Runaways

shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and black pants and a black apron, came along and paused by the table. 'Gruezi,' he said, nodding to them.

'Hi, there,' Bodo said. 'Got a Rivella?'

'Red or blue?'

'Blue.'

The waiter turned to Megan. 'Mademoiselle?'

'Uh, a Coke.'

'Right away.' He headed off again.

Megan looked at Bodo, raised her eyebrows. ' 'Blue'?'

'You'll see.' Bodo gazed away across the plaza.

'Bodo, look,' Megan said. 'You hardly know me. It's nice of you to take the time to see me, and so late in the day.'

'I don't mind,' Bodo said. 'It's not a problem; I'm not doing anything today.'

'I'm gladBut, Bodo, I'm really worried about Burt… and his girlfriend, Wilma, is going to be frantic if she doesn't hear from him pretty soon.'

'I don't know if that's likely to happen,' Bodo said, sounding a little morose. 'I don't know him all that well, but he was pretty eager to get out of here.'

'That's what I want to talk to you about.' They paused as the waiter came back with a tray, a couple of glasses, and a couple of bottles. He put down the glasses and poured their drinks. Megan's Coke looked as she had expected, but Bodo's drink wasn't blue at all. It was a pale golden color like a good ginger ale. They lifted their glasses.

'By the way, just so you know. This isn't real food,' said the waiter.

Megan smiled half a smile in amusement at the statutory warning.

'Don't you get tired of saying that all day?' Bodo said.

The waiter looked at him, quizzically. 'How could I? I'm a computer. Enjoy your drink.' He went away, drying his hands on his apron.

Megan drank some of her Coke, and then put the glass down. 'Listen, do you mind if I ask you a question?'

'Ask me, and I'll tell you if I mind.'

'What brought you here?' Megan said.

Bodo gave her an odd look. Then he leaned on his elbows and watched the world go by for a moment before answering. 'It was a custody thing,' Bodo said. 'My mom and dad were divorcing. It was messy, there's a lot of money involvedDad is rich from inventing and licensing a virtual-environment-managing concept. Mom has a lot of money of her own, old family money. They've spent the last couple of years fighting over which of them made the other more successful while they were married.'

He took a long drink of his Rivella. 'And one of the biggest prizes in the divorce was going to be me.' Bodo's smile was sad. 'Not that either of them particularly wanted me, you understand. My dad hates the way I look… my mom hates the way I think. But it didn't matter, because I was a prize, you see? When I was a kid, and they were still living together but not really being together, my mom and dad would fight to see who could give me the biggest present, or to get me to go on holidays with one or the other of them. Whoever got me to go with them, won. Now that they were finally divorcing, the game just changed a little, and both of them wanted to 'have' me because winning custody of me would really piss off the other one. They were just about to start their second year of fighting over me in family court when I decided I was tired of it all. I took a few things in the middle of the night, sneaked past the security systems around the house, and left for a Breathing Space facility in another country. And I've been in one or another of them ever since.' He looked up, his eyes glinting with humor, but the humor had an edge to it. 'This way neither of my parents gets me. Neither of them gets to spite the other one. I win.. they lose. For once in my life.'

'Oh, God, Bodo… I'm sorry.'

'Don't be!' Bodo said. 'I'm doing okay. I've put aside a little money. Enough that I can take 'holidays' from here and go other places. I stay in youth hostels and so on… I look like some kid going on the Backpack Grand Tour. You know: 'See the world cheap before you get down to business.' ' He chuckled. 'No one looks twice at a kid in their 'transitional year,' if you go to the traditional places and do the traditional things. In six months I'll no longer be a minor in the-in my home jurisdiction. Then I can even go back home, if I want to, because my folks won't be able to fight over me anymore. All the rest of their 'stuff,' yeah, let them pull each other's heads off about that all they want. Their lawyers love it. And if my parents don't want me around anymore, because I've lost any value as a bargaining chip, that's okay, too. Being rich is really overrated, especially if you don't know how to use it so it does somebody some good… and you can meet some really nice people when you're 'poor' and on the road.'

He had another drink of his Rivella, while Megan sat there and thanked whatever powers moved above her life that she had somehow escaped this kind of adolescence.

'Bodo,' she said at last, 'listen. This work that Burt's doing… what is it? I have to know.'

'Why are you asking me about it?'

'Because you know. Because you've done it. Haven't you?'

His eyes rested on her for a long moment before he answered. 'Burt's girlfriend,' Bodo said, 'if that's what she is-he's really worried about impressing her, you know?'

'I think 'Burt's girlfriend' is exactly what she is,' Megan said, 'though I'm not sure Burt's clear about it as yet. If he wants to impress her, it's not because she's particularly demanding or anything. But worried… that she definitely is.'

'He's short of money, too,' Bodo says. 'The two conditions don't go together well… needing to look successful to someone, and being broke and on the street. He decided he was going to do something about it.'

'Meaning he was going to do what you did.'

Bodo looked at Megan.

'Tell me about it,' she said.

He studied his drink for a few moments. 'If you wait around one of the 'street corners' in Breathing Space long enough,' Bodo said softly, 'you meet people who want small jobs done for them. They visit on and off for several days, usually, interviewing. Mostly they want packages carried places. Generally you don't inquire about what's in the packages. You get a strong feeling it might be better not to. The payment's good-real good, for such short- term work. These people slide in, ask around to see who's available, size them up… and make a deal. You leave the facility, make a pickup.. make a drop somewhere else. That day a credit account that you've specified suddenly acquires a positive balance with some serious zeroes before the decimal point… the kind of figure you might take a year to see if you were working behind the counter in a convenience store.' Bodo turned his glass around on the table.

Megan sat there looking at her Coke. 'And you told him about this-'

'He asked me about it!' Bodo said. 'Don't blame me for this, Megan. If he hadn't found out from me, he absolutely would have found it out from somebody else here pretty fast! It's hardly a secret. And I know what Burt's going through. It can be really hard not to have any money. They make you as comfortable as they can, here, they try to get you set up in work/study programs and that kind of thing if you're sure you can't go home… but those take a long time to pay off. When something presents itself that can make you good money, fast, for just a little work, you're likely to jump at it.'

Megan swallowed. 'Sorry,' she said. 'I didn't mean to sound like I was blaming you.'

'Yeah, well,' Bodo said. For a few moments they were both quiet, looking in different directions in the bright spring sunshine.

'How often do these 'recruiters' come through?' Megan said.

'Every few months/' said Bodo. 'The word in the Space goes around in a hurry. There's someone here, 'scouting…' And if you're interested, you go meet with them on one of the 'street corners.' Some kids get good at this line of work. They do it all the time. Some of them we don't see again… '

A chill went down the back of Megan's neck, nothing to do with the wind off the river. 'They never come back, you mean.'

'Why should they? If the work's good, if they like it and do enough of it to buy themselves an apartment somewhere, or even a house somewhere cheap, what would be the point?'