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Smoked up bar, a skyline dominated by tall corporate buildings and a sleeper ship. The statue of Liberty was taking front stage again, all fattened up with the hopes and dreams of the wretches toiling under it. Not that it mattered to Josh, drinking a double Manhattan in a penthouse venue propped up as high as his ego and his derisive smirk, just like the safe location he was in right now, looking down on people. The man was joined by peers, reviewed as certified lean, rich, fresh, and clean.
But he wasn't entirely all up there in the Liberty skies, he had a secret nobody knew. One that was on his mind. This nouveau riche trailblazer, giving his testimony at the opening ceremony of a high class establishment was a damned Kusari sympathizer. A wretched, ugly soul into entertainment products from Liberty's current biggest economic competitor. Tensions rose in Galileo, spilling blood, tears, platinum, and fears to all stellar directions. Regardless, House Kusari's artisans had to work hard, making Josh tingle inside with warm sensations every time he could sneak a peak at the degenerate holographic entertainment those exquisite artists had prepared this week. He watched that every moment he could spare alone. A luxury of time, expensive even to the rich.
As the speeches ended and festivities began, he started to look for a way out. There! A senator exited the powdering room with an ad hoc retinue, leaving the place unguarded. Josh used that timing to disappear. Pretending to take turns hitting a few rows of crystalized electric lines, he obfuscated his escape and darted off.
The driver parked next to a 200th floor window had a vague idea his employer had something going on which he didn't want good folk to know about. He thought it was just your usual hoes before bros where nobody would come looking. Again, it was just a vague idea. Josh didn't like his women wearing erotic spandex nor any of the latest trends. He liked Earth women with wide hakama embroidered with flames, carrying a katana, buxom chests bandaged to give modesty to exposed flesh with martial discipline instead. He liked Kusari's strange hair colors, the body modders who fulfilled their desires through the liberal application of genetic engineering. A freedom oft looked down upon in House Liberty.
He smiled to himself, all dirty and content. The driver sighed and started going down in altitude to reach what technically counted as a back alley on the planet. The unlawful zone often saw traffic from abroad. Smugglers would use a blind spot in the sensor net they paid good money for, land without authorization, and sell a whole lot of illicit goods. Just so happened the locals adapted, hosting a diverse variety of exotic festivals, accommodating the foreign daredevils who brought them what Interspace wouldn't. That's what Josh, lover of samurai women, was there for.
His footsteps lost in the crowd, the smell of ozone and bad bathing habits masked his subtle perfume. He was out of the suit now, wearing a nondescript jacket over form-fitting clothes with a bit of wear and tear, a bit of mingling with others. He walked down that road, strobe lights blinding him at every intersection. Stepping into pools of light and darkness, it reminded him of his own life, up and down, looking for the right distraction. Didn't take long to find her.
She was immaculate, almond eyed, hot pink haired, and mysterious. The lights all gathered around her, as did a small crowd taking pictures, oohs, aahs, and the occasional stupid vocalization which failed to register for Josh, beyond guiding him to her. He elbowed his way to the front of the crowd and let his jaw drop, as usual. Yet something was different this time. She snuck gazes at him. He didn't expect this. Did she finally recognize him? This cosplayer, did she break the masquerade and seek him out?
He swallowed his heart down, beating wild in his chest. Here he didn't seem special, he was nobody. She was likely the opposite, a nobody becoming a goddess in everybody's eyes. Their roles were never meant to intersect beyond this. Yet he knew how to read people. She definitely wanted something from him. He noticed her indicating a nearby building. Third floor, near that red light window. He understood. He was disappointed, but a man after all. So he nodded slightly and waited to follow her in.
Nobody had met Josh since at the Manhattan penthouses. Rumor has it, he stole corporate funds and made it off across Magellan.
The samurai girl knew where he was. She liked to keep their skulls. Whitened, they really fit the gamma of the Crow Nebula's blues.
