Chapter Text
snakeBytes has started a new group chat with jadedObstetriatic and listlessAdvocate
sB: Hey, has anyone heard from Chixie today?
jO: Sorry, haven't heard from her.
sB: We're supposed to plan our next one-on-one practice and she hasn't been answering my texts.
lA: I haven’t heard from her either.
jO: She mentioned she had some solo work lined up this month. Maybe she's still working?
sB: Okay. I'll reach out to her tomorrow.
lA: Give us a ping when she messages you.
sB. Will do. Talk to you later.
snakeBytes has left the conversation
jadedObstetriatic and listlessAdvocate have left the conversation
*
You’re Mallek. It's been a few nights since the Angel Fish performance. You're chilling in your hive and playing video games on your Husktop. You spend several hours doing this. A small mountain of empty cookie packages lie next to your keyboard.
More hours pass. It's almost sunrise. The empty cookie package pile grows.
You're about to call it a night. You stand, stretch your arms, turn to your bedroom. That's when you feel your palmhusk vibrate in your hoodie pocket. You take it out and look at the message.
Incoming message from encrypted sender:
‘Meet me in the sewer under your building immediately. Come alone.”
*
You take off the manhole cover and climb down the slimy sewer ladder. Papina is in a shadowy end of the sewage walkway, overlooking a stream of acidic rain water flowing quickly away.
She steps into the moonlight when she sees you climbing down the ladder. She's a little thinner than you last remember her, and she’s paler, her skin an ashen hue from its previous bright white-gray. Her right arm is in a rough, simple cast. It makes your blood pusher squeeze in your chest seeing her like this.
“What happened to your arm?”
Papina barely glances at her arm. "There was a run in with a drone. It's not important right now."
"It looks like more than a run-in," you say, stepping closer to examine. "And the bandages really need changing. Let me help you with that first and then you tell me what's wrong?"
Papina tilts her body to the side, moving her cast away from you. "We need to focus. There are more pressing issues I need your help with right now."
The motion causes one of the bandages to unwrap a bit. You reach out to her, intending to help stick it back in place.“Those can wait. We should really get this fixed first–”
"Please don't touch me. Listen, what I need–"
Your hand is almost touching her arm. "Papina–"
“Don’t touch me.”
She jumps away from you into the corner, the back of her shirt sticking to the sticky brick wall. Her good arm is posed in front of her chest defensively. She looks at you, eyes wide and alert, like a cornered animal.
Ice forms in your gut as you take in her scared, resilient form. You back away from her, hands held up placating. "Sorry, I’m so sorry, that wasn’t cool,” you say. “I’ll listen to you.”
Papina stays like this for another moment before relaxing, but still keeping her distance from you. She digs around in her skirt pocket and takes out her palmhusk.
"Rubeen has been doing solo pickups while I'm healing. He isn't supposed to. We always do a buddy system, but he's stupid and stubborn and did it anyway."
She visibly swallows, and her voice becomes lilting, like she’s trying not to cry. "Three nights ago he goes out on a solo pickup. Like an idiot. He doesn't come back. We find out it was never received by anyone. He never made it there. And then today this pops up on the Lowblood social media feeds."
Papina taps her palmhusk to live and shows it to you. A video is playing on it. Ardata is laughing next to a cage with Rubeen in it. You stomach plummets.
"People say you know her,” says Papina. “I need you to help me get him back alive."
*
snakeBytes has started a conversation with astoundingAzure
sB: Hello.
sB: We need to talk about your latest promotional video.
aA: Well, HELLO to you too!
aA: It has been far too long.
aA: I mean, I understand needing a night to absorb my genius, but reaching out after WEEKS to take up my business offer? Simply insane.
sB: I’m not here for that. I want to talk about the video.
aA: What did you want to say about it? I have to say it is some of my best work yet. It captured a lot of emotion, such…pain.
sB: We need to talk about the troll in it. You need to let him go.
sB: Please.
aA: That's also what the majority of Lowbloods who comment on my videos say. Must be a popular joke going around!
sB: I’m not joking. You have to release him right away.
aA: Okay, now I know you’re joking. Because that is one of the most ridiculous things that anyone has ever said to me. Why would I ever consider doing that?
sB: I’m willing to pay you for his release.
aA: Ha! No.
aA: Do you have any idea how much attention this Lowblood has gotten for my channel? My fans are practically frothing at the mouth for his guest appearance. And the Lowbloods love him – I expect 40% of my views to come from them.
aA: He must have been someone really important before I discovered him. Shame he won’t get to be someone anymore after next week’s show.
sB: If you don’t want money and you won't release him, then what do you want for not killing him?
aA: Wow, you are persistent on this! I wonder why…
aA: I guess I could maybe fake his death on the show and release him to you. I’ve done it before, but only once, and that was a huge exception. He’ll have to bleed though – I can’t have a successful show at this point without some form of violence.
aA: Lucky for you, there are one or two things that are still advantageous for me to receive from you.
aA: The first is for you to take up my original business offer. We would need to tweak some things, make things more in my favor of course, but still a great deal all around.
sB: Not happening. What else do you want?
aA: The other, and only other thing, I want from you is simple. I hear he has a matesprit.
aA: She’s incredibly popular among her crowd. If you can’t give me your business, then I would be willing to do a trade of sorts – get me her, and I’ll give you him.
sB: …Could you trade me for him instead?
aA: You’re still so new to this. I forget how stupid you can be.
aA: My fans are mostly Highbloods. They don’t enjoy seeing one of their own killed. It needs to be a Lowblood – someone they can feel good about watching their demise.
aA: There is an honor, almost a culture to their violence. It is how they create a sense of power and control in a world where, when you really look at it, they don’t really have much of it.
sB: Could I pay you or something to delay the show to later? I need more time to think about this.
aA: And break my bi-weekly Wednesday schedule? Never! I have a reputation to maintain.
aA: Also, need I remind you that I cater to Highbloods? If they don’t get their show, they get angry.
aA: Then they’ll make a show out of the individuals who they feel cheated of their entertainment from.
aA: Either way, you let me know soon what your answer is. I’m at the edge of my seat with anticipation.
aA: Also, do me a favor Adalov. Make the smart choice here.
astoundingAzure has left the conversation.
*
You’re in the kitchen. Papina sits at your kitchen table sipping a new bottle of store bought water. She wouldn’t take anything you offered her in a cup or from an already opened container. Her legs dangle from the edge of the chair, too short for your furniture.
“What did she say?” she asks. You’re sitting at the head of the table, palmhusk in hand.
You sigh and take a swig of your soda. “She’s being…difficult.”
You see Papina’s good hand clench the bottle. “Difficult how?”
You twirl your hand in the air. “You know, like… how psycho Highbloods can be difficult. Does that make sense?”
“Unfortunately yes.” Papina stares down at the tabletop. “So she won’t give him up?”
“It isn’t looking like she’ll take my money. And I'm not giving her coordinates to other Lowbloods."
“Empress no,” says Papina. She pauses. “And there isn’t anything she’d be willing to exchange for him?”
You look at her. Flashes of Ardata's shows go through your mind. You shove your palmhusk in your hoodie pocket. “No…No, she doesn't want anything else. She’s set on killing him.”
Papina’s shoulder slump. She sighs long and hard.
You look down at the table too. “Yeah.”
You both sit in a heavy, quiet moment.
“We’ll make a plan,” you suddenly say. “He’s still alive, and the show isn’t supposed to happen for a few more nights. We’ll get him out of there.”
“Mallek, how–”
“Don’t ask me how, I don’t know yet. But I don’t want to give up on this.”
“I don’t see what else we can do.”
“We’ll think of something. Let’s just, let’s just try. I don't know about you, but I don't want her to win. Okay?”
You don’t know where this unexpected hope is coming from inside of you, but you ride with it. You just don't want to give up on this. Not while Rubeen is still alive.
You watch Papina. You see the change in her as your words carry from her ears to her thinkpan. Synapses fire, and a new energy radiates softly from her. She sits up, her expression determined.
“Okay,” she says. “Let’s try together.”