Inside the Hovercab on the way back to his Pod Hive, Max came to terms with this new situation.

He didn't doubt for a second that the Polar-Tech contract he'd signed included a section which legally allowed the corporation to change the terms whenever they pleased. That was standard practice for corporations. Not that it would've changed his decision—even if Max had known, he would've signed the contract anyways. After losing his father and brother to the same illness, he was willing to pay just about any price to save his mother from the same fate.

There were cheaper, unregulated options to be found in Gray City of course; small cryosleep outfits hidden deep in back alleys. These places always came with a serious degree of risk, however. They often used pre-gen models pillaged from dumpyards, and their unreliability was infamous throughout the Bottoms. Not to mention, the owners of such businesses were seldom the reputable sort. Stories of clients waking from cryo with organs missing were all too common.

Whatever criticism could be levied against Polar-Tech, at least their technology was state of the art, and they operated within the law—most of the time. It’s just that the law rarely favored people like Max. Today was a good reminder.

Max wasn’t usually the cursing type, but right then seemed as good a time as any.

“Motherfucker,” he said... and it felt good. Surprisingly good. “Motherfucker!”

“Excuse me?” came the Hovercab’s voice.

“Oh, sorry. Not you.”

“That’s a relief! Because if you have any complaints about your experience with Hovercab, please direct all comments and feedback to—”

“No, no. The ride is fine. It’s just… other stuff.”

“Other stuff? Yes, my biometric scanners are picking up your distress. Do feel free to speak your thoughts aloud. My programming allows for minor advice-giving. I make a good listener. In fact, it’s a featured module of my creation. And remember, all information and conversation that take place inside Hovercab is strictly confidential, under penalty of code 34566—”

“Alright, alright, I get it.” Max frowned. Sadly, he didn’t really have anyone else to talk to. No friends in Gray City, and what family remained to him were currently… inaccessible. Even among his friends in the mines, nobody really talked about their real-life problems. It was considered rude to speak of the real world while inside Starsword Online, actually. It ruined immersion.

So, Max began to explain his predicament to the Hovercab. How his mother was terminally ill, and her treatment expensive. How he had put her in cryosleep so he could save money. How Polar-Tech had increased the price of their service with zero warning. How we could only afford another month of two of service before his funds ran dry completely. How he had no other real way of earning money. Before Max knew it, all his worries spilled out.

By the time he was done, the cab had landed outside the front doors to Max’s Pod Hive.

“I see," said the Hovercab. "It sounds like you need a miracle."

“Wow. Thanks. Great advice.”

“You’re welcome! Unfortunately, my programming does not allow me to offer pity discounts. But if it did, I would certainly give you one.”

“Well, I appreciate the thought.”

“Thank you for choosing Hovercab! Before exiting the vehicle, please remember to put on—”

Max shut the door before the AI could finish.

As he mounted the steps and walked through the Pod Hive lobby to the elevator, Max barely registered his surroundings. Between the exhaustion and the thoughts racing through his brain, his body was on autopilot. There had to be something he hadn't thought of yet, something he could do!

Of course, Max still held out hope he'd get lucky one day and find a gold gem... but like the Hovercab said, that would be a miracle. Max didn't want to leave it up to chance. He couldn't afford to. No, he needed something he could bank on.

But what?

Getting a loan wasn't an option. All the licensed banks had strict income-based limits and wouldn't deal with anyone from the Bottoms. Only gang-run lenders would even consider giving Max a loan, but he'd never heard of anyone ever being better off after taking a loan from a shark. The rates were even worse, and if you failed to pay? You ended up working for them, or dead.

If Max was going to die for this, which he was more than ready to do, he'd rather choose a different way of going out.

Who did he know that had money?

Most of the people he knew in the real world were even worse off than himself. Those that weren't? They were barely keeping their heads above water, just like him. He couldn't ask his mining friends, either. Even if they would've been able to help, he would never ask it of them anyways. No, if there was one person he knew with money...

It had to be Proprietor Skole.

Based on his cut of the gems and how many people in his employ, the owner of Brix Mines had to be wealthy beyond imagining. Surely no single person needed all that money. And what did Skole do to deserve any of it? The man sat in his office all day, and when he did appear all he did was bark orders. Max had never heard him say a kind thing, nor had he ever heard anyone say a kind thing about him. Max was certain the proprietor would laugh in his face if he asked to borrow coin.

But... what if Max never asked?

He thought back to Skole's open window and the light going out. A building that nice... surely it also held nice things inside. An idea started to take shape. A crazy idea. A dangerous idea—maybe even fatal. But what other choice did he have?

Max sighed. It'd take careful planning.

All this thinking was making him dizzy. He pressed his forehead against the cool glass of the elevator window, as the shadowed depths of the Bottoms got further and further away. His brain felt fried. Right now, some food and sleep was what he needed most.

The elevator slowed.

Ding!

“Floor 56,” said the elevator’s AI. “Have a wonderful day!”