.”
“My ship should be docking momentarily,” Eva said. “I won’t make you wait long.”
Agent Elus rose stiffly, and Eva wondered whose blood it was on her spacesuit. She held out her hand again, and this time Eva took it, shaking it firmly. Such a human gesture, formal and concise.
“Thank you again for what you did at the Gate,” Agent Elus said. “The universe owes you a great debt.”
Eva snorted and smirked. “Just let me know where to send the invoice.”
To her surprise, Agent Elus gave the kloshian equivalent of a laugh. “Your sister mentioned you had a sense of humor,” she said. “May it continue to serve you well in these dark times.”
“Canta y no llores, my abuela always says,” Eva replied. “But I was always a better fighter than a singer.”
“We all have our talents.” Agent Elus gestured at the door. “May I escort you back to the med bay?”
Eva shook her head. “I can find it myself. And I need to get to the docking bay after that anyway.”
“Thank you for your time, then, Captain. I hope you find success, whatever your decision may be.” Her emerald eyes darkened slightly. “One final question, if I may.”
“Yeah?”
“How were you able to locate Dr. Carter?”
Eva snorted a laugh, then groaned and slapped her forehead. Miles fucking Erck was still in her cargo bay, in a shipping container, unless someone had let him out after she left.
“I don’t suppose you want a two-for-one deal on scientists?” she asked.
“Is this another joke, Captain?” Agent Elus angled her head slightly, as if confused.
“Maybe, maybe not. I’ll let you know.” Eva flicked her fingers off her forehead in a brusque salute and left. She couldn’t imagine anyone voluntarily wanting Miles to work for them, but she’d be more than happy to drop him here instead of dealing with him for another two cycles back to the system Gate. His choice, though; she wouldn’t go back on her promise to keep him safe, and away from Emle.
Eva limped back down the corridor to the rows of makeshift gurneys and cots. Vakar was gone, which gave her a pang of fear, but he appeared from around a corner holding a cup that he held out to her in silence.
Coffee. And it didn’t smell like shit. Eva took a careful sip, letting the bittersweet flavor wash over her tongue.
“You know I love you, right?” Eva asked.
“I am aware, and the feeling is mutual,” Vakar replied. “What did the agent wish to speak about?”
“I’ll tell you when we get back to La Sirena Negra,” Eva said. They would have a lot to talk about, her and the rest of the crew. Their vacation to Brodevis was looking less and less likely, alas, especially now that they were once again two cycles from the nearest Gate. But whatever they decided to do, they’d do it together, Eva was sure.
“What will you do now?” Vakar asked, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.
“Right now?” Eva replied. She nestled her head against his chest, breathing in the scent of licorice and feeling marginally more at peace. “Right now, mi amor, I’m going to enjoy the hell out of this damn fine cup of coffee.”
Acknowledgments
As with the first book, attempting to come up with a full accounting of everyone who deserves to be acknowledged for their contributions to this work feels impossible, so here is my best approximation.
Humble and sincere thanks to:
Eric, my husband, for keeping me going in ways big and small every day. If it weren’t for you, I would never sleep.
My agent Quressa Robinson, for doing so many things I would never think of, quietly and diligently and without my ever needing to ask.
My editors, Tessa Woodward and David Pomerico, and everyone else at Harper Voyager (Kayleigh! Elle! Lauren! Michelle!), for sending my crew out into space once again, cats and all.
My mother, Nayra, for whom there is not enough wine in the world to convey my gratitude.
Jay Wolf, for an endless outpouring of time and imagination and conversation and emotional fortification, which I can only hope to repay in kind someday.
Matthew, Rick, and Amalia, for the advice and memes and commiseravens that sustain me when the days are long and the months are short.
My Isle of Write friends, who cheer on my every success and ply me with tea and comfort whenever I need it, and who drive out the brain weasels with fire.
The staff at specialTEA Lounge, who fed me vegan baked goods and made me delicious coffee and tea and cheese wraps for the months that it took to write this book.
My NaNoWriMo folks, new and old, who sprint with me in person and online, for keeping me on track and occasionally yelling with me about nerdy things.
My sister, Laura, for talking to me about things that have absolutely nothing to do with books, but also for sending me pictures of my book in the wild.
My family-in-laws, Aimee and Luis and Vanessa and Ashley and Erik, for childcare and holiday happiness and always being sturdy anchors in stormy seas.
My dad, Keith, and stepmom, Jackie, for believing in me since back when I was hogging the family computer to type up my terrible poems.
My siblings and stepsiblings, Tasha and Kirk and Jennifer and John, and all their excellent spouses, for continuing to support me from near and far.
My many other friends and family, for buying my first book and asking about this one, for showing up to my events and sharing my Facebook posts and Twitter threads, for helping me pack and move my whole damn house when I was losing my mind, and for making sure I remember that I’m a person and not just a name on a book cover.
And finally, all the people who loved the first book and told me how much they’re looking forward to this one, thank you for giving me someone to write for besides myself.
Chilling Effect
Go back to the start with
Chilling Effect
Valerie Valdes’s first Eva Innocente novel
Available now from Harper Voyager
Captain Eva Innocente and the crew of La Si
rena Negra cruise the galaxy delivering small cargo for even smaller profits. When her sister, Mari, is kidnapped by The Fridge, a shadowy syndicate that holds people hostage in cryostasis, Eva must undergo a series of unpleasant, dangerous missions to pay the ransom.
But Eva may lose her mind before she can raise the money. The ship’s hold is full of psychic cats; an amorous fish-faced emperor wants her dead after she rejects his advances; and her sweet engineer is giving her a pesky case of feelings. The worse things get, the more she lies, raising suspicions and testing her loyalty to her found family.
To free her sister, Eva will risk everything: her crew, her ship, and the life she’s built on the ashes of her past misdeeds. But when the dominoes start to fall and she finds the real threat is greater than she imagined, she must decide whether to play it cool or burn it all down.
About the Author
VALERIE VALDES’s work has been published in Nightmare Magazine, Uncanny Magazine, and the anthologies She Walks in Shadows and Time Travel Short Stories. She is a graduate of the Viable Paradise workshop and lives in Georgia with her husband and children.
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Also by Valerie Valdes
Chilling Effect
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
prime deceptions. Copyright © 2020 by Valerie Valdes. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
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