Page 93 of Even Robots Die
Because my daughter sparked a revolution.
She wanted revenge, and she went big. That’s how she managed to kill the archangel Michaël and severely wound the archangel Gabrielle.
It was more than a month ago, and no new Michaël has been appointed since, and Gabrielle still hasn’t woken up from her coma.
Most of Paris hopes she never does.
But the archangel Raphaël has taken over ever since. Paris is on lockdown. People can’t circulate freely. Humans and shapeshifters alike are getting arrested for no reason, and people are either hiding in fear or acting in the shadows.
I’ve been stuck in Blois since I woke up from my coma—minus my attack on Elhyor—but I know Elhyor is organizing things so we’re all ready for the day we take the birds down.
I just can’t be part of the organization effort for now. Cassiopé still keeps me updated, but it’s not the same.
Which brings us here. Where I know we will find the entrance to the human part of the revolution.
They’re the ones who have the most to lose in this war—it can only be called that—because if we don’t overthrow the birds, I have a feeling their next step is to enslave the humans.
Double checking that no one is around, we enter theSacré Coeurand Florentine heads directly to an unassuming door.
She doesn’t even try to open the door, she just looks up and smiles.
“Christina, find someone to open this door. We have things to discuss,” she enunciates loudly in front of what I assume is a camera hidden at the top of the wall.
Nothing happens for a minute and Florentine gets annoyed. She starts pacing and then stops. She resumes pacing, and then stops in front of the door again.
“If you don’t open for me right the fuck now, I take down all your electronics,” she says with a dark smile.
“You can do that?” I ask, a bit taken aback.
“You think I can rewrite your brain, but me shutting down all of their electronics is what surprises you?” she asks with an unimpressed look.
“The catacombs run under the whole city, that would be a lot.”
“Maybe … but guess who updated their entire system three years ago?” she asks me with a bright smile that’s definitely forced. “You hear that, you dumbass in front of your screen? I own everything electric in the catacombs. You see that digital lock on the door to your office? What if I simply, turned it off? Do you think it would get stuck closed or open? How long would it take for someone to find you there, knowing that I can also turn off your holo reception?”
When she’s focused on something, Florentine is scary. I’ve only ever seen her use this type of focus for me until now, but seeing her like this, I want to drop at her feet and worship at the altar of the terrifying goddess that she is.
When nothing happens for a few seconds, I hear her say, “Milton, you know what to do.”
I know she’s talking out loud for the sake of whoever is in front of the screen watching us, because I’ve seen her mouth things without uttering a single sound. I know her AI can hear her perfectly, even if no human—or even bat—ear can.
It takes exactly three seconds before the door opens after that.
“What did you do?” I ask.
“Me? Nothing,” she says with a wicked smile.
I raise an eyebrow in question.
“I may or may not have turned all his screens black and locked him in his little room,” she says with a shrug.
“Turn the feed back on,” the man who just opened the door orders.
He’s in his mid-fifties—human years—and is bald. His dark blue eyes are swallowed by glasses that are there more for decoration than real view amelioration, and I can barely see his mouth when he talks with the size of his beard.
“Since you asked so politely,” she says with a saccharine smile.
She mouths something and then adds, “It’s done. Now, bring us to Christina.”
