From And the Deep Blue Sea by Elizabeth Bear. The end of the world had come and gone. It turned out not to matter much in the long run. The mail still had to get through. Harrie signed yesterday`s paperwork, checked the dates against the calendar, contemplated her signature for a moment, and capped her pen. She weighed the metal barrel in her hand and met Dispatch`s faded eyes. "What`s special about this trip?" He shrugged and turned the clipboard around on the counter, checking each sheet to be certain she`d filled them out properly. She didn`t bother watching. She never made mistakes. "Does there have to be something special?" "You don`t pay my fees unless it`s special, Patch." She grinned as he lifted an insulated steel case onto the counter. "This has to be in Sacramento in eight hours," he said. "What is it?" "Medical goods. Fetal stem-cell cultures. In a climate-controlled unit. They can`t get too hot or too cold, there`s some arcane formula about how long they can live in this given quantity of growth media, and the customer`s paying very handsomely to see them in California by eighteen hundred hours." "It`s almost oh ten hundred now— What`s too hot or too cold?" Harrie hefted the case. It was lighter than it looked; it would slide effortlessly into the saddlebags on her touring bike. "Any hotter than it already is," Dispatch said, mopping his brow. "Can you do it?" "Eight hours? Phoenix to Sacramento?" Harrie leaned back to check the sun. "It`ll take me through Vegas. The California routes aren`t any good at that speed since the Big One." "I wouldn`t send anybody else. Fastest way is through Reno." "There`s no gasoline from somewhere this side of the dam to Tonopah. Even my courier card won`t help me there—" "There`s a checkpoint in Boulder City. They`ll fuel you." "Military?" "I did say they were paying very well." He shrugged, shoulders already gleaming with sweat. It was going to be a hot one. Harrie guessed it would hit a hundred and twenty in Phoenix. At least she was headed north. "I`ll do it," she said, and held her hand out for the package receipt. "Any pickups in Reno?" "You know what they say about Reno?" "Yeah. It`s so close to Hell that you can see Sparks." Naming the city`s largest suburb. "Right. You don`t want anything in Reno. Go straight through," Patch said. "Don`t stop in Vegas, whatever you do. The overpass`s come down, but that won`t affect you unless there`s debris. Stay on the 95 through to Fallon; it`ll see you clear." "Check." She slung the case over her shoulder, pretending she didn`t see Patch wince. "I`ll radio when I hit Sacramento—" "Telegraph," he said. "The crackle between here and there would kill your signal otherwise." "Check," again, turning to the propped-open door. Her prewar Kawasaki Concours crouched against the crumbling curb like an enormous, restless cat. Not the prettiest bike around, but it got you there. Assuming you didn`t ditch the top-heavy son of a bitch in the parking lot. "Harrie—" "What?" She paused, but didn`t turn. "If you meet the Buddha on the road, kill him." She glanced behind her, strands of hair catching on the strap of the insulated case and on the shoulder loops of her leathers. "What if I meet the Devil?"