20
Ryan Miller popped his trench coat collar and held his fedora as a harsh Provenance breeze blew through him.
He turned his cheek, softening the blow somewhat. His eyes watered.
He paused in place, waiting for a break.
But the wind blew incessantly, making him question why he hadn't taken a colleague’s suggestion to buy a better jacket.
Provenance lay before him, a windy, rocky flatland filled with silver home pods.
They all looked the same, and if he hadn't done his research in the GALPOL database, he wouldn't have had the first clue about how to navigate the serpentine residential grid. The city planning was all about curved lines; the map he memorized looked like a square grid that had been bent by a strong breeze.
He stood in front of a house pod. It was an unassuming silver b
