The surveillance cameras and Tow Away Zone—No Stopping signs told her. “There goes plan A,” she muttered. Abu slowed down. “What do you want me to do?” “Drive the minimum speed limit,” Kris said, lowering her window. It got windy. HOW ARE THE NANOS DOING? THEY ARE OKAY. WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO DO? “I am at fifty-five. If I go slower, they will notice.” “Roll down the window behind you, if you can.” He did; the wind tunnel effect through the car got most pronounced. MY NANOS CAN’T TAKE THIS! Nelly shouted in Kris’s head. She had her finger on the window button; it was coming up even as the shout bounced around her skull. Abu had been paying attention; the rear window came up only a split second behind Kris’s. HOW ARE THE NANOS? I CAN FIX THEM. “What do I do now? Abu asked. Kris rubbed at her shawl-covered head, trying to relieve the tension gripping her scalp. “Plan A and B didn’t work. We need a plan C.” “I see,” said the cabby. Kris scowled at his joke; he tossed her off with a small grin.
