"Ya mean that Vigil bullshit?" McGrath barked a laugh. "Wasn't nothing came out that alley but a couple of CKs. Kane and the skinny little dude that follows him around all the time. Sure wasn't no masked vigilante."
LeBlanc grinned. "Crazy how warped the story gets after it hits the streets. Kane's a big dude, right?"
"Yeah, big black fella. Got them dragons inked on his arms. They gleam like real scales when the light hits 'em. That's DNA Ink work. Wouldn't mind getting one myself. A big skull with a snake threaded through the eyes. Can't afford DNA Ink, though. Maybe I should be dealing arms instead of trying to sell these skim hogs."
"Good way to get a tour of Mars, I figure. That's Kane's hustle?"
"Yeah. Runs a crew in a warehouse in the Grindbox. Pretty big deal, from what I hear. Lucky that he didn't get creamed in that alley. Maybe you should be buying him a drink. The rest of his boys didn't make it. The RCE plucked them from the rubble. Doesn't matter much, I guess. They'll be back on the streets in a week. Nobody really cares what happens out here. A building going down ain't gonna give the pigs no sleepless nights. Not in the Warrens."
LeBlanc sipped from his glass. "Just another night."
"You better believe it." McGrath cackled drunkenly. "Say, what was it you was working on again?"
"Who says I'm working?"
"You being here. You're a regular at Kermit's dump. Might as well rent a room there. Only come out when you're on Troubleshooter business."
LeBlanc raised his hands. "Okay, you got me. Yeah, I'm working."
"Ha! I knew it. What'cha got going this time?"
"Client got her holoband hacked. I'm supposed to find out whodunit."
"How the hell do you do that? Holoband hacks are damn near impossible. And that's RCE territory anyway. Gotta be top pros to pull a stunt like that. Fat chance of you running down someone that good."
"Yeah, but nothing wrong with coasting on the client's dime while I'm chasing vapor trails, right?"
McGrath threw back his shaggy head and guffawed so hard that red veins webbed across his blotchy face. "Damn straight, son. If they got it to give, ya gotta take it and run."
"Milk that cow for all I can get," LeBlanc said with a grin. "Speaking of, I gotta a few leads to run down. Gotta at least look like I'm doing a respectable job."
"I hear ya. Appreciate the drinks, bud. Next time they're on me."
"We both know that's a lie." LeBlanc walked out of the bar followed by the sound of McGrath's booming laughter.
Snash drifted down in flakes small enough to believe it was snow if he didn't know better. The streets were lit in neon colors; the crowds thinned out. Those that remained were bundled up, most with holovisors over their eyes.
I should break mine out again. Give in to the illusion like everyone else. Debbie loved her holovisor. She'd have run down the street chasing holographic fairies if he didn't keep a tight grip on her hand. He sported his visor back then, grinning as he shared his daughter's virtual world of fantasy creatures and cotton candy clouds.
He shook his head to dispel the memory. He couldn't think about Debbie. It was better to stay busy. Stay numb. Things were easier that way.
"Hey, elderberry."
Rough hands shoved him against the side of the graffiti-ridden building. He cursed inwardly. You damn fool. Let your guard down. Three toughs in masks encircled him, giggling and brandishing stabbing weapons.
"Whatchoo got on you, pops?"
"Got some dibcards?"
"Got some pop pops?"
"C'mon man, give or get shanked."
"Please." LeBlanc cringed, hands up. "Don't hurt me, man. I got a kid…"
They rummaged through his pockets, pushing and shoving. "Don't give two shits 'bout your brat. Don't look at me, fool. I slice you."
One of them hooted. "Got some dibcards. Let's bounce."
"That's all he got?"
"Yeah, time waste."
"We shank?"
LeBlanc fell to the ground, sobbing. "Please. I won't say nothing. Didn't see nothing."
The toughs scoffed in disgust. "Elderberry soft."
"Yeah. No fun."
"We ghost. C'mon, better time at the bar."
"Yeah, like you paying."
LeBlanc waited until they ran around the corner before picking himself up. A few passersby glanced at him, but no one intervened. He wasn't surprised. He pulled his collar up, glad they didn't take his coat. The dibcards he didn't mind. By the time they figured out the crypto was counterfeit, he'd be long gone.
He whistled a warbling tune as he continued on his way. Didn't turn out to be all that bad of a night after all.
Chapter 7
"Found your guy."
Jett glanced over at LeBlanc, who looked like he hadn't slept since the previous night. He sat hunched over like a disheveled rodent, face overrun by stubble, eyes shadowed by dark circles. A vape dangled from his lips and a bottle of Horse Piss lager was in his hand. Strands of hair fell askew over his brow as he downed the bottle like a man dying of thirst.
"You're not looking so hot, LeBlanc. Run into any trouble?"
"Trouble is how I pay the rent. Don't worry about it." LeBlanc glanced around for eavesdroppers before continuing. "Turns out your boy is pretty high on the ladder for the Kings. In charge of one of their firearm stations. Goes by the name Kane. Virgil Kane, but goes by his last name because what tough wants to be called Virgil? Bad dude. Knows the inside of many a cell, but somehow always gets kicked back into the streets. Gotta love those SAULs."
"Where can I find him?"
"Warehouse at the east side of Freshkills. Deep in CK territory. Anyone wandering around there is likely to come up missing. Not that you'd be stupid enough to do that."
"Not my first choice."
"Didn't think so. Well, that's the news, for whatever it's worth."
"Appreciate it." Jett downed a shot of whiskey. "You never asked me why I needed the info."
LeBlanc drained another bottle and scrubbed his mouth with the back of his hand. "Doesn't matter. Discretion is the name of the game if you wanna be a Troubleshooter. My job was to get you the intel. What happens after that is none of my business."
"Well, I owe you." Jett stood up and swiped his holoband over the scanner.
"Leaving already? They're about to announce the lotto numbers."
"Yeah, like I got a chance. I didn't get into the Haven back when it was built. I damn sure won't be getting in now."
"Right… I forgot you were there. When the Havens were constructed. You gotta tell me about that one day."
"Next time. Like I said, I owe you." Jett slung a worn messenger bag over his shoulder and tipped his fingers on the way out the door.
The cold struck immediately, cutting right through his heavy coat. He pulled a knit hat out of his pocket and yanked it on his head. Joining the milling throngs, he made his way to the airship station, where a long elevator ride took him to the top of the building. The lift shuddered the entire way up as if about to break down from the weight of being packed with commuters to max capacity. Jett breathed a sigh of relief when the doors finally squealed open, and he stepped onto the rooftop station. The vantage point provided a clear view of Neo York.
It was a disaster.
At first glance, the city might have been mistaken for a colossal garbage dump. But a closer look revealed the haphazard stacks of garbage were buildings; some remnants of ancient skyscrapers and tenements, others newly constructed, but without regard for design or safety. Buildings were stacked on top of other buildings, creating towers that tilted drunkenly or appeared shockingly haphazard. The only thing stopping the structures from falling was their closeness, creating a chaotic maze of brick, steel, glass, and concrete. Smoke and steam billowed from spouts and chimneys, creating a thick haze that hung over the collective buildings like a dirty swath of cotton. The enclave was assembled in an enormous circle, yet the entire district was dwarfed by the massive structure in the middle of it all.