under him. They were jelly.At the desk, Riley did his best to convince the blue-eyed Asian boy working the register that he hadn’t asked for a double shot.“Sorry,” theboy said, not looking up from his handheld reader. “If it’s on the ticket it’swhat we charge you for.”Riley walked to the train, his head still swimming in a digital fog. While he waited for thedowntown express, a full measure of guilt overwhelmed him.He’d tried for the longest time to deny that he was a data junkie. On the rare occasion,usually at night, while he came down from an after-work fix, he’d admit,
Yeah, I have a problem
.On most days, though, he just wallowed in guilt. He’d push his way onto the train and spend theride back to his office beating himself up. There were no seats today so he’d have to kick himself from a standing position.He grabbed the long rail running along the top of the car, bracing himself for the take-off.Riley leaned forward and let the rush of the train leaving the station push him back upright. Heleaned his head into his arm and shifted his weight to his right leg. The ride on the new bullettrains was smooth and Riley closed his eyes. He didn’t open them until he felt the momentum of the train strain against the left turn into the central business district. He looked out the window,leaned into the bend, and watched downtown get closer. The crowd started gathering at the doorsand Riley turned to join them.
The blue glow on Riley’s face disappeared as the bank of monitors in front of him