In his urgency, Yeung-Sung didn’t notice that he was jogging on the road itself. He also didn’t notice the autocar coming up to him until it almost stopped inches away -then kept going, smacking him with front bumper. He heard a loud slamming before he was grabbed off, his jeans making a jagged skrrr as he slid down. He did recognize who it was that had done it.

“Get in,” Simon said. “I assume this time I won’t have to talk you into it.”

Still wobbly from the crash, Yeung-Sung simply shook his head. And they were off. Another short ride with my favourite GLI employee.

They rode together in the back -Simon hadn’t mention where to- and Yeung-Sung caught him up on the situation, pleading with him to give any information that might help him find Wil.

“Maybe he found something,” Yeung-Sung finished, swinging his head through every inch of headroom the compact vehicle allowed.

Simon had been listening intently, rubbing his head and nodding when appropriate. “It is possible.”

Quiet filled the room. C’mon Simon, must I always force you?

“So? Are you going to help find him?” he inquired.

It looked like he had been snapped back from a distance. “Oh? Yes, your friend Wil. I’m afraid I don’t know much more than you do. This kind of thing has, thankfully, not been commonplace in the colony. I don’t have any suspects, evidence, or anything like that…I thought you coloners have organized your own judicial force? I figured you’d have an investigation budget then, why not ask them?”

Seriously?

“Thanks, Simon, you’re very helpful. As always,” said Yeung-Sung, becoming bewildered after Simon nodded in response.

The Brit smiled. “Well I do what I can.”

Yeung-Sung then spotted some unusual next to him. “Wait, what the hell are you even doing here then? New updates for the AI need manual installation?”

Not moving a muscle from his smile, Simon answered, “I’m running away.”

“You are?”

Simon nodded.

Yeung-Sung had to take his eyes off him. He looked about the car. It slid along with its barely audible hum, just like before. A GPS map blinked on its monitor, yet leaning in he noticed that there was no location set. At either side, the black fabric lining the interior of the car was dotted with tiny speakers.

What did he tell the car to do? What’s his plan? How does he think there’s even a hope of this idea working?

He pulled his head from between the car-seats. Simon was waiting patiently for him to react, staring at the housing fading out of sight, the indistinguishable heads that they passed.

Yeung-Sung asked, “Do you want me to stop you?”

“Stop me?” Simon curled his attention inward, crept away from Yeung-Sung, settling into the far corner of the back seat. “I think that’s rather impossible. I can’t stay, I…won’t be a part of this any longer.”

“Simon? Come on now.”

“I won’t. You’re not going to magically forgive everything I’ve helped happen.”

Raising an eyebrow, Yeung-Sung held out a comforting hand. Then took it back, crossing them over, and smirked. “You realize the irony of this situation, don’t you?”

Simon bit his lip. “Of course I do,” he muttered, stuffing himself into his pockets. This coat was grey, with stubborn material that refused to stretch over Simon’s wide features.

Ahh, Simon. Why do you have this ability to drag me into the most annoying situations?

“Maybe I don’t care, Simon, ever thought of that?”

His expression softened.

Yeung-Sung continued, “It’s not like we’ve got a great relationship, anyway.”

Rustling, Simon took out what was probably the same pack of cigarettes from before. He slipped of the plastic sleeve, stuffing one between his lips and mouthed a hollow reply.

“Good.”

Yeung-Sung rolled his tongue around inside his cheek, blowing it out. “Yet, you shove me in the car without a word.”

Padding through the rest of his pockets for a lighter, Simon froze.

Exactly. You can’t bullshit me.

“So?” he asked, the cigarette falling from his mouth.

“Shit.”