ADEM

Versailles City, Apr 1, 3260

The guards kept the door and walkway clear, but outside the walls of the elevator depot was a wash of color and sound. Scrawny children chased each other in circles and ducked into dilapidated shacks that leaned here and there and upon each other for stability. Old men and women sat under crude canopies to drink tea and complain about the EuroD and the younger generations. The air was pungent with smoke and spices.

I found a spot along the depot wall to park my closet and used it as a seat. It didn’t take long for the children to notice and present their bowls and outstretched hands to me. My pockets were full of coins of the smallest denomination, and I traded them for names and stories.

My reader buzzed with a message from Hisako, who was already above the clouds and headed back to the Hajj with her mother. She sent me the name of a EuroD man she used to know and said he had a history of good works in La Merde. She also put me in touch with the lead singer of the Sandcats in case I wanted to pay my respects or crash a show.

An hour passed. Out of coins, I offered songs. My young audience kept time with me, banging on their bowls, clapping their hands, and slapping their thighs. I taught them a few of the simpler tunes, and we sang together. My fingers and throat were getting sore by the time the battered cargo van pulled up.

I waved to it. “Is that the best you could find?”

Raul leaned out of the window. “You told me not to spend too much.”

I lugged my closet to the van. The money Lucy gave me for my shares had to last until the Hajj returned and transferred my share of the profits from the run.

Raul was taller and was attempting a mustache but otherwise looked much like he did when I gave him my best reader and told him to learn something useful. He put the van in gear, weaving it skillfully among the pedestrians and carts.

“Did you get the warehouse space?” I said.

“Right near the junkyard. Independent power source and a good space for a workshop.” He grinned. “Even a dry place to sleep if you’re not picky.”

I wanted to say that I wasn’t, but I had nothing to base it on. I’d spent my life on a starship, flying above and out of reach of it all. The next few weeks were going to be interesting. “What about a crew?”

“Twelve people. Basic engineering skills. Starting full-time next week.”

“Good work.” I stretched my back against the patched seat. “I have a pod of parts and tools coming down the elevator tomorrow. We need to come back and pick it up.”

“I’ll be doing a job for my uncle. But look.” He showed me that he had modified the truck so it could be operated by someone with one arm. “She can take you. Her name is Rosita now.”

I wiped the dust off the inside of the windshield so I could see out and tried to find a comfortable position on the bench seat. I had an appointment at New Sorbonne University, but it was still hours away.

“They say war is coming soon,” Raul said. “What will we do then?”

“Try to stay out of it. I didn’t come here to fight.” In the name of Allah, the merciful, the compassionate…

“What was that?” Raul said.

I hadn’t realized I’d said the last part aloud. “Just something my great-grandmother used to say. Are you hungry? Let’s find something to eat then we can take a look at this warehouse you found. We have a lot of work to do.”