But retiring takes nuyen, she reminded herself, a lot of nuyen. She considered bringing up her credit balance on the telecom screen, then decided against it. Too depressing. Most runners burned up their nuyen on high living and parties, but she’d made a habit of always squirreling away as much as possible. She figured she had maybe seventy thousand nuyen by now. A good balance, but way short of what she thought of as "frag you" money—the amount she’d need to kiss Seattle goodbye, pull a quick fade, and slide on down to the islands. She needed a few more good scores or maybe one serious windfall. I need to make a killing, she thought glumly.