Chapter 39

The line of CabBots is short. Seven or eight at most. I walk to the last cab, and a line tender waves and yells at me, "Front of the line! Front of the line!"

I ignore him and bend down to the driver, who opens his window. "I'm looking for a Mr. F."

"Is that a new restaurant? I don't have it in my database."

I shake my head and move on to the next one, repeating my question. The line tender is still yelling at me but not moving from his podium that is sheltered from the rain. The CabBot shakes his head no, and I move on.

The third CabBot lowers his window when I knock. "Go to the front of the line," he says.

"I'm looking for a Mr. F. Can you help me?"

He smiles and nods, but it's a smile that makes me uneasy. Not like Dot's. It is slow and dawning, and distant. He turns back to his panel, pressing a spot that expands and blinks. "We got ourselves a Runner here. Come pick him up." He reaches out and locks his hand around my wrist.

"What--" I try to pull away, but his grip is like an iron cuff.

His distant smile returns. "You think we don't know their code words? I get points for every one of you I turn in. Five more, and I get legs."

I feel a rush, my head flooding with my own dawning realization. Never show your weakness. I put my foot up against the side of the cab for leverage as I return his grip, grabbing his wrist with my hand. "You better use those points for arms," I tell him. There is only a split second of confusion on his face before I pull, forcing my weight with whatever inhuman strength Gatsbro and BioPerfect gave me in one direction--away.

There's a quick pop, and then as I twist sharply, the artificial flesh tears, and the exposed blinking tendons hiss and crackle. The horror on his face is only a flash, because I am already running into the night, his arm attached to mine. I conceal the ripped arm beneath my coat, blindly running into the dark, and soon I'm swallowed up by pounding rain and the unknown. Needles of rain sting my eyes as I look for any sign of stars or moon for direction, but there is none, so I just run and never look back, the Bot's hand still gripping my wrist.