She smiles back. No teeth. Tight lips.
“Why don’t you grab yourself another one? So I don’t have to drink alone.” I don’t know what Flicka is up to, but whatever it is, it’s more than I have going at the moment. And she’s the only person in this room on my side.
“So now you’re suddenly amicable and in the mood to listen?” she says.
I shrug. Then frown. Then say—through gritted teeth just to maintain my antagonistic nature and not tip her off that something is up—”What choice do I have?”
She stares at me, still suspicious, then leans back in her chair and waves a hand at the nearest cyborg. “Get me a drink.”
“You don’t have a lot of bedside manner, do you, Veila?”
“Meaning what?”
“You know. You catch more bees with honey and shit like that?”
She squints her eyes at me, then relaxes. “Interesting proverb.”
“Something my mom used to say.”
“Well, you got it wrong. It’s flies, not bees. Not surprising since you named your ship Big Dicker and you got that wrong too. But I feel like this is a good place to start our switch to cordial conversation.”
“My ship?” I say. And this time when I grit my teeth, it’s not for show.
“No, your mother.”
“Right,” I say, leaning back in my chair. “Queenie was her ship and you were… what? Her best friend?”
“No,” Veila says. “But I did know her. I could tell you about her, if you’d like.”
I would like that. Very much. But whatever I learn about my mother, I don’t want it to come from Veila. So I say, “No, thanks. I’ll pass.”
“She grew up on Earth,” Veila says, taking the drink the cyborg is holding out to her. “But you already knew that. Do you know where Earth is?”
“No,” I say, staring at her glass as she raises it to her lips. Willing her to take a sip so we can get this show on the road.
Veila sets her glass back down without taking a sip. “No one does.”
I meet Veila’s gaze and hold it.
“Do you know why?”
“Obviously I don’t, Veila. I’m not really interested in my mother right now. I’m more concerned with your plans for Delphi and me. We’re people, not animals. You don’t breed people.”
“You do when a race is going extinct.”
I laugh. “There’s billions of Akeelians and even more Cygnians. So… not gonna fly”
“Billions of half-breed Cygnians, you mean. There’s very few pure pink and silver Cygnian princesses. We are the pure ones, Jimmy. It’s our duty to reproduce with you and bring our true races together again.”
“You know, from my experience, species of animals, and probably races of people, die out for a reason.”
“What reasons?”
I shrug. “Bad evolutionary reproductive strategies. Bad luck. Or maybe they’re just too dangerous to be left alone and someone decides they’ve had enough.”
“Is that why you think our bloodlines were eradicated?”
“I have no clue.”
“You should. Your AI did it.”
“If you’re trying to shock me with this information, you can stop now. I already know what ALCOR did.”
“And you approve?”
“I don’t have all the facts, so I just don’t have an opinion.”
“Do you want all the facts?”
“Not if you’re just going to use them to justify what’s happening here.”
“Hmm,” she murmurs.
Just take a fucking sip of that drink already.
Even though I don’t want to, I take a sip of mine to try to get things rolling. She watches me carefully. Then raises her glass to her lips and takes a sip as well.
Thank the fucking sun.
She sets the glass down, folds her hands on the table, and leans forward. “Here is my offer. You help me have children and I’ll not only give you access to your brother, I’ll tell you everything I know about Earth.”
“First of all,” I say, holding up one finger. “Access to my brother? Fuck you. And second of all”—I hold up another finger—“you just admitted you don’t know where Earth is, so I give no fucks at all about your opinion of the place.”
“OK,” she says. She takes a deep, deep breath and I notice that a sweat has broken out on her forehead. “You’d like to renegotiate. I’ll play along. I will let you take your brother home after we find his one true mate and he gets her pregnant. And I’ll throw in Tycho as well.”
I stare at her, looking for signs of dragonbee bot poisoning. She is sweating profusely now. And her breathing has picked up.
“Not good enough?” she says, starting to cough. “Fine. I’ll give you one more secret to sweeten the pot.” Her hand goes to her throat as she struggles to inhale, but not let it show.
“What secret?” I whisper, leaning even farther forward. Just waiting for her to drop dead, or fall over, or whatever the fuck is going to happen next.
“You have a twin, Jimmy. I bet ALCOR didn’t tell you this, did he? Your mother was a silver. Silver Cygnians are pure and our Cygnian princesses can only have twins. Your twin has been with me for a very long time.” Veila coughs again. And now it’s very clear that something is wrong, because she’s swaying in her chair and several cyborgs rush over to hold her up.