The Receiver

2 1 - T W I N

Tetra walked us right into a trap. My stomach sinks to the floor.

The bots, at least eight feet tall, wear metallic suits that cover their body plates. Synthetic skin gives them the hard expressions of pissy drug lords. Their biceps alone are thick as tree trunks.

"Uh oh," Katzan breathes behind me.

Before anyone makes a move, I slip my fingers into my pocket and tighten my hand around the small light I've used on dozens of bots before. It's far from a weapon, but it's the only useful gadget I have on me.

"Funny," Zoa says. "You don't look like the maintenance crew."

I can tell from the way her arms are crossed and her head is tilted to the side that she's enjoying this. She loves that she knew we would be here, loves that she has the authority to kick us out, and loves that she has two bots the size of grizzly bears standing on their hind legs to protect her if we refuse to comply.

"How did—" Zander begins.

"A bot is loyal to its coding," Zoa interrupts, eyes flashing to Tetra, "not its coder."

She slowly approaches the robot, holding out her open palm.

"Where is it?" Zoa spits.

"Miss?" Tetra asks.

"Don't. play. dumb," Zoa says, pronouncing each word. "Or I will drag you up to the roof and open you with a rusty hammer to find it."

Tetra's bottom arms, crosses behind her back, remain motionless, but her top set begin twisting off her middle finger. Maybe I'm just reading into it, but it definitely looks like she's flipping Zoa off by the way she holds the finger straight up in the air as she hands it over.

"Tetra will stay with me so I can run a full diagnostic," Zoa says, plucking the finger from the robot's grip. "As for the rest of you..." She eyes Katz and Milo up and down. "You can head back home. Wherever that may be."

Zoa takes Tetra by the arm and escorts her out the door, her heels clacking staccato-like. As the four of us divide down the center, parting as they pass through, I steal a glance at Zander to gauge his expression, see if he's still game. We knew this was a possibility, but I wouldn't be surprised if he tried to bail on me now.

We all turn back to the two Robocops Zoa left behind. They just stand beside each other, shoulder to shoulder, staring at us like brain-dead gorillas.

"I think this means your services are no longer necessary," Zander says.

Without replying, the bots each hold out their right hand, revealing two palms full of tiny silver discs like the loose coins people used to pay for things with.

Before the four of us have time to react, the bots throw the coins straight at us, covering us all in whipping crackles of electricity. To my left, one lands on Zander's left cheek and sticks there, a web of icy blue light spidering across his skin. Immediately, the heat spreads across my face, a white-hot shock of pain. Zander is confused for a second, then slaps a hand to his cheek, scraping at his skin, trying to pry it off. Behind me, Milo and Katzan are in similar situations, with one in the center of Milo's chest and another on Katz's clavicle.

When Zander finally gets the stinger off my pain ebbs instantly. I glance back at the bots, wondering how it was possible they missed me. Then I look down and realize they didn't.

One of the discs is stuck to my leg, but I don't feel anything. Not at first. In the same moment that I think my legs must be impervious to the electrical current, my knees buckle and I fall forward. The same second my palms smack the floor Zander runs at them, taking the one standing nearest us. From the floor I flash the light in the direction of the bots' vision sensors while Zander goes straight for the stomach, using his fists. I hear Katz and Milo groaning in pain behind me.