Luciana stayed silent.
“I can’t say I blame them, though,” Cora continued. “Two meteorites landing in the same spot in the course of a month makes me think that maybe we should start thinking of shacking up in a cave, too. What do you think?”
Luciana shrugged, paused her game, and at last looked at Cora. “I think the conspiracy crazies are having a good week, and you need to stop listening to talk radio.”
“I wasn’t listening to talk radio,” said Cora, offended at the insinuation. “But I was thinking, it does lend some credibility to Nils.”
“What does?”
Cora blinked, her worry deepening. This was international news. Half of Southern California was searching for fallout shelters to die in, and Luciana wouldn’t even look up from Oblivion. “Lu, a second celestial object just fell from the sky in almost the exact same spot as a nearly identical one did a month ago.”
“Yeah, and who knows how long Nils was sitting on the Fremda Memo?” said Luciana. “He only released it after the Altadena Event to make it seem like the two things were connected to give legitimacy to his leak. It doesn’t mean that they are connected.”
Nils had leaked a few days after the Fremda Memo that the Altadena Event had a CIA code name, “Ampersand,” which had been colloquially adopted by everyone, even mainstream outlets. Cora found it a little odd that Luciana still called it by its old name.
“So if it’s not alien invaders, what is it?”
Luciana shrugged. “Downed satellite? I have no idea, but if I were an alien, I would not conspicuously crash my ship in the mountains next to one of the biggest cities in the world.”
“Right,” said Cora. It was fantastical, and there was no official explanation from any authorities other than “This is a meteor,” which was the current line for both of them. It was frightening, and in times of uncertainty, it was natural to believe something fantastical, but in the end, Luciana was probably right. Occam’s meteor—the simplest explanation is probably the correct one. “Well, I tried to call you after it happened. I was kind of freaked out.”
“Oh, sorry. I had my phone off.” Luciana pulled out her BlackBerry and turned it on. “It’s just that with that article Nils released today—”
The phone in the kitchen rang, and Cora moved to answer it.
“Don’t,” said Luciana. “It’s probably the press. You don’t want to give a comment.”
Cora froze, pulling her hand away from the phone as if it were an electric fence. “The press?”
“Yeah, that’s another reason I’ve had my phone off. Just lie low; with a second Altadena Event, they’ll probably move on quickly.”
“About that,” said Cora, picking up Thor and hugging him tightly. The little dog emitted a beleaguered “urrf.” “I think that article Nils published today caught some attention, because I’m pretty sure some guys were spying on me before the meteor hit. There was a black Town Car following us this morning. Demi said it wasn’t the first time.”
“Oh,” said Luciana. For the first time since Cora had gotten home, Luciana finally seemed to be taking something seriously. “That’s … new.”
“Two guys. Followed us all the way to Kaiser, then right before lunch, I saw the car on the roof of the parking garage.”
“Are you sure it was the same car?”
“Yeah, it didn’t have a front plate, which is, you know, weird. Did you read the article?”
“Yes. That ass.” Luciana shook her head. “Unbelievable. I’m sorry he’s trying to drag you into this.”
Cora put her dog down and crossed her arms. “You still haven’t told me what you’re doing here.”
Luciana gestured toward Monster Truck, who, on cue, rolled onto her back in anticipation of incoming belly rubs. “I promised Felix I’d play Soulcalibur with him, so I decided to swing by early.”
Luciana unpaused the game. A jealous Thor nudged himself between Luciana and Monster Truck, wedging his nervous little head under Luciana’s armpit as though he were acting in agreement that, yes, there was nothing more interesting in this world than Thor, dog of questionable ancestry. The Soulcalibur excuse, however, was an obvious front; Luciana was doing the Ortega Thing of lying by omission. Luciana’s presence in Cora’s house might have any number of causes, but she figured since “These Disparate Lives” didn’t mention Luciana, it was probably the meteor.
“Are you hiding from the feds again?” asked Cora.
“I am hiding from the possibility of the feds.”
Cora looked through the window, thinking she heard something approaching, but it looked only to be a delivery boy on a moped. Luciana had her own struggles where Nils’s international man of mystery was concerned; the official reason they had given Luciana for firing her was “time card fraud,” but everyone knew that the real reason was that being related to Nils Ortega was not a great thing to be for someone with a job that required government clearance. Cora and her immediate family had it bad, but Luciana had gotten it way worse. At one point over the summer, there had been an entire week when Luciana had disappeared. Luciana said she wasn’t allowed to talk about it.
“Won’t they be too busy with the meteor to bother with you?” asked Cora.
Luciana chuckled and ran her fingers through her thick mop of copper hair. Cora sometimes found it hard to believe that she was Nils’s sister and not some foundling; Nils’s features had favored his German side, tall and pale, while Luciana had taken after her father, olive-skinned and petite. “They always find time for me. They were at my door within about three hours of the Altadena Event. Like zombies, hungry for brains and moaning, ‘CIA.’”
“Wait, CIA?”
Luciana shrugged. “It’s a CIA thing. I dearly hope that’s not who was following you.”
“I thought CIA wasn’t allowed to investigate domestic … citizens,” said Cora. She couldn’t help but get a little nervous at their mention. Before Nils had left for good, he had always had a particular hatred for the CIA and their history of covert abuses of power, and Cora couldn’t help but internalize some of that. “Nils said their whole raison d’être was every country besides this one. If we’re being spied on, it should be FBI or NSA.”
Luciana shrugged. “Well, first, CIA involvement doesn’t preclude any other agencies. Second, Nils isn’t domestic. He’s committing espionage against the U.S. government from a foreign country. Ergo, he is a CIA matter.” She looked at Cora, her expression finally changing into something like sympathy. “You okay?”
Cora pursed her lips. “I think he’s challenging me.”
“Who, Nils?”
“Yeah. With this last article. It felt … pointed.”
“Well, of course it was pointed. He has never mentioned you before.”
“No, I mean, the uh …” Cora wrinkled her nose in disgust. “The ‘I hope they join me’ bit.”
“He’s challenging all of us.”
Cora huffed. “No, I mean me. Specifically me.”
“Why?”