Page 98 of Even Robots Die
“Tell me when you recognize one,” Florentine says as she starts switching the pictures on the holo faster.
Christina stops her a few times to double check, but it doesn’t seem to be the same woman each time. When we reach the end and Christina still hasn’t found the right woman, I feel Florentine deflate.
“If she’s a shapeshifter, she might look in her mid-thirties and be a lot older,” I tell her to soften the blow of not finding the right woman.
“We don’t have time to look over half of the population of Paris,” Christina says, exasperated.
It’s a stark reminder that she wasn’t expecting us, and that maybe she has other things to do.
I have a feeling the only thing that makes her wait patiently is the fact she wants to know about that new weapon Florentine spoke of.
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Florentine
Iswitch the list to include all shifter women above twenty.
“Milton, can you run a facial recognition based on apparent age? Take all women that look like they’re between thirty and forty,” I say out loud.
The list triples in size, and I scroll through the pictures again.
Christina stops me many more times than with my first search and I start losing patience.
Doesn’t she have surveillance cameras? I mean, that’s how she knew I was the pain in the ass at the door.
The camera at the door.
I must have overestimated my ability to work after getting shot and the quality of rest I got, because it’s not like me to forget such crucial information.
I stop scrolling through the pictures and pull the video feed from the camera at the entrance of the catacombs in theSacré Coeur.
“Find my dad,” I mouth to Milton.
We’ve lost too much time already. I’m not going to explain every step of my process to Brice and Christina.
Once I’ve found Dad on the feed, I cross check facial features with the Interpol database and pull the picture of the woman.
“It’s her,” Christina says, and I can hear a hint of relief in her voice.
I bet you’re relieved. It will get us out of here quickly.
It’s no wonder we didn’t find her in my first search, though.
She is a shape-shifter, yes—a fox—but in her official picture she has dark brown hair and is definitely not registered in Paris. According to the Interpol file, she’s supposed to live in Napoli.
“Okay, now you’ve got her, but we don’t know where to find her,” Brice tells me, and I want to tell him immediately that it’s not the only database I can run her info through.
I have her name now, after all, and I hacked a very interesting database a few hours ago.
“We’ll find a way,” I tell him with a secret smile.
“What about this new weapon you spoke of a few minutes ago?” Christina reminds me that I promised to tell her what I knew after she answered my questions.
“They’ve built guns that propel nets. Once the nets are anchored to the ground, it discharges a heavy voltage dose. I didn’t get to find out the exact voltage because it was the early stages of the conception, so I don’t know if they’re built to knock people out or to kill. I’ve tried to find a way to get back in ever since, but it seems that they might have upped the security and the small hole I managed to slip through in their internal web last time doesn’t exist anymore. All I know is that the nets can’t electrify anything unless they’re in contact with a surface. Ground, buildings, trees, as long as it’s linked to earth, it can go off and fry anything. They’re not small nets, either. They’re building them to cover surfaces over ten square meters so anyone on the ground will find themselves at a disadvantage if they can’t run fast enough.”
When I’m done with my explanation, Brice and Christina look at me with horror in their eyes.
Knowing they’re both known to be ruthless and collected, it makes me shiver to think this is the thing that gets through to them.
