Chapter 58: Rebecca's Nose Knows
Pulling up to the megabuilding, Rhys saw a brand-new retro-style car parked at the curb. It had the classic lines of an old-world sedan, but with the sleek, aerodynamic body and iridescent, chrome-plated paint job of a modern vehicle. It was a serious head-turner.
Maine walked over to it, casually leaning against the hood as he looked back at Rhys.
Rhys chuckled. "The eddies haven't even cleared yet. You move fast."
"Dealer heard we pulled a big gig for Rogue and fronted it to me. I'll wire him the eddies later. He's an old choom," Maine said with a grin. "What do you think, Rhys? Preem, right? It's a Rayfield 'Aeron-dight,' third-gen. What was their slogan? Oh yeah: Rayfield. The Choice of Distinction!"
Maine was obviously in love with his new ride. Dorio, standing beside him, just covered her face and shook her head, exasperated. It's a thirty-year-old antique... and it cost a goddamn fortune! If it were up to her, she'd have gone with a Quadra. Better performance for the price. But Maine was obsessed.
"Chocombe, how much this beast set you back?" As a son of Heywood, Jackie had a natural love for classic, powerful cars. He walked over, practically drooling, and clapped Maine on the shoulder.
Jackie had just arrived, the drive from Heywood taking him a bit longer. He'd met up with Maine just as they were heading up to Rhys's place.
"Sixteen K," Maine said. "It's an older model, so it's one of the cheaper Rayfields. As for where I got it, a buddy of mine pulled some strings." He immediately launched into a lecture for Jackie about Rayfield's newer models.
Rayfield, the British auto manufacturer, produced exclusively for the elite, specializing in limited-edition hypercars and AVs. Their masterpieces were the Caliburn, a top-tier hypercar, and their flagship, the Aerondight. Those vehicles were way out of Maine's league. Even the base models from recent years started at a million eddies. They were built for corpos and braindance stars.
As for the Caliburn and Aerondight... let's just say, even a "cheap" hot one from the black market, you wouldn't dare buy. They were too conspicuous. There were only a handful in the world. Having one just pop up in Night City was asking for trouble. So, Maine had settled on this "antique"—a car older than he was. But damn, it was beautiful, inside and out. And since it was built for the paranoid rich, its armor plating and crash resistance were top-of-the-line, completely belying its elegant exterior. You get what you pay for...
"Alright, let's load up! Time to see Vick!" Maine waved his arm, and the crew piled in.
Jackie, desperate for a ride in the new car, tossed his keys to Rhys and jumped in with Maine. Dorio, sensing the bromance, graciously took the back seat, letting the two car-nuts geek out in the front.
That left Rhys to drive Jackie's car, with the three women in the back.
Did Rhys have a driver's license?
Of course not. Why would he?
But hey, in a city where a five-year-old could 'legally' own a firearm, driving without a license seemed perfectly reasonable, right?
The sun was high, washing out the neon signs as they hit the highway. Rhys turned on the radio, flipping to 107.3 Body Heat Radio. The song that came on was one of his favorites: "I Really Want to Stay at Your House."
Speeding up on the elevated highway, following Maine, Rhys listened to the music and felt a strange sense in his chest. If Lucy were here, this would be... interesting. Wonder what she thinks of this song.
"I Really Want to Stay at Your House" had always been a popular track, but back then, it was just one of many bangers on the 2077 soundtrack. After Edgerunners dropped, the song became synonymous with one person: Lucy. The bittersweet love song had been unofficially retitled "The Cyber-Widow's Ballad." You couldn't check the comments on any streaming service without wading through a sea of heartbroken edgerunners.
As the song played, Rhys heard a faint sound from the back seat.
Sniff, sniff...
It was like a little puppy sniffing the air. Rhys glanced in the rearview mirror and saw Rebecca leaning way in, her nose practically buried in Sasha's chest, sniffing deeply.
Then, not satisfied, Rebecca leaned forward, craning her neck to sniff Rhys's headrest.
"What are you doing?" Sasha asked, utterly baffled.
Rhys watched, just as curious.
Only Kiwi rolled her eyes and stared out the window.
"Why do you smell like Rhys?" Rebecca asked Sasha, her voice dead serious.
Sasha froze, then put on her default cat-like smile. Answer? Why the hell would I answer that?
If it were Dorio or Maine asking, Sasha would have proudly declared, 'Yeah, I bagged him. So what?' But this was Rebecca. If she didn't want to get yelled at (or punched), playing dumb was the best strategy.
Rhys was about to answer—he didn't see any reason to hide it from the crew—but he saw Sasha's non-reaction and quickly shut his mouth. Right. Sasha's not talking, so I'm not talking. She looks like a ditz, but she's smart as hell.
"And Rhys," Rebecca said, her crimson optic locking onto his eyes in the mirror, "why do you smell like Sasha? That's her brand of shampoo."
"..." Rhys kept his eyes on the road, pretending he hadn't heard.
Rebecca let out an annoyed "Tsk!" She wasn't stupid. A guy smelling like a girl, a girl smelling like a guy, and both of them being together in the morning? It didn't take a genius to figure out what kind of "fluid exchange" had happened.
She flopped back into her seat, elbowing Sasha hard in the ribs.
Rebecca used Honey-Bee Jab!
It was super effective! Sasha is feigning KO!
Rhys quickly killed the music, the car filling with a tense silence. He just drove, staring straight ahead. In the back, Sasha leaned against the window, her eyes squeezed shut, her cat-ear hair clips slightly askew. Rebecca sat bolt upright between them, fuming, her little fists clenched on her meaty thighs.
On the far right, Kiwi just watched the cityscape blur past, the corner of her eye crinkling with a hidden smile.
This goddamn crew... Every day brought some new, ridiculous drama.
Maybe, she thought, not refusing their offer had been the right choice after all.