“I’m not Mr. Burton,” the man said again. “You can call me Amos.”
“Whatever you want. But I think you’d better haul ass out of town if you don’t want to get in some serious shit, Amos.”
“You ain’t the only one that thinks that. But I’m good. I know where the high-speed lines are. I won’t miss my ride.”
“All right then,” the team lead said with a crisp nod. “Have a better one.”
The security team moved on, flowing around the big man like river water around a stone. Amos watched them go, then went to the tea-and-coffee stand, bought a cup of black coffee and a corn muffin. He stood on the corner for a long minute, eating and drinking and breathing the air of the only city he’d ever known. When he was done, he dropped the cup and the muffin wrapper into the recycling bin and turned north toward the high-speed line and Bogotá station and Luna. And, who knew, maybe the vastness beyond the moon. The sweep of planets and moons and asteroids that humanity had spread to, and where the chances of running into anybody from Baltimore were vanishingly small. A needle in a haystack all of humanity wide.
Amos Burton was a tall, stocky, pale-skinned man with an amiable smile, an unpleasant past, and a talent for cheerful violence. He left Baltimore to its dynamic balance of crime and law, exotics and mundanity, love and emptiness. The number of people who knew him and loved him could be counted on one hand and leave most of the fingers spare, and when he was gone, the city went on without him as if he had never been.
Meet the Author
James S. A. Corey is the pen name of fantasy author Daniel Abraham and Ty Franck. They both live in Albuquerque, New Mexico. Find out more about this series at www.the-expanse.com.
Also by James S. A. Corey
THE EXPANSE
Leviathan Wakes
Caliban's War
Abaddon's Gate
Cibola Burn
THE EXPANSE SHORT FICTION
The Butcher of Anderson Station
Gods of Risk
The Churn