The faded sign made me think of Arnie, and I felt a little pang. I really ought to check up on the grumpy mechanic. But then again, his place was probably being watched. Could our actions have landed him in trouble? I hoped not, but at the very least, he must have been questioned about us. In the distance, we could hear the faint sounds of protesting voices, reverberating to us through long rows of tall, dark tenements. It was as if there was a lively children’s playground somewhere nearby, except that the cries came to us against a background of deep-toned chants. The streets here were relatively busy with slow-moving aircars, probably traffic that had been diverted from wherever the marchers were. We were boarding, taking the side of Thirty-First Street that was in the deep shadows cast by the blocks of residential units that towered above us. We’d made our plan back inside the tank. While Athena and Milan went into the restaurant opposite and took seats in the window, Nathan and I waited in a nearby parking lot, performing boarding tricks like we used to, as if all the pressures on us were forgotten.
