“I am certain the Prime will be delighted to know this,” Watcher Rakyra said. “A transport will be sent to retrieve you prior to the commencement of the event, in the long hour before the Light descends into the sea.”
“So, before sunset, got it.” Eva grinned. “I’ll wear something fancy.”
Watcher Rakyra’s tail twitched in its harness. “Your enthusiasm for our humble invitation is welcome,” he said. “Please, continue to enjoy our excellent city and all its offerings.”
“Thanks, definitely,” Eva said. “Adiós.”
“Walk in the Light,” the Watcher replied, but it felt perfunctory, and when he and the other Watchers walked away, their silence was as thick as a wall.
Eva took a few steps in a random direction before stopping again, staring into a shop window without seeing its contents, thinking about the party, about the bots and the city and the government of this whole planet, held together by a fist that, if not iron, was definitely tightly clenched. And yet they’d still sent Watchers over with a replacement spy robot capsule for her crew to carry around, their own personal bug. Was Damaal worried they were going to run off to Rilia again, or even to another city elsewhere on the planet? Was she hoping they’d leave entirely and take the Ball Buddies with them, for future spying shenanigans? And what exactly were they planning with that psychic neural network tech?
Maybe she could get a little more information at the party later. And maybe, just maybe, she could finally do what she’d come for and get off Garilia in a hurry.
There was something Eva was forgetting, though, a thought she knew she’d already had, except it had slipped away with the brain fog and mom assault. She took another few steps, toward the next building over, staring at the sign over the door. It translated to “Familiar Childhood Comestibles” and seemed to have an array of products for various palates and physicalities. Nothing she recognized from her childhood; humanity had enough different cultures to begin with, and more since they had expanded off Earth, so attempts to trigger nostalgia were a gamble at best. She expected it was the same for the other species hanging around, but it was nice that someone had tried.
A commwall inside the building startled her; she hadn’t seen one elsewhere on Garilia, not even in the spaceport. It had pilfered data from her commlink—the fake data she used on her public profile—and was attempting to lure her in with promises of something called strawberry daifuku. It looked good, but it wasn’t the must-have food her persona suggested.
Funny that a place with so much surveillance doesn’t have more commwalls, Eva thought. They’ve got bugs in every damn wall . . .
Except at her mother’s place. Vakar had said it was clean. Which Eva had suspected might be the case because of BOFA regulations, hence suggesting they go there.
“What’s that look for?” Pink asked.
“What look?” Eva asked.
“Like you just got a royal flush and the dealer’s showing twos.”
Eva smirked at her eyebrow-raising co-captain. “We’re not quite there, but I think I just figured out where the queens are. Vámonos. Let’s get back to the others and see if we can’t take advantage of this hand.” Her smirk fell away like she’d dropped all her cards, and she started walking faster.
“What now?” Pink asked.
“Me cago en diez, I left Vakar alone with my mom.”
Chapter 17
Dress to Kill
Eva and Pink returned to find Min lying with Mala on the floor, Sue sitting at the dining-room table with her Pod Pal once again in pieces, and Vakar nestled inside a privacy bubble on the couch. Regina was presumably in her own room, because she wasn’t with the others, which made sense; she’d said she had work to do.
Eva checked on what Vakar had said before and confirmed: the house had no surveillance equipment in it. Not a single auditory or visual device, no stray signals, nothing but the link Regina had presumably set up to do her work. And if she was working for BOFA, they had their own methods of encrypting or scrambling the feed that few dedicated hackers could penetrate. Not to mention that spying on the person who was evaluating the planet’s compliance with regulations—the person who presumably had the ability to stop Garilia from becoming a member of BOFA—would probably be unwise.
On a hunch, Eva had managed to find them the safest place in the city to stay. Knowing that, she had to make sure she didn’t piss off her mother and get them kicked out.
Stealthily, Eva stepped into the kitchen and set the synthesizer to make her the equivalent of scrambled eggs. With any luck, Regina wouldn’t appear and demand to know why she’d gone out for breakfast only to come back and make more. Pink slid in behind her and started going through the cabinets, grabbing a cup that presumably meant she wanted her tea. She tapped her foot idly, then took over the machine as soon as Eva’s food was ready.
Min stared blankly at the ceiling, so Eva waved a hand above her. “You okay?” Eva asked.
“Missing my other body,” Min mumbled. “I’ll be fine.”
It had been a while since Min had left La Sirena Negra for this long, it was true. She’d piloted El Cucullo when Eva came back from the land of the frozen, thanks to her Fridge nap, but otherwise she rarely left for more than a few hours at a time. This particular mission had coaxed her out more than usual, at Evercon and then Abelgard, but this jaunt on Garilia had turned into a multiday affair. The remote connection Min used had plenty of range depending on their location, but here the relays were slower, less reliable.
Maybe Eva should send Min back, by herself, just for a little while. Would that be safe? No, better not to split up too much, and certainly not to have their pilot potentially stuck at the spaceport while the rest of them were swept up elsewhere. Or, god forbid, have Min be apprehended and held separately.
“I’m sorry,” Eva said, feeling acutely how useless the apology was.
“At least I have Mala,” Min said, rubbing a finger under the cat’s chin. Mala purred in response. She likely knew exactly what Min was going through, and was helping in her own psychic-cat way.
Vakar finally finished whatever he was doing and deactivated his isosphere, once again smelling like a yard full of mint that had caught fire. His palps twitched in agitation, and he was even tapping his claws together like he only did when he was extra frustrated.
“What happened?” Eva asked, plopping down next to him. He hesitated, and his smell took on a coppery, remorseful edge that she didn’t like in the slightest.
“I was speaking to my supervisors,” Vakar said quietly, staring down at his hands.
Eva tensed, fork frozen halfway to her mouth. “Mierda.”
“Indeed.”
“What did they say?”
Vakar raised his head to look at the other people in the room. “I had to inform them of my location. They were . . . displeased.”
“What’s their problem?” She paused. “Or problems, I’m guessing.”
“The distance from the nearest Gate was one of them. It hampers my ability to be relocated quickly in a crisis situation.”
“Right, pero like, too late to do anything about that,” Eva said around a mouthful of egg.