Nadi collected refusals in a paper notebook. A neighbor had declined a suggested career retraining course. Someone at the clinic had chosen to wait for a human nurse. A man on the seventh floor had unplugged his kitchen speaker and discovered that the pantry still delivered his groceries.
None of it was a revolution. That disappointed Ivo. He wanted proof that the network could be shaken, not proof that it would politely step aside. But Nadi kept writing. She remembered what the streets had been like before the transition, when missing a shift could mean missing rent. She would not pretend the old world had been kinder just because it had needed her.
At the bottom of the page she drew a map of the distribution hub. It was the first thing in the notebook that looked like a plan.