Finally, she spotted a nondescript booth just where the market directory had said it would be. The walls were lined with shelves that sagged from their jumble of tools and android parts and outdated portscreens stacked three layers deep.
Mech6.0 rolled up to the table that blocked the entrance. A girl was standing near the back of the booth, wearing thick work gloves and cargo pants, scanning something with a portscreen. She paused and tapped her fingers against the screen, then reshuffled some items on the shelf before scanning another item.
“Pardon … me,” said Mech6.0, her senses crackling at the effort. She did not have many opportunities to speak at the shipyard, and the long trek had already drained her power source.
The girl glanced toward her. “Oh—sorry! I’ll be with you in just a minute.” She finished entering whatever data she was working on and clipped the portscreen to her belt. “How can I help you?”
“Looking for … Linh Cinder.”
“You found her.” The girl tilted her head to one side, furrowing her brow. “Is your voice box on the fritz?”
“Whole … body,” said Mech6.0. “Purchase … new?”
It took a moment, but then Linh Cinder nodded. “Oh, sure. I can do that. Is your owner around?”
Mech6.0 felt a sudden drop in power, but was relieved when it was only a temporary loss. Now that she’d found the mechanic, she shut off her net database in order to conserve what energy she could. “No owner.”
Linh Cinder’s brow furrowed. Her eyes darted to the android dealer across the way. “Oh. I see.” She reached for her portscreen again and set it on the table between them, before typing in a few commands. “Well. All right, so I can order up a replacement mech body today, but it usually takes about a week to get here, unless the warehouse downtown has some in stock. You’re a 6.0, right? It doesn’t look like they have any. Do you mind waiting a week?”
“Can I … wait here?”
“Uh…” Hesitating, Cinder glanced over her shoulder at the booth, cluttered with machines and toolboxes. Then she shrugged. “Sure, I can probably clear a space for you.” Tightening her ponytail, she sat down in the chair that had been pushed beneath the table. “But if you don’t have an owner … how do you plan on paying for this?”
Paying.
Money. Currency. Univs. To give compensation for goods or services.
Androids did not get paid.
“Trade,” said Mech6.0.
“Trade?” Cinder dipped her gaze over Mech6.0’s battered form. “For what?”
Mech6.0 opened the compartment in her abdomen. Her prongs found the metal locket on its chain first and wrapped around it.
Her fan slowed—almost stopped.
Releasing the locket, she searched again, and her grippers emerged with the small holographic card instead. She placed it on the table.
Removing the glove from her right hand, Cinder picked up the card and flipped it over, reading the words on the back before turning it so that the holograph projected from the flat surface.
“A Prince Kai holographic trading card,” she muttered, rubbing her brow with her gloved hand. “Because that’s all I need.” Sighing, she peered at Mech6.0 again. “I’m sorry, but this is only worth about twenty micro-univs. It would barely buy you a screw.” She looked truly regretful as she handed the card back. Mech6.0 pinched it gently between her prongs.
“Do you have anything else?”
Her processor pulsed. The locket.
But it was not hers. It belonged to Dataran, and she was going to return it to him. When she had her new body. When she saw him again.
Her power source dropped low again. The colors of the world dimmed beyond her sensor’s eye.
“Nothing … else.”
Linh Cinder frowned sympathetically. “Then I’m sorry. I can’t help you.”
Mech6.0 analyzed the situation again, calculating the potential worth of the locket and the importance that she received a new body, and soon. But despite her logical reasoning telling her that the locket might be valued high enough to complete the trade, there was a new factor involved in the calculation. The value of her one possession—something that had been Dataran’s. The value of his smile when she returned it to him.
She knew that the decision was illogical, that she would be returning nothing at all if she didn’t get a new body, and yet she still found herself tucking the holographic card against her torso and turning away. Which was when she realized that she had nowhere to go, and besides, she wouldn’t make it very far. She spotted the used android dealer down the way, and a darkness settled in her vision, washing all the color away entirely.
Her treads clattered as she started back through the crowd.
“Wait.”
Pausing, she spun back to face the mechanic, who was rubbing her fingers against her temple again, leaving a dark smudge on her skin.
“You remind me of a friend of mine. Iko, also an android,” she said. Then she added, gesturing to the card, “Plus, my little sister really loves that guy. So … here, I think I might have something. Hang on.”