“Amma! Amma!”

Carma’s excited shout pulled Nithya from the latest Synaxel simulation results. She’d been grasping at every free minute to work, even without flow, to make up for Zeli’s absence. It took her mind off the silent treatment from Luis. He has every right to be angry at you. Be glad he didn’t file for divorce on the spot. Would he leave her? If they divorced, he could stay in Phoenix and help his father. What if he didn’t come back? What would she tell Carma? On top of all that, the ever-present threat of the Machinehood loomed. They’d attacked again, and funding around the globe had started to dry up. Welga and Connor had gotten caught up in another firefight. At least it had happened close to their home this time.

“The cake came!” Carma said.

Nithya brushed her work from her visual and exited her alcove.

Carma ran to her and twirled. “Look at my braids!” she crowed in Tamil. “Bhairavi Paatti did them!”

Slender garlands of fat, white jasmine buds wove through two braids that merged into one. Nithya leaned over and inhaled. The divine must move through jasmine. What else could explain its heady scent?

“Very nice,” Nithya said, also in Tamil. They spoke English only if Luis was around.

“A person brought the cake today. Isn’t that funny?”

Nithya tried to smile. She didn’t tell Carma that people’s paranoia about the Machinehood explained the unusual delivery method. A round cake sat on the dining table, resplendent with white frosting and a large number eight outlined in red icing roses.

“Do you like it?” Nithya asked.

“It’s so beautiful!”

“Good. Let’s keep it in the fridge until the party.”

As Nithya entrusted the cake to the kitchen WAI, Sita spoke in her ear. “You have a high-priority call request from an unknown person regarding your Synaxel database access.”

“Aiyo!” Of all the inconvenient times!

“What is it?” Aunty asked.

“Sorry, Chitthi, I have to take this call.”

“But Amma, it’s time to decorate for my party!” Carma protested.

“I’ll be quick. While you’re waiting, you can call your papa. He’s probably still awake.”

Luis owed Carma a birthday wish anyway. Let him struggle with putting on a happy face for their child, too. Nithya hurried into the alcove, turned on privacy mode, and took the call. The earnest face of a light-skinned, middle-aged man with sandy blond hair appeared in her visual. She blinked in surprise, having expected it to be the lawyer from USBGA. This was not Felix Anderson.

“Good you took the call,” this man said without any greeting.

He spoke English with an accent she couldn’t place. South American or European, perhaps.