"It ain't a fancy-looking hack, but she's got full armor, heavy-duty gyros, crash-shocks, two-way music and panic gear. I ain't got a better hack in the place."
Stenn nodded, popped the hatch and got in. I climbed in the front and adjusted the seat and controls to give me a little room. When I kicked over the turbos they sounded good.
"Better tie in, Mr. Stenn," I said. "We'll take the Canada turnpike in. You can brief me on the way."
I wheeled 16 around and out under the glare-sign that read "HAUG ESCORT." In the eastbound linkway I boosted her up to 90. From the way the old bus stepped off, she had at least a megahorse under the hood. Maybe Haug wasn't lying, I thought. I pressed an elbow against the power pistol strapped to my side.
I liked the feel of it there. Maybe between it and old 16 I could get there and back after all.
"My destination," Stenn said, "is the Manhattan section."
That suited me perfectly. In fact, it was the first luck I'd had since I burned the uniform. I looked in the rear viewer at Stenn's face. He still wore no expression. He seemed like a mild little man to be wanting into the cage with the tigers.
"That's pretty rough territory, Mr. Stenn," I said. He didn't answer.
"Not many tourists go there," I went on. I wanted to pry a little information from him.