The black sedan crawled through the Narrows, brake lights throwing a feverish glow onto the slick, cracked asphalt. Sterling traced the stitched seam of the leather armrest, drumming an absent, syncopated beat as Nikoli steered through the maze of battered storefronts and ancient tenements. Rain rattled against the roof like a thousand desperate fingernails. Sterling eyed a scattering of street kids who'd taken refuge in the neon shadow of a pawn shop, then vanished into an alley at the car's approach.
"Traffic's getting out of hand," Nikoli said. His voice was flat, neutral. He never wasted emotion on the obvious.
"Council's expansion," Sterling replied, not bothering to look away from the window. "More checkpoints, more cargo. Eventually the whole gridlock will choke itself out, but by
