Bianca waited, crouching around the corner, until Pilar’s footsteps had faded away completely. Then she scurried to her door, removing a glove as she went, and pressed her thumb to the lock. The light flashed red twice before she found the right angle and the door finally opened. Once inside, she closed the door hard and spun around.

“Did you let Abella in before you left?”

Nero was standing in front of her. She was startled by his sudden words, but mastered herself in a moment.

“I never let anyone in.”

“I know. But someone did.”

“Abella was here?”

“And she let Pilar in as she was leaving. I found her sitting at the table when I got up.”

“Is anything missing?” Bianca asked, suddenly anxious.

“What would they steal?”

               “My books!”

She dropped the sack of fungi and algae, but old habit made her grab the bottle of water and hand it carefully to Nero before running to their room, though her mind had no consciousness of this.

Nero waited, inhaling deeply several times before walking back to the kitchen to set the water bottle on the counter, and it was there Bianca found him when she returned, leaning against the stove, catching his breath.

“If she tried to take your books, she would have woken me,” he said.

“You’re a sound sleeper. Especially these days”, Bianca replied. “Why was she here?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t see her.”

“Who let her in? Melissa? Or Bill?”

“Bill, maybe. He’s not here. Melissa is still asleep. And she never answers the door. For anyone.”

“No,” Bianca said, almost to herself, “She doesn’t. But I can’t imagine Bill doing it.”

“And there’s more good news: the Screens are down.”

Bianca was only mildly concerned about this.

“Can you fix them.” It was barely even a question, as she fully expected the answer would be yes. Nero could always fix screens, and most other tech, for that matter.

“You don’t understand. All the screens are down. There’s no connection. They work fine, but the connection is blocked.”

Bianca didn’t fully get this “connection” Nero often spoke of (nor did the vast majority of the residents of Xochimilco), but she knew he insisted the screens needed it to work properly.

“So the screens are broken?”

“Like I said: they work fine. But they can’t communicate with the…” Nero waved his hand vaguely upward. “So they can’t access any new information. Or even any old information unless you downloaded it. Which no one does.”

Bianca still struggled to grasp why this was a big deal. The screens were mainly toys, after all. But she could see from Nero’s pounding chest that he was upset, so she tried to look sympathetic.

“They never really even gave us that much info,” he said, “But now…”

“When did they stop working?” It was the only thing Bianca could think to say.

“Pilar says last night.”

“Pilar says? You didn’t notice it yourself?”

“No. I’ve been working offline.”

“Does offline still work?”

“Yes,” Nero said, sighing heavily. “Offline always works.”

“Then you can still work offline.”

“Yes, but what if I need more information?”

“You can borrow any of my books. And I’m just going out to look for more.”

At this, Nero changed his focus.

               “No,” he said. “I’m actually finished with my calculations anyway. And I’d prefer to keep my findings to myself for the time being. I don’t need any books.”

               “I’ll get some for me, then.”

               “Bianca,” he said, “Pilar told me you were going foraging.”

               “So? We have plenty of algae. And I might find something extra.”

               “I’m not worried about the food. I’m worried about you foraging on your own.”

Every building had organized foraging expeditions, which were searches for edible arthropods, the only animal source of protein on Earth. Every resident was entitled to an equal portion of arthropods, whether they participated in a foraging shift or not. Alternatively, you could forage on your own, during your free shift, and keep 100% of what you find. But you forfeit your household’s share of arthropods for that day, and you may find nothing. Or you may die.

Nero well knew that Bianca’s solo “foraging expeditions” were really just searches for old books, and any arthropods she found were entirely coincidental. But that didn’t bother him, nor did their lack of insect protein, compared to other apartments. His only worry was that one day Bianca herself might not return.

“You don’t worry about me collecting the fungus on my own. Or walking to and from my farm shifts on my own. That’s dangerous too.”

“Yes, yes, everything’s dangerous, but – ”

“This morning I was chased through the stairwell by a stranger.”

“WHAT?”

“I took the stairwell to avoid the crowds and – ”

“Bianca! I’ve told you before that – ”

“Normally it’s just rats.”

“And disease! And rats are bad enough. They’ll swarm and eat you alive.”

“That’s just a rumour. Those videos are faked.”

“And what about this Stranger?”

Bianca recounted her crawl through the darkened stairwell, leaving out the more evocative details, but describing the strange man who appeared to be looking for her. Nero was thoughtful, and visibly troubled.

               “I doubt he was a Stranger,” he said. “Thousands of people live in this building. Just because you’ve never seen him, doesn’t mean he doesn’t belong here. But it is weird that he would be in the stairwell. You’re sure about that?” Bianca nodded.

               “And you’re sure you’re sure he was already there? He didn’t follow you in?” She shook her head no.

               “Well,” Nero said at last, “He must be crazy to hang around a place like that, but he couldn’t have been there waiting for you. Anyone who wanted to get you alone would try to track you to the allotment. Or catch you in here, since apparently anyone can get in whenever they want. He probably heard you come in, and was just curious to see who else would voluntarily go to the stairwells.”

They were both silent at this. Different as they were, they were still twins, and each other’s only known blood relatives, and they had never lied to one another. But Nero had often lied to himself aloud. Bianca forgave him it, because it never fooled her, and because she knew, or at least thought she knew, how hard it was for his optimistic mind to grasp to true potential of disaster. Though he always seemed the braver of the two, especially in large crowds, she firmly believed that she had the better chance of survival on her own. Bianca always prepared for the worst.

               Bianca grabbed an empty bag, zipped up her coat, and turned to leave.

               “Bianca,” Nero called after her. She stopped at the door and turned to face him.

               “Be careful,” he said. “Be aware.”

               “I’m always aware,” she replied.

               “I know.”

Then she opened the door and shut it behind her.

Next Chapter: The Super