ADA gets out and walks around to Car’s rear compartment. She peers inside for a moment and says, “There is a toolbox and an empty coffee cup but no tire. The contents of your rear compartment are useless.”

“Can I have the coffee cup?” Trashbot asks.

ADA feeds it to him.

If we have to walk all the way to Hogan’s Island, we are sure to have bad experiences and learning opportunities. I am a little bit pleased by the prospect of learning, but I am impatient to get to the Tower in hopes of reuniting with Gina.

We have no choice. We will have to go into the city and fix Car’s tire.

I learn the following things from pushing Car:

1. ADA is strong and good at pushing things.
2. I am less strong and not good at pushing things.
3. Trashbot’s arms are very bad at pushing things.
4. Proto likes to chase bugs.

Road gravel crunches beneath our feet, and we say nothing until we arrive at a combination gas station, auto mechanic’s garage, and convenience store. Dozens of cars are stopped here like animals gathering at a waterhole on the dry savannah. Tired-looking adults pump gas or try to herd arguing children into the convenience store.

ADA and I push Car up to the garage and go inside. Proto scampers before us, zooming between metal tool chests and cars lifted up on hoists. His foot pods splash in the inch of water covering the cement floor, and while it seems strange to me that there’s so much water, this is my first time in a mechanic’s shop. Perhaps this is standard. A burned and blackened rag floats by my feet. Perhaps this, too, is standard. But ADA says, “I believe a terrible battle was waged here. Though I see no bodies, many combatants must have fallen. We should be on our guard or else whatever befell the warriors will doom us.”

“I’m the one who’s doomed,” wails a voice. A young woman emerges from a side office, her gray coveralls soaked from the knees down. Shiny patches of oil smudge her brown cheeks. She appears to have recently had a bad experience.

“Did you exercise bad judgment?” I ask her.