Mitzi ran until she reached one of the main roads and was able to signal for a taxi. The sleek grey self-driving car pulled up to the curb, and Mitzi jumped into the passenger seat.

The taxis were small, with just enough room for two passengers and a case of luggage, though they had a minibar between the seats and a clear screen installed into the front windowpane, where a map flickered into view.

“Where would you like to go today?” a bright AI voice asked.

“Port Four, Central,” Mitzi replied, pulling her card out of her back pocket and swiping it over the screen to authorise payment. She put on her belt and leaned back into the padded leather seat as the car re-joined the flow of traffic. “Fast as possible, please.”

“I will maintain a safe and legal speed,” the AI said, and Mitzi groaned.

Traffic was heavy, and Mitzi started tapping her fingers on the dash as she watched the suburbs pass at a crawl. “You seem anxious,” the AI said after a moment, injecting a note of fake concern into its voice. “Would you like me to pick some music to match your mood?”

“No, absolutely not,” Mitzi said. “Just divert all of your energy into driving as fast as possible, okay?”

“My technology does not work in that way,” the AI said, sounding so happy that Mitzi was tempted to punch the car. “However, I would be delighted to engage you in a discussion. I have many preset topics of conversation, and my news database has only a two-minute lag from real time.”

Mitzi pursed her lips. “Okay, sure. What can you tell me about the Cymic Parasites?”

“Allow me to read the latest media statement,” the car said, seeming overjoyed at the prospect. “For immediate release: Central wishes to advise—”

“Okay, yeah, I’ve already heard that one. ‘The threat is serious but not insurmountable. Stay in your homes after dark. Follow all commands a public official gives you. Don’t panic.’ Et cetera. It’s about as useful as a dead mule.”

“Dead mules can be used for many purposes,” the AI said. “For food, provided it has died within a safe timeframe and was not carrying any harmful bacteria or viruses. Its bones can be fashioned into tools—”

“Shut up,” Mitzi grunted, sinking lower in her seat. The car was speeding up as it made its way out of the city centre. Mitzi’s stomach had developed a gnawing, empty feeling that told her she’d forgotten to eat both breakfast and lunch, and she grudgingly swiped her card over the minibar’s scanner. The lid popped up, offering a range of drinks and foods. They were all horrifically overpriced, but her money wouldn’t be much use to her once she was off the planet, so she took one of the apple juices and a sandwich.

“My scanners show that you’re low on magnesium,” the AI said, so painfully enthusiastic that it made Mitzi’s teeth hurt, “which can be a valuable supplement to help you cope in times of stress. May I recommend a nutrient-rich vitamin slice?”