The burnt-out ruin of the old county court building stood opposite the shining twelve-story tower occupied by Omni Police Services and associated corporate agencies. Everywhere Rico turned his eyes, the charred, the gutted, and the wasted mingled with the bright and glittery. An addict who'd probably traded his legs, one arm, one eye, and an ear for highs "Better Than Life" lay sprawled on the sidewalk in a simchip-induced coma, while trippers in glinting neo-monochrome and flashing crystal jewels sashayed by. Black limos and gangers riding on whining plastic choppers shared the roadway, roaring past the stripped-down wreck of an old CMC stepvan and other derelicts rusting in the gutters.