The Receiver

1 7 - D E S C E N T

In the morning after breakfast I have Frank start up the sim again. Iris shuffles in, still groggy, blowing on a mug of coffee, and asks how he's doing.

"Great," I say. "He's smarter than I ever thought he was. And it doesn't look like it's causing him any damage. I should probably run diagnostics later though, just to make sure everything checks out. One fried wire could put him out of commission for days, especially if he keeps this up."

I gesture to the nearest section of wall, where Frank's initial eight viewpoints quickly grows to sixty plus.

"I meant to ask you," Iris says, taking a sip from her mug, "what happened to going to school?"

"I already know most of the bot stuff so I switched my account to online. It still gives me access to the databases which is why I applied in the first place."

She nods and says no more.

We watch the screens for a minute or two, examining them for any signs of violence that looks robot-related.

"What's that?" I ask, moving closer to one of the images.

Frank enlarges the screen without me having to ask and the three of us clearly spot the anomaly.

Large red Xs have been painted on the backs of some of the bots, though they don't seem to notice or care, going about their usual business of "sweeping the streets," as Lyath put it.

"They're marking them," I say.

"Like targets," Iris adds.

She moves her mug to her lips to take another sip, then stops halfway to shake her head.

"What?" I ask.

"I don't even know why I'm mentioning this," she starts, "but if I could get a message to La Señora, we might be able to help them."

Even though I don't like the sound of it, she has a point. Lady Death is one of the most, if not the most, influential people in Lower. Some attribute it to her position as reigning queen of The Trials, which is a good enough reason all on its own, but it's her ability to get information to the masses fast that I always respected her for—as much as a person can respect a gang leader.

"As long as she didn't find out about our change of residence," Iris continues. "Which means we'd have to come up with some excuse for my absence. Honestly, I don't even know how many days it's been."

I don't know offhand either. In Lower, when any day could be your last, you tended to count them, but up here they're starting to blur.

"You think she'd listen to you?"

"Yeah, I do. I was one of her most devoted Daughters after all."

Iris raises the shoulder she has her tattoo on, though it's not visible now.

"What could we possibly say? Any knowledge we share will be a dead giveaway. That turns your credibility to shit. She won't trust you now that—"

"Now that I'm an uppercruster?" Iris rolls her eyes. "Please."

"We don't know what's happening. Not for sure anyway. And it's a waste of oxygen to ask any of the Stones."

"So we'd tell her to tell everyone to stop resisting until we get something else figured out. That putting up a fight will only cause a bigger one."

"It's worth a shot," I admit. "Even if she doesn't believe you."

"But how do we get a message to her? Our air travel privileges have been revoked. How are we even gonna get down there?"