led an ancient manual grass mower out of the garage of the house beside his own, one of the old, old rotary clipper styles, then proceeded to mow the lawn. Yes, it would make the house stand out, but he just couldn't stand to see that knee-high grass any longer. It took him about an two hours to mow around the front and side yard, since the grass was so high, then another hour to mow the back. He went in for a drink and to check the Faey traffic radio, then came back out and started raking up the clippings.

About halfway through, he started hearing it. It was distant, faint, but approached rapidly. It was an engine, a gas engine, and from the sound of it, it was a motorcycle. It got very close, and from the sound of it, it passed by on Route 7, north of his street. It got to about the bridge, then it seemed to turn around. Jason swept out with his power and touched on a single mind, the rider of that motorcycle. The thoughts of that mind told Jason that it was specifically looking for _him_, but had no hostile intentions. Jason realized that the magnet trap was still active, and he fished in his pocket for the remote that would turn it off in case whoever it was went up over the bridge, but by the time he had the remote out, he spotted the motorcycle and the rider.

It was a woman wearing a pair of dirty blue jeans with black chaps over them, and a white tee shirt with a black leather vest atop it. She wore no helmet, but did have on a pair of old-fashioned goggles. Her hair was very, very long, black and straight, and it looked tangled and disheveled from her riding about. She looked in both directions, then spotted him and turned her bike towards him. She was riding a Harley Hog, a massive machine that most women wouldn't dare to ride, due to the motorcycle's great weight. But this woman seemed to have no trouble with it, coming to a stop on the street right in front of him, then putting a booted foot down for a moment before turning off her machine. She kicked the stand down, then leaned back on her bike and raised her goggles. She was a surprisingly lovely black woman, without the wideness that was pattern in people descended from the cradle of civilization. There was a delicate fineness about her features, with her high cheeks and sharp chin, and a slight slant to her eyes that hinted that this woman had some Asian ancestry somewhere in her bloodline. But the mixture of Asian and African lineage gave her the best of both worlds, for this woman was both beautiful and _tall_. He realized that when she stepped over the bike and stood before him. She was easily six feet tall, maybe a bit more, and possessed of a figure that was perfectly proportional to her height. Her thoughts were guarded, but were also hopeful.

"Well, you must be the new guy," she said in a distinctive Southern drawl. "Welcome to the neighborhood, sugah."

"Excuse me, but who are you?" he asked.

"Temika," she answered. "Temika Daniels, sugah. I just rode down from Chillicothe and heard that someone done went and kicked Joe Bueller's ass. Ah just had to come meet you. Maybe kiss you, I hated that vicious bastard."

"Well, nice to meet you. I'm Jason Fox," he said, extending his hand. She looked at it, then gave him a nervous glance.

"Sorry, sugah, I don't like tah touch people," she hedged. "It ain't no offense or nuthin', I promise. Hope you understand."

Curious, Jason opened himself to listen to her thoughts. She was _very_ worried about touching him, or just about anyone else, for that matter. She didn't want _it_ to happen. He had no idea what _it_ was, but whatever it was, Temika was quite fearful of it. It wasn't an irrational fear, it was an almost cold, logical fear. Odd.

"Might you see fit to offer a gal a drink? It gets dusty out on the road," she said hopefully.

"Just water, I'm afraid."

"Sugah, that's about all there is," she laughed. "I heard you just come from outside, it certainly shows."

Jason gave her a second look. "Hold on. You wouldn't be the Temika Daniels who played for the Volunteers, would you?"

She laughed. "I'm surprised anyone remembers that," she said. "But yeah, sugah, that's me."

"Surprised to see you out here," he said. "Come on in, I'll get you some water."

"Well, it wasn't entirely my choice," she told him as she followed him. Jason closed his mind again; he had a strange feeling that this strange woman could potentially be a friend, and he didn't want a stray word to slip and make her suspicious. "Ah bitch-slapped a blueskin cause she got in mah face, and got hauled to one of their 're-education centers'," she grunted. "Had a mindbender mentally rape me with a cattle prod, then they sent me to a farm. Ah was never much of a farmer, so Ah skipped out a few days after Ah got there. Mama always said my temper'd get me in hot water," she said with a chuckle. "Ah been out heah for about two years or so. I do pretty well for mahself. Ah get by running stuff back and forth for some of the more friendly people out heah. Between what Ah can get doin' that and what Ah can scavenge, Ah get by. Long as Ah can get gas for my bike, Ah'm as happy as a pig in mud."

"You trade?" he asked, looking back at her as he opened to front door.

She nodded. "They ain't all like Jim Bueller and the gangs in Huntington, sugah. The peoples up in the hills, they more friendly, if'n you approach them the right way, you understand. Cause Ah got a bike and the nerve to run the roads, Ah do fairly well enough deliverin' stuff from one place to anothah. The Becketts up in Fort Gay send eggs to the Prices ovah in Ona, who send a jug of milk down to the McMarrins in Wayne, who send some meat back to the Becketts. That kinda thing, you see."

"And you're the delivery girl."

"You bet, sugah," she grinned as she sat down at the kitchen table, where he motioned. "Ah also shuttle information around, keep everyone in touch with what's goin' on. Every gang and the unfriendlies around heah would just love to shoot me off mah bike, but they ain't managed it yet. They lost count of the raids Ah done ruined when Ah spotted them slinkin' up into the hills."

"How many people are out there?"

"Not as many as it sounds, sugah," she answered. "Once you get out of the bigger towns, you can go twenty miles before you see a single soul. The towns are where the stuff is, though, so that's where most people come. If they lucky, they get shot. If they not, they become those bastard gang members," she spat.

"Why don't those people out there just move away from the cities?"

"Cause they ain't as self-sufficient as some others," she answered. "The lucky ones, they got small farms out there, livestock, stuff like that. They's the ones that live way out, way down the back roads, where the raiding parties won't go. Those people who live by scavenging, they gotta live where the stuff is, you understand. They mainly nomads, you see, moving into an area and tryin' tah find the houses ain't nobody else found, then move on when the food's all gone. And when they get desperate, they come down into the cities, tryin' tah find stuff and get out before they done get caught. Some have learned tah hunt, and some tah fish, but most that don't got the setup still have to scavenge food tah make it. The raids the gangs send out, they more to catch those kinds of folk than they are to catch the locals. They know bettah than to go aftah some of the locals."

"Why is that?"

"They'd get dead, that's why. The locals who live near town, they're dug in like an Alabama tick, sugah," she answered. "The gangs learned that lesson the hard way. Those raids, they generally just go 'round and try tah find new houses, and pick off anyone they catch out in the open. They know where it ain't healthy tah go, cause they ain't all gonna come back." She took a long drink from the glass of water he gave her. "It's cold!"

"I got the electricity going," he told her.

"Well, Ah'm gonna come visit you more often, sugah," she said with a brilliant white smile. She obviously kept up with her oral hygiene. "When it gets hot. Why ain't you got the AC on?"

"I have to fix it," he answered.

"Get tah work, sugah," she laughed.

"So, what made you seek me out?" he asked.

"Just checkin' out the new neighbor, sugah," she smiled. "And of course, an opportunity for a new customer. If'n you ever need anythin', or need somethin' sent somewhere else, you're lookin' at the gal for the job. Oh yeah, y'all need a CB, sugah, most people 'round here use CB channel 19 tah talk tah each other."

"They should listen in on the gangs," Jason grunted. "They use radios."

"They do, sugah, they do," she winked. "The ones with scanners do, anyway."

"I have, what, eight of them? You can have a couple."

Temika laughed. "War trophies?"

"Something like that," he answered. "The only guy that came to my side of the river and got back with anything managed to get away with his shoes. Every other person went back over the bridge naked. I got it all. Clothes, pocket knives, radios, guns, you name it."

Temika laughed brightly, slapping the top of the table. Then she seemed to perk up a bit. "Guns, you say? Well, I know a few people that might like tah do some business with you on the guns. If'n you don't want them, that is."

"As long as they don't use them on me, sure," he answered. "I don't need them."

"Yah, we've heard. you got some Faey guns, and a Faey airplane."

He nodded. "I've been watching to see if, or when, they're coming after it," he told her. "I have a pilot's license, I know how their system works. I think I did a good job in evading their systems, but I'm not sure. If they had any orbital tracking up when I pulled my Houdini, they know where I am. If they didn't, then I have a good chance of them now knowing where I am."

"You were a pilot on the outside?"

He shook his head. "A student. I just got lucky and came into a little money, and used it to get a Faey pilot license. That skimmer down there is mine. I didn't steal it, I _bought_ it."

"Wow, sounds like you had a good life. Why'd you give it up tah come join the rat race?"

"Because I remembered what it was like to be free," he said simply. "And I got tired of living in fear under the Faey all the time. I decided it was better to live out here and be free than have all the money in the world, yet be part of the Faey system."

"Heh, I ain't sure I woulda done it if our places were swapped," she said. "Sometimes I miss feelin' safe. And I certainly miss air conditionin'," she laughed.

"A person who is willing to give up part of his freedom to feel more secure deserves neither," he quoted. "Benjamin Franklin said that, or something close to it. Not sure what he had to say about air conditioning, though."

She looked at him with those almond shaped brown eyes, then burst into laughter. "Yeah, well, at least you got here with more stuff than most of us. I got here with the clothes on mah back."

"Looks like you did well enough. A motorcycle, nice clothes, and whatever it is you have I haven't seen yet."

"Yeah, I do alright, but it certainly wasn't easy," she said with a wistful sigh. Jason had to resist the urge to listen to her thoughts. An attractive woman struggling to make it out here? He had no doubt it would have been hard. Then again, Temika Daniels was known for ferocity, not timidity. She'd been the starting center for the University of Tennessee women's basketball team. He remember watching her play once when they played against Michigan. She was a wolverine out on the basketball court, huge compared to the other players, powerful, and _very_ aggressive. They called her the Queen of the Glass, because she was the most prolific rebounder in college women's basketball. Some not too kind to her in the press called her the Dennis Rodman of women's basketball, but she really wasn't that bad. She had the same aggressive demeanor on the court as that infamous professional player, but she didn't pull the same off-court antics. It would have been closer to call her the Shaquille O'Neal of women's basketball, for she had the same towering presence, but lacked the ego.

"Would you mind, sugah?" she asked, holding out her glass.

"Sure," he said, taking it. He went back to the refrigerator and poured her another glass of cold water, then brought it back to the table. "How hard is it to find gas?"

"It's gettin' harder," she grunted. "Ah know a few places out in the boonies where they ain't got all the gas out of the underground tanks yet, but Ah've been havin' tah range out further and further. Ah've been makin' contact with more people, which is good, but Ah also don't know the areas as well, and that ain't good. More and more, Ah've been demandin' gas as pay, but Ah can't eat gas, you know."

"You need an airbike," he told her.

"Ah _wish_," she said with an explosive sigh. "Ah've wanted one of those things since Ah saw it. Ah don't see how Ah could ever get one, though."

"Don't you ever cross over into Faey territory?" he asked.

"Surely, sugah," she said. "Ah'm one of the few who does, cause you have to sneak through their security. But not many people out heah have Faey money, and the shops out there, they don't take trades."

"What do you do over there then?"

"Ah deliver messages," she answered. "They's people on this side with kin on the outside. Ah deliver messages back and forth. They either write letters that Ah mail, or Ah use pay phones on the outside tah call 'em."

"Why don't they just get cell phones? They'd never track them back in here. Hell, the Faey wouldn't even care. As long as the people in here don't mess with the system, they just leave you alone."

"Them phones cost money, sugah," she reminded him. "And that most certainly _ain't_ reality. Every once in a while, the blueskins send patrols out. They fan out and interrogate anyone they catch, then let 'em go. Ah've been caught a few times, and it ain't no fun, trust me. They get in your mind and take anythin' they want. It's like gettin' raped," she said with a sharp snort. "Then, if they like somethin' you own, they just take it. That bike out there, it's my third. They done took the other two. They don't like send troops in heah or nothin', but they don't just leave us alone, either."

"So, you know how to sneak across the border," Jason mused. "I think we're about to do business, Temika."

"Yeah? Over what, sugah?"

"You're gonna teach me how to safely get across the border, then take me across. After you do, I'll pay you."

"And just what are you willin' tah pay, sugah?" she asked. "What you want's a fair piece dangerous. Sneakin' over the border ain't for greenhorns, sugah. It ain't easy. You'd better have something good tah pay for it."

"How about an airbike?"

"As _if_," she protested.

"I have two in my airskimmer, Temika. Teach me how to get across the border, and one of them is yours. I'll even teach you how to ride it."

"You're serious," she challenged.

"I'll show them to you right now," he offered. "I don't need two. Teach me how to come and go across the border as I please, and one is all yours."

"Deal," she said instantly, putting her hand out, then blinking and quickly pulling it away.

"Don't you want to see the airbike?"

"Sugah, you just became mah best friend," she laughed. "Yeah, Ah'd love to see them."

They walked out into the noontime sun and towards the bridge, and Jason took a moment to take stock of this woman. She walked easily, fluidly, but there was a tension to her steps, like she was ready to bolt at the drop of a pin, the wariness of a woman who survived by her wits and her reflexes. But there was an aire about her that let Jason trust her. He didn't know what it was, almost like a feeling that exuded from her, but he knew that she was sincere, and that she'd do exactly what she promised in return for the airbike he had promised in return. Well, there was that, and the butt of a pistol jutting out from under the flap of her vest. A _big_ handle.

"That's a piece of hardware," he noted, looking at her chest, and not at her generous bosom.

"Aww, this ol' thing?" she asked, reaching behind her. To Jason's surprise, she pulled out a long-barreled .44 Magnum revolver... one of the most powerful handguns ever manufactured. "It ain't nothin much, sugah. Just for crackin' the engine blocks of cars chasin' me, that's all," she added with a sly smile.

"I'm surprised you'd carry a gun that big around. It must be hard to shoot with one hand."

"They all know Ah have it, sugah. Just the threat of it alone's usually enough tah make 'em think twice. And yes, sugah, Ah can shoot it with one hand. Ah just gotta lock mah elbow, that's all. Hurts like hell and always makes mah arm sore, but Ah can do it."

"_I_ wouldn't even try to shoot that with one hand. You're a better man than me."

"Sugah, Ah ain't no man," she laughed, boldly patting her breast. "Ah think these prove that."

"Hey, in today's world, you never know..." he tapered off, which made her laugh again.

"Ah got Ol' Betsy here, and Ah have a 30-30 and a sawed-off shotgun in the saddleskirts of mah Harley," she confided, replacing the weapon in the shoulder holster that was hidden under her vest. "A girl of independent means has tah be able tah protect herself, you know."

"I can see that," he chuckled.

"Ah heard you got Faey guns. Care tah give a gal a peek?"

"Not on me," he answered honestly. "I'll show them to you later, if you still want to see them."

She tutted. "That's not a good idea, sugah. _Nevah_ go out yo' door without a gun on you. _Evah_. you'd be smart tah carry around a gun with you when you're inside, tah boot. Ol' Betsy heah don't evah come off mah shoulder, less Ah'm takin' a bath or Ah'm sleepin'."

"I don't need a gun, Temika. I have this." He held out his remote control.

"And what's that, sugah?"

"An absolute guarantee that nobody within a quarter mile of my house is going to do _anything_," he answered. "It turns on that," he explained to her blank look, pointing at the emitter on the top of the steeple. "It generates a hypersonic harmonic that causes severe itching. Anyone within a thousand feet of that emitter would feel like they were dropped in a vat of itching powder if I turned it on. Nobody would have the ability to shoot at me."

"Well, what about you?"

"It would affect me too," he admitted. "But I have a safe room in my house."

"So you ain't got no protection right now, 'cept maybe me," she said with a sneaky grin.

"I'm perfectly safe," he said calmly. "I'm not sure the gang across the bridge even has any more guns to bring over here."

Temika laughed as they went under the bridge, then she pulled up short and gawked at his sleek winged skimmer for a moment. "Ah always did love blue," she sighed. "She run?"

"Yeah, but I have it powered down. The Faey would detect her if I powered her up."

"Then they know you came heah."

"They weren't looking for me when I left," he told her. "They probably are _now_, though. I've missed an appointment that made them notice I'm not there anymore. Come on, we'll use the cargo door in the back."

"Can you open her up without power?"

He nodded. "The doors are only power-assisted. They work just fine without power." He unlocked the doors with his skimmer remote, then pulled them open. The two airbikes were stowed inside, side by side, at the very back of the rather small cargo area. "There they are," he told her. "Two _JX-31_ recreational airbikes," he recited, using the Faey language to give their names, as there was no way to translate it.

"Yah speak they language, eh?" she said, leaning in and looking at the bike with undisguised longing. "Yah know, they'd probably hunt me down if'n Ah started ridin' around on an airbike," she sighed.

"Why would they? Don't squatters have some Faey technology out here?"

"Yeah, but nothin' quite so showy," she said. "Biggest thing Ah of is the vidlink that the Johnsons down by Milton have, but it don't work no more. Ah'd be afraid they'd come flyin' in and shoot me down."

"I doubt it. Even if they did notice you, I doubt they'd mount an armed expedition to come in here and try to capture you. It would be a big waste of time. Besides, it's not like you have to ride it _all_ the time."

"When the gas runs out, Ah will," she sighed. "But then again, at least then Ah'll have some reliable transportation."

"It's up to you, Temika," he told her seriously.

"Ah want it," she said immediately.

"Alrighty then," he said, reaching in and touching a button on the side of the skimmer. It caused the maglocks to disengage. He then turned the key on the airbike, which started its engine and caused it to rise off the deck. A single hand on the seat pulled the machine out, where it hung in midair.

"_Now_?" Temika asked. "Sugah, Ah ain't got no way to get it outta heah."

"You're not taking it yet," he told her calmly as he mounted it. "But you do need to learn how to ride it. I won't give it to you until I'm sure you won't immediately fall off and get yourself killed. So," he said, reaching behind himself and patting the saddle. "For once, you have to ride shotgun."

Temika laughed. "Sugah, Ah ain't _nevah_ rode in the bitch seat, and Ah ain't about tah start now."

"It's the back seat or the Harley," he said seriously. "You can't learn riding one on your own, and I won't let you have it until you can."

"Yah can teach me on the ground."

"I can teach you the controls, but until you ride one, you won't understand what it's like," he told her. "These aren't a Harley, Temika. Trust me."

"Ah, uh, well, hellfire," she said with a rueful chuckle. "Alright. But mind you, sugah, Ah ain't nevah rode on a bike that Ah wasn't drivin' mahself."

"I'll be careful," he promised.

She reached out and put her hand on his shoulder, then moved to straddle the airbike after getting a foot on one of the footbars. Her hand slid up his shirt, then the side of her finger made contact with his neck. That physical contact acted like a conduit, awakening his talent almost against his will. Her concern poured into him, her wariness, but also a desire, a _need_ to trust him, to know that there really were good people out there besides the ones she already knew. She was much more nervous than she seemed to be, but she felt oddly comfortable around him, more comfortable than she'd ever felt with any stranger. The very idea that he was brave enough to walk around without a gun amazed her, impressed her so much that she was inclined to trust him, to take him at his word, even when every bit of her past experience warned her against doing that. He was so calm, so confident, he radiated a strength that reassured her, put her at ease. She felt very much at ease around Jason Fox, even though her instincts cried out against it.

She was aware of the contact. He sensed her suddenly react to the realization that she was touching his skin by immediately moving her hand, with a surge of fear accompanying it. She didn't want _it_ to happen again. The last time _it_ happened, it took days for her to recover.

Now, now he just had to know. He opened his mind and touched her thoughts gently, listening to her surface thoughts, and also listening for the deeper thoughts that he could pick up without having to actively enter her mind. Like any mind, there was much more going on in there than even Temika realized. There were thoughts beneath thoughts beneath thoughts, a web of mental activity of which Temika was only dimly aware. He listened, ignoring those thoughts that didn't answer his question, actively ignoring the opportunity to listen to any number of juicy secrets about her, like private thoughts, desires, fantasies, and needs. He kept a mental ear out for "it," but nothing crossed her mind where he could see it. He reached out with extreme gentleness, touching her mind, trying to gain access to it without attacking or intruding. He didn't want her to know what he was doing. She said she'd been probed before, so he had to be careful. She was a nervous, defensive woman, but her mind had no defenses in place, and he found that he could gain access to it by simply applying the lightest of pressures for a period of time, until he slipped through the natural defense that all sentient beings had around their minds, that wall of self that marked the boundary between them and the outside world. Once he was inside, he was very, very careful not to do anything that would betray what he was doing. He moved through the upper layers of her mind like a ghost, doing nothing, not looking at any of her upper-layer thoughts. What he needed to look at were her memories, so that was where he went. He touched on her memory gently, carefully, kind of rolling through them looking for any memory that involved being touched. He found one, then used that reference to track down the root cause of the event.

What he did only took the blink of an eye; the rules of time in the mindscape were much different. But when he was done, he pulled away from her, both disturbed and disgusted at the cruelty that some could exhibit.

Her fear of physical contact was a triggered reaction to what the Faey had done to her the last time they'd captured and interrogated her. That kind of deep probing required physical contact by anyone short of a Marine, and the Faey who had probed her hadn't been all that good. She'd been damn clumsy for that matter, and caused Temika to suffer psychotraumatic shock. What that Faey had done to Temika's mind was equivalent to someone whipping her with a scourge in a physical sense, tearing her mind open and leaving it raw and exposed, then withdrawing without trying to repair the damage she'd done. It was a miracle that Temika was even sane, but somehow, she had managed to recover, her mind healing from that brutal experience. Temika had buried the memory of that mental torture deeply into her mind, only remembering that it had involved touching. So now she had a near phobia involving physical contact, terrified that if someone touched her or she touched another, she'd suffer that pain again. _It_ was a panic attack induced by touching, and it took her days sometimes to recover from them.

Jyslin and Symone represented the best of the Faey's traits, and knowing them had softened his concept of the Faey Imperium. But it was times like this that he was reminded that they were the _exception_, not the _rule_.

He said nothing, allowing her to get comfortable, then he felt her lean over his shoulder to look at the controls. He explained them to her, showing her the differences involved in operating a bike that could move in all three directions, then he launched them from the street like a rocket. Temika cursed in surprise, then laughed as she got a firm grip on his waist. He turned hard, letting her feel the G-forces involved, making her understand that flying off the bike was more than a possibility if she wasn't careful; airbikes did have seat belts, but not even those would save someone if they did a bad turn and submarined right out of the seat belt. Jason never bothered with the seat belt himself; properly driving the airbike, he'd never be in a position to need them. He was careful not to take them over Huntington, instead flying them out over the hills of southern Ohio, letting her enjoy the thrill of riding on the airbike and gawk at the view.

When he set them down by the skimmer, Temika was out of breath. "That was great!" she cried as she jumped off the back.

"Yeah, they're fun, but did you understand how I drove it?" he asked pointedly.

"Yeah, sugah. You have tah bank into your turns or you'll fly off, and you have to be careful with speedin' up and slowin' down, especially when y'all are climbin' or droppin'."

Jason nodded appreciatively. "Not bad, you _were_ paying attention."

"Sugah, they ain't a bike been made that Ah can't ride," she said with a grin. "Ah want a go. Your turn in the bitch seat, sugah."

"Not with that hair flailing the skin off my face, it's not," he told her bluntly. "You need to tie it up."

"Ah like it loose, Ah love the feel of it flyin' in the wind," she protested.

"Yeah, and you'll get dreadlocks if you keep it up," he said, dismounting from the bike.

"Ah know. It's hell pullin' a comb through mah hair every night, but Ah do it cause Ah don't want dreadlocks."

"Well, I'm not riding behind you, so I'll get the other bike out and you can ride with me," he said. "I think you'll be alright, you just need practice with the controls."

"It ain't all that much different from a Harley. You just got extra buttons, that's all."

It certainly wasn't planned, but the afternoon turned out to be rather fun. Jason tutored Temika in operating an airbike, and though she was very clumsy and tentative at first, she learned very quickly. Airbikes really _weren't_ that hard to fly, and it took Temika only about two hours to get the hang of it. By the time the sun started to set in the west, Temika was zipping her airbike around as easily as she rode her Harley. She had her goggles down, her vest flapping in the breeze, and she looked like she was having the time of her life. She was visibly disappointed when they landed the airbikes by the skimmer, and he told her he had to put them away. "Shit, Ah'm spoiled now," she laughed. "Mah Harley ain't gonna feel like no fun at all."

"You can take your airbike any time," he told her calmly. "I trust you to hold up your part of the bargain."

She nodded. "Any time you want tah go, sugah, just let me know."

"It won't be anytime in the near future. Not until I'm sure the Faey can't find me."

"Okay, sugah. Ah don't listen to the CB while on the road mahself, but if I miss it, you put out the call that you're lookin' for me. It'll find its way tah me, and I'll be on the way tah you. Ah'm usually where Ah'm called within two days of the call goin' out." She sighed and stroked the side of the airbike she'd been riding fondly, then patted it. "Ah'll come back for this later, sugah," she told him. "Though Ah do much appreciate you teaching me tah ride it today. Ah haven't had that much fun in months."

"Yeah, I had a good day too," he agreed. "You gonna get home before dark?"

She shook her head. "Ah don't have much of a home, sugah. Ah live off my bike more than anythin' else. Ah do have a couple of places where Ah keep some stuff, but 