Silver Rider 577 left the boundary of the West District and plunged into the commercial center of the East District, where the rain turned cold and rational.
It's rare to see heavy rain in the East District.
High-rise buildings first filter most of the rainwater, and what's left slides down glass curtain walls and train tracks.
Unlike the war-torn gang borders, this remains a bustling commercial area, with tidy streets free from gang skirmish debris, and major companies' brand stores operating normally.
Subway tracks vibrate, hovercar vector engines hum, intercity tracks clatter, business vehicles suppress engine roars... all circulate continuously, each emitting its own rumbling sound.
Neon veils once again enveloped Silver Rider 577.
John scanned through the car window.
Outside, holographic billboards cast bewildering reflections on the wet streets—Plato, Eisenberg, Louis Dogg, and the emergency team logos were as vibrant as oil paint in the rain-washed city.
