Chapter 1
Sally
Tim held the roach between two fingers, its segmented body twitching. Sally's eyes tracked the movement, unblinking. He had learned not to move first. He held his hand above the enclosure and waited. Sally waited beneath it. The roach was the only one making an effort to leave.
Eventually, her head tilted left.
"Don't."
Her tongue flicked. He lowered the roach into the enclosure. Sally ignored it, lunging for his thumb instead. A sharp pinch, then the familiar sting. He pulled his hand away.
"Every morning."
Sally caught the roach and disappeared beneath her rock. Tim looked at the rock. Nothing further appeared to be required of him.
The drawer creaked open. Bandages lined the interior, stacked like bricks. Four fingertips were already wrapped. He added a fifth, pressing the adhesive down with a finger that made the job less straightforward than it should have been. The loose wrapper stuck to another bandage. He peeled it off, missed the drawer with his elbow, and closed it with his hip.
Tim dressed in silence. When he returned to the enclosure, Sally was waiting outside her rock. He offered his sleeve. She climbed onto his shoulder as he pulled his jacket straight, finding her place against the collar. He checked that she was settled before leaving.
On his walk to work, an autonomous bus stopped beside him at a transit stop. Its doors opened.
"Good morning, Timothy. Depot District?"
He didn't stop.
"No."
"Transit employees ride without charge."
"I know."
The doors hissed shut. The bus moved away while Tim continued along the pavement. Sally adjusted her grip on his collar. He lifted a hand until she had finished, then lowered it again.
The ad loomed beside the pavement:
HYDRATE NOW. PAY TOMORROW.
Below it, a bottle gleamed against mountains:
PREMIUM WATER — NOW WITH REAL ORGANIC WATER.
And beneath that:
FREE WATER WITH BLOOD DONATION.
Tim read the last line. He looked down at his wrapped thumb. Sally turned her head toward the bottle.
"Don't get any ideas."
She stayed where she was. He continued to the depot.
After clocking in, Tim approached his assigned bus.
"Good morning, Tim. All systems nominal."
He tapped his clipboard.
"We'll see."
The bus hummed. Tim balanced the clipboard against his forearm and worked his pen free of its clip. The handwritten boxes were his. So were the labels beside them. Nobody at Dallas Transit had asked for either.
He circled the bus, checking a sensor, a wheel housing, an emergency door. At each one he stopped before making the mark. Sally leaned with him when he bent to look beneath the chassis. He straightened slowly, waited for her claws to stop moving against his collar, and checked another box.
"Exterior inspection unnecessary. All systems nominal."
Tim put the pen between his fingers, found a grip that did not press on his thumb, and pushed gently against an exterior panel. It stayed where it belonged. He checked its edge anyway.
"That's what you said Tuesday."
"All systems were nominal Tuesday."
"You had a loose panel."
"The panel remained within operational tolerance."
Tim looked up from the clipboard.
"Loose."
He finished the walkaround, looking back along the marks before returning the pen to its clip. One tick stopped short of the corner of its box. He freed the pen again and completed it.
The doors opened. Tim approached with Sally still on his shoulder.
"Unregistered animal detected."
"Sally."
"Sally remains unregistered."
"And yet here we are."
Tim stepped inside through the open doors. He put the clipboard away and sat in the attendant seat. Sally climbed down his sleeve to the warm ledge beside him. She turned, settled, and tucked her feet closer beneath her.
The doors closed. The bus pulled away from the depot. Tim never touched a control. He was working his battered paperback out of his jacket without catching the bandage on his thumb.
SPACE JUNKER.
He opened it, smoothed the page with the side of his hand, and began to read.
At the first stop, the bus came to rest and opened its doors. A woman with a duffel boarded, then a man with a clipboard. Tim glanced at the clipboard. The man held it against his chest with the writing turned inward. Tim returned to his page.
A child followed. A toy clattered to the floor and rolled toward the front. Tim stopped it with his shoe. The child retrieved it, looked at Sally, then at Tim.
Tim moved his foot out of the way.
The child carried the toy farther into the bus. Sally watched until the aisle was clear, then settled her chin against the ledge. The doors closed. The bus hummed. Tim read.
At another stop, a man with a briefcase boarded ahead of a woman carrying a plant. He paused to let her past, then stepped into the space she had chosen. They both stopped. He moved back. She moved back too.
Tim kept a finger between the pages.
The woman lifted the plant. The man turned sideways. Leaves brushed his shoulder as she passed, and he looked down at his briefcase as though checking that it had not caused the difficulty. They found places. Tim removed his finger and went on reading.
Passengers got off. Others boarded. Sally shifted on the ledge, bringing her head nearer the aisle. Tim glanced over the top of the paperback. She was still there. He read on.
At the next stop, a new passenger boarded carrying a bag and paused just inside the open doors.
Something inside scratched twice against the bag.
Tim held his place. The bag was still. The passenger looked along the aisle.
After a pause, something inside scratched once more.
Tim lowered Space Junker.