Terror clutched my chest, my veins turning to ice. I leapt from the bench and sprinted through a blur of grass and trees. Was he behind me? Couldn’t slow to look. I sprinted into a crosswalk at the park’s edge, my lungs blazing.

A horn blared and a car screeched to a stop inches from my leg.

Shrieking, I lunged away and raced toward a cafe, all brick and glass. It’d be safer in there. I snapped back the door and dashed inside, the scent of pastries and burnt coffee filling the cavernous space.

Everyone looked up from their laptops. My instinct was to keep running, but there were only stairs climbing to more seating.

I palmed my knees for support, my heart booming. A grinder was humming. My phone was vibrating. I answered. “Matt.”

“What the hell happened?”

“Someone else was controlling the bot and I think he was gonna pull a knife on me and also he had robot eyes. So I ran.” That decision was apparently made by my limbic system rather than any higher brain functions, but in retrospect it seemed like the right call given the—

“Robot eyes?” Matt was positively shrill.

“Tiny cameras. Servos and stuff.” I motioned, as if that helped. “No eyeballs.” Only why did a high-tech robot have such low-tech eyes?

“Oh geez. Are you okay? Where are you?”

I scanned the faux-chalk menu, golden under the broad windows. The customers at reclaimed wood tables had gone back to writing their novels or whatever. “Can you get to Oak Street Coffee?”

“You stay there, okay?”

I slunk to a table in the back with a view of the door. “I-I just didn’t expect him to be—”

“The Terminator?” Through the phone, an engine revved.

“You’ve gotta admit the game is real now. You clearly saw me there with whatever the hell that was.”

“I’ll admit there was something real. I just don’t know what.”

“Matt, do you understand the implications of this?” I dipped to a whisper. “Somebody was controlling that robot in the park, just like we were until you unplugged it. It could mean there are remote-control robots gallivanting around Las Yerbas. Robots that look human. Robots with weapons.” Those electronics the cops saw in the alley had to mean more game systems were out there. And bots. But why would anyone make a remote-operated robot—or be careless enough to leave the controls in a dumpster?

Horns blared through my phone. “What if whoever was driving the game character in that replay video murdered your twin? And like … it was the same guy who took control of the robot in the park? He’s seen your face now too.”

I waited for the hissing espresso machine to die back. “What about the asshole with the beard and glowing gun? We already know he’s after me. He said as much in his phone call, and he came at us in the game. Maybe he was the one who killed Ko Prime.”

“Ko Prime? Is that what we’re calling her now?”

“Do you have a better idea?”

“It’s possible we have a murder weapon on our hands—the game system. This is when we go to the cops.”

“What, and tell them I’m pretty sure I saw a real-life robot from a video game I found in a dumpster? A robot who may or may not have killed my secret twin? They’d laugh me outta the precinct.”

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My volume must’ve inched up, because a guy in a sport coat at the next table paused the lecture on his laptop to hit me with double-barrel side-eye. The vibe in here wasn’t exactly a monastery, but I guess I was a little noisy.

“We could march the bot to the station,” Matt said. “He’d be hard to ignore.”

“March a murder weapon we only sometimes control?”

Matt huffed. “Look, I’m almost there. May have run a few stale yellows. Lemme get parked.” The call ended.

I ordered a coffee and drifted back to the table, putting space between me and Sport Coat. Not that I needed caffeine with adrenaline still buzzing in my veins. But I could at least pretend I belonged here while I waited for Matt, right? Pretend the crowded cafe would protect me—one block away from the park….

Had I been foolish to go meet the game character? Seeing how huge he was made it clear this wasn’t just a game. If someone else had really taken control of the bot and its creepy cameras after Matt disconnected … man.

I’d come all the way to the park, and for what? Based on Mom’s few stories about Dad, he probably would’ve known what to do—probably pump the robot for info and ride off on a motorcycle he’d built himself to single-handedly take care of Beard Dude. If only I had that kind of clarity.

Matt finally tramped in with a frown, nodding across the room before ordering something large and blended with a modest dome of whipped cream. He tumbled into the chair opposite me, scanning the windows for lurking bots and taking a long slurp from his straw. “So what’s the plan?”

My foot jiggled with nervous energy. We needed to do something other than wait around, especially with that thing out there. Maybe looping in Mom sooner rather than later. “The plan is I go pee so I can think straight.” I pushed to my feet, the scrape of the chair summoning vacant looks, and padded toward the bathroom near the front door.

Just as a large figure stepped through it, blotting out the sun. His suit was out of place amid the reclaimed wood and shabby chic armchairs.

I stiffened, stepping back, my mouth arid.

The robot turned toward me, his voice sonorous. “We need to talk.”

I froze. There I was, steps from my dead double’s possible killer. I had wanted to talk, finally get some answers about Beard Dude and the console. But the sweat slicking my back said otherwise.

Matt and I exchanged a frantic look, his straw dangling from parted lips. We were cornered. I couldn’t just run and leave him. But if this robot’s operator wanted to kill us in a crowded coffee shop, he probably wouldn’t have opened with talking. Right?

Gulping, I looked the robot up and down. “Oh, so now you’re ready to chat?” I tried to sound casual, but my pulse wasn’t buying it. Nobody else in the coffee shop seemed to notice he wasn’t human, which I guess was the point.

The robot—or whatever he was—let his mouth pull into something like a smile that quickly deflated. “We don’t have much time. I need you to come with me.”

I shuffled back, gaping at his smooth movement, seemingly impossible with a controller. Did the person behind the bot have, like, VR gloves? His face was lifelike in an uncanny way, maybe a little stiff, but his voice sounded real. Not British, really. More like an old-timey newscaster. Pretty jarring coming out of this robot. “Didn’t you just pull a knife on me?” I whispered, aware of the other patrons. “I’m not going anywhere.”

His aviators glinted. “I was in the process of arming myself when you ran off, but only because I thought you were … somebody else. These cameras take a moment to initialize. Please, we can talk somewhere safer.”

“I have no idea who you are, dude.” I jerked my head for Matt to join me. At the very least, he could stand behind me and look heavy.

The robot’s head turned to follow my gaze. Then he sidestepped the soy milk and stevia station and, with surprising dexterity, slid into a chair at our table.

Matt inched away from the bot, his neck muscles tensed.

Now I really couldn’t run. So, sweating through my deodorant, I joined them at the table.

The robot panned between us. “I’m Garrett. I believe we’re on the same side.” He placed my pepper spray on the table between us. “And you dropped this.”

Something about how the bot held himself—head low, slouching a bit—was like a kid out to eat with his parents. Which was bizarre, since the bot was a tall dude in a suit. Maybe it was all an act. But he wasn’t giving off the same creepy vibes like when we had control.

Matt found his tongue. “Are you … a robot?” He rotated his head like a puppy faced with an unfamiliar object.

“No,” the robot said. “Well, yes.” His brows pulled together. “I’m not a bot, but this body is.” He read our reactions, ranging from confusion to rapt attention. “I’m piloting it remotely the same way you did earlier. As best as I can tell, when you disconnect, you lose your spot and someone else can swoop in.”

Best he could tell? So he was figuring this out just like we were. It explained how the game system didn’t work for us yesterday though—the bot was in use.

Garrett drummed his giant fingers on the table. “But none of that matters if we don’t leave now.”