FORTY-TWO
True to his word, a car was waiting in the underground parking area the next day. It transported her to the sprawling CollCom complex. At some other time, she’d have made a joke about the Collier’s overcompensating. In her current mood, the closest she got to happy was appreciating her sunglasses for shielding her tired eyes.
The car took her to a building tucked behind a bunch of others. Or it would be tucked, except it jutted up into the sky, overseeing all beneath it. It wasn’t skyscraper tall, just phallic in an otherwise low-lying world.
Some guy came trotting down the stairs, reaching her position at the same time the driver opened her door.
“Miss Kyst,” the guy said.
“Roxie.” She stepped away from the car door. “You can call me Roxie.”
“Sure,” the guy said, gesturing
