Fifteen
“You’re taking me to your mothers’ estate?” she asked in disbelief. Grace was in no condition to show up on the doorstep of someone’s mansion. Not as a dusty exile, her arm torn open.
“We’ll never make it today. I used too much of the auto’s battery in favor of speed. Tonight we’ll need to charge. A decent meal and sleep wouldn’t hurt either. And I have just the place in mind for that. Not the safest place in the world, but we will be very welcome. Geraldine’s quite good with robotics too. She can probably fix up your arm. Or at least tell me what it needs.”
“Who’s Geraldine?”
“A friend. Or rather, my mother’s friend. They worked in the military together. Geraldine left years ago to live in a free zone. My mother, on the other hand, won’t stop working until she falls over dead.
