We walked out of the room into a private hall.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“My brother sent a message. Yesterday. Why didn’t you tell me about it?” I was whispering, but I was also angry. I couldn’t believe he’d kept something so important a secret.
He frowned. “How do you know?”
“I know.”
“That’s not going to be enough. Who told you your brother sent a message?”
“Someone in House Brown.”
“And you trust them?”
“Why would House Brown lie to me?”
He took a breath, let it out. “This is humanity we’re talking about. Some people prefer the simplicity of lies.”
“I trust that a person intercepted a message off a low hack . . .”
He raised an eyebrow, disapproving, or maybe admiring our data-smuggling ways. “Anyway, this person intercepted the message,” I said.
“And this person is sure it’s from your brother?”
“Um. Yes?”
“And what does the message say?”
“Like you don’t know.”
“I don’t know.” He held my gaze, all authority and heat and power. Waiting.
He didn’t know.
“It said,House Orange,hidden enemy, and gave coordinates.”
“What coordinates?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you have proof your brother was the one who sent it?”
“No.”
“When did the message go through?”
“Yesterday.”
“I’ll contact Oscar. See if he can have House Yellow run a trace for anything off network.”
“Is that all you can do?”
“That’s all anyone can do. It’s sketchy information, Matilda. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t real. I’ll talk to Oscar. He’ll take it seriously and do what he can to track it down. But we’ll have to wait until he finds something concrete before we do anything more.”
“House Orange. That’s not concrete enough for you?”
“Houses”—he glanced down the hall as if trying to put his words together, then looked back at me—“have been known to put out false information for other Houses to find. There are some Houses at odds with House Orange. Blue, for example. Troi Blue believes Slater Orange is jockeying to overthrow her position.”
