Carl studied the ashy flakes of snow as they pelted his car windows like pebbles. Waves of light from the city beyond his vehicle came and went, bathing him in blue, pink, and white before washing back out. The volume of his radio was so low, the music went over his head like trivial chatter, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Carl Maslow, Psychwatch officer, the man who could save everyone but his own family.

Maybe they weren't worth it, he thought. They'd crossed too many lines and exceeded the point of saving. Maybe they were rabid dogs, wounded soldiers with their limbs blown off and every sense destroyed. He pondered if they'd deserved such apathy only to remember a quote he'd heard from an old movie he'd seen with his father: "Deserved ain't got nothin' to do with it."

"There's not a single person in this world," Carl said, "who hasn't been hurt by something beyond their control. I guess life is fair like that, after all."

"And yet," Loki said, "it fucks up some people more than others. Look at us."

"Look at us?" Catalina repeated. "We're alive! That's a privilege, mi amor."

"Not in this world, it's not," Vince said.

"Holy shit, you finally said more than two words, Vince!" Loki exclaimed. "That's a new record."

Carl clenched his fingers, closed his eyes, and leaned back into his seat.

"Where are we even going anyway?" Loki said.

"I don't know," Carl muttered.

"You should get some rest, Carl," said Catalina. "You've earned some rest after today. I'm sorry you couldn't reconnect with Melanie, but I'm sure she'll come around someday. You did."

"I appreciate your faith in me, Catty. But I've become a reminder of her own trauma. I can't help her anymore. She has to help herself."

"That's how it is for everyone, mi precioso." With his eyes closed and the city of Philadelphia rendered a bright haze beyond the shroud that was his eyelids, Carl could feel Catalina's hand resting on his shoulder.

"This must be how Margo felt that evening," Carl said. "When she called about the break-in at her apartment."

"Until you answered her call," Catalina said. "Then we brought her into our home. You made a difference, Carl!"

"No, we made a difference, Catty." Carl tried to smile but felt his grin sink back down. "I just wish these differences we make lasted longer than they do."

"That's why you gotta keep doing it over and over. Like exercise."

Carl sat up in his seat, glancing out the window. The neon of Downtown vanished, and dilapidated buildings lined the road. All the lights came from apartment windows, bleeding through tattered curtains.

"Hey, Carl," said Loki. Carl imagined him slumped over in a chair, twirling his fingers about. "Is it true Melanie hates me?"

"I don't know, kid. I'd say you could ask her yourself, but..."

"Right, she doesn't want to talk to us ever again."

"We never should've talked to her in the first place," Vince muttered.

"We?" Loki repeated. "You don't do a lot of talking, dude."

"If only the same applied to you. Things were quieter when you weren't around."

The car came to a halt, and Carl glanced around at his surroundings. A shantytown welcomed him and his vehicle, the same empty streets and rundown projects lining the horizon. Behind him, he could see the lights atop the tallest skyscrapers in Philadelphia and holographic ads orbiting them like moons.

"You have reached the end of the Philadelphia city tour," announced the car's AI.

"Drive home," Carl ordered, and the car resumed motion.

"Good thinking, Carl," said Catalina. "Get some sleep. Maybe a hot shower, too."

"I don't think I'm going to sleep tonight."

His head went silent. He heard rocks cracking beneath the tires. He imagined the car having larger tires, the kind that shook the ground and hammered into the pavement.

"You gonna...elaborate on that?" Loki said.

"I want to make a difference, guys."

"Si, you will!" Catalina said. "But you can't do it without a good night's rest."

"I understand, Catty, but I think I can do something now as we speak. Or at least tonight."

"What do you have in mind?"

Carl sat up in his seat, inspecting the roads to his right and his left, noting the vehicles, looking out for intersections in the road. He'd remembered those self-driving behemoths he and Holden encountered on the freeway hours ago, like ghostly ships treading the sea.

"Were we co-conscious earlier when me and Holden were driving home?" Carl asked. "I felt myself dissociating multiple times. Were any of you trying to front?"

He felt the others shaking their heads.

"I'd considered it," Vince said, "but you were fine on your own."

"So none of you heard or saw what happened."

"What happened, Carl?" Catalina asked.

"Holden and I came across these enormous driverless trucks. There were five or six of them surrounding us on the freeway. We couldn't figure out what they were, but they seemed suspicious. There weren't any logos or paint on them or anything."

"That's weird, dude," Loki said. "Did you see where they were going?"

"We thought about following them, but I didn't want Holden getting in trouble or ending up in a dangerous situation. Now that he's safely out of the way, we can investigate."

In his head, Carl imagined Vince sitting in a chair in the corner of a shadowy room, almost pitch-black. The most he'd ever seen of him were his pale white hands and black clothes, never his face. In that moment, he'd sensed his enigmatic protector rising from his seat, taking five steps forward.

"You realize," he hissed, "you're doing this all on a hunch? Out of some desire to make up for letting your family down?"

"I'm telling you, something's going on. And even earlier, I heard on the news that Psychwatch now has ninety-nine percent of the city under its surveillance. We just need that one percent left."

"But it's just one percent," Loki said. "Don't we already live in a safe neighborhood?"

"This isn't just for us, kid. This is about making the city safer for everyone."

Carl felt his younger alter shrug. "Kinda seems like whenever you guys try to make the city safer, violence breaks out. But then again, the last few months have been peaceful. Haven't heard anything about those masked guys in a while."

"Well yeah, they're probably hiding out in the one percent, waiting to strike again. But it's up to Psychwatch to..."

He saw his fist curl, floating before him as if victorious, but he couldn't move. Not his actual body. The dissociation returned, taking him outside. He could almost see his physical body, see it planted in the seat of his car, eyes vacant like a city square past midnight. No light but the moon behind the clouds.

I don't get it, Carl thought. Why so much in one night? What's wrong with me?

"Nothing, mi precioso," said Catalina, her voice like rippling water. "Never has been, never will be. But think about it. Is Psychwatch really the solution? Remember your birthday?"

No. I don't want to.

"I don't want to either, Carl, but it's true. In the end, are they really the empathetic forces of protection they claim to be?"

Breathe...breathe...you're in your car. The car is driving itself, so you don't endanger yourself or other people. Breathe...

"Carl, you're not endangering anyone. You never have. You're one of the kindest, gentlest people anyone will ever have the pleasure of meeting."

Breathe...

He was back. His body belonged to him again. He felt a tear trickle down his cheek.

"Carl?" Loki asked. "You okay, man?"

"If you're wondering," Carl said, "why I'm still with Psychwatch, it's because of two things." He raised up his pointer finger. "I need to make sure that Margo is okay in the end." Then he extended his middle finger. "And it's too late for me to be anywhere else."

Curling his fingers back into a fist and settling his arm on his lap, Carl felt Catalina's hand rest atop his shoulder. "A person like you always has a place to be. Don't lose hope."

"Yeah, dude," Loki said. "Anyone who says otherwise can go fuck themselves."

"Loki! Language." She cleared her throat. "It's ultimately your decision, Carl. But remember to look out for your safety, too. Our safety, I should specify."

"Don't worry, Catty," said Carl. "I won't do anything that stupid. I care about all of us too much. Even you, Vince."

No response.

"Pretty sure he agrees," Loki said. "So how are we gonna catch those trucks?"

"I'm thinking of making a few phone calls. I think Royce, Andrade, and maybe even Nikki can help us."

"I thought that Royce guy got fired after all that shit about Margo getting her memories back."

Carl nodded. "He did, but I'm sure he still knows his way around software vulnerabilities."

"Wait...what?"

"He's a hacker, kid. Or was. But I'm sure it'll all come back to him if we ask him to help."

"How do you hack a self-driving vehicle?"

"The same way anything else should be hacked: carefully and with a damn good reason." Carl leaned forward, two fingers on his ThoughtControl piece as the car slowed to a halt before a red stoplight. "Hello? Royce?"

"Maslow?" replied a scratchy voice, followed by a cough.

"I'm calling you for help, Royce. I know—"

"No. Whatever it is you're planning, don't do it."

"You don't even know what I'm gonna ask."

"If it involves me, then it's already a bad fucking idea. Save yourself, Maslow. Block and delete this number. Forget you ever knew me."

"Royce," Carl sighed, "I don't know what you're up to or if you're still upset over what happened to Margo, but I'm not holding anything against you. I just need you to help me out. There are these driverless trucks on the road that have some people worried. I was thinking you could hack into them and either uncover their pre-programmed route or alter it entirely."

"I'm not government-sanctioned anymore, Maslow. If I try anything like that again, I'll just dig myself deeper than I already have by being a part of Psychwatch."

"Dig deeper?" Carl repeated. "Look, I'm sure we can—"

"I learned too late that you can't rush into everything. And Mason? Psychwatch? They have no patience for anyone, and it's hurting them. It's hurting you, Maslow. I know it is."

"Forget about me, Royce. This is about saving the city."

"Fuck this city. Save yourself and the ones you care about before it's too late. Before someone breaks you."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

The line crackled. The call was over.

"So how did it go?" Loki asked, and Carl responded by shaking his head.

He jerked forward as the car came to an abrupt halt at an intersection, and one of those irksome driverless trucks barreled past him.

"Shit," he said. "Follow that truck!"

Red light filled the car, and its AI replied, "You do not have permission to follow this vehicle, as it is company-owned. To follow a company vehicle, authorization from a supervisor is required."

"Well, what company is it?"

"Information unknown."

"Goddamn it!" Carl shouted.

"Why don't you drive the car yourself?" Loki said. "Or call for backup?"

"It doesn't matter. It's already gone. We'll just track them down through the surveillance cams."

"Then what do we do now?"

Carl took a deep breath and said, "I've gotta make a few more phone calls."

* * *

"So just to be clear," Carl asked Nikki, "your parents are okay with you being out this late?"

His junior colleague didn't respond. Carl turned around to face her as she sat in the backseat. Out of uniform, she sported a pink pullover hoodie and dark gray leggings, and earbuds rested in her ears, barring off the rest of the world.

"Hey," Carl said, waving at her.

Nikki took out a single earbud. "S-S-Sorry, what?"

"You sure your parents are cool with this? I can take you back anytime."

"Y-Y-Yeah, it's alright."

Carl raised his brow. "You don't sound too sure of yourself."

"I know, it's just...it's cold."

"Oh! My bad, I'll get the heater on."

As Carl did just that, his younger colleague added, "Plus, aren't you worried this looks...suspicious? Like isn't this basically vigilantism?"

Carl turned back to her and shrugged. "Not really. I've still got my uniform on. It'll be alright, though. This is for a good cause."

Nikki nodded hesitantly.

"Alright," Carl said, and the car came to a stop before a brownstone apartment. "I'll be back with Andrade. You wait here. And if you can, try to load up a map of the remaining offline neighborhoods."

Carl stepped out of his car and marched up the stairs to the front door. He leaned back, taking in the sight of such a lovely home before knocking on the door.

He took a step back as the door unlocked, and Andrade appeared before him. Her hair was messy, and she wore a dark green tank top and black leggings, her cybernetic arm on full display. While he didn't have the guts to tell her directly, Carl presumed he'd woken her up.

"Good evening, Inspector," he said. "You ready to—"

Carl cut himself short as Andrade threw her robotic arm around him, pulling him in for a hug. She rested her face on his chest, a somewhat comforting sensation that made up for the unwelcoming compactness of her artificial limb.

"Something wrong?" he asked.

No response. She kept holding on.

"Andrade?"

She let go, taking a step back and flashing him a mournful glare.

"Kinda chilly out here," Carl said. "Don't you want to grab a jacket before we head off?"

"I'm fine," she said, and she brushed past him, climbing into the passenger seat.

A minute later, the car was back on the freeway, and the three Psychwatch officers sat in silence. Carl knew he could've done away with the silence by raising the volume on his radio a little louder, but he realized it would've prolonged their silence in an ironic twist. Without the music, someone had to get a word out, eventually. The silence was just what they needed to take everything in. With music, they wouldn't need to say a word. The DJ on the radio or whichever pop singer topping the charts would do the speaking for them, drown out their thoughts and everything important.

Andrade closed her eyes and exhaled, making the first move. "Where are we going, Maslow?"

"Well," Carl said, scratching his scalp, "nowhere yet. Did you watch the news today?"

"Yes."

"Do you remember where they said the last one percent of offline neighborhoods in the city is?"

Andrade raised her brow but kept her eyes focused on the road ahead, not even glancing back at Carl the way he glanced at her. "You want to go there?" she asked. "That's why you brought us along?"

"Yes," Carl said. "And once we find it, we mark the location and send them to Psychwatch so they can install Scans. Maybe if we're lucky, we can talk to some residents and ensure them of their safety."

"What safety, Maslow? Half of the neighborhood will die when the Scans are installed. Rage, drug usage, that's the fastest way to reach at least a Threat Level 4."

"Don't you think opinions have changed since the Rabbit Hole?"

"Opinions might have changed, but not us, Maslow." Andrade paused. "Actually, there's been a lot of change lately. Nothing good."

"Well, we can be the good change," Carl said.

"It's not that easy. I don't even understand how you can be in the same vehicle with me after the rally and the interrogation and..."

Carl nodded, his expression darkening. "It's because," he spoke carefully, "I know you've been harder on yourself than I could ever be. Which makes sense because you're several ranks above me. You've got bigger shoes to fill."

"I don't deserve to be. You're older than me, Maslow. You even knew Mason before Psychwatch. Why is she even acting this way?"

"Acting how, Andrade?"

"You know what she called me down in the Rabbit Hole? A junkie."

Carl nodded his head. When he glared at the backseat, he saw Nikki had one of her earbuds removed, lending an ear to her fellow officers.

"You know what that means?" Andrade said. "It means that even after losing my arm, even after Miami and Atlanta and moving up here to Philadelphia, after the group therapy sessions and sobriety coins, she still doesn't see me as her equal. She thought that instead of doing my job, I'd be down in the Rabbit Hole, going on drug benders, fucking everything in my line of sight."

"So what does all of that make you want to do?" Carl said. "How would you like to put all of those cruel assumptions to rest?"

Andrade finally met Carl's eyes, pitiful and frustrated. "It's too late now," she said. "Sandoval, Atkinson, Sanger, the next generation of Psychwatch officers. They will have to clean up after us."

"Andrade, you're a part of that new generation, too. At least compared to people like me and Mason. How old are you again?"

"Forty-two years old, Maslow."

"Dang," Nikki chimed in. "I thought you were younger."

"See?" Carl said. "So you can still make a difference. All you have to do is tell me the name of that one percent."

"I still don't understand how you can forgive me after everything."

"Well, in a way," Carl glared at his colleague, "I never really said I did."

Nikki's jaw dropped, and Andrade returned her sights to the road ahead, tense as a wire strained to its limits.

"So," Carl continued, "do you remember where this one percent is?"

Andrade swallowed, taking a moment to catch her breath, before replying in a cracking voice, "Several blocks in northern Nicetown, all around Wayne Junction."

"Direct to Wayne Junction," Carl declared, and his vehicle registered the info with a series of beeps. "Did you bring your Fatemaker?"

Andrade shook her head. "No more violence, Maslow."

"There won't be. It's only for self-defense."

* * *

Wayne Junction. Only a decade ago, a bustling transportation center, famously upgraded to a maglev like all the other major metropolitan train stations. However, years of gruesome suicides and terrorist threats lobbed dirt in the eyes of those with a vision of the future of transportation, and the station was closed. All the surrounding shops and businesses followed suit, and spark roses took the place of their patrons as if to mark where their spirits remained.

As the car came to a halt before the station, the three Psychwatch officers caught sight of a gathering of youths standing on the sidewalk before the ramp up to the platform. Some of them sat on the ramp's railing. Some of them smoked. Others tended to the makeshift flowerbed of spark roses positioned by the road where a bus stop once stood.

"They look young," Carl said. "What could they be doing?"

"Looks like pot," Andrade said softly. "As if kids these days don't have shitty attention spans already." She leaned closer to the window, squinting her eyes. "Some of them have the MindLock logo painted on their cheek. That black and yellow lock shaped like a brain. Two of them are wearing those masks from the rally."

"The white ones with the red Xs over the eyes?"

"Si."

Carl darted his eyes towards Nikki. "You still have the map on?" he said.