The day Noah left the facility, the sky was a piercing, brilliant blue.
It wasn't purple. There were no neon signs. There were no carpeted skyscrapers. Just concrete, trees, and the sound of traffic.
He stood at the curb, holding a small duffel bag. Inside were his clothes, a few toiletries, and the Collection.
He turned back to look at the building. It was a grey, brick institution. ST. FELIX HOSPITAL - PSYCHIATRIC WARD.
He saw a window on the fourth floor. He imagined he could see a set of laser bars, or a fake window with birds. But it was just glass.
"Goodbye, Mr. Purr-sident," Noah whispered. "You were a terrible boss, but... thanks for the kibble."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the Rubber Duck. He squeezed it. Squeak.
He laughed. It was a rusty sound, unused to the fresh air, but it was real.
A taxi pulled up. The driver was a heavyset man with a mustache. He looked nothing like a walrus, or a dog. He just looked like a guy named Steve.
"Where to, mac?" the driver asked.
Noah opened the back door and tossed his bag in. He sat down, placing Mr. Whiskers on the seat next to him. He buckled the stuffed cat in.
"The airport," Noah said.
The driver raised an eyebrow in the rearview mirror. "Going somewhere nice?"
Noah looked at Mr. Whiskers. He touched the Red Rock in his pocket. He thought of the little girl who wanted to see the chocolate moon.
"Yeah," Noah said, looking out the window as the car pulled away. "We're going to Mars. But we're taking the scenic route."