He stepped into the street, wincing at the cold rain coming down in sheets. The sun, cursed twelve long days ago after a particularly dark night of shotguns and a bellyful of Absolut ringers, was still something only promised in long-range weathercasts and simsense posters. He pulled his coat tighter, warming himself against the rain, which drummed against him like nervous fingers. For a moment he thought about getting something to cover his head, then decided against going back upstairs. It was too late for hats.