The rain in Neo-New York didn't wash things clean. It just made the grime slicker.
Marcus Vorne sat in his office on the 14th floor of a building that had been an office tower in 2045 and a halfway house in 2060 and a detective agency in 2078 and now, in 2089, simply a room with a desk, a working heater, and a window that looked out on neon reflecting off wet brick. He was drinking whiskey that cost less than the glass it was in and waiting for a client who probably wouldn't...
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