The Receiver

6 - I M P U L S E

"Have you ever wanted to punch someone so much in your life?" Iris asks.

"Yeah," I nod. "You."

Her gaze glides over to me.

"Only once or twice," I clarify with a shrug.

"Your drinks are ready," Frank calls from the kitchen.

Iris and I migrate from the couch to the barstools at the kitchen counter, where Frank squirts a dash of flavored syrup into two cups, then places them in front of us.

"No offense, Frank," Iris says, bringing the cup to her nose so she can smell it, "but you're kind of useless now."

"What're you talking about?" I ask. "He just made us delicious... what are these called?"

"Cappuccinos, miss."

"What he said."

"Yeah, but this kitchen can do everything by itself. What do we need him for?"

"He can figure out a way for me to get a message to my friends," I suggest, eyeing him. "To let them know I'm not dead."

Milo, Katz and the others haven't left my mind since leaving Lower, but I've been too distracted to look into how communication between the two cities works, if it exists at all.

"Speaking with Zander will be your best chance, Miss Rho. If you wish, I can talk to Tetra about possibly acquiring his contacts in the lower city."

I shake my head. "I doubt his techs would be willing to do me any favors. Plus, we're supposed to be keeping our tie to Lower a secret."

I let Iris take a sip first, watching as she makes a face, swallows, smacks her lips together, and then goes back in for another taste.

"Yes, of course," Frank agrees.

"I think that's bullshit," Iris says, sloshing a bit of the coffee from her cup when she sets it down. "We're not ashamed. Why should they be?"

"With respect, miss," Frank begins gently, "a cockroach isn't ashamed of being a cockroach."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" she accuses.

"It means the person ashamed of the cockroach is the one whose home it's taken refuge in."

"I was never ashamed that we had cockroaches," Iris shrugs. "Everybody had them."

I shake my head, swallowing my coffee to answer, but Frank explains before I can. "You are the cockroach, miss."

"Oh." Iris looks confused, then suddenly squares her shoulders. "Well I'm proud of that. When all of this blows away," she gestures all around, "and there's nothing left standing, we'll be the ones who survive it."

Iris raises her cup in the air and I raise mine too, just as my fist clenches so tight that my knuckles turn white and the next thing I know I'm swinging my cup into the side of her skull. It smacks into her head, making a dull clink, and the impact throws her off her stool. She falls onto the floor, cupping the side of her face with one hand where a smear of blood oozes from a shallow gash above her left eyebrow.

She looks up at me from the floor, her eyes filled with fire.

"What the hell?!" she growls.

Frank is by her side instantly, helping her to her feet. "Miss Rho must have experienced an uncontrollable impulse brought on by her neurotransmitter."

As he helps her back onto her stool, I instinctively slip off mine and move away, my eyes falling to the shattered cup and spilled coffee on the floor.