Billy's New Car

Billy was so excited at the imminent delivery of his new car that he nearly bubbled over with excitement as he rode home in Sadie, his old Edison Mark-III. He flashed his pearly whites in the rear-view mirror.

“How do I look, Sadie?”

“Like a million bucks, Billy!” said Sadie. “Too bad you don’t have that much money, low-rent loser!”

“I’ve got enough, rusty bucket of bolts. Twenty-three years of hawking solar inverters and it’s time for me to see the Aggregate States in style.”

“Style!” snorted Sadie. “What do you know about style? With your off-the-rack salesman suits and your synthvinyl shoes! I was built twenty years ago in the Ann Arbor ConGlom and I’ve got more style in my left front hubcap than you’ve got in your entire wardrobe.”

Billy grinned. He had just completed his last sale and in a few minutes, he would be back in Peoria to receive his shiny new Electra XF Type-R ground car. No more rolling across burning superdeserts to sell inverters to dusty settlements. No more sweating in his suit while waiting for a contract to close. He would travel where he pleased, when he pleased.

“I know you just say that ‘cause you love me, Sadie. How’s that UV?”

“A little high today,” said Sadie. There was a hole in the screen letting UV skeet across the right side of the dash. No threat to Billy, but it was already discoloring the plastic.

“That new Electra has an atmospheric culturator. Think of it! I can drive through the Middle South Aggregate without even noticing the hundred-and-fifty-degree heat!”

“My air conditioning could handle that,” grumbled Sadie.

“I haven’t forgotten, Sadie. You’re the best car I’ve ever owned, really!”

Sadie was silent, her tires rumbling across asphalt crumbling under an unforgiving sun.

Billy gazed out the window at the yellow, lifeless landscape of the Great Lakes aggregate. There was little traffic on the 74 today, which was mostly harvesters lumbering their way toward the looming hydroponics towers that had replaced farmland so long ago. The outer solar farms of Peoria hove into view, glinting like jewels. Swarms of bots clambered across the giant panels, clearing them of desert dust deposited by the last storm.

“I know where I want to go first!” Billy exclaimed.

“The toilet to soak your big head?” said Sadie.

“No, you bucket of bolts! The rainforests of the Badlands. NASACorp says they’ve grown half a kilometer in the past year. At that rate, it’ll reach the Missouri Riverbed within a decade. They might be able to repopulate Pierre!”

“Wish I was going to be there to see it. Of course, you’ll be going there in your sexy new ride…”

“I’ll be taking lots of pictures, Sadie.”

“But who’s going to keep you from getting eaten by the new panthers the EPA Corps introduced there?”

“Why would I need you for that?” groused Billy, knowing what was coming next.

“Remember that hitchhiker you wanted to pick up in the Manitoba Zone? Who saw the highwaymen hiding behind that dune?”

“Hey it’s only right to pick up a stranded –”

“And you would have been stranded yourself after you got robbed! I tell you, they shoulda’ sent an armored sales rep on that run. And who found that shelter with the prepper’s supplies when the UV spiked?”

Billy rolled his eyes.

“I would have seen that shelter. Besides, that prepper’s food stores were terrible! It was all freeze-dried quiche!”

“And when the Southwestern Aggregate closed their border? Who faked a flash-diplomatic clearance transmission to get you through, with that Utah Wastelander gang hot on your tail?”

“Okay, maybe you saved my butt more times than I could count,” said Billy, “but the Electra XF has the latest in survival tech. I’ll be fine.”

“Could that Electra ever hook you up with Leesa?”

Billy’s heart skipped a beat, his thoughts going back to his second wife, the Nova Solar rep who sampled his inverters. He remembered how Sadie had looked up Leesa’s profile online and delivered icebreakers for him to use, how they failed disastrously, how Leesa had giggled at his awkwardness. He remembered how much the two had enjoyed the synthvinyl seats right behind him while Sadie played Leesa’s favorite Neo-Synth R&B crooner.

“Do you still miss her?”

“It’s done with. Time to move on.”

Billy rode on in silence until the solar farms surrendered to decrepit and abandoned ‘burbs. Billy couldn’t see the refugees who were living in these rotting houses, and they certainly wouldn’t be out and about in this blistering UV. Sadie’s sensor suite could probably sweep them, and she would tell him if he asked. Did he care? Billy hated the ‘burbs. Too many ghosts there, lingering memories of a comfortable, but wasteful life.

Leesa had been in the business of not only setting up solar farms, but hardening ‘burb dwellings against UV and dust storms. It was doomed enterprise, but it fit Leesa’s optimistic outlook. Last he heard, she was installing plastichromatic paint for the residents of Colorado Springs. Billy had heard about Colorado Springs; a town on the roof of the world nestling comfortably against a mountain. According to some wistful customers, the dust storms never reached there, and the skies were always blue.

“I know that look.”

Billy shook himself, and saw the gray, brutalist architecture of Peoria’s archologies slouching past, their concrete hides shrugging off the sun’s wrath.

“What are you talking about?”

“You get that look whenever you go wandering off to who-knows-where. You used to be more focused.”

“I’m retired, Sadie. Why do I need to be focused? I’ve finished the race. If I want to put my feet up – “

“Okay, okay! Put your feet up! Just not on my dash. According to your notifications, your new girl is already waiting for you in the garage. Are you ready?”

“I’ve been ready for ages.”

Sadie pulled up to the armored gate of Billy’s archology building, a clone of all the others. An electronic squirt told the gate that they were friends and wanted to come in. Like a lazy turnkey, the gate slowly rolled up to admit them to the dark, greenish-gray interior of the garage.

As Sadie slowly rolled past rows of cars and exchanged pleasantries, Billy craned his neck, looking for the the new ride which would carry him in style to the rest of the continent. Rounding two more rows of vehicles he saw her, dressed all in shiny black. The Electra XF Type-R seemed to pour out of the shadows into the parking space. Her glass roof extended all the way to the rear, like a low-cut evening dress. She looked so svelte it was hard to believe that she had Class-6 military-grade armor beneath her skin, and the trim completely hid the lurking electrodes which waited to dispense 100,000 volts to any ambitious highwayman.

“She says hello,” said Sadie. “I’ve already transferred your data; preferred climate and of course, your bucket list.”

“Thanks, Sadie,” said Billy, and he flashed his pearly whites at the rear-view mirror. “How do I look?”

“Like… like a million bucks, Billy. Go out and see the world, low-rent loser.”

Billy was too entranced with the Electra to return the gibe. Sadie’s door creaked as she opened it to let him out. The Electra swallowed the light. Every line curved into every other line on her body with seemingly no end. Then a seam which Billy hadn’t seen before appeared, and the driver’s-side door whispered open, revealing acres of lab-grown leather.

“Hello, William.”

The voice which emerged from the Electra sinuously caressed his ears. There was no question, this car was top-of-the-line.

“C-call me Billy,” he managed to stammer.

“I like that,” the Electra cooed. “Would you like to come inside?”

Billy needed no further encouragement. He slid into the driver’s seat and the door whispered shut.

“I’m your new Electra XF Type-R,” the car purred. “Exactly what you ordered. Is everything to your liking?”

“Uh… yeah! Of course!”

“Then you wouldn’t mind saying a few words to the delivery boys saying that you’re – satisfied?”

“Yes, of course! I acknowledge receipt of the vehicle and confirm that everything is to my satisfaction.”

The dash chimed, and Billy’s statement was squirted off to the Ann Arbor ConGlom to be filed away.

“Now that that’s over with, Sadie tells me that there are a few places you wanted to see right away. Could I take you to the Badlands Rainforest for a start? I assure you that the greenery is to die for.”

“Let’s go right now!”

As the Electra glided into motion, Billy caught a glimpse of Sadie’s faded white paint disappearing into the garage’s gloom in the rearview mirror.

Outside, the Electra’s windows filtered the sun’s rays to something soothing to Billy’s eyes. The culturator blew air that smelled like winds wafting off a tropical beach. The seat shifted beneath him to accommodate his shape, presenting no hard surface, in contrast to Sadie’s lumpy interior.

“We should be in Badlands National Rainforest in three hours,” said the Electra.

“Wow! That’s awfully fast! Is it safe?”

They had already left the archologies behind, and the ‘burbs were whipping by in a caustic blur. The ride was as smooth as silk.

“My electromagnahelic suspension can handle it, Billy. Now, what would you like to do until then? Your previous ride sent me your entire music library, including your favorite playlists.”

“She did?”

Billy thought back to how he and Sadie had built those playlists, pouring over albums and singles. Sadie had her own preferences of course, which led to many arguments. But the two had been able to hammer out dozens of playlists over the years to accommodate any mood a traveling salesman or sentient car could ever experience.

That was thoughtful of her, Billy mused.

“What would you like to hear?” he said.

“Whatever you like,” said the car. “My stereo is at your disposal.”

“I mean, do you have a preference?”

“My preference is to give you the most divine riding experience possible. My entire operating system was built for that purpose. Shall I play your cool jazz list?”

“No, I always start a trip with synth-metal. Gets the juices flowing.”

Sadie knew that. She knows my whole routine.

The Electra dutifully selected the appropriate play list, and complex guitar riffs danced out of the speakers. Billy had to admit the stereo was top-notch, though a little heavy on the bass.

“Leesa loved this song,” he said.

“I recognize that name from your contacts. Is she special to you?”

“We played it when we stopped at the Grand Canyon radiation shelter. She said it reminded her of growing up with her brothers. Sadie remembered Leesa’s history and picked that song to calm her after the radiation spike.”

What else did Sadie do for me? The list is too long.

“Let’s just talk,” said Billy.

“Of course. What would you like to talk about?”

“Well, what about where you came from?”

“I came from Plant 4 of Ann Arbor ConGlom’s Delta complex. I was activated on –”

“Never mind. Let’s talk about something else. How about I talk about my trip to the Connecticut Trans-Wastes Hold…”

Billy spoke at length about his sales trips. The Electra was an attentive listener, even laughing at some of his anecdotes. She was the perfect conversationalist, and her husky, honey-sweet voice never faltered. A half hour into the journey, Billy looked outside at the desolate landscape and sighed.

“Is there something wrong, Billy?” said the car.

“Nothing. Everything’s perfect. Take me back to Peoria. I forgot something.”

*

Sadie’s door lifted to admit Billy to her worn interior, and she chortled at him.

“Couldn’t handle the new girl, loser?”

“Let’s go, rusty bucket of bolts.”

The door closed, and Sadie lurched toward the exit.

“Where to?”

“How about Colorado Springs?”


Word count: 1985