“Well you don’t have to decide now,” Jim shrugged his shoulders and gave an amiable smile. The floor rumbled underneath them, and there was a loud, clattering whine as the whole structure of Rolling Fuck came to a slow stop. Jim waited for the scrunching noise to cease and said, “Come and watch what we do today. Then make your call.”

Roland.

Dawn broke just as Rolling Fuck pulled to a long, slow stop by the shore of Lake Waco. The city had taken the long way around the reservoir, which had added at least an hour to their journey but also put a sizable water barrier between Rolling Fuck and the advancing forces of the Heavenly Kingdom. It had been a tight fit at several points, and Roland had enjoyed watching the wheeled city crunch over several abandoned homes and many a street lamp. But eventually the pilots and navigators had found a suitably large public park and brought Rolling Fuck to rest there.

“It’s a nice sunrise,” Manny said. The kid stood next to Roland, on a wooden deck built onto the side of the Main Roller. Skullfucker Mike had assured them this spot provided the best vantage point to watch the rising sun. It looked like he’d been right in that. The sky around them was a heady blend of red and orange that brought up fragmented memories of Mai Tais and fireballs in Roland’s head. Clouds clustered at the tip of the horizon, ripe to bursting with the color and light of the new day’s sun.

Roland nodded. “Yeah.”

“It’s a shame no one who lives here gets to see it,” Manny said. “I’ve never seen the city this empty.”

Roland looked over at his young friend. The boy had seen a lot for his age, and Roland could see how much it pained him. Sorrow had a scent all its own. The plunging levels of norepinephrine and serotonin brought out the sharp stink of cortisol and the greasy odor of opioids. Lurking just behind those smells was the odd spicy tinge of the IL-18 protein. Roland could almost hear it weaken the valves of Manny’s heart.

“I imagine this sucks extramuch for you. I mean, you’ve been where they are, right?”

“Twice,” Manny said.

Roland nodded. “I can’t exactly recall,” he admitted, “but I expect I had something to do with the first time.”

Manny looked over to Roland. Chemically, it was clear the kid was battling a melange of sadness, trauma, and anxiety. His actual thoughts, though, were just as hidden from Roland as they would be from any stock human. Perhaps more so. There were moments when Roland feared he was losing the ability to read human emotions, or even display them properly on his face.

“What’s that look you’re giving me?” he asked, finally.

“What do you mean?”