"Fuck a duck," I muttered.

"Something wrong?" Veronica asked over our earpieces.

"I understand that this is important to Akane, and she wants me to be here," I said. "However, I have been watching a motorcycle turning left for the past ten minutes."

Naturally, this being Texas, and also Austin being a hub of superscience, there was in fact a test track for unusual vehicles that Veronica was able to get us access to. And it was not, in fact, a terribly interesting place.

"How short is your attention span?" Veronica asked.

"It has been ten entire minutes, and I have ADHD," I said. "Get off my back."

I adjusted my seating, and groaned.

"Well. Fuck it, you've got her covered," I said, standing up. "I'm gonna go talk to the desk jockey and see about getting this thing declared street legal."

"You would rather talk about automotive law and regulations than support your friend?"

"I would rather get a root canal than watch the fucking golf of NASCAR for another minute. An impromptu DMV visit is nothing."

----------------------------------------

"...aaaand, fuel tank."

"It's electric, it doesn't have one," Akane said.

"...Close enough," I said with a shrug. "Department of Transportation-approved tires."

"Check."

"Turn signals."

"Check."

"Right. Well!" I set the checklist aside. "This bike here is, hereby, street legal! And, with that established..." I turned to face Veronica. "How about a race?"

"Street racing is illegal," Veronica said flatly.

"This isn't a street race, though," I said. "You're not on the street, are you?"

Veronica glared at me, and I smoothly continued.

"More importantly, street racing is illegal because speeding and reckless driving are illegal and dangerous," I added. "Akane and I going for a normal, safe drive on a motorcycle and keeping track of our travel time, while you fly overhead and also keep track of your travel time, is about as safe as any trip by motorcycle is."

Veronica opened her mouth, then paused, eyes darting around as she performed some mental calculations.

"Tell you what- we'll do it as a pair of sequential time trials," I said. "We'll drive to some gas station up in Round Rock or Cedar Park or whatever, and then I'll call you when we get there and wait for you to show up. That way, Akane and I have no idea how fast you can make it there, and don't have any pressure to drive faster than she's comfortable with."

"...Fine," Veronica said, looking away. "Where to, then?"

"...That's an excellent question, actually," I muttered. "Lemme just..." I pulled out my phone, opening up Google Maps, and started looking for gas stations in Round Rock.

"Oh, I hear this upcoming Super Bowl is going to be something special," Veronica said. "Something about the halftime show?"

"Oh, cool," Akane said.

"You two have fun with that, I don't care about sports and you can't make me," I said. "Alright, found an endpoint. I reckon we should do this sometime when there aren't a ton of people on the road, so that we don't get hit by a shitty driver."

"So, two in the afternoon on a Thursday?" Akane asked, because it was currently two in the afternoon on a Thursday.

"...Yeah, makes sense to me," I said with a shrug. "Might as well leave from here. Oh, Veronica- would you mind driving Akane's car back to the apartment, so we don't have to leave it here at the storage facility?"

"I can manage that," Veronica said, nodding. "Akane?"

"Right, keys. Let me just get my armor out of the trunk... and a helmet for Roxy."

Soon, Akane was in the storage unit, changing into her armor, and Veronica was driving off.

"So," I said, leaning against the outside of the unit. "Didn't know you were into football."

"I'm actually a lot more athletic than I look," Akane said, only slightly muffled by the paper-thin steel door. "I actually used to be a cheerleader, back in high school! Then, uh... Then the growth spurt hit, and I wasn't so keen on gymastics anymore. But hey! Now I've got the mother of all sports bras, and a martial artist roommate!"

"Oh, you remember that," I said.

"Which martial art do you practice, by the way?" Akane asked.

"Judo," I said. "The Gentle Way... of assisted, involuntary acrobatics. I've also learned some jujitsu as a companion art- y'know, the gentle art of folding clothes while people are still wearing them."

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

"Makes sense," Akane said. "Are you really a third-degree black belt?"

"There was a decent stretch of time when I had nothing better to stake my identity on," I admitted.

"Is it like how half the white transfems you see online will admit to having had a nazi phase?" Akane asked.

"...No, what the fuck?" I asked. "Akane, I'm Jewish."

"Oh, huh, I didn't know that about you," Akane said.

"Also, I'm gonna be honest, I don't keep my finger on the pulse of the online trans scene these days," I said. "I'm neither an IT worker nor a submissive catgirl. I am a mad scientist who frequently performs the divine alchemy of the self, and the fact I've got a small larynx and E-cups is one of the least interesting examples."

"Bullshit you do," Akane said, finally lifting the door, stepping out in her deep red jumpsuit, helmet in one hand, and a handlebar in the other as she walked the bike out of the storage unit. "Roxy, I have E-cups, and mine are a lot bigger than yours."

"Yeah, overestimating how big a given cup size actually is is a very common misconception," I said. "Even when the boobs aren't attached to women who are six feet tall. At any rate, I have a very accurate 3D scan of your body still in my head. You are a 36H, and if you've been wearing an E this entire time..." I shuddered. "When people say STEM majors neglect soft skills, they don't mean it like that."

Akane snorted. "Oh, how I wish Nicky was here to witness that one..."

"Anyhow, I know how to use a sewing machine," I said. "I'll get you hooked up tomorrow, I promise."

"Is this what flirting looks like, with butches?" Akane asked, before dropping her voice into a lower register, approximating 'husky' as best as she was able. "Hello there, kitten. I'm going to sew you a custom-fitted bra, but before that, I'm going to fix your bathroom sink."

"All it needed was a new lift rod, you can get those at Home Depot for eight bucks," I protested. "I- you know what, fuck it, just get on the fucking bike." I put my own helmet on, before closing the storage unit's front door.

"I've got my armor, but are you sure that trenchcoat is enough to protect you in a crash?" Akane asked.

"Not only did I teach you everything you know about armor, I am also a cyborg," I said. "I can't even get a fucking flu shot, my armor is that good. This helmet is purely decorative."

"Huh," Akane said. "You should teach me your cyborg ways, sometime." She put on her helmet, carefully tucking away all of her hair, and climbed onto the motorcycle.

I climbed on behind her, and managed to get a good grip on the chassis without having to actually touch her. "I'll teach you after your apprenticeship is done, and I trust your skills. Now, I've got the stopwatch ready. You ready to burn some rubber?"

"Hell yeah."

----------------------------------------

'Burn some rubber' was an optimistic phrase. It was the middle of the afternoon, when everyone was done with lunch and still at work, but this was still Austin, Texas, and Austin was fucking big. Partly, it was my fault, for picking a destination up in Round Rock. I'd always considered Round Rock to be just a suburb of Austin, rather than a city in its own right, but that was because I grew up in North Austin; if you were in Central Austin, like we were, Round Rock was, shockingly, a lot farther away. Sure, it was mostly a straight shot on I-35, but it was also seventeen fucking miles.

"Fuck it," I said, once we arrived at the gas station twenty minutes later. "I vote we stop and see the actual Round Rock before we leave."

"The what?" Akane asked, deploying the kickstand as I got off the bike.

"The Round Rock," I said, taking off my helmet and setting it down on the rear of the bike. "There is a big-ass rock in a creek called the Round Rock, and that's what the city of Round Rock is named after."

"...Austin makes me feel like I tried too hard with my Dungeons and Dragons worldbuilding," Akane said.

"Wait 'til I tell you about Bee Cave, Cedar Park, or Brushy Creek," I said. "Ooooh, or Jollyville, or Lago Vista."

"Lago Vista sounds normal."

"It's Spanish for 'Lake View,'" I said. "I'll give you three guesses where it is."

"...Huh," Akane said.

"Anyway, are you not from around here?" I asked.

"I was born in Houston, actually," Akane said. "I think I like Austin better, though."

"Honestly, I think that being born in a mediocre place is probably good for you," I said. "Growing up, things will inevitably be unpleasant; that's just the human condition. But if you grew up somewhere that kinda sucks, and there's another place you can go to that doesn't suck at all, that place that doesn't suck will feel awesome. Whereas I grew up here in Austin, and I look around at all of this and I think... Is this really as good as it gets?" I shrugged. "Anyway, I'm gonna text Veronica, and probably grab something from inside. You want anything?"

"If they've got those chocolate twinkies they sometimes do, grab me one of those," Akane said.

"Oh fuck that sounds amazing. I'm getting one for me too." I finished writing the text to Veronica- telling her to use her phone to set her own stopwatch- on my brain implant and hit send.

"I guess I'll just wait here with the bike?" Akane said.

"Don't let anyone touch it," I said. "Maybe, uh... Right, it doesn't have a fuel tank. Fuck, then we can't pretend we're gassing it up."

"I mean, you are going inside to buy snacks," Akane pointed out.

"True," I said. "Alright, see you in a bit."

I rolled my shoulders as I walked up to the convenience store, working out the kinks in my muscles that came from sitting on that godawful motorcycle for that long. Apparently that was the flaw in Akane's original design- that motorcycle was hideously uncomfortable to ride for any length of time, in a way no amount of armor would help.

I stepped inside, mulling over some possible improvements. If I worked on it to the point it became, essentially, my motorcycle, then it would automatically be much faster and have much better handling, just from the raw power I had that Akane currently lacked. But that wouldn't really demonstrate anything she could learn from, besides 'raw power is always important.' Reworking the motorcycle to change its flaw to something else, however... That could be a useful exercise.

I hummed quietly, browsing the snack cake section, looking for chocolate twinkies. With a delighted gasp, I discovered that they had something even better- chocolate zingers, which seemed like off-brand twinkies that had a layer of frosting on top to make them seem different, but were in fact made by the same goddamn company. Why anyone would bother making twinkies when they'd stumbled upon an objectively superior formulation was beyond me, but nonetheless, I bought a three-pack, and stepped out of the gas station with a mind full of ideas of how Akane and I would decide to handle the third cake in the pack.

Those thoughts evaporated as I took in the scene before me.

"Hello, Doctor Updyke," a man in a suit said, pointing what was very clearly a ray gun at me, while his colleague held Akane at gunpoint. "Doctor Skinner would like to speak with you at earliest convenience."