Toys

Chapter 32

I had finally figured out something useful. I knew what I had to do now and where I had to go-if I wanted to solve the mystery that had suddenly become my life. It was so obvious.

“I want to buy your car,” I said.

The man I was speaking to, a midlevel Elite just about to climb into his sporty Mazda ZX-740 airpod, looked stunned. I probably could have broached the subject more subtly, but I was in a hurry. I was a man with a plan now.

“Huh?” said the man. “I don’t want to sell you my car.”

“Yes, you do. Now come on, I’m in a real bind here. Name your price.”

He glanced around quickly, a grasp of the situation slowly creeping across his face. After walking to the edge of the human slums where Shanna lived, I had hopped on public transit and ridden to a commuter suburb of the city. A place with resplendent green lawns, backyard wave-pools, choreographed fountains, gold-plated driveway gates, and cozy commercial centers with boutiques, spas, high-end jewelers, and cafes that sold cups of organic coffee that cost more than the average human salary. A place, in short, where crime was almost unheard-of.

But the bottom line was that it was six o’clock in the morning, it was drizzling, there was not another soul in sight, and this poor guy was facing someone who looked like a human thug-and who was possibly crazy, or high on wyre.

“I’m not selling you my car. You should leave this neighborhood. Now,” he finally said. We were standing outside the only twenty-four-hour establishment in the area, a convenience store.

“Listen,” I said, talking fast enough to keep him off balance. “This is the all-environments model, right? Works on-road, off-road, airborne? Can safely dive to one thousand meters underwater? Gull-wing doors? Ultrasonic massage seats? THX six-point-three holographic surround sound? What’s the sticker price? Like three twenty? Tell you what, I don’t have time to haggle”-I rummaged in the pockets of the pants I’d taken off the Beta and came up with seven dollars and some change-“but I’m a little short of cash right now. So I guess I’ll have to borrow some money from you too.”

His mouth opened in complete disbelief, but then his face took on a cynical smirk. “This is some kind of joke, right? It has to be a joke.”

I stepped forward, gripped his lapels with one hand, and lifted him off his feet.

“No joke,” I said. “I’m sorry about this-but I need your car. My life depends on it.”