After his shift, Montgomery strode into the darkness, his faux leather cloak swinging. He moved like a wraith though the quiet streets of New Gotham, a shadow blending into the shadows.
He ducked into the netherzones, moving with purpose through the primary level. Despite the curfew on the street above, there was still some foot traffic here. Attractive shades assigned as personal assistants to the rich and powerful took breaks at all hours, their owners inclined to be indulgent. Other shade domestics walked colicky babies and ran late errands.
Montgomery slipped the stud from his ear with practiced ease and stashed it inside his glove. He bought a daily download on a chip, declining the privilege of datasharing with the vendor, and headed to a beverage bar close to the pleasure fringe.
