Cass was not in the mood to obey orders from an anonymous number on his phone, but Circuit’s End was a bar he frequented, so he figured he would give it a go. It was a small dive bar near their track and garage. When he walked in, Zara, who ran the place, was already fixing his drink as he approached the bar.

  “I’m hearing some fun things about you,” she said as her mechanical arm worked on its own to pour the liquor while she spoke to Cass.

  Cass shook his head. “No talk today.”

  “Fine,” said Zara, handing him the drink. “I’ll add it to your tab.” Cass knew this triggered some sort of accounting program that added the drink to a ledger linked to her neural interface. “But if you don’t want to talk to me, there is someone who does.” She pointed to a booth across the bar. Cass looked over and saw a woman sitting there in a professional dress accented with blue neon trim.

  As soon as he saw her, their eyes locked briefly because she had already been watching him. He turned back around. “Not her,” he said. He knew her and what the meaning of the ‘N’ in the message.

  “I don’t think you have a choice,” Zara said with a smile, then walked away to serve her other customers.

  It was: Nia Solara. Of all the people he could have run into tonight, she was on the short list of those who would not improve his mood.

  “Hey, Cass. Join me,” came a woman’s voice. It sounded almost as if it was coming from inside his head, but he knew it was Nia. Her voice was her greatest asset, and she must have had an implanted projection system. She could probably send her voice clear across the bar without anyone except the intended recipient hearing it. Cass turned to look, and Nia waved back. He knew it would not stop, so he decided to get this over with.

  “What do you want?” Cass asked as he sat down across from her.

  Nia smiled. “You’re less friendly than last time.”

  “Last time I was a driver, and you were a broadcaster interviewing me,” said Cass. “My contract said I had to be professional. My question still stands. What do you want?”

  “You are direct,” said Nia. “I suppose most drivers are. Especially those who are now trying to run their own team and failing before they even reach the first race.”

  Cass blinked. “What are you talking about?” he said, trying to sound confident.

  “I know you’re out of money and your car doesn’t work,” said Nia. “Don’t act surprised. I may not be a broadcaster anymore, but I still have contacts.”

  Cass took a sip of his drink and, for the first time, really studied Nia. She had been a broadcaster, one of the ones who covered Ultracar. She had even had her own feed that viewers could tap into until she was caught smuggling race telemetry data to gambling rings. “You don’t have a good reputation anymore. Mine’s not great, but people still show some respect. At least I’m not a criminal.”

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  “Neither am I,” said Nia. “The charges never stuck.” She smiled and took a sip of her own drink.

  “What do you want?” said Cass. He was not in the mood tonight to chat with someone like Nia. He had alcohol to drink.

  “I want to help you,” said Nia.

  The way she said it, the tone of voice, only someone with serious augmentation could pull that off. Someone like Nia, whose voice had been her career, would definitely have had that kind of work done, and Cass had to remind himself of that fact before he believed her. “Why?”

  “I want back in,” said Nia. “I want to get back into the game. They won’t let me broadcast anymore, so I want to join a team.”

  “No,” said Cass. “What would you even do?”

  “I can talk,” said Nia. “Which is what you need right now. Someone who can talk to the big-money people so they take you seriously.”

  “And you think they would take you seriously?” Cass stressed the “you.”

  “If I’m not mistaken, you are taking me seriously,” said Nia, also emphasizing the “you,” and Cass realized he was taking her more seriously. It must have been that hypnotic voice of hers.

  Cass took another sip of his drink to steady himself. “So what? Do you think you’ll just be able to walk into any giant corporation and get them to hand over a pile of money? I’ve already talked to Arch-Tech. They’re not interested.”

  “I know you talked to them,” said Nia. “And from talking to you now, I can see why they turned you down.” She was good at this, but he did not want her to know that.

  Cass frowned. “I turned them down.”

  “Of course,” said Nia. “Arch-Tech has sponsored teams in the past. It’s been a few years; their last deal fell through when the team lost its championship spot. They don’t want a repeat of the embarrassment, but they are not done with Ultracar. Also, you have something most teams can’t offer.”

  “Failure is easy to come by,” said Cass.

  Nia smiled, but in a reassuring way. “You have a story,” she said. “You’re a phoenix rising from the ashes of your crash. You’ve fought through the lower levels and made it to the big time. You’re scappy. Small. Relatable. A big corporation like Arch-Tech is nothing like you. They could use an underdog story like yours.”

  “The team may have a good story, but you’ve already suggested I’m not the likable type,” said Cass.

  “Let me handle that,” said Nia. “That’s my specialty. Telling stories. I’ll have fans eating out of your hand and Arch-Tech handing you all the money you need.”

  Cass felt she nearly had him eating out of her hand. This was not where he wanted to be. “I have to go,” he said, standing up and walking away.

  “You know you’ll never get a car on the grid like this,” said Nia. Her voice projection was doing its thing again. “Everything you’ve worked for will all fall apart. You might not even get back into the lower leagues. No one, not even your current sponsors, wants a team that gave up an Ultracar spot.”

  Cass stopped walking and ground his teeth. His faulty implant gave him a headache again. He turned and walked back to Nia to tell her to shut up.

  “How about a test?” said Nia in a tone perfectly calculated to disarm Cass. “If I can get you a sponsorship, you bring me on the team.”

  Cass took another sip of his drink to steady himself. “You really think you can get the money?”

  “I have some inside information on Arch-Tech,” she said. “I should be able to get you a good deal. Something that allows you some freedom.”

  “You really think you can do that?” said Cass. He knew she was good, but this seemed impossible.

  Nia stood up, slinging her purse over her shoulder. “I’ll have it by tomorrow. How’s that?”

  “You need me to set up a meeting for you or something?” said Cass. Not that it mattered at this point; he had written Arch-Tech off. If she wanted to ruin the relationship with them even further, that was fine by him.

  “No,” said Nia over her shoulder as she paused on her way out. “I’ll handle it myself.”