23
“You want me to drop you where?”
“Alley behind the marshals’ station.”
“I don’t think so,” Counter said.
“Up the street a couple of blocks?”
“I don’t think so.”
“How about that bodega over there?”
“The sooner, the better.”
“Thanks.”
She pulled her vehicle specially built for anorexics to the side of what I’ll generously call a street. There was no real difference between pedestrian space and vehicle space, mainly cuz there were no vehicles to speak of. That explained the popularity of the Pedestrian Rights League with its one-finger secret salute.
“I hear Planitia Prime is nice.”
“What?”
“For retirement.”
A shadow of the death’s head returned to the side of my face she could see. “I’ve heard the same thing.” I grabbed the door handle and turned.
“Hey, Fischer.”
I stopped.
