Chapter 2
1475 Words
Two
Grace crossed the pedestrian walk to the auto stop opposite the precinct. She could have ordered second-level transport and coasted above ground-level traffic as her authority afforded. But a slower commute would give her a chance to compose herself. She’d underestimated how hard it would be to look everyone in the eye and pretend she was okay when she wasn’t.
It hadn’t been the sly glances at her scarred face or their soft, apologetic eyes, both of which she’d prepared herself for. It hadn’t even been the meaningless small talk, which she found exhausting on the best of days.
It had been the admiration she’d found unbearable. Their love dripped with pity.
Her PNS pinged. “Your auto will arrive in ninety-three seconds, Commander Buteo.”
Have the autos ever run anybody over? Kaiden had asked, his thick curling hair outrageous on the top of his head as he’d blinked gorgeous brown eyes up at her. Specks of sunlight sparked in them. He had her eyes.
They have sensors on all sides, she’d told him. They’ll stop before they hit you.
They go so fast.
They do, but they’re also very good at stopping.
Kaiden. Her chest compressed so suddenly that she reached out and seized the safety rail framing the arrival platform. The pavement danced beneath her and no matter which of the embedded plastic particulates she focused on, she couldn’t undo the knot in her chest.
The auto rolled up to the curb and the door lifted like a swan unfurling its wing to usher her inside.
“Welcome, Commander Buteo. Please watch your—”
Grace all but threw herself into the dark interior of the auto and the door sealed itself behind her.
“We are pleased you’ve chosen CityRide for your transportation needs today, Commander Buteo,” the AI chimed. “My name is Charity and I will be your driver today. Can I confirm that your destination is Viscosity Incorporated? Three thirty-three Halogen Boulevard?”
“Yes.”
There was a pause as the AI computed the address. “That is an eleven-minute ride by level one transport. The rate for this transaction is $24. Confirm order?”
“Yes.”
A ping resonated through the auto’s interior. “Your account has been deducted $24 for this transaction. Thank you for choosing CityRide. Safe. Fast. CityRide. We value your business.”
The automatic safety harness fastening across her chest didn’t make her breathing any easier. She desperately tried to suck in more air and think of anything but Kaiden.
Kaiden with his soft, wild hair.
Kaiden with his goofy, crooked grin, one of the front teeth only halfway out of its upper gum.
“You do not have any music stored on your channels, Commander Buteo. Would you like me to play something for you? I have ‘News’ or ‘Music.’ I also have a large selection of ambient noise such as ‘Thunderstorms’ and . . .”
Kaiden with his smart questions that sometimes stunned her into laughing.
Kaiden with his penchant for building and playing piano and his endless requests for a dog—a real one, not a robotic one.
And they were two months from caving and buying it, despite the horrendous fees and taxes.
Kaiden . . .
“No.”
“No music selected. Please let me know if you need any temperature or light adjustments within the cabin—”
“Nothing, dammit! I don’t need anything!” Her voice echoed so loudly in the enclosed space her ears rang. Her heart thrummed hard against her ribs. She could feel the pulse building in her temple, pressure rising.
The AI governing the auto seemed offended by her outburst, responding with cold silence. It was only a voice bot, rattling off a preprogrammed selection of choices for customers. Most likely it was searching for a response that matched her words. And yet, illogically, Grace felt bad for yelling at it.
It occurred to her, not for the first time, that perhaps she was losing her mind. And why not? Hadn’t people broken down for less than the loss of their entire family? Why should she be any different?
Because you’re strong. The most willful and stubborn person I’ve ever met, Davion’s voice replied in her head.
Blessedly, the cabin dimmed and Grace was left in silence with her throbbing temples. She covered her face with her hands.
She tried to focus on anything, anything but Kaiden’s face framed in the passenger’s side window of her auto, mouthing Mom the second before it exploded.
Four wheels were blown off into the balmy night and the whole vehicle lifted six meters off the ground, underbelly in flames.
The blue light of her network responder caught the corner of her eye. “Your heart rate and blood pressure are elevated. Run the CALM program?”
She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Yes.”
“When you find your emotions suffocating,” the prerecorded therapist said, “bring your attention to the present moment. To the sensations in your body, and if that is too much, to the area around you. What do you see? What do you smell? Do you feel the energy in your hands?”
Her hands were trembling.
Her throat was so tight that her mouth remained open in a silent, strangled cry.
“Focus on this moment. What do you see, Grace?”
Her eyes darted around the interior of the cabin but could see nothing except light reflected through her tears. She blinked, and the auto came into sharp relief.
“Describe what you see. Aloud. Where are you?”
“I’m in a CityRide auto.”
“Excellent, Grace. Please continue.”
“I see the freeway. All the autos. The buildings flying past. I’m sure if this auto ran into a building at full speed, that’d be the end of me.”
“You are safe now, Grace,” it prompted.
She hesitated, her eyes sliding over the vehicles moving in the same direction she was. A sea of white beetles scurrying down the rose-gold boulevards.
“What else do you see?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re doing great, Grace. Tell me more.”
“Uh, mostly there’s plants. Flowers. CO2 neutralizers.”
The pounding in her head lessened. She was able to exhale fully now. Exhaustion pressed in. She’d only been working for an hour and she was already so tired. That didn’t bode well.
“Describe something you like about this moment.”
“I like . . . the electric whine.” The sound made it impossible for her to think.
“That sounds lovely. Please describe it for me. I’m not sure I’ve ever heard it.”
“Of course you’ve never heard it. You’re a robot.”
The program was meant to continue prompting her until her heart rate returned to acceptable levels. Therefore, it was impervious to her insults.
She sighed. “The autos have this thin whine as they roll. I don’t know if it’s made by the tires themselves or if it’s the sound of energy going into the auto’s battery.”
“I’m not sure I understand.”
“The tires spinning against the road creates kinetic energy. It charges the auto, and any leftover power is sent to the zone’s power grid. Kaiden did a report on it.”
Kaiden. Again, that crooked grin and his small hand slipping into hers. So warm.
Fresh tears pricked her eyes.
“That sounds lovely, Grace. I see why you enjoy it.”
A second-level emergency transport sailed over her, its titanium legs momentarily dimming the interior of her cabin as it passed at three times the speed of the level one transport.
She recognized the red fire department stripe on the carrier’s exterior.
“There’s a fire responder passing overhead.”
“Pick something closer to you. Focus now. Does something beautiful catch your eye?”
Grace understood that beautiful or curious things were meant to calm the mind, but as she surveyed the buildings of downtown, she only felt assaulted by the greenery. And not just by the rooftop gardens or flower boxes crowding every window. Every pillar, roadside railing, and sidewalk were covered with endless tendrils.
It was a jungle, hot and humid, pressing in on her. Like a cloth over her mouth and nose.
“Pick something else to focus on, Grace.”
But the only objects not covered in plant life were the golden solar panels serving as every building’s exterior. They regarded her impassively like large insect eyes.
“Is there anything you can appreciate?”
“A day has only so many hours,” she said, and exhaled. “I appreciate that.”
At last, the knot in her chest loosened. She no longer had to hold the belt away from her as if it were suffocating her.
“Your heart rate is within acceptable parameters now. You did great. I’m proud of you, Grace. Before the program is terminated, I would like you to say something with me.”
Grace detested this part of the MindCare program. But the snub-nosed therapist at the hospital had insisted that this software be installed into her lenscape before she returned to work. It had been her only stipulation, and Grace had seen no way to refuse her.
“Please repeat after me: I am grateful for this moment.”
Grace rolled her eyes. “I am grateful for this moment.”
“Perfect. Repeat this as often as you need. Take care of yourself, Grace. Remember, you are loved. You are needed. You are important to us.”
Grace threw herself against the auto’s seat and covered her face with her hands.
Loved. Needed. Important.
And the reason why her family was dead.
- Writer
