"Those are the worst," the driver said with a knowing smile. "The kind that yank you out of a deep sleep and make you afraid to close your eyes again."
The young man managed a faint chuckle.
"Hop in, buddy. Maybe I can give you a little advice while I get you home."
As the young man settled into the back seat, the driver eased the taxi into traffic.
"Meter or negotiated fare, young sir?"
"Negotiated."
"Good choice."
They quickly agreed on a fixed price, sparing both of them the headache of worrying about traffic adding to the fare.
After giving his passenger a minute to settle in, the driver spoke again.
"So... that nightmare. What was it about, if you don't mind me asking?"
The young man hesitated. The driver had been nothing but kind.
"A meteorite," he finally said. "It was falling from the sky. Everyone was terrified—bondsmen, slaves, people working in a field. They all ran for their lives." He paused. "But there was one woman."
"What about her?"
"She just stood there... watching it."
"Watching?"
"As if it was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen."
The driver raised an eyebrow. "That's a pretty vivid dream."
"It felt real."
"You sure it was a dream?"
The young man sat up a little. "What do you mean?"
"I've been driving these streets for over twenty years," the driver replied. "I'm not a religious man, but I've seen people receive warnings... signs... messages they couldn't explain."
"You think that's what this was?"
"I think everything means something." The driver shrugged. "The real question is whether we're willing to find out what."
Silence settled between them as the taxi rolled beneath rows of streetlights, orange pools of light sweeping across the dashboard before disappearing behind them.
"So," the driver said at last, "are you from Elmopolitan?"
"No."
"What brought you here?"
"My father wanted me to learn how to live independently."
The driver smiled. "So... rich kid on a life lesson?"
The young man laughed. "I wish. My father just has very high expectations."
The driver nodded knowingly. "Don't they all?" He chuckled to himself. "My old man wanted me to inherit his hardware store."
"What happened?"
"I told him I'd rather drive a taxi."
The young man looked surprised. "Seriously?"
"Dead serious."
"How'd he take it?"
"He didn't speak to me for two years."
"What changed?"
"He realized I was happier behind a steering wheel than counting nails and selling hammers." The driver smiled to himself. "Parents mean well."
"Most of the time," said the young man.
"But eventually you've got to live your own life instead of the one they planned for you."
The young man stared out the window. "Easier said than done."
"Of course it is." The driver laughed softly. "Nothing worth having comes easy." He glanced into the rearview mirror. "If you want happiness, you've got to fight for it every single day."
The young man nodded. "I appreciate that."
"Don't mention it." The driver grinned. "Just an old cabbie giving away free wisdom." He studied his passenger for a moment. "So... what do you do? You look like some corporate executive."
The young man smiled. "Sorry to disappoint you, but I'm actually hoping to transfer to a better university."
The driver's face brightened. "That's not disappointing. That's progress."
"Thank you."
"I'll admit," the driver said with a laugh, "I thought you were going to tell me you worked in finance."
"You sound like you know a lot about it," said the young man.
"I should." The driver's smile turned nostalgic. "I used to be a financial analyst."
"You did?"
"I did."
"Did it pay well?"
"It made my father proud." He paused before continuing. "But it wasn't my life."
The young man listened quietly.
"I stayed because I wanted to impress him." The driver's fingers tapped lightly against the steering wheel. "But eventually, I had to make the hard decision to be my own boss. I've watched people make that same mistake of impressing their fathers over and over."
He chuckled. "Rich. Poor. Middle class. Everyone trying to become someone else's definition of success."
He sighed.
"And one day they wake up at fifty years old and realize they've spent their entire lives chasing someone else's dream."
He looked into the rearview mirror.
"Don't let that become your story, young sir."
The young man felt impressed, allowing those words to settle deep inside him. "You're surprisingly philosophical for a cab driver."
The driver laughed. "Not philosophical. Just honest. There's a difference."
The young man smiled. "Fair enough."
The driver spoke again. "You mentioned that woman in your dream. The one who wasn't afraid."
"Yeah."
"She sounded like someone who'd already faced enough hardship that even a falling star couldn't shake her."
He slowed slightly as they approached another intersection.
"That's the kind of peace people spend their whole lives searching for." He glanced into the mirror. "Think you'll ever find it?"
The young man considered the question. "I don't know." He smiled faintly. "I hope so."
"That's a good place to start."
A few minutes later, the taxi slowed to a smooth stop near the avenue leading toward his destination.
Ahead of them stood a heavy security barrier stretching across the road, its steel frame gleaming beneath the streetlights.
The driver sighed. "Well... Looks like they closed it right on schedule."
The young man's heart sank.
The avenue gates were locked every night at midnight as part of the district's security policy.
He glanced at his Omega watch. Twelve seventeen.
"It's not your fault," he said warmly as he opened the door.
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a high-denomination bill and offered it to the driver. "Keep the change."
The driver smiled and gently pushed the money back. "No need."
The young man blinked. "But we agreed on a fare."
"I changed my mind." The driver chuckled. "Call it free consultation."
"But I can't just—"
"Sure you can." The driver winked. "I gave you some good advice. Now all I ask is that you think about it."
The young man paused before nodding. "I will." He smiled. "Thank you. I never caught your name."
"Sam." The driver extended a hand. "And yours?"
The young man hesitated for only a moment. "My name is Neo."
He met the driver's eyes.
"Goren Neo."