The sky above Waterle was devoid of stars and spitting acid rain. The pools of rain water on the asphalt reflected a kaleidoscopic film of mystery chemicals. It mirrored the state of Caldwell』s mind. He tried to focus his thoughts on the dead hacker Glyph. It was hard to believe that the hacker had betrayed him, for a pittano less. What an absolutely pointless way to die.
He had to find Kat, the only human that could pass as a friend, to say goodbye. She』d be crushed if she found out that he』d left the Union without letting her know. And he wasn』t going to die without doing that. Although they made tact very rarely retly, Caldwell had been too busy trying to make a living, a strong unbreakable boed between them. It went beyond the bounds of friendship, family or amorous relationships.
They had met in the back alleys of Waterloo at a time when Caldwell had no memories to speak of and he was besieged by migraihat were so intehat he frequently blacked out from the pain. Kat had found him one rainy day unscious on the crete floor of one of the dark drippirian tunnels. Above his still body a cacophony of vehicles and the sound of shoes pounding asphalt. Pedestrians no longer ventured below to the bridge』s underground walkways out of a not totally irrational fear for their personal safety.
She』d half dragged and half carried him to the discarded photocopier box that formed the basis of her home. Half an hour later he had regained sciousness and they』d bee acquainted, awkwardly, amid the homeless squalor of cardboard underh this very bridge that loomed dark and mysterious in front of him. Kat was the first memory that Caldwell formed that involved another human being and they had fed between them an inexplicable bond that went beyond the fact that she had rescued him.
After his ride in the limo, he now knew a lot more about how he had got to the cardboard sprawl. It was a road to destru paved by the man in the big black limousine who called himself Fouler and by the anization he represented. An anization he himself used to be part of that coldly spat him out into the dereli of Waterloo. He would make them pay.
High above, Maglevs decelerated into Waterloo station, their livery flashing brilliantly betweerapezoid steel lattices of Waterle, vibrations rumbling through the crete. The station itself was a hulking glass monolith backlit by powerful spotlights that shot pure white light up at the night sky. The drizzle gave the lights a heraldic hue. Across the cityscape the glimmering lights of affluent living rooms blinked in the night.
「I art of the system once,」 Caldwell muttered under his breath. 「I art of the system.」 He swiped the raindrops from his jacket. Luckily the knapsack had a roof lining and the syic leather did a good job of keeping water out.
Caldwell trudged through oil slick rain puddles towards the end of the bridge. His heart quied with anticipation of what he would find in Hong Kong, the city of his birth. He was going there tomorrow. All this didn』t make much sehings were happening too quickly. What did that city hold for him besides remnants of lost memories? Would Hong Kong rekindle some past affe for the place?
The memories triggered by Fouler were crystal-clear in his mind, kept in sharp focus by an acute desire to remember. Caldwell』s mind had been transformed from drab landscapes of gray to blaterlaced with the bright neons of the Far East. He could see them now, the gl