Black Rain by Matthew B.J. Delaney

Author:Matthew B.J. Delaney [Delaney, Matthew B.J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781503937017
Publisher: 47North, Seattle
Published: 2016-09-01T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 33

There were several sets of suits in the closet of his living quarters. Jack chose a charcoal-gray pinstripe. Outside, he kept his head down and walked north toward where Arden had said the casino would be.

Jack was amazed by how quickly the city had fallen apart. Homeless and addicts lay passed out along the street corners. The small shops and restaurants were crowded as evening fell, and Synthates still in the uniforms of their day jobs filled the streets—maids and construction workers, nurses and cleaners. A crusher surveillance drone sped by overhead, a black camera eye gleaming as it hovered over the remains of a health club before the craft turned and headed west down 54th Street.

He had lived just on the outside of this world, but Jack had no idea of the squalor most Synthates were forced to live in. He could never have imagined the pressure of this constant surveillance, the daily desperation involved in just surviving.

The casino was visible from blocks away, the old Carnegie Hall transformed into a gaudy gambling and entertainment complex called the Deco. The clientele outside were all well dressed and looked like big-city types—Samp brokers, politicians, tourists and visitors who took the Maglev from lower Manhattan for a night of blackjack, and Synthate whores. A security team of massive Synthates guarded the street outside, ready to push back any invaders from the impoverished zone a few blocks away.

Across the front entrance, letters spelled out “The Deco” in white and silver neon, flanked on either side by illuminated palm trees. A billboard near the street advertised shows starring Synthate-cloned versions of Humphrey Bogart, Lana Turner, and Rudolph Valentino.

Jack made his way to the front door of the Deco and showed the business card to one of the Synthates, a hulking giant with a long scar running down the side of his neck. The doorman waved Jack through, and inside the casino opened up around him. The original structure of Carnegie Hall had been preserved, with its massive open ceiling and wide balconies rising up like layers around him. But the seats had been removed and the machinery of the casino filled the floor.

Once people had sat here for Tchaikovsky. Now slot machines whirred and blinked while dealers presided over card tables and roulette wheels. A bustling crowd sat around tables and slots and stood packed together near roulette wheels and the green felt of craps stands. vidBoards strobed jackpot mao amounts, while voices in Chinese and English advertised games and shows and restaurants, rallying people to a frenzy.

At the front, on the old stage, was a thick redhead Synthate in a tight blue dress that showed off her legs and well-rounded hips. Jack gave his hat to the hatcheck girl, and then he stood at the rear champagne bar between two rows of video slot machines as the redhead began her number.

He waited a moment, then headed up a back set of stairs and out onto a balcony. Below him, the line was boisterous.

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