Chapter Text
She should have paid more attention to Iris’s driving. Nothing made any sense.
Maya sat in the driver’s seat of the burgundy Cutlass with the key in her hand and no clue how to get the thing to move. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and tried to remember every step that Iris had taken when trying to get the vehicle to obey her command. First she put the key in the ignition and turned it…With a low rumble, the Cutlass came to life, the lights on the dashboard illuminated, and the radio began to play more advertisements.
“Runa Hassing prides herself on her carefully crafted genetic makeup, but has steadfastly refused to disclose a full genetic report. What could she be hiding in her DNA? What else could she be hiding? …This message is paid for by the Council on Biological Advancement.”
After a few minutes of fumbling around with every lever and button, Maya figured out how to make the car lurch forward. She dared to press down the accelerator with a bit more confidence but crashed into the car parked in front of her, which set off the ear-splitting beeps and blares of the car’s alarm. She put the Cutlass in reverse only to have the same thing happen to the car behind her. At this point, there was no use worrying over any further damage she might cause, so she inched back and forth out of her parking spot, bumping into both other cars a few more times before she was free and clear on the open road.
Maya moved slowly down the road, gripping the steering wheel tightly and terrified of being too enthusiastic with her speed again. While she had the maps she studied committed to memory, relating them to real space proved to be a challenge. She meandered the streets of Bellingham to get her bearings and found more and more evidence that the glorious age of the Augments…wasn’t: buildings with boarded up windows, families living on the street, people drinking out of liquor bottles concealed in brown paper bags... She passed a building with an illuminated yellow sign with black letters that read “Pawn Shop: We Buy Gold!” Despite the late hour, the lights were still on inside. Well, she wouldn’t get much further in 1996 without any currency.
She pulled into the parking lot and didn’t bother taking the time to correct that she parked the car so that it straddled the white line between two spaces. The parking lot was empty aside from one man sitting on the hood of his car and smoking a cigarette. His eyes were fixed on the dented Cutlass as Maya opened the door and stepped outside.
“Hey, dumbass!” he called as he flicked his ashes. “Maybe get a coloring book and practice staying inside the lines.”
Maya said nothing, she only gave him a disgusted look before she slammed the door shut and rushed into the shop. Inside the shop was brightly lit by ceiling lights that hummed and flickered, with all manner of merchandise for sale: musical instruments, speaker systems, computers, and furniture. An exhausted looking man stood behind the counter, which had a glass display case full of watches and jewelry.
“You buy gold?”
“That’s what the sign says, isn’t it?”
“So gold is valuable on this planet?”
The man raised an eyebrow. “Yeah…what planet are you from where it’s not.”
“Clearly not this one.” Maya struggled to pull the ring off of her swollen finger and set it on the counter. “I need to sell this immediately.” Saavik would see the logic in this choice.
The man picked up the ring and began to examine it. “So eager to sell. If it hadn’t been stuck on your finger, I might wonder if it was stolen.”
“I’m eager because…Because my wife kicked me out, and I have nothing else.”
The man stared at her in silence for a moment. “Your…wife?”
“”Her name is Iris.”
“Right, sure. Do you want cash or credit?”
“Cash, please.”
The man busied himself with some paperwork in the back, and Maya filled the time browsing the watches in the case. “By the way, I’m trying to get to Seattle to stay with my family. Do you know how to get to the I-5 from here?”
“Seattle?” The man passed over a receipt and an envelope of cash. “They’ve still got the city under lockdown. No one’s allowed in without a special permit…or maybe if they’re an Aug.”
“You sound very sure that I’m not either.”
“Yeah, that’s because you pulled up in a car that looks like an elephant sat on it and were desperate to sell your lover’s ring, but I’ll write the directions down for you. Now is there anything else I can do for you?”
“That’s all, thanks.” Maya shoved the envelope into her jacket pocket and rushed out of the shop. The man from earlier was still there, and Maya kept her head down as she tried her best to ignore him as she opened the door and climbed back into the Cutlass. This time she felt more confident operating the vehicle…until she pressed on the gas and discovered the car was set in drive instead of reverse, and she crashed into a signpost before she could stop the car. The man with the cigarette must be laughing his head off.
She swerved through the parking lot and back to the road, now bold enough to go a little faster, but she was still on high alert with every muscle in her body tense. Each time another vehicle came close to her, she felt a jolt of panic, but when she finally reached the highway she began to relax. There were few cars on the road at this hour (but they flew by much faster than the modest speed she maintained), fewer distractions, and nothing but a long, uninterrupted stretch of pavement. Ninety miles to Seattle, she might as well sit back and try to enjoy the music of the late twentieth century.
The soundtrack of her overland journey with unfamiliar music, the likes of which she had never heard before. It piqued her curiosity, and as she sped down this lonely stretch of highway, Maya thought deeply about the ultimate fate of these songs and the artists who created them. Did they simply fade from relevance, or were they among the pieces of art and culture lost in the wars that marked this chapter of Earth’s history? Every song is heard for one last time, and every name spoken a final time…Even a name as infamous as Khan Noonien-Singh.
Her introspective thoughts faded away as she came to the end of a line of slowly moving cars, and she turned down the volume on the radio to pay attention. Ahead, the was a checkpoint with a sign overhead that read “Seattle Controlled Zone. All persons and vehicles subject to search.” The line inched forward as one car after another was cleared through the checkpoint, and Maya sank down in her seat as her heart began to race with panic. She had no identification documents and no record that she existed. All she had was her trust in Agent Carmack that her DNA would serve as her credentials.
One car remained in front of her. The driver stuck their hand out of the window and placed a finger on a glowing pad. The pad illuminated green, a guard spoke briefly to the driver, and the gate opened to allow the car through. Maya took a deep breath when she pulled up to the checkpoint and held it as she placed a trembling finger on the pad. The pad illuminated green, but the gate did not rise.
“What the…?” the guard blurted out.
“Is something wrong?” Maya tried to feign surprise.
“I’m going to need to see your license.”
“Is my superior genetic profile not enough to allow entry?” Maya tried to imitate some of the arrogant gravitas with which her father used to speak. It turned her stomach to hear such words coming from her own mouth, and she feared she laid on the act too heavily.
“It is, but I’m getting an error. You’re in the genetic database, but it’s not showing any identifying information. I still need to verify a name, city of residence, and date of birth.”
Maya took a deep breath. Using her real first name was fine with musicians who lived in rundown apartments, but this interaction required a bit more discretion. “Elise Khavari. Bellingham, Washington. September 17, nineteen fifty-eight.”
“Unfortunately, Miss Khavari, I can’t simply take you on your word.” It was clear that the guard was growing more irritated with each passing moment.
“You insult me.”
“It’s the law.”
Maya took a deep breath and shook her head. There would be no talking her way out of this. “I haven’t got one.”
“You mean you don’t have a driver’s license?”
She looked away and took a deep breath. “It was stolen.”
“Right. I’m going to need you to pull over to the left over there.” The guard pressed a button on his radio and spoke into it. “I’m gonna need backup on a full search.”
Maya hesitated, but after getting an impatient look from the guard she pulled over, maneuvering the vehicle in a lurching and awkward manner. The guard stepped out from behind his booth and walked to the driver’s side of the car, where he was joined by his partner. He leaned in close to the open window, and a slight wicked smile curled onto his face. Something about this whole ordeal seemed to give him a sense of delight.
“So. Your license was stolen. I don’t suppose the thief made off with the vehicle registration too?”
“It might be around here somewhere.”
“Open the glove compartment.”
Maya didn’t know what he meant by “glove compartment,” but she followed his eyes to the latched compartment on the right side of the dashboard and opened it. The inside of the glove compartment was just as cluttered as the rest of the car. Maya couldn’t guess what was what, so she handed over all of the contents: papers and documents, bits of trash, and a few of Iris’s personal belongings. The guard flipped through the pile and held up a clear bag full of green buds.
“You know, most people don’t hand over their drugs so willingly.”
Shit. Maya shrank back in her seat. She didn’t understand the full gravity of this situation, but the grave look on the man’s face and his accusatory tone gave her all of the clues she needed.
“I didn’t know that was in there.”
“Sure you didn’t.” He handed the pile off to his partner. “Run these.” He looked back to Maya as his partner stepped away. “What brings you to Seattle.”
“I have family here. They work for Boeing.”
“And who’s Iris Almeida?”
“My roommate.”
“Right.”
His partner returned, and he stepped away to have a few quick words. Maya couldn’t hear the beginning of their conversation, but she caught pieces of it after the partner disagreed strongly enough to raise his voice.
“...You sure you wanna do that? She’s still an Aug?”
“She’s also driving a stolen car with at least an eighth of marijuana.” He stepped back to the window. “Get out of the car.”
Another deep breath, and Maya opened the door and stepped outside. She hadn’t expected the first guard to move so quickly, grabbing her by the lower arm and trying to take her other arm to restrain her. However, Maya was faster and stronger. She whipped her head backwards to smash the back of her skull into his nose, and while he was caught off guard by the sudden pain she broke free from his grasp. He was incapacitated for now, doubled over and covering his bleeding nose with his hand, but his partner had his pistol drawn and aimed at Maya.
“Stand down!” he shouted. “I’m well within my rights to shoot, but I’m in no mood to deal with the fallout of killing an Augment.”
Maya held her hands up in a sign of defeat, and she offered no resistance as she allowed the men to handcuff her and load her into the back of a police car.