BELL THE CAT

  The cat drone bounded toward the wall socket, its metallic paws scraping at the opening with sharp hisses. Will quickly jerked the crawler deeper into the outlet, but the cat remained persistent, trying to dig its too-rge paw into the small opening.

  “That thing’s going to ruin everything!” Remy groaned in dismay. “If Von-Bron finds this, we’re done.”

  “I can patch it,” Will said gruffly, ignoring the tightening knot in his stomach. He activated one of the crawler’s tiny arms and retrieved the circur pte they had cut from the wall socket. “It’s a clean cut, and the adhesive works fast. No one will know the difference.”

  The problem, though, was getting the cover back into pce without provoking the cat. The feline kept swatting at the opening with fervent zeal, and Will hovered the crawler near the opening, muscles taut. He waited with trepidation, not daring to make any sudden moves that might trigger the cat’s suspicion. But just as abruptly as the attack started, the drone-cat stopped.

  With a flick of its metallic tail, it slinked away with graceful indifference and eventually curled up on the floor to groom itself.

  “Is it done?” asked Remy warily.

  “For now, at least.” Will exhaled, tension slipping from his shoulders. “How did we miss this?”

  Becca chimed in, her voice sharp. “We were only watching during the day when Von-Bron was out for work… and not once did we see a cat.”

  “It probably went into sleeper mode.” Remy groaned. “What kind of guy would keep a cat as a pet? A dog I’d understand. But a cat?”

  “What’s wrong with cats?” asked Becca.

  “They’re cats,” Remy retorted, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Cats and geese are the worst.”

  “That’s stupid.”

  “No, you’re stupid.”

  “Alright, enough,” Will interjected, rubbing his temples. “Focus. How do we get out of this mess?”

  Remy snorted. “Simple. Just shoot Mr. Kitty between the eyes.”

  “Remy!” Becca gasped, horrified.

  Will remembered the disassembled ceramic gun Remy had packed, realizing his friend wasn’t entirely joking. He sighed. Days of tension were finally fraying everyone’s nerves.

  “Alright, let’s take a breather,” said Will. “Forget the cat for a moment. Is there anything mission-critical that we missed? Did we forget anything?”

  “Not really,” said Remy. “Just connect me to the modem and we’re golden.”

  “So, the cat is our st hurdle,” Will muttered. “Past that, we’ll be in the clear. Now think. What’s our next step?”

  A brief silence settled over the group as they each mulled over the problem.

  “Can we lure it into another room?” Becca suggested tentatively.

  “How?” Remy clicked his tongue. “The moment we bring the crawler out, it’ll be all over us.”

  “It’s more interested in us than in any bait we might use,” Will added grimly.

  “Maybe it’ll wander off on its own?” Becca hoped aloud. “If we wait…”

  “Waiting is risky,” Will pointed out. “We can’t sit here forever. The longer we wait, the more likely something will go wrong.”

  “I don’t see how it can get worse,” Remy mused, then corrected himself. “Well... there is one way it can.”

  Will’s gut twisted as he caught Remy’s drift. He tapped his earpiece, listening closely as he boosted the audio feed from the crawler. Faintly, from deeper inside the apartment, came the sound of running water.

  "I think he’s in the shower," said Will.

  “That’s good,” said Remy.

  “Will,” Becca interrupted sharply. “Try zooming in on the cat’s colr.”

  Will gnced at the screen and noticed a bck colr peeking through the drone’s silver fur. Surprised, he zoomed the crawler’s camera in for a closer look; Becca had a sharp eye. As the image came into focus, a name appeared, etched into the leather—Mittens.

  “Well, at least we know its name now,” Remy muttered dryly.

  Will narrowed his eyes at the screen, noticing something else. Along the border of the colr was a company logo accompanied by a string of words:

  Marlin V-9.

  Will frowned as he mouthed the words. “Remy, look that up. See if you can find a product sheet or manual with the name Marlin.”

  “On it,” said Remy.

  Will sat quietly, listening to the rapid clicks of Remy’s furious typing over the comms. On the screen, Mittens continued grooming itself, completely unbothered by the world around it. Minutes ter, Remy’s excited voice crackled in Will’s earpiece. “Got it! Marlin V-9—pet bots.”

  A soft ping sounded as Remy sent over images to Will’s console. He gnced at the dispy—a sleek robotic cat, eerily identical to Mittens, stared back from the screen.

  “Listen to this,” Remy read from the product description. “Experience the joy of feline companionship. State-of-the-art bot designed to mimic the curiosity, independence, and pyful energy of a real cat.”

  “Yeah, that all checks out,” Becca remarked quietly. “Is there anything in there that we can use to turn it off?”

  “Let’s see...” Remy’s voice trailed off as he scrolled through the document. “Interactive py features, mood-driven behavior, self-entertainment, infinite curiosity mode—?!”

  “That expins a lot,” Will sighed, watching as the cat's head snapped back toward the wall outlet the moment the crawler shifted. He quickly retracted the bot, and the cat rexed, resuming its grooming routine.

  “It’s fast, I’ll give it that,” Will muttered.

  “Will,” Becca interrupted, her tone sharp and uneasy. “We’ve got a bigger problem.”

  His heart sank. “What now?”

  “Check your external camera,” Becca said urgently.

  Will switched the feed to the bot’s external camera, and his heart stuttered to a stop. A repair drone was cruising along the rail, headed straight toward him.

  “Shit!” Will cursed.

  “Any chance it’s here for something else?” asked Remy.

  “I don’t know,” Will replied. “And it’s not like it matters. I can’t exactly move while I’m piloting the crawler.”

  The repair drone drew closer, emitting a series of soft pings, and Will’s heart raced as he received a transmission signal over the open channel.

  “It’s hailing me,” Will whispered.

  “Do not respond,” Remy hissed urgently. “Stay quiet.”

  Will held his breath, fingers frozen over the controls. The drone sent another ping, waiting expectantly. When it received no reply, it extended a pair of mechanical arms, and the cmps snapped around Will’s transport bot.

  Will cursed as the transporter lurched, throwing him off bance. Red lights fshed on the monitor as damage reports flooded in.

  As he struggled to steady himself, a harsh metallic groan reverberated through the transporter. The shell began to dent and buckle under the strain, and Will’s eyes widened in shock.

  The repair drone was about to crush the transporter—and him along with it.

  JasonCliff