The hover car's door sealed shut behind Keaton. Silence lasted three seconds before an insistent chime shattered the peace. A holographic display flickered to life above the backseat armrest.
An incoming call.
Keaton felt the incoming headache after reading the name on the caller.
His middle-aged driver glanced back through the small privacy partition—apologetic, exasperated, and more than a little uncomfortable.
That look said everything without a single word: This call has been going on for a while. I tried to stop it, but it just kept coming.
Keaton sighed a resigned breath.
Figures.
He loosened his tie with two fingers, the silk sliding coolly against his knuckles, then leaned back and forced his shoulders to soften.
He pressed "ACCEPT"
The connection sparked instantly.
"You finally remembered how to answer a damn call!"
The voice blasted through the hover car. Even the driver flinched, shoulders jerking up toward his ears.
Keaton closed his eyes for a moment.
