Cell phones worked for data delivery—sort of. Dottie was fitfully hooking her Motorola into her laptop, using power from the Rover’s cigarette lighter. That might do for the occasional brief e-mail, but that certainly wasn’t Van’s idea of access. For Van, cell phones were like breath mints. Even on America’s major interstates, which were spiked with cell-phone towers from coast to coast, those breath mints had big holes in the middle. Any dip in the highway could drop you right out of a download.