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Derrick wasn’t worried about walking to the bus stop. Sunday mornings were one of the only times he could relax, as the most violent gangsters were usually sleeping in thanks to their Saturday debauchery. There was some petty thievery, and a rare break-in now and then, but people generally weren’t dying on the streets.

A few elderly people, and one young mother holding her baby, were out strolling in front of Hack Alley. Babies were rare around these parts; it seemed like most everyone in this neighborhood was old enough to mug you. The mother whispered to her baby as she walked with a leisure that made it seem like everything was fine, and that the country wasn’t falling apart around them.

A lush, green tree rustled in the wind, and birds flitted around its branches. It was the only tree on this block that had survived, since they planted rows of them almost five years ago. The tree’s roots had broken out of the sidewalk, and concrete debris laid among them, as no one had ever taken the time to clean it up.

The bus pulled up to the stop, and the old woman who was standing there got on, sitting in the reserved elderly seating right behind the empty driver’s seat. There were quite a few people on the bus, even though it was a Sunday morning; most of them were older, unmodified folks, except for one man with a prosthetic arm sitting in the back. Derrick sat down in the seat opposite the man with the arm mod. His arm mod was transhumeral, reaching almost up to his shoulder, and actually very expensive-looking. Its matte-black surface had smooth, swooping edges leading to his upper arm, and the design was almost unbroken, save for a rectangular cut-out, where the man’s Beacon was attached.

It was a shame, seeing that gaudy, orange, government-issued piece of plastic embedded in the beautiful arm. You could actually just carry the Beacon in your wallet or purse once you got yours from the city, but the major mod manufacturers were releasing new models that enabled integration with the Beacon. Identification, payment, appointment reminders, and now even prosthetic calibration and motor control assistance: the Beacon did it all, and the city was in control of it. Pinnacle Industries developed and produced the Beacons, of course, but the city was their biggest client.

An energetic young woman’s voice came from the speakers along the length of the bus. “We are now leaving 169 Ave. Please make sure to stay seated as the bus comes into motion. The next stop is: Riverside Avenue. The final destination is: Cortez Circle.” The doors closed, and the LEDs strips on the empty driver’s seat turned red as the bus began to move.

The lulls and lurches of the buses movements always made him sleepy, when he was feeling tired.

As they began to cross the bridge, the bleak daylight illuminated the remains of old New York City sitting below them. Below the bridge’s railing, and the fortified sea wall beneath it, ruined buildings stretched on for miles along the horizon, and the tides lapped at their feet. Even five years after the series of huge storms that destroyed lower New York City, the city government still hadn’t completed the demolition of the abandoned buildings. It was high tide in the morning, but after the tide fell, you could see the scavengers and treasure hunters crawling through the ruins like little bugs, scaling rocks and toppled cars. But every now and then, a building’s foundations reached their limits, and it would come toppling down, sometimes triggering a domino effect with other buildings, and crushing everyone underneath them.

As they entered the city boundaries, the Beacon attached to the man’s prosthetic arm chirped out in a cheery tone. “Welcome to New Shore City. I hope you have a pleasant visit.” A chorus of voices joined in, as all the other passengers’ Beacons repeated the same message.

#

The city was piercing bright. Even in the daytime, glowing signs and moving ads danced across the skyscrapers that made up this maze of a city, where there were shops on every corner, and some underground as well.

Derrick got off the bus, swiping his card. The cheerful voice from the man’s Beacon sounded out again. “You have $4.07 remaining on your bus balance. Would you like me to automatically top it off from your bank account?” Derrick shuddered as he imagined having that pest on his arm the whole day.

The fastest way to get to the hospital would be to take a different bus route, but Derrick liked to walk through the city whenever he had the chance to visit. It was partly to see all the crazy people living here, with their tricked out mods, and partly to do some window shopping of his own. Even if he couldn’t afford anything, it didn’t mean he couldn’t dream.

A man sitting on the curb was playing a keyboard, both his prosthetic hands had an extra finger on each. His heels were resting on the street, and his feet wiggled wildly as he flew through the complicated and ornamented cover of an earworm pop song that had been on the radio for the past few weeks.

A few kids and their parents watched. Some were recording with their phones, and some with what Derrick presumed were the smart glasses that had been popular lately.

The street musician finished his piece with a flourish, and then held his hands up, wiggling his extra finger along with his feet, as the audience applauded him.

The hospital was only a few blocks away from the station, so Derrick went there as quickly as he could, head down. This was around the time that the city ‘woke up,’ but there was always something going on regardless of the time of day.

There were a flock of drones hovering near the police station. A pair of officers were near the entrance holding controllers and looking up at the drones. They were probably doing a diagnosis or something. The drones probably weren’t active then, but Derrick crossed the street to the other side of the street just to be safe. He didn’t want to be harassed by them again if he could help it. As Derrick was passing the police building, a police drone came down from the flock of them that were hovering near the station, and kept pace with him, a few feet away from and above his face. The voice of a young woman came from the drone. “Hello, sir. Could I check your Beacon, please? I didn’t detect a Beacon on you as you got off the bus. Please place it up to the scanner.” A tube with a camera at the end extruded out from the center of the quad-copter drone.

Ah fuck, not again. These things were getting more and more persistent every year. Derrick pulled his fake ID card out of his wallet, and held it up in front of the drone.

Not even a second later, the drone’s alarms flashed red. “Just a moment, sir. We’ve encountered an issue. Please wait for an officer to come and help.” One of the policemen holding the remotes noticed the alarm, and came over to check it out.

“Show me your Beacon.” He held his hand out, not even looking at Derrick, but at the device in his hand instead. The drone remote control was on his hip holster.

Derrick handed his fake ID over. Sweat was building on his forehead. It was a good one, but he never knew when a cop might make it harder for him.

“You’re still using an ID card, huh.” The cop sighed, holding it up to the light looking at it back and forth. “Get a Beacon already. We’re giving them out for free for chrissakes.”

“Yeah, sorry. I haven’t had a chance to get the new one yet.”

“Yeah, whatever.” The cop tapped the drone’s screen a few time, and then flashed his own Beacon over the camera, and the drone flew back to its flock. “You’re from Chinatown, right?” he said, looking Derrick up and down. “Stay outta trouble.” And with that, he walked away.

Beacons had a uniquely identifiable pattern on them that was very hard to fake. Derrick had a top of the line fake ID thanks to Tony, because, well, he couldn’t exactly get a real one. But once the city made Beacons mandatory, he was out of luck.

There was a small bodega up ahead. I guess I’ll buy that can of beer for Nathan.