The bright neon signs flashed above me, making long, weird shadows on the wet streets. The city below the main city was noisy—the low hum of machines, the distant shouts of people gambling, and sometimes the sound of a gunshot from the slums. I kept my hood down, hiding my face in the dim light of the passing ads.
Every step I took felt careful and planned. The reward for catching me had tripled overnight, and now the whole city was looking for me. Any person who looked at me for too long could be a fighter thinking about their chances. Any quiet talk could be about me.
I walked past a group of tough guys hanging around a broken flying car. Their voices became quiet as I walked by. One of them, a big guy with robot arms, looked at me and said something rude.
"Dead man walking."
I didn'
