Heart of Ice

Shhh

"I can't." Cirenne whispered.
"What can't you do!?" Conan demanded.
"Answers."
"Do you have a talking error? Shall I order a new bio component?" The slim android shook her head. She pointed to her lips then gave him a thumbs up.
"Then why can't you speak?" She flipped around her hands and fingers in a few different gestures.

'Do you understand sign language?'

Conan nodded.
"I do."

'I'll be going now. There's an android upstairs that no one has checked up on yet. I've been detecting faint traces of thirium from there.'

"I'll go too." The RK900 decided.

'You're needed downstairs, RK900.' She signed, a firm expression on her face. Cirenne turned away and headed to the stairs. Conan was about to consider her request but fortunately, his strong programming managed to overcome the error.

He followed her soundlessly as she moved upstairs. There was a sturdy wall that the RK900 managed to lean against to hide himself from the other android. He heard a soft click and he slowly moved his face to see the machine which was shifting through the different tools of a pocket knife.

When she got to one particular blade, the tall, female android began making small slices on her wrists. She was then slipping the thirium off her wounds with two fingers which she smeared onto the unmoving android's lips. Afterwards, she gave herself another slice and turned her wrist to face the corrupted android's clothes, letting the blue liquid sluggishly drip down, creating small dots on the fabric.

I knew it.

Her expression was so emotionless. She didn't seem to care that she was damaging herself for some... for something Conan didn't even understand. She turned her torso slightly and that was enough for the RK900 to make out the symbols on the rim of her shirt.

PRS23. That's why she didn't want to tell her model number. She's not just any android.

He swiftly hid back behind the wall so that she didn't see him. The slim PRS23 carefully stood up, soon walking towards Conan's cover.

Conan suddenly grabbed at Cirenne's long, lab coat. When she was close enough, he reached his other hand to her shirt and pulled the bottom rim of it up.

"PRS23. That's your model number?" She didn't answer. "SPEAK UP!!"
"You are absolutely correct. What am I supposed to hide at this point? You know everything you want to know." Was that a bluff? The RK900's audio processors started to malfunction.

What's going on?

"What are you doing here?" He continued.
"Of course my model number is PRS23. It's PRS23. It lines up perfectly with everything you needed."

"Everything you need you know is right here. I'm the evidence. You're winning. You're doing great."

Conan's grip started to loosen on the android and his body didn't want to obey him.

siren
ˈsʌɪr(ə)n/Submit
noun
noun: siren; plural noun: sirens; noun: greater siren; plural noun: greater sirens
1.
a device that makes a loud prolonged signal or warning sound.
"ambulance sirens"
synonyms:    alarm, alarm bell, warning bell, danger signal; More
whistle, horn;
hooter;
archaictocsin
"the wail of an air-raid siren"
2.
GREEK MYTHOLOGY
each of a number of women or winged creatures whose singing lured unwary sailors on to rocks.
a woman who is considered to be alluring or fascinating but also dangerous in some way.
synonyms:    seductress, temptress, femme fatale, Mata Hari, enchantress, Circe, Lorelei, Delilah; More
flirt, coquette, Lolita;
informalmantrap;
informalvamp, hoochie
"seamed stockings are the trademark of a true siren"