fragments from the antique mirror which once had hung on the nearby wall. Smashed splinters of the chest of drawers lay sprawled about the floor, the jewelry box and what had been its contents spread all over the room.
“Bloody Metros,” muttered Tony. “I’ll bet they just enjoyed the hell out of this.”
Cin padded behind him, sniffing only at the odd bit of fluff strewn about the floor. Tony trundled into the bathroom to find, placed neatly on a clear spot on the bathroom vanity, the friendship ring he’d given Carmine. The once meaningful trinket now sat just slightly pushed into a small pile of human excrement. Obviously the Metros made deliveries as well as pickups. Carmine’s message didn’t need a solido sign.
“It figures she’d think up something so tasteless,” Tony said, using some toilet paper to brush the entire mass, ring and all, into the toilet. That part of his life disappeared with a simple flush.
He needed nearly three hours to make some semblance of order out of the chaos of his home, all the while bantering back and forth with himself and the kitten, as the mood suited him.
“I don’t know why I bother. They’re still going to take my home away.
“But then I guess I still need to have somewhere to stay.
“How could they be so callous?
“The solido of mother, ruined…
“Cin, don’t play with the glass!
“What could they possibly have been looking for in there?”
Each broken item he swept into the garbage set the muscles in his jaw dancing to a dark tune. With everything he placed back into its proper place his fists clenched tighter.
“Radio, news.”
“…dder news, four bombs detonated on the Colonization Unlimited Building in downtown today. Seventy-three confirmed dead and one hundred eighty-six others injured.
“Police refuse to speculate if this bombing had anything to do with recent GAM actions. Chief Adams, is this related to the other bombings?”
“How can I tell? We haven’t had any time to run tests, talk to informants, or even get their call to confirm it.”
“So you have no ideas?”
“Sure we have ideas, you moron. But we aren’t stupid enough to give them out where anyone can hear—”
Action crystallized within Tony as he stalked out of his home, leaving Cin loose inside.
For the first time in a dozen months, the clouds above parted and allowed in the silvery light of the moon. This omen lightened Tony’s mood slightly but didn’t stop his flight. He jumped onto the first lift-bus that showed up at his condo’s platform. By chance it happened to be the same one he usually took down to the Rose Quarter. Out of sheer habit he exited the bus near the Wilted Rose. But this time the scenery took on a whole new meaning.
In the past he unconsciously lorded over everyone in this slum. Now he clung just a precarious rung above the people here. A male prostitute flipped his long hair back and batted his brightly painted eyes. A street performer played his antique guitar to the tune of “Stairway to Heaven” and nodded to each person passing. Three beggars sat patiently holding signs proclaiming their inability to find work and starving families. Three hucksters tried to sell him imitation Rolex watches, guaranteed-not-to-break condoms, and bed-space in a local abandoned warehouse. Two recycled food vendors competed with one another for the few credits which could be made on that end of the street just outside the zone patrolled strongly by the Metros.
The people and class changed as he got closer to the Rose. The hookers were cleaner and prettier, the merchandise a bit more upscale—or at least better disguised knock-offs. And Jock stood as the usual intimidating doorman for the Wilted Rose.
“Howdy, Jock,” Tony said, as he saw that one friendly face. A massive alloy arm came out and barred his way into the club.
“Sir, I’m afraid I have special orders dealing with you. You are not allowed to enter. The staff has reports of you bothering Miss Carmine.”
“Excuse me, Jock? How long have I been a patron here?”
“I have my orders, sir.”
“Has everyone gone mad? I’m not a criminal! I’m an ordinary guy.” A tiny hesitation crossed Jock’s face with the barest humanity flickering to life, and Tony pounced on the opening. “Why are they doing this, Jock?”
Jock waved a few other patrons into the club, and then looked around surreptitiously before lowering his voice by at least half.
“Sir, had it been anyone else, I wouldn’t have given it another thought. But you’ve been good to me