Shay gave him a death glare. Some things Peyton didn’t need to know, for both their sakes. He needed to stop pushing.
He withered under her attention. “Never mind. Sorry I asked. I just forgot for a minute that I was riding the scorpion across the river.”
“Never forget people’s true natures,” Shay muttered. “You’ll live longer that way.” She turned back to the computer.
“Um, there was actually something else I needed to talk to you about.” Peyton winced as Shay snapped her head back his way. “It’s work stuff, not personal.”
“What?” Shay barked.
“Just a weird message I got through one of your contact emails. Someone wants to meet with you, Miss Professor.” Peyton frowned. “You are still a tomb raider, right?”
Shay gave him another death glare.
Peyton threw up a hand. “Okay, okay. No need for that kind of look, just checking. Anyway, the thing is, the guy who wants to meet with you? It’s not about a tomb raiding job.”
“Then why do I give a shit?”
“I would have told him to go away, but he claimed it was government-related and sent some confirmation codes that seem to support that, like high-level top-secret-clearance shit.” Peyton shrugged. “And with all this Project Nephilim and Project Ragnarok stuff, and after what you found out about…”
“James?”
Peyton nodded. “Yeah. Well, the thing is, it’s extra-weird because the guy’s specifically asking to meet with Professor Carson, not Aletheia.”
“Huh?” Shay frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“Oh, crap. Sorry, I wasn’t clear. You know I’m filtering most stuff for you these days, but yeah, it’s a request to meet with the professor, not the tomb raider. Nothing in his message suggests he even knows about your tomb raiding activities.”
Shay frowned. “That’s weird. Maybe it’s a trap. Just because he’s acting like he doesn’t know doesn’t mean it’s true.”
“It could be, but I don’t know. It’d be a better plan to lure you out to the middle of nowhere overseas and kill you if that is what he wanted.” Peyton shrugged.
The tomb raider sighed. “Guess I need to go see who this is and what he wants. Where does he want to meet?”
“At a diner in Huntington Park.”
Shay nodded slowly. “Well, guess we’ll see what he has to say.”
A quick inspection of the outer perimeter of the diner revealed no hidden enemies or suspicious vehicles. The level of drone traffic wasn’t unusual for this part of town.
Shay stepped into the diner with a frown on her face. A dark-haired man in silver glasses and a navy-blue suit waved from a corner table, his back against the wall. Defensive seating.
Yeah, look at you, Mr. Careful. At least you’re not a total amateur.
She frowned, her hand reaching into her purse and settling on the comforting grip of her gun as she walked over to the man.
“You’re the one who wanted to meet me?” she asked.
“Yes, Professor Carson.” He gestured to a seat across from him. “Please join me. We have a few things to discuss.”
Shay noticed a small mirrored cube not larger than a die sitting on the table. “What’s that?” She pointed at it.
“A nice little trinket that lets a man have a private conversation in public. Listen carefully, and you’ll see what I mean.”
She frowned and sat. After a few seconds, she realized she couldn’t hear any background noise.
“Neat trick. Magical or technological?”
The man laughed. “Now where’s the fun in telling you that? The real fun is that when people look, our mouths movements will be randomized, so if they’re good at reading lips, they’ll understand that something’s wrong.”
“Who the hell are you?” Shay slowly pulled her hand out of her purse. This was all too elaborate for a simple assassination.
“Daniel Goldstein, and I work for the CIA.” He shrugged.
Shay laughed. “Seriously?”
He nodded with a wry smile. “Seriously.”
“I assume that’s not your real name.”
He shrugged. “For now, it is. Names in my line of business are very fluid. Were you born with that name?”
Shay ignored the question. “What does the CIA want with me? I’m not a spy.”
Daniel shook his head. “This isn’t about counter-espionage, at least not in the sense you’re thinking.”
“And what do you mean by that?”
“I’ve read some of your lectures, both your UCLA stuff and your previous stuff. You’re an expert on revised history, and you have a keen mind that sees through a lot of bullshit.”
Shay eyed the mirror cube. “Like what kind of bullshit?”
“Like the fact that everyone now believes that if you look at weirdness in history, you have to assume it’s Oricerans.”
Her stomach tightened. “And you don’t agree?”
“Let’s just say that I’ve seen enough to convince me that Oricerans aren’t the only aliens who like to mess around with Earth. Most want to stick their heads in the sand and pretend that’s not true because it just becomes scary for them after they thought they figured it all out.”
Okay, so this guy’s got a good head on him and is careful.
Shay nodded. “Uh-huh. What kind of things have you seen?”
Daniel flashed her a smile. “I need to keep a few cards close to the chest until I know I can trust you. I know you’re probably not used to that kind of thing as a professor, but in my world, trusting people can easily lead to death.”
Okay, Peyton. I have to give you major credit. You gave me a fake identity deep enough to fool a guy from the CIA.
Shay leaned forward. She couldn’t deny that she was interested. “Okay, so what does this all have to do with me?”
“The short version is that I’m putting together my own little team within the CIA using both Company and external resources. I’m concerned that not everyone in the government has the best strategy for dealing with potential extraterrestrial threats, and a lot of them are more interested in suppressing things rather than getting out in front of it. I need to help push this in a different direction.” He gestured toward her. “I’m impressed with you, and I think you’ve got
