Chapter 31

At this speed, the landscape changes rapidly. We've passed through forests and small towns that, at least from a distance, don't look much different from the towns I knew. We passed one large city that Dot said was Columbus. Again, like Boston, it was surrounded by a bird's nest of transgrids. When I ask if all cities have this grid work around them now, Dot tells me no, only the larger cities that were frequent targets during the long Civil Division.

I had already forgotten about the division of the country into two nations, and now I worry about the problems that may pose in our travel. "Will we have to cross any borders?"

Miesha and Dot both glance in the mirror at me.

"Borders?" Dot asks.

"There are no borders," Miesha says.

"I thought there was a Civil War and there were two countries now."

"There are. But everyone chooses which country to be a citizen of. You can change once every eight years."

"Unless you're a Non-pact," Dot says. "Once a Non-pact, always a Non-pact. Just like Bots."

"No," Miesha corrects her. "Non-pacts are not just like Bots. They were once full citizens." I note the immediate edge in her voice. She and Dot forget about me and begin correcting each other on the particulars of the Division. I already knew Dot was well versed in a lot of subjects for the purpose of entertaining tourists in her cab, but I have to wonder why Miesha knows or cares so much about historical details when she is tight-lipped about so many subjects. Between the two of them, I learn that the Division was not along regional lines the way the first Civil War was, but along philosophical lines. After years of civil unrest and violence, two new countries were established. But it was more like a divorce, and citizens could choose the parent country of their choice no matter where they lived. A few citizens would not conform to the new "pact" and refused to choose. They were labeled Non-pacts and excluded from all public services, which included education. Some of the Non-pacts were wealthy and could afford private education at first, but eventually their businesses all suffered and they became the invisible poor.

"They have the opportunity to become citizens, though," Dot says.

"How?" Miesha asks. "They can't go to school, and with no education, they can't pass the exams, not to mention pay the fees. And maybe some of them still think it should only be one country instead of two."

"Is that what you think, Miesha?" I ask.

She frowns like she is annoyed that I have entered the conversation between her and Dot and then turns away, looking out the window to her right. "It doesn't matter what I think."

She's wrong. I have a fabricated body. I am in a world that is completely different from the one I was born into. What I think is all I have left. My mind is the only thing that makes me different from a fancy toaster. What we think does matter--it's all we truly have. But I know the conversation is over.

Up ahead in the far distance a glimmer of yellow in the flat landscape catches my attention and I think we are approaching wheat fields. But then I wonder--it's spring and too early for golden wheat. As we get closer, I see sharp glints of light sparkling on its surface. It is not wheat. The yellow glimmer grows in mass and extends to the horizon. It looks like it will swallow us up if we stay on this path. In a matter of moments, we are in the middle of it, the transgrid speeding above a vast yellow pond with millions of white sticks protruding at close regular intervals from it, like plant stakes, except there are no plants. The stench is immediate.

"My God, what is that smell?"

"Sorry!" Dot says. "Forgot about you Breathers." She touches a few lights on the panel, and the air in the cab becomes clear and breathable again.

"Are those algae ponds?" Miesha asks.

"You've never seen them?" Not that I have, but I at least knew about them and had seen some Vgrams that showed the process of creating algae-based fuels. I just didn't realize how enormous the ponds were--or how smelly.

"I've never been out this way," Miesha answers.

"But didn't you learn about them in--"

School. They can't go to school, and with no education, they can't pass the exams. Is Miesha a Non-pact? Like one of those land pirates? Is that why she's so secretive? I don't finish my sentence, and she lets it drop too. But she has to know what I'm thinking.

I shift in my seat. The cab is small, fine for short trips around the city, but for long stretches like this, I feel all six feet, three inches of me, especially since my jaw still throbs and the gash in my side sends shooting pains through my back and chest every time I move. Dot's doctor didn't work wonders, but at least I'm not tasting blood in my mouth any longer. I work to hide my pain as I change positions. I don't want any suggestions that we stop for a rest. When I'm with Kara, there will be plenty of time for that--maybe six hundred years' worth of resting. We pass over the last algae field, and I lean forward. "How much longer?"

"Twenty-two minutes. I will change our destination back to Topeka in fourteen minutes."

I sit back and close my eyes. We're almost there. It won't be soon enough for me.

Run, Jenna. Run. Precious, privileged Jenna. Jenna.

My eyes fly open.

Miesha and Dot are silent, staring straight ahead.

Jenna. Jenna. Jenna.

It's an angry, deliberate beat. I look around me, out all sides of the car, grunting in pain as I twist around, and then I see it. A train is passing on our left. I press up to the window.

You left me.

"Put the window down! Put it down!" I yell to Dot.

"What are you doing?" Miesha yells back.

"At this speed I am unable to lower the window," Dot says. "It would be too dangerous for--"

"Put it down!" But the window remains up. I frantically search the windows of the train as it passes, a blur of faces staring back. A little boy sticks his tongue out at me. More faces turning away, or not noticing me at all. Moving past, away, faster than us.

Jenna. Jenna.

I pound on the window. "She's there! I know she's there! Kara! Can you hear me? Kara!"

Jen--

Passengers stare back at the maniac pounding on his own window and quickly look away. And then I see her, her shoulder pressed up against the window, her face hidden by a curtain of black hair. In seconds she will move ahead and out of view.

Kara! I'm here! This way!

Her head jerks, the tiniest movement, like she is going to turn, her hair moving in slow-motion waves, but then she stops, the waves subside, and she is gone.

Did she hear me? Why didn't she turn? I know I could hear her. Kara. But now the sound is gone, and a part of me has vanished too. She is all I had for so long. Without her, the Locke I was doesn't even exist.

"At least you know you were correct," Dot offers. "She's headed to California. And it looks like we will be at the Topeka station in time for you to meet her."

"Thank you for hurrying, Dot."

"My pleasure! When we--" Dot's eyes fly from me to the control panel. "We're moving over." She hits several lights, and then hits them again, repeating the same pattern.

"So? Didn't you say you were going to change our destination back to Topeka?"

"I haven't changed it yet."

We're now in the middle lane and moving toward the far right one. Alarm spreads across Dot's face as she pounds light after light.

"What's happening?"

Her hands drop from the panel. "They've found us. There's a Security Tunnel four kilometers ahead. They are maneuvering us over to dispatch us into it." She turns to look at me. "I am so sorry, Customer Locke."

"Can't you do something?"

"There has to be a way...." Miesha pounds at the panel.

I pull myself up over the seat and pound too. "Are they going to zap us?"

"No," Dot answers. "If they had that capability, they would have done it by now. We are extreme risks. But they have found at least one hidden signal that has allowed them access to the controls."

"Look out!" I say. "Move to the side, Miesha!" I pull myself up and sit on the back of the seat. I use the headrest behind Miesha to leverage myself, and I kick against the panel. It doesn't even crack. I'm not going down any Security Tunnel. I pull back and throw every bit of my weight into my leg, and my shoe crashes into the panel, shattering the glass. I stomp again and again at the circuits beneath the panel. "Turn the steering bar, Dot! Get off at the next exit! Turn!"

"I'm turning, but it's not moving! We're still on the hook."

I continue to stomp. Glass and circuits fly. The car slows substantially and then moves into the exit lane.

"It's working!" Miesha shouts.

The cab coasts off the next ramp.

"You are brilliant, Customer Locke! Disabled vehicles are moved off the grid automatically to avoid impeding traffic." The grid hook spits us out at the bottom of the ramp, and we coast as much as we are able down a deserted road. We are in the middle of nowhere.

I fall into the back seat, out of breath. "Can we keep going at all, Dot?"

"I think we can limp along for a short way. At least away from here. The signal has most certainly stopped transmitting, but they will come searching soon anyway because they know our approximate location."

She pulls on a lever on the left side of the steering bar, and we jerk forward, the car moving in awkward jumps and at a very slow speed. This car is not going to get us far. How will we make it to Topeka in time now?

The deserted road leads into a small town. All I see is a rest stop with a diner, a ratty public park with some restrooms, a little market, and a few other nondescript buildings. Most look abandoned.

"I think it would be expedient to park the car in a hidden location," Dot says. "And for you to find another mode of transportation."

I notice that Dot's tone has changed. She is quiet and reserved, the way she was when Kara and I first entered her cab.

"Good idea," I answer. "How about that building there?" It is a large metal barn with piles of rusted garbage outside. Junkyards still look the same. One of the doors is open, and a loose beam hangs from the roof.

Dot drives in, and I hop out to close the door behind us, leaving it only slightly ajar for light. Miesha gets out too, but Dot remains seated in the disabled car because there's not really anything else she can do.

Now what? I've solved us right into a corner. And I'm starving. And I have to pee. I walk over to Dot's door and peer in.

She smiles. "I saw a diner just a block down," she says. "You're hungry. You can get something to eat there and find out about alternative transportation. You should hurry. There will be at least a one-hour delay at the Topeka station to change trains, so you still have time." She puts her hands up on the steering bar and nods like she is dismissing me. "Remember," she adds, "your success--"

"I know, Dot. Thank you." I stand there. She's right. We need to go, but I feel like I should say something more. "You'll be okay?" and I instantly want to slam my head against the roof of the car for being an idiot, but instead I just stand there until she nods and then I walk away. Miesha leaves with me.

We walk out into the dusty graveled yard without speaking.

I briefly look back at the barn but keep walking. "If we had a wheelchair..."

"You mean an assistance chair."

"Whatever."

Miesha stops walking. "Hell, how hard could it be to yank a Bot out of a cab?"

We both turn and run back to the barn. Dot is surprised to see our faces poking back in the windows. "Dot, what would happen if we disconnected you from your console?"

"Without the car recharging me, I would lose function within two to three weeks, depending on how I conserve energy."

"How do we do it?"

"The Servicers at the warehouse simply lift after pressing lights on the control panel."

I look at the smashed control panel.

She points to the base of the console. "Or you can press the release buttons on either side here. But you don't have to go to the trouble to dispose of me, Customer Locke. When the Servicers arrive, I plan to dump all my memory so there would be no chance of them finding out about you. You are safe. I will be permanently disabled."

"No, Dot. You're not dumping anything. You're coming with us." I pull open the door and push the release button on my side of the console, and Miesha pushes the button on her side. Dot is fussing, still not understanding what we're doing. I pull her from the car. She is heavy. Even though she's only half a body of circuits and wires, she must weigh a hundred pounds. I heft her over my shoulder.

"But it is against the law," she protests.

"What isn't?" I adjust her weight on my shoulder. "Come on, you're going to see the inside of a diner for a change."