The cart had no wheels, which made JJ distrust it before it moved.
It sat on two black rails sunk into the lower-lane floor, a long metal box with bench seats, handholds, and scratches along the sides where other passengers had dug in during bad turns. When the clerk tapped his stamp against the rail, the cart slid forward without a push.
Heissman watched the floor carry them and adjusted his grip on the half sword.
"I dislike transportation that hides its moving parts from the paying public."
"The floor is unionized and moves when properly documented," the clerk said.
JJ looked at the rail, then at the clerk.
"I am choosing to believe that was a joke for my own health."
"Many customers choose beliefs for health reasons. Few survive the invoice."
