Ray was at the entrance of the workshop.
He saw Diego leaning on his workbench.
"You shouldn't be here," he said, not looking back. "It's not safe."
Ray stepped in anyway. "Mama said you might need help."
"Your mama worries too much."
"She said you need someone to hold the light."
That made Diego pause. He tried to stand but found out he couldn't. He could not make his left leg act normal, so he leaned past it and clung to the bench so that he might not fall.
"You know how to hold a light without dropping it?"
Ray nodded.
Diego studied him for a long moment. Then he sighed. "Fine. I put the flashlight on the shelf. Try not to touch anything else."
The workshop was just a small space. The workbench occupied most of the space on one wall. It was marked up from years of using tools and hot metal on it. The shelves were bending down because of the weight of heavy parts Ray couldn't name.
Ray grabbed the flashlight. He clicked it on.
"Over here," Diego said.
He took Ray to the back of the workshop, to a door that opened to the backyard.
Bike frames were scattered all over the place. Scooters were missing their plastic covers, and mopeds had no wheels. Small motorcycles had been stripped for parts, leaving their engines exposed.
Some of the bikes were held up by blocks. Others were just on the ground.
"The Graveyard," Diego said. "This is where bikes come when they're done."
Ray walked in slowly and carefully. Every bike had a story behind it. Someone used to ride them. Then something broke, or the money ran out and the bikes ended up here.
The system icon flashed in his vision.
[SCANNING AREA...]
Ray ignored it. He was looking at a small scooter. It used to be light blue, but now it was mostly covered in rust. But for some reason he didn't really understand, he felt drawn to it.
He walked to it and put his hand on the frame.
The metal was hot from the sun. He expected that. But he didn't expect the other feeling. Like a current running up his arm.
The system notification appeared again.
[PASSIVE ABILITY ACTIVATING...]
[MACHINE SYNC: ACTIVE]
He began to feel dizzy. His hand was still on the scooter. Suddenly he could feel the whole machine. It felt like it was part of his own body.
And it was choking.
The scooter couldn't breathe. Something was suffocating the engine, preventing it from starting. Ray didn't know how he knew this. He just did.
"Papa," Ray said. "It can't breathe."
Diego was kneeling next to a different bike, trying to loosen a bolt. "What?"
"The blue one. It can't breathe."
Diego looked up. His face was both confused and annoyed. "Bikes don't breathe, Ray," he said. "They are not living things."
But to Ray, it felt alive. When he touched it, he knew exactly what was wrong. The answer just came to his head: Air filter. It was blocked by dirt. It couldn't get air, so the engine wouldn't start.
"Help me with this wrench," Diego said, going back to his bolt. "Hold the light steady on it."
Ray removed his hand from the scooter. The feeling got weaker, but it didn't go away completely. He walked to Diego and shined the light where his dad told him to.
Diego grunted and pulled hard. The bolt didn't move an inch. He adjusted his grip, stood firmly on his good leg, and pulled harder.
Snap.
The wrench slipped. Diego scraped his hand on the engine. "Mierda!" he yelled.
"Hold it still," Diego muttered, shaking his hand. Blood started coming out of the cut. He didn't seem to notice.
Ray held the light. But he was still looking back at the blue scooter. He couldn't stop thinking about it. The answer was right there. He just had to take off the cover and clean out the dirt.
Diego cleaned his bleeding hand with his overalls and continued to loosen the bolt.
"Papa, I need to pee." Ray said.
Diego waved a hand without looking up. "Alright. Don't take too long."
Ray dropped the flashlight and went back into the house. But he didn't go inside. Instead, he circled around to where Diego kept his tools.
There was a red toolbox on a shelf.
Ray took a flathead screwdriver from it. The handle was too big for his small hand, but held it well.
He went back to the blue scooter, moving quietly. Diego was making enough noise with his own work that he didn't notice. Ray knelt beside the scooter and studied it for a moment
The air filter housing was right there. Four screws were holding it in place. His hands were clumsy. The screwdriver was slipping off his hand.
Scritch. Scritch.
He got the first two screws loose. The third one gave him trouble. It was damaged and rusty. The screwdriver slipped and injured his thumb.
He held himself from crying out and continued working.
The fourth screw finally loosened. The cover came off and Ray put it aside carefully.
The air filter inside looked like it had been used to sweep a barn. It was stuffed with dirt. Ray pulled it out.
But under that, in the intake tract, he could see cleaner metal. The path air was supposed to take.
Ray didn't have a replacement filter. He didn't have compressed air to blow it out. All he had was his shirt. So he used that to scrub the intake, getting dirt all over himself.
He heard Diego moving behind him. Ray quickly pushed the broken filter back in and screwed the cover back on.
"You fell in the toilet?" Diego called.
Ray stood up and cleaned his hands with his shirt. "I'm coming!"
He put the screwdriver back in the toolbox and returned to his spot with the flashlight. They worked in silence for another twenty minutes, Diego struggling to loose a stuck bolt while Ray held the light and tried to keep still.
Eventually Diego gave up. "Piece of junk. I'll put some oil on it and leave it until tomorrow."
He stood up and he walked to the blue scooter. Ray felt his heart beat faster with fear.
"Might as well try this one," Diego muttered. "Peña wanted it working for his kid."
He reached down and turned on the fuel valve. He checked the choke. Then, he put his foot on the starter pedal and pushed it down gently to test it. The engine turned. It had enough pressure to work.
Diego kicked harder.
Chug.
Nothing. He tried again.
Chug-chug.
Still nothing. Diego looked frustrated. He raised his leg for one more attempt.
BRAAAP.
The engine started.
Diego stared at it. Then he stared at the kill switch, like he had somehow hit the starter button by accident. But this was a kick-start. There was no starter button.
He turned off the engine.
Diego looked at the air filter cover. Ray had screwed it down crooked. One of the screws was not where it should be.
"Did you..."
Ray tried to look innocent. But didn't fall for it.
Diego crouched down. He unscrewed the air filter cover and the screws were coming out easily because Ray didn't tighten them well. He pulled out the filter and looked at it.
He was quiet for a moment.
Then he looked at Ray, and his face was hard to read.
"How did you know?" Diego asked quietly.
Ray shrugged. What was he supposed to say? That a game system in his brain let him feel what was wrong with machines? That he had the memories of a thirty-year-old trapped in a kid's body?
"It just looked wrong," Ray said. Which wasn't really a lie.
Diego looked at him for a bit longer. Then he put the filter back and stood up.
"Go inside," Diego said. "Tell your mama I will be back for lunch soon."
Ray just nodded and went back into the house.
The system notification appeared in Ray's vision.
[PASSIVE ABILITY CONFIRMED: MACHINE SYNC]
[LEVEL: BASIC]
[DESCRIPTION: USER CAN DIAGNOSE MECHANICAL ISSUES THROUGH PHYSICAL CONTACT]