Manny could tell the Voltaire electric car was going to be trouble. As it rolled into his garage behind a tow truck, the scowling face of the man sitting next to the tow truck driver reminded Manny of a poorly sculpted pumpkin.

Manny's suspicion was confirmed once the car and its owner were deposited in a service bay.

"It's the battery," said the car's owner, Ryan, his scowl deepening. "The mileage was getting worse and worse over the past month, and today it wouldn't even start."

Manny didn't ask why he hadn't brought it in a month ago.

"Let's take a look," he said instead.

After checking the Voltaire's battery, Manny confirmed that yes, it was dead and no, it wouldn't take a charge.

"You'll have to replace the battery," he said. "Have you called your dealer?"

"Those crooks want twenty thousand for a new battery," said Ryan. "I hoped you would be more reasonable."

Manny was already shaking his head. "I'm sorry Ryan," he said. "But that's what the battery costs. I'd have to order it from Voltaire, and once I tack on my labor, the final charge would be the same."

"I spent fifty thousand on this damned green car," Ryan burst out, his face turning purple. "Are you saying there's nothing you can do? It's a battery for crying out loud. Why does it cost so much?"

Manny took a cautious step back.

"Voltaire custom designed them," he said. "There's no other source for them. So they can charge what they want."

Ryan glared at him. "You're supposed to be the guy who comes up with all these creative work-arounds to get old cars running again."

"Sure," said Manny. "Classic cars. But this," he flicked his hand at the Voltaire, "Isn't a classic."

"Won't you even try?" Ryan's mouth twisted down. "I'll pay you ten thousand if you can get it running again."

Manny looked at the Voltaire, then at Ryan's desperate face.

"Okay," he said. "I'll try. If you pay in advance."

Over the next few weeks Manny regretted his decision. Removing the twelve hundred pound battery pack was a chore in itself. Legally disposing of it was an extra problem that took a hefty bite from his shrinking budget.

Now he was facing the problem of finding a new power source. A green one. That was the deal. A new battery pack was out of the question. Not for the nine thousand and change he had left from Ryan's prepayment.

A hydrogen fuel cell looked promising until he discovered how difficult and expensive it would be to supply the hydrogen. He flirted with ultra-capacitors. Then he discarded them. None that fit in the empty battery compartment could hold enough charge to move the car for more than half an hour.

All this time, Ryan called him every two or three days, wanting updates, demanding estimates of when he'd be done, and expressing increasing frustration over how long it was taking.

"How hard can it be?" Ryan asked, not bothering to hide his growing annoyance. "We can fly people into space. We can send tourists in submarines to the bottom of the ocean. Why is it such a problem to get my car moving again?"

The solution came to Manny when he woke one morning. The fog of sleep dissolved, leaving the outline of an idea. In between servicing other customers, Manny researched his idea over the next two days. At last, convinced it would work, he bought the necessary equipment, and began to build and install the actual device inside the Voltaire's empty battery compartment.

Meanwhile, Ryan kept calling.

"When will you be done?" he asked over Manny's cell phone.

Manny lay on his back on a creeper, beneath the Voltaire, drilling a two inch hole in the bottom of the car.

"Give me three days," he said, squinting up into the hole. "Come by around four in the afternoon to pick her up."

Three days later, Ryan arrived an hour early.

Manny, underneath a Ford Fairlane, wasn't surprised to hear Ryan's voice. He slid his creeper out from under the car where he'd been installing new 3D printed oil plugs. He clambered to his feet, and wiped his hands on a greasy rag.

"Come on," he said, leading the way to his parking lot. "I'll show you what I've done."

In the lot, he opened the Voltaire's driver door for Ryan and handed him the control fob.

"Start her up," said Manny, getting in the passenger seat.

Ryan pressed the start button on the fob and the Voltaire's dashboard panels lit up. A soft purr filled the inside of the car. Manny pointed to the charge indicator which showed one hundred percent.

"Take it for a spin," he suggested.

He sat back as Ryan drove out of the lot, circled the block and then sped onto a nearby four lane county road.

Ryan was grinning, the first time Manny had seen him do this, when they turned into his garage and slowed to a halt.

"It all works perfectly," said Ryan, glancing down at the charge indicator, which now read ninety nine percent. "How many miles between charges?"

"About that," said Manny. "You don't exactly recharge it. It doesn't have a battery anymore."

"What?" Ryan's face lost its good humor. "Then what's it running on?"

"A portable twenty kilowatt generator."

Ryan's face now resembled the angry pumpkin Manny first saw in the tow truck.

"That wasn't our agreement," said Ryan. "It's got to be green."

"Oh, it's green," Manny assured him. "Carbon neutral all the way. It's running on e-fuel."

"What's that?"

"Fuel made from carbon dioxide, water and solar energy."

"Where do I get it?"

"It's around," said Manny. "I'll be selling it here." He quoted the price and watched Ryan's face turn purple again.

"Don't worry," said Manny, getting out of the car. "If you don't want e-fuel, it will run just as well on diesel."