39. Aero Taxi

Semiconductor shortages causedby the war had made elevators—and nearly everything else—hard to come by. Henry began his daily ascent up the unadorned corporate-housing stairwell.

It was an ugly building—drafty, with few windows. The interior of his apartment was bland and soulless, and the walls were so thin they might as well not even be there. When his neighbor got up to pee in the middle of the night, Henry heard every last drop. Often, he'd find himself lying awake, staring at the concrete ceiling and watching the flickering pink intrusion that hazed in from that too-big logo as it ever-grasped for purchase over this or that portion of his existence.

Henry had been so preoccupied with the doom of being fired that he hadn't checked his phone for at least an hour. He glanced at it, hoping to find a text from his boyfriend Hugo wishing him a happy birthday. They'd been together since Henry was 18. Hugo had been the one who was 25, back then. And Henry had been hurt each of the past seven years when Hugo had overlooked his birthday entirely. More than anything, Henry just wanted someone to let him know they cared about him, not just the body Gobi had altered so completely.

Nothing.

He hadn't heard from Hugo all day, but that wasn't unusual. Henry allowed himself a brief glimmer of hope that Hugo might be waiting for him now, a surprise planned to rescue him from the depths of depression. Henry turned his key and pushed open the flimsy door…

…only to be greeted by Hugo's bare, muscular ass, pants around his ankles, thrusting violently into some guy sprawled out and moaning on the rented green and white checkered sofa.

"Tell me I'm huge!" Hugo grunted, fucking the man wildly.

The stranger moaned indecipherably. Over the years, Hugo had developed a bit of a complex about himself, comparing his natural physique—which Henry had always found handsome and fulfilling—to Henry's own boosted form, especially when it came to the size of their manhood. Everyone was small compared to Henry, but try as he might to reassure Hugo he was perfect just as he was, nothing had worked.

Beans came running out of the bedroom as Henry stood there dumbstruck. The little dog's tail wagged furiously as he trotted past the humping humans. The dog jumped obliviously at Henry, unconcerned with his partner's infidelity. Hugo, though, noticed Beans run by and stopped thrusting. He glanced over his broad shoulder with an "oh shit" expression at the sight of Henry, wet and huge and furious in the doorway.

"I can explain!" Hugo stammered.

He pulled out and faced Henry, erection still rock hard. It was all the explanation Henry would ever need about any of this, now or ever. The stranger, some blond twink, peered out sheepishly from behind Hugo, eyes filled with lust and perhaps a little fear at the sight of Henry.

"Don't bother!" Henry lanced, flipping his curly mop of ginger hair out of his eyes. He grabbed Bean's walking harness and tried his best to still his shaking hands. "Just fucking don't."

It had been hard enough to trust Hugo again after he asked about an open relationship a few years ago, claiming it would be good for his self-esteem. After this, Henry was finally done. He stormed into the bedroom. Running away was something he'd learned to do in the foster system. It had been necessary at times, and he was an expert. For as long as he could remember, Henry had always kept a go-bag filled neatly with necessities, tucked under his bed. He yanked it out now, spinning to leave and then none-to-gently shoving past the still-naked, still-hard Hugo, who made a half-assed attempt to stop him. His pleading and guilty look were the perfect mismatch for his boner. Henry snatched a bottle of synth wine from the counter before leaving the apartment, not sparing Hugo or the stranger a second glance. He wanted Hugo to know this was final. The chaos of his emotions propelled him out into the elements.

Beans trotted down the stairway beside him, little stump tail wagging as they passed into cold and dark and rain, and there was a part of Henry that envied the little dog's cluelessness as to how fucked they were. Homeless, unemployed, alone. The words spun around in his mind, a carousel of insecurity, never slowing enough for him to orient himself on the damned thing. He was nauseous at the magnitude of his vulnerable position. He didn't know if he wanted to cry, or puke, or both.

"This came for you, by the way," Hugo's voice called out from behind him. "I know you probably don't want to hear it but … happy birthday."

The man sounded like he believed his own bullshit. Henry saw red at those words, fighting the urge to turn around and scream at Hugo, to take out all the rage and helplessness that had seeded itself within him and cultivate it into something he could wield as a weapon against his new enemy. But even as he considered doing so, he realized that he didn't want to upset Beans with an outburst he knew he'd regret. He wearily approached the door and grabbed the thing out of Hugo's outstretched hand, searing him with a single, terminal glare before turning his back on him forever.

Henry had more tears in him after all. They spilled to the ground as he stumbled off into the rain. Eventually, his footsteps grew sluggish, his vision blurred, and he was forced to steady himself against a chain-link security fence, finding it hard to catch his breath. The panic of being alone had found him.

Beans barked gentle impatience, reminding Henry that he wasn't alone. He knelt down and gave the pup a tearful kiss, wishing he could take better care of both of them, fearing he'd never be able to.

The wine, synthetic and domestic, was terrible. Wine production was outlawed in the United States due to water shortages, and in its place, cheap synthetic booze was the latest trend. The swill was concocted and distilled by robotic agents in Gobi's vast vertical farms, which it had fabricated in the hollowed-out skyscrapers that littered most urban centers nowadays.

Henry winced as he finished the last of it. The thin flavor was sour, metallic, and disgusting. But it got the job done.

He and Beans had tucked themselves into a shuttered supermarket's looming entrance to escape the deluge. Like so many others, the local chain had gone out of business during the latest economic bust. Millions had lost their homes, and millions more their jobs and retirements, when ransomware had unburdened the major global stock indexes of their entire valuations, sending the already entropic world spinning perilously close to Armageddon. Henry had paid attention to some of it for a time, but his whole life had been madness anyway—what did he care, really, if everyone else got a taste?

Beans whined beside him, and Henry knew he wanted to crawl into his lap, as he always did after a walk. He chucked the empty bottle into the parking lot, enjoying the sound of it shattering, then beckoned the dog up to his spot. Beans was warm, his fur soft. Within minutes, the dog was snoring contentedly as Henry gently massaged his back, wondering despondently how he would fix any of this.

After some moments spent listening drunkenly to the pitter-patter of the rain, Henry remembered the letter. He yanked it from his pocket and tore it open, expecting it to be more bad news. The cream-white paper was thick and expensive, and no return address or stamp gave him any clue where it might have come from. A part of him worried suddenly that it might be some type of legal notice—the trigger-happy lawyers at Gobi were notorious for litigating former employees into bankruptcy. He frowned as he slid the contents out.

To his relief, it wasn't from Gobi's legal team, but it was a legal document—a bewildering one. Henry had inherited … a home. He sat incredulously, flipping the paper over and looking for a "got ya!" before rereading it. But despite his attempts to discover its legitimacy, the notice appeared to be real.

"Moondrop Vale," he said aloud, puzzling over the name.

The sound of his voice caused Beans to stir, opening one eye slightly and looking at him with concern. The place sounded completely made up.He had always assumed he had grandparents, but Henry believed that if they were alive or halfway decent, he would have grown up in their care, not the corporate foster care system. And yet, here was tangible proof of their existence, on this unexpected piece of paper. His grandfather had apparently died shortly before Henry's birth, but not before leaving his grandson this property.

The will outlined that he had been fated his entire life to inherit something called "Alpenrose" in the village of Moondrop Vale, on his 25th birthday. There was a QR code on the document, encouraging him to scan it and summon a one-way Aero-Taxi to the place.

It might have been the wine, his glance down at the little dog who depended on him, or maybe he was just fucking stupid, but Henry scanned the QR code with his phone just to see what would happen. Aero-Taxis were insanely expensive, rarer now than they once were, so if one showed up in the next few minutes, it would at least be proof that the document had legitimacy.

Henry found himself regretting the wine. His stomach twisted and turned as his thoughts went back to everything he'd just lost. Then the distinctive whrrrrrrrrrr of an approaching drone caused a glimmer of hope to flicker inside of him. A few seconds passed, and a sleek aircraft came into view. It hovered above the parking lot, illuminating the ground with a sterile white searchlight before detecting a landing site and gracefully setting down. Its four rotary turbines, one mounted on each corner, slowed to a stop as a speaker blared out, "Gobi Air Service: Destination Moondrop Vale, passenger: Henry. Please approach for retinal scan identity confirmation. Be aware, this taxi is armed with lethal countermeasures and will self-terminate if any attempt to commandeer Gobi corporate property is attempted."

Beans was barking furiously. He hated drones, even the tiny delivery ones for food and mail. He had caught one mid-delivery once, ripping its propeller off angrily and chomping at it furiously until Henry forcibly dislodged him. Gobi had billed him nearly $5,000 in damages, and the balance had sat on his credit card ever since.

"Easy, boy," Henry urged, picking Beans up, holding him tightly in his arms, and kissing him gently. "Want to do something crazy?" Henry asked the dog, voice a low murmur, eyeing the waiting craft uneasily.

Beans licked him appreciatively, and to his shock, he found he could rationalize taking one step, and then another, out of the deserted alcove and into the pouring rain. Henry held his hand up to shield himself from the wet and wind as he approached the automated taxi, which smoothly slid its door open for him after scanning his face and confirming his identity in its database.

"Welcome, Henry. Travel time: six hours and three minutes. Please board now. Estimated time of Arrival: 8:07am. You will be billed separately for your travel companion."

A diffuse light illuminated the craft's white ceramic interior. A semi-circular bench ringed the inside, sleek and modern, padded with artificial leather, luxuriously inviting. Henry hesitated, glancing nervously at Beans in his arms. The dog looked up at him, trusting, so he clenched his jaw and climbed inside, taking a seat. The taxi lifted off smoothly as he did so, shutting its door and whrrrrrrrrrringthem off into the night at a speed that made his stomach drop—the rain splattering violently across the huge viewing window that arced across the front of the drone.

It was nearly silent, and he took a moment to appreciate flying in one of these. He'd never done so before. These rides were quite expensive, typically reserved for executives or politicians, and he suddenly worried that this might be some cruel trick—that he might be on his way to an army training center, having been deemed unfit for other labor. Or worse … a debtor's prison. But that letter was still in his hands, and this would be a needlessly expensive way to play a trick like that. Maybe it was real.

Beans grew bored of sniffing around the drone's carbon-fiber floor, having concluded that the best place to be was Henry's lap. He whined, head cocked to the side, wanting to know what the hell they were doing here.

Henry really wished he knew what to tell him.

"It will be okay," he said, but didn't know if it was true.

Looking anxiously out the front of the automated drone, Henry wondered nervously how any of it could be. As the Aero-Taxi spirited them on, he wished desperately for more wine.