do so without injuring herself? It was increasingly difficult to focus.
McKee hurried over to the playhouse, climbed a child-sized ladder, and stood on rain-slicked wood. If a drone arrived, there would be no place to hide.
No,
she told herself,
think. You can do this. Run and jump. But not too fast, or youâll fall off the top of the wall.
Cat Carletto had been a gymnast in high school, and she could do what was required. That was McKeeâs hope anyway as she took three quick steps and made the leap. The sandals hit and held. But her forward momentum threatened to send her headfirst toward the ground below. Arms windmilled in an attempt to forestall disaster, and it worked.
So thatâs where McKee was. Teetering on top of the security wall when the patrol car appeared. Did it belong to the police? Or to the rent-a-cops who were paid to provide the community with additional security? McKee wasnât sure as a wave of dizziness swept over her. She swayed and nearly lost her balance.
Then her worst fears came true as the vehicle slowed and pulled over. But why had he chosen to park thirty feet
beyond
the point where she was? McKee tried to think as a man got out of the car and took a look around. Then he turned his back on the street. And because McKee was a legionnaire, and had been living with male soldiers for many months, she knew what that meant. The officer was about to take a pee.
A radio squawked as the man zipped his pants and entered the car. Then the light bar on the roof came to life, tires screeched, and the vehicle pulled away. McKee knelt, slipped over the side, and dropped to the ground. Something went wrong, and she fell.
And thatâs where she was, lying on a planting strip and staring up into the night sky, when the air car passed over her. And not just
any
air car but a brightly lit taxi.
Thatâs what I need,
she thought dully.
A taxi.
Then she remembered the comset in her pocket. A part of her mind said she shouldnât use the device. Not until she knew more about it. But another part was too exhausted to care. And it won out.
McKee fumbled the comset out into the open, thumbed the power button, and gave thanks when the screen lit up. âI need a taxi,â she told it. âSend one to this location.â
A computer took note of the comsetâs coordinates and handed the request off to a cab company, which sent an air car to pick her up. By the time it arrived, McKee was on her feet and standing next to the curb. The taxiâs AI didnât care how its passengers looked so long as they were carrying valid debit cards.
McKee couldnât really afford a ground cab, never mind an air taxiâbut there wasnât any choice given the way she felt. âCrank up the heat,â she said, as she entered the passenger compartment. âAnd take me to the nearest hotel that has a vacancy.â
Fortunately for McKee, the cab ride was short, and the nearest hotel was a midlevel establishment frequented by businesspeople, and tourists on a budget. The receptionist was clearly taken aback by the young womanâs disheveled appearanceâbut was willing to accept McKeeâs account of a broken-down ground car, a walk in the rain, and an unfortunate fall.
Once in her room, McKee stripped, entered the bathroom, and took a hot shower. That went a long way toward restoring her physical well-beingâand a meal from room service completed the process. It was about 0100 by that time, but McKee couldnât resist examining the comset.
There was nothing special about the way it looked. Thousands, maybe millions of such devices were purchased every day, usually by low-income people who couldnât afford a com contract. And when McKee selected CONTACTS , she was thrilled to discover a single listing. It consisted of the name Joe. His number was highlighted. All she had to do was touch it to place a call. But what about the possibility of a government trap?
McKee hurried over to the playhouse, climbed a child-sized ladder, and stood on rain-slicked wood. If a drone arrived, there would be no place to hide.
No,
she told herself,
think. You can do this. Run and jump. But not too fast, or youâll fall off the top of the wall.
Cat Carletto had been a gymnast in high school, and she could do what was required. That was McKeeâs hope anyway as she took three quick steps and made the leap. The sandals hit and held. But her forward momentum threatened to send her headfirst toward the ground below. Arms windmilled in an attempt to forestall disaster, and it worked.
So thatâs where McKee was. Teetering on top of the security wall when the patrol car appeared. Did it belong to the police? Or to the rent-a-cops who were paid to provide the community with additional security? McKee wasnât sure as a wave of dizziness swept over her. She swayed and nearly lost her balance.
Then her worst fears came true as the vehicle slowed and pulled over. But why had he chosen to park thirty feet
beyond
the point where she was? McKee tried to think as a man got out of the car and took a look around. Then he turned his back on the street. And because McKee was a legionnaire, and had been living with male soldiers for many months, she knew what that meant. The officer was about to take a pee.
A radio squawked as the man zipped his pants and entered the car. Then the light bar on the roof came to life, tires screeched, and the vehicle pulled away. McKee knelt, slipped over the side, and dropped to the ground. Something went wrong, and she fell.
And thatâs where she was, lying on a planting strip and staring up into the night sky, when the air car passed over her. And not just
any
air car but a brightly lit taxi.
Thatâs what I need,
she thought dully.
A taxi.
Then she remembered the comset in her pocket. A part of her mind said she shouldnât use the device. Not until she knew more about it. But another part was too exhausted to care. And it won out.
McKee fumbled the comset out into the open, thumbed the power button, and gave thanks when the screen lit up. âI need a taxi,â she told it. âSend one to this location.â
A computer took note of the comsetâs coordinates and handed the request off to a cab company, which sent an air car to pick her up. By the time it arrived, McKee was on her feet and standing next to the curb. The taxiâs AI didnât care how its passengers looked so long as they were carrying valid debit cards.
McKee couldnât really afford a ground cab, never mind an air taxiâbut there wasnât any choice given the way she felt. âCrank up the heat,â she said, as she entered the passenger compartment. âAnd take me to the nearest hotel that has a vacancy.â
Fortunately for McKee, the cab ride was short, and the nearest hotel was a midlevel establishment frequented by businesspeople, and tourists on a budget. The receptionist was clearly taken aback by the young womanâs disheveled appearanceâbut was willing to accept McKeeâs account of a broken-down ground car, a walk in the rain, and an unfortunate fall.
Once in her room, McKee stripped, entered the bathroom, and took a hot shower. That went a long way toward restoring her physical well-beingâand a meal from room service completed the process. It was about 0100 by that time, but McKee couldnât resist examining the comset.
There was nothing special about the way it looked. Thousands, maybe millions of such devices were purchased every day, usually by low-income people who couldnât afford a com contract. And when McKee selected CONTACTS , she was thrilled to discover a single listing. It consisted of the name Joe. His number was highlighted. All she had to do was touch it to place a call. But what about the possibility of a government trap?
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