Credit: Jamie Tufrey

Aramanta arrived at her apartment, quickly settled her affairs and transferred her personal belongings to the new home.

When she informed her landlord employer of her change in residence status, she whistled in appreciation at the bump it gave her salary. Nothing else to do, but still she hesitated.

"You've wanted this forever, what's the problem?" she asked herself aloud. She smoothed non-existent wrinkles from her designer skirt. "You can't possibly miss that, that-"

"Your taxi has arrived," said the computer.

Amaranta quickly ran her hands over her impeccably coiffed hair, then, satisfied that every strand was in place, strode to the apartment complex transit booth. "Comp, end session."

Groaning, Aramanta wrinkled her nose at the stench pervading the dank cubical. She pulled the feeding tube out of her mouth, grimacing at the rancid aftertaste. Her body protested as she sat down.

She pushed lank locks out of her face and the hair left greasy streaks on her hand. She looked at it in disgust, then bent to unclip the zappers that kept her muscles from atrophying. She pulled on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, emblazoned with the faded logo of her employer, Inteck.

She snorted, all trace of her earlier hesitancy gone. She'd forgotten what it was like – had gone too long without a downtime. No, she would not miss her organic peripheral. Briefly she considered showering, then just as quickly discarded the idea as pointless.

She wobbled to Inteck's parking garage where her taxi waited.

Amaranta showed the address of the escrow office to the driver and settled back in her seat without saying a word. The car swerved to avoid the junk that littered the road as they drove past crumbling buildings with decaying facades.

She took shallow breaths, trying not to gag at the putrid smell that assaulted her in spite of the taxi's filtration system. When she had her breathing under control, she squinted out the window, blinking in the unaccustomed light.

Looking down at the address in her hand, she leaned forward. Her voice was harsh from disuse. "Why are you going this way? Isn't the Sunset Highway quicker?"

Startled, the driver glanced over his shoulder. "You haven't been out in a while, have you? Can't go that way. Feral kids took over that whole stretch. No one's been able to drive there for six, maybe seven years now. The government says it's easier for people to use other roads than to ferret the kids out and find other homes for them."

"Feral kids?"

"Yeah, people get a chance to become residents, but they don't have enough money to take their kids, so they leave them. No one wants them. Then the kids join gangs, and... " He shrugged.

Amaranta sank back into her chair and grunted. The driver continued to cast furtive glances at her in the rearview mirror. She snatched a glimpse of her face, pallid save for the patchy brown circles under her bloodshot eyes. She shuddered and looked away.

"Here we are."