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Something
mewled
and
bubbled
in
the
dark
behind
her
.
He
shook
his
head
.
'
Fight
’
s
over
,
Case
.
Time
to
go
home
.
’
He
tried
to
walk
past
her
,
back
into
the
dark
,
where
something
was
dying
.
She
stopped
him
with
a
hand
on
his
chest
.
'
Friends
of
your
tight
friend
.
Killed
your
girl
for
you
.
You
haven
’
t
done
too
well
for
friends
in
this
town
,
have
you
?
We
got
a
partial
profile
on
that
old
bastard
when
we
did
you
,
man
.
He
’
d
fry
anybody
,
for
a
few
New
ones
.
The
one
back
there
said
they
got
on
to
her
when
she
was
trying
to
fence
your
RAM
.
Just
cheaper
for
them
to
kill
her
and
take
it
.
Save
a
little
money
.
.
.
I
got
the
one
who
had
the
laser
to
tell
me
all
about
it
.
Coincidence
we
were
here
,
but
I
had
to
make
sure
.
’
Her
mouth
was
hard
,
lips
pressed
into
a
thin
line
.
Case
felt
as
though
his
brain
were
jammed
.
'
Who
,
’
he
said
,
'
who
sent
them
?
’
She
passed
him
a
blood
-
flecked
bag
of
preserved
ginger
.
He
saw
that
her
hands
were
sticky
with
blood
.
Back
in
the
shadows
,
someone
made
wet
sounds
and
died
.
After
the
postoperative
check
at
the
clinic
,
Molly
took
him
to
the
port
.
Armitage
was
waiting
.
He
’
d
chartered
a
hovercraft
.
The
last
Case
saw
of
Chiba
were
the
dark
angles
of
the
arcologies
.
Then
a
mist
closed
over
the
black
water
and
the
drifting
shoals
of
waste
.
Home
.
Home
was
BAMA
,
the
Sprawl
,
the
Boston
-
Atlanta
Metropolitan
Axis
.
Program
a
map
to
display
frequency
of
data
exchange
,
every
thousand
megabytes
a
single
pixel
on
a
very
large
screen
.
Manhattan
and
Atlanta
burn
solid
white
.
Then
they
start
to
pulse
,
the
rate
of
traffic
threatening
to
overload
your
simulation
.
Your
map
is
about
to
go
nova
.
Cool
it
down
.
Up
your
scale
.
Each
pixel
a
million
megabytes
.
At
a
hundred
million
megabytes
per
second
,
you
begin
to
make
out
certain
blocks
in
midtown
Manhattan
,
outlines
of
hundred
-
year
-
old
industrial
parks
ringing
the
old
core
of
Atlanta
.
.
.
