Maite opened her eyes. It was dark and for a moment she wondered if, somehow, she had messed up and this time she had truly died. But as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she started to make out a face hovering over her. It was Kepa, looking down at her and smiling.
“You did it.”
Maite gave him a weak smile. But before she could respond, images of Catalina’s life and death flashed through her mind. Her body shivered uncontrollably. Kepa, thinking she was cold, pulled of his jacket and wrapped it around her body.
“It’s ok,” he said. “You’re safe.”
Maite pushed herself up so that she was sitting, Kepa to her side, bent over on his knees.
“What happened, after I got…”
“Shot?” finished Maite. She paused. “Not yet. I’m not ready to talk about it.”
Kepa simply nodded. He remembered how hard it had been for Maite when Donny McCowen had shot him. He assumed that she was upset about him being shot again, this time leaving her alone to find the zatia.
Maite stood and looked around. It had gotten dark, which puzzled her as she thought they usually returned to the same time they had left. It hadn’t been quite dark when they touched the zatia.
“How long have I been out?” she asked.
“A couple of hours,” replied Kepa. “You were breathing, but it seemed like you were in a deep sleep.”
“Almost like a coma,” murmurred Garuna from deep in her mind. “Like a medically induced coma. You are welcome.”
Maite’s blood started to boil. Her fists clenched as her face contorted in anger. “What the hell did you do?” she shrieked.
Kepa took a step back. “I didn’t…” he began.
Maite sighed, all of the anger released at once. She nearly collapsed, but Kepa rushed to her side, keeping her from falling.
“Not you,” she said, looking up at him. “The damn AI.”
“You needed rest,” replied Garuna. “I made sure you got some. If you over tax your body, I’ll die too.”
“Great,” she muttered to herself. “I’ve got a built-in nanny.”
Maite leaned on Kepa’s shoulders and looked out beyond the water. The city, Donostia, was so beautiful. The lights from the apartments facing La Concha reflected off the rippling water. She could hear the faint sounds of people in the streets, enjoying the pintxos, zuritos, and kalitxikis. A wave of jealousy washed over her. It felt like she would never enjoy another day in her life.
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