7-190: Snow Lake – MagLev Train Station
Fromm gives the tiniest of acknowledging nods.
A number of Taxis pulled up to the rank, presumably waiting for the train, and several have taken on passengers and pulled away.
The next car rolls forward into the gold zone to meet Oliver and the team. The luggage area pops and the young, skinny driver gets out to assist them with their gear, not something that has happened for any of the other passengers they have seen take cabs.
The driver pulls away smartly, “would you mind tagging in please Mers?”
This vehicle is old, and has obviously seen much use, the seats have been repaired of numerous rips and tears, the suspension responds like a dead cat and there is a noticeable whine coming from somewhere near the rear wheels. The interior smells of bleach and tobacco.
The driver is protected by a transparent screen in which are drilled small holes to permit sound to pass, he says, “Not often I get a Forerunner in my car! In town on business, or pleasure?”
Oliver will tag on.
Does this seem… odd? For a taxi in such a state? Would Oliver know?
He looks down at his purple vizierate vest at the mention of business vs pleasure then up to Fromm. “Pleasure.” He will say flatly.