Story 06 – Part 4 – Who, Me?

“Sweet mother of solenoids,” Vire said as walked into the parking garage under the apartment complex. “I had heard about your car, but seeing is definitely much better.”

Jordan laughed a little from the floor, where he sat against his car. The driver’s side corner was pretty damaged, but it did not smell like anything was leaking. There was certainly enough body damage in general to justify a new car, but he was rather fond of this one. It had been rebuilt enough times to count as a new car. Well, aside from the fact that it was pretty damaged now.

At least his right hand was in better shape than his car. Jordan had been really worried that the tension and all of the jostling would ruin his cybernetic. A few things seemed like they could use tightening, but for the most part it still worked. The doctor must have realized he needed a more durable hand than most people who got cybernetics.

“Is your hand broken?” Vire asked, interrupting Jordan’s thoughts.

“Ah, no. Just in need of a little maintenance,” he told her.

“Can I look at it?”

“If it was anything other than my hand, I would say yes,” Jordan admitted. “No offense, Vi, but you did blow up an orange the first day I met you.”

“That was months ago,” Vire protested. “But I understand. Cybernetics is not my strongest. I can, however, help with your car. I know every decent mechanic in this city.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re not planning on keeping it this hideous green, are you?”

Jordan started laughing and found that he could not stop for several minutes. The lime green was pretty bad, but it was definitely not as bad as some of his other paint jobs had been. The time his bomb squad buddies had managed to get it done in a hot pink was probably the worst. As usual, though, Jordan just kept it that color until he had a reason to repaint everything.

“Do you have some color suggestions?” he asked Vire.

“That’s a tough one,” she told him. “I’ll think of something while we fix your car up. Maybe we can get some good graphics on it.”

“Thanks for the help,” Jordan told her as he finally stood up. “What can I do to repay?”

“We’ll decide that after the work is done. In the mean time, why don’t you tell me what happened? Who was that guy you picked up?”

“I think I’m supposed to be under some sort oath of silence, but I’m not positive,” he admitted.

“That sounds very definite.”

“Honestly, I’m still not sure who the guy was,” Jordan laughed. “Nero would probably know. It was his agency after all.”

“All right, then,” Vire said. “Let’s go ask him. Or do you want to mope by your car a little bit more?”

“I’m coming. My car won’t mind,” Jordan said as he followed her to the stairwell.

He had been tempted to tell her that he would rather take her out to dinner, but he instead ended up sounding like an idiot. He had honestly given up on dating a few years before losing his hand. Too many women had problems with his love of weapons and explosives. One former girlfriend had even called it ‘the love of everything male,’ or something like that. Now that there was a woman he wanted to try dating, Jordan found himself very out of practice. Of course, Nero’s constant harassment was not helping.

“By the way, I heard from Nero that you were going to become a teacher,” Vire said. “That true.”

“I think drill sergeant would be more accurate,” Jordan explained. “I’ll be occasionally helping train the future bomb squad boys. Mostly mine diffusion, but I’ll probably be covering most bomb defusing as well. I have missed the days of flour bombs.”

“Oh,” Vire teased. “Did you set them off on purpose?”

“Who, me? I built them.”