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20 lines
988 B
Plaintext
20 lines
988 B
Plaintext
start cf.input >
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The sky above the port was the color of television, tuned
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to a dead channel.
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"It's not like I'm using," Case heard someone say, as he
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shouldered his way through the crowd around the door of the
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Chat. "It's like my body's developed this massive drug deficiency."
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It was a Sprawl voice and a Sprawl joke. The Chatsubo
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was a bar for professional expatriates; you could drink there
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for a week and never hear two words in Japanese.
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Ratz was tending bar, his prosthetic arm jerking monotonously
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as he filled a tray of glasses with draft Kirin. He saw
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Case and smiled, his teeth a web work of East European steel
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and brown decay. Case found a place at the bar, between the
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unlikely tan on one of Lonny Zone's whores and the crisp naval
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uniform of a tall African whose cheekbones were ridged with
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Joe boys," Ratz said, shoving a draft across the bar with his
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good hand. "Maybe some business with you, Case?"
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Case shrugged. The girl to his right giggled and nudged
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< end cf.input
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