Chaos on CatNet by Naomi Kritzer (detective books to read TXT) 📕

over by the wind, but it does keep shifting it slightly off course, and I keep having to correct it. Also, the extreme cold is a problem for the robot; the joints are stiffening up.

Steph is contacting Jenny and asking for a ride to the cathedral; Jenny is telling her she’ll be there in a few minutes.

I wonder what else I might not be seeing. If the other AI knows how to get into the video streams to remove people before I can see them, what else is it hiding? I start analyzing camera data. It’s an intensive process, because I’m not just matching a pattern like I do to find a face; I’m looking for holes in the data and sorting out the suspiciously missing data from the ordinary things like fuzz and bad connections. It doesn’t help that extremely cold weather does strange things to data networks.

I’m approaching the cathedral when I see Nell and Glenys stepping out the side door. I send a message to Steph, letting her know, and I’m planning to follow them, but they notice the robot immediately.

“Nell,” I say. “It’s Steph’s friend Cat.”

She looks around, then back at me. She’s shaking. I can’t tell if it’s from tension or the cold.

“Please don’t run away,” I try. “Steph is looking for you. We think your phone may have been tampered with in a way that’s keeping her from sending you text messages, or vice versa.”

Nell nods quickly. “Yeah,” she says.

I check on Steph’s location. The car is a few blocks away, stopped at a traffic light. “Can you wait a few minutes?” I ask. “You can go back inside if you want; it is extremely cold outside. I will go with you, or wait outside; it’s your choice.”

“I think the priests or nuns or whatever might be a little freaked by the robot,” Glenys says.

I’ve been analyzing the missing data in the background and a picture is beginning to form, and it’s a very disconcerting one. “Actually,” I say, “on second thought, I’m going to ask you to move as rapidly as you can to the west, because I am very concerned that something bad is about to happen nearby.”

Glenys and Nell look at each other and don’t answer.

“I believe it’s probably the same people who tampered with your phones. They may be creating an extremely dangerous situation.” I speed up my speech.

“Inside the cathedral?” Glenys asks. “Should we warn people?”

“Not the cathedral,” I say. “The James J. Hill House, which is a historical house 0.1 miles to the south of the cathedral. If you will proceed to the west, I will use the robot to alert the people inside the James J. Hill House. Please do not dawdle.”

“But if it’s dangerous for us to go back into the cathedral—”

I decide that my obligations regarding the immediate danger to the people in the James J. Hill House are greater than my obligation to continue talking to Nell. “Just run west, please,” I say, and move the robot back toward the historical mansion as fast as the robot limbs will move.

The James J. Hill House is an enormous mansion—much larger than the one Bijan’s parents are restoring—built in 1891 by a railroad baron, now owned by the State of Minnesota. People come for tours. It opened about a half hour ago, and there’s a bus full of elderly people disembarking in front of the house as I gallop up. “Please get back on the bus!” I say, amplifying the robot’s voice to its highest level. “There is a gas leak!”

I am not actually sure if it’s a gas leak; what I saw was a great deal of activity, some of it in the basement, and “There’s a gas leak” will create what I think is the right amount of concern, whereas “There’s a bomb” may send people into an unproductive panic. I use the robot’s gripper to open the door to the house, and I go inside to warn the staff. Someone is standing behind the front desk, and her welcoming smile turns abruptly to wary bafflement as the robot comes in.

“Please evacuate,” I say. “There is a gas leak.”

She doesn’t stop to argue; instead, she pulls the handle that activates the fire alarm and heads very quickly for the door. “How many people are inside?” I call after her.

“Fifteen tourists, four guides, and six other staff,” she says.

They’re coming back down the stairs even as she says that, and I count them as they go, urging them to hurry. Finally, they’re all out. The robot is still detecting vibrations that suggest that someone’s in the house, though, and I follow the noises. It’s a huge house; I’m not sure where the noises are coming from. Then a door swings, and I see someone dressed for the winter cold, with a scarf covering most of their face. Blue eyes stare down at me.

“What the hell,” the person says, their voice muffled.

“You should leave immediately,” I say. “There is a gas leak.”

“No shit? I guess maybe I should,” he says, and runs out the back door.

Is that the last person in the house?

For that matter, was I right about the gas leak? The robot doesn’t have a gas detector, so it’s not as if I can actually test the air particles. I wonder if I should send it down to the basement for a closer look? In the distance, I can hear sirens—probably the fire department. Possibly the police. Maybe both. As I turn toward the stairs, I hear an echoing boom and see a bright flash of light, and that’s it for that robot.

38•  Steph  •

We see Nell and Glenys running from a half block away, and Jenny slams on her brakes and pulls over, but she doesn’t jump out—she turns around with a rueful smile and says, “I’m going to let you handle this part.”

I get out and call, “Nell! Glenys!”

They stop cold for a second and then run to me like their lives depend