“We work together for now,” Eva said. “Let’s do this.”
Dr. Lucien nodded approval, then hesitated. “One question,” he said.
“Yeah?” Eva asked.
“Why do you have a cat with you?”
Chapter 15
Don’t Blow It
Eva and Vakar were quiet on the way back to the construction site, escorted by a sullen Jei and Nara, with Mala still draped across her neck. The giant pit was empty now, dark, a strange wound on the landscape that would someday be another building stretching up into the sky. Funny how holes could be filled that way, could go from void to life-containing with the work of many hands.
Eva could relate. Maybe her life wasn’t quite as grand as one of the home-trees or their fabricated counterparts, but it had been empty and now it was so full that sometimes it threatened to overflow. She had others to thank for that, a whole crew—a family—who had given her a hand up out of the pit she’d dug for herself and now they’d built something worth inhabiting. She hoped they all felt that way, at least.
Certainly they’d been through enough together already—dangerous jobs, raids on Fridge facilities, space fights and bot fights and everything in between, all for the enormous goal of bringing down an organization that was a starwhale when they were tardigrades. And now she was going to explain to them why they should help yet another group of people who were facing impossible odds to do something that felt right but might be very, very wrong. She wasn’t looking forward to that conversation, but it needed to be had, and if her crew decided not to help the resistance, she would abide by that. They’d find another way to reach Josh, even if it meant crawling back to Damaal and begging.
Eva didn’t think that would be so easy, either, but she had to consider their options.
As she was about to climb out of the vehicle, she stopped. “Random question,” she said.
Nara put a hand on her hip in a way that suggested she’d been reaching for a weapon that wasn’t there. “What,” she said.
“Why were you on Abelgard?” Eva asked. “You never told us.”
“It was none of your business,” Jei replied. He sat on the floor of the transport, his arm weapon still charged; she wondered whether he had to maintain that with concentration or whether it was automatic.
“You can tell me now that we’re such good amigos,” Eva said, smiling at him with her mouth closed.
“Erck,” Nara said. “Same as you.”
Eva hadn’t gone to Abelgard for Erck in the first place, but she wasn’t about to contradict the woman. “What did the resistance want Erck for?”
“What do you want Josh for?” Jei asked, frowning.
“His sister has been looking for him,” Eva replied coolly. “She’s my crew, so I’m helping her.”
Nara looked her up and down, a slow gaze that ended with meeting Eva’s eyes. “Right.” Her tone bristled with sarcasm.
“If that were so, you would have no reason to be sneaking around here the way you are,” Jei said. “And you would not have a reason to extract him. Simply knowing he is here and well would suffice. You might even be able to go straight to the Prime and ask that she let you visit him, and she would likely allow it.”
“Maybe I never trusted Damaal,” Eva said. “She certainly didn’t give me a reason to, and I still don’t have one.”
Jei didn’t look convinced, and Nara . . .
“Don’t make a liar out of me, Larsen,” Nara said.
“Innocente,” Eva corrected. “And don’t pretend you don’t lie all the time.”
“I lie for money,” Nara said. “I lie when a job requires it. I don’t lie for myself.” Her eyes were deep blue, like the sky darkening to night, like the places underwater where light barely reached and everything was cold and crushing.
“I’m not going to screw you over,” Eva said. “Don’t worry.” As if telling anyone not to worry had ever worked.
Nara didn’t even bother rolling her eyes, just gestured dismissively at Eva. Jei glared at her like she’d insulted his parents, which hey, maybe she had. She still wasn’t sure what his beef with her was.
Eva and Vakar climbed out of the transport and watched it take off, zipping away faster than virtually anything seemed to happen on the whole damn planet.
“I guess we go back to the room now,” Eva said.
“Yes,” Vakar replied. Mala yowled agreement as well.
They began to walk, with Vakar leading the way as he had before, though they hadn’t coordinated it. Some things didn’t need to be discussed.
Then again, some things did.
“Is this a bad idea?” Eva asked.
Vakar smelled like incense, like the air before rain, like ozone and jasmine and a shade of mint. All anxiety and worry and a pit of thoughts as deep as the one they were leaving behind them.
“There is a story I learned when I was young,” Vakar said finally.
“Story time,” Eva said, grinning. “My favorite.”
Vakar’s smell gained a bashful spike of green, which faded quickly. “When the quennians first began to explore space, we encountered a sapient species called the ibbyhn. This was before translator nanites were fully developed, and before we had joined any interspecies coalitions, but with time and patience we made ourselves understood.”
“What were your first-contact protocols?” Eva asked. She’d learned the basics in school, like most other humans, and had to review them when she was getting her pilot’s license, but that had been a long time ago.
“We approached cautiously, peacefully,” Vakar replied. The smell of jasmine overpowered the others as he delved into his thoughts. “Ours were among the protocols eventually adopted by other species, who had often been more aggressive, even if unintentionally. We offered knowledge and asked nothing in return.”
Eva chuckled. “Knowledge is plenty dangerous. There’s more than one way to be a colonizer.”
“Of course.” A brief fart smell of dismay. “We were more naïve then, and optimistic.”
The stars continued their slow progress above as they walked. Eva leaned closer to Vakar, even though it wasn’t remotely chilly. He reached out and took her hand absently, instinctively. It was a human gesture, not a quennian one; she smiled to think he’d internalized it over their short time together.
“So what happened to the ibbyhn?” Eva asked. “Typical first-contact problems?”
“Indeed. They had been a kind species, a communal one as the xana appear to be, their technology devoted to granting themselves easy lives where all were cared for as needed.”
“Sounds too good to be true,” Eva said. “Are you sure the quennians didn’t make this up? Bedtime story sort of shit?”
Vakar wagged his head, palps twitching. “It is possible. We are not as dedicated to storytelling as your species, but certainly we have cultures who value emotional manipulation for lesson-teaching purposes.”
“Such terrible liars,” Eva teased.
He smelled amused for a moment, then introspective again. “The ibbyhn split into factions. Some took up weapons, dissatisfied with their lives and believing that force was the tool best suited to the problem. Others defended themselves, hoping to return to the circumstances under which they had lived peacefully for so long.”