17
Never Say ‘Ain’t Ever’
Beni’s handling skills seem to have recovered as quickly as he said they would, and within a few minutes they’re in a nondescript office complex in the bad part of the North Bulari industrial district. Manu feels his soul shriveling just being in this part of town, which during the day is full of indentured office workers and the humming of official business: trade, infrastructure, construction. He doesn’t understand what they do here, and he doesn’t care.
Cheap adobe walls make the street feel like a desert canyon, cut off the view to the businesses behind, differentiated only by the address numbers and occasional business name stenciled on the sheetmetal gates. The better-kept businesses have painted their section of the wall, stopping sharply at the property
