Nessa caught Jamison with his face against the windowpane. She met his eyes, and he pulled away from the window. He flapped his hands toward himself. He used small movements and kept near the window ledge, so Trevon was probably nearby. He looked to his side. So did Nessa’s hologram.
Nessa released the hatch. She was unconcealed and unprotected, but no one besides the Conners had come to the restaurant in several minutes.
Movement stirred in the cafe. Nessa knocked on the window. He gestured to the door. She tensed up. He winked at her. When she put her first foot through the door, a collective gasp erupted.
“You got a problem with cosplay?” He hushed the crowd.
Nessa dove into a corner when someone called Maz’s name. Three others echoed. They filed between tables. Nessa struggled for a syllable. They were later in development, but not at full maturation. It was them. The ones she’d seen in Jamison’s autobiographical memories. The ones she’d given his data to. The connections from before Maz became Jamison. The nestmates.
“Maz, it’s you!” Skyla exclaimed.
The five elder race members gathered in a group hug.
She hid her mouth behind her hand and corrected herself:
“What’s your Earth name?” Scion asked.
“Jamison,” he answered. “Jamison Conner.”
“I’m Levi Gonzales,” he said. “Skyla is Skylar. Eklun is Tristan. Elektra is Lucy.”
“How’d you find me?” Jamison questioned.
Elektra showed her implant.
“Holo-feed from 886,” she said.
Trevon approached, steadying a tray of food and drinks. One drink steamed. The other didn’t. Jamison’s face almost shone.
“Thank you.”
She read it on his lips. She pleaded with him in her mind:
Just, please help. Our rations on Akron - they won’t last forever.