Age thirteen, and legally an adult, the state released Alice onto a cold Brooklyn street with nothing but old clothes for protection. Paulie joined her, a ward of her care. With no skills to offer, they drifted down to the basement of society, a life spent in the sewers or huddled in derelict doorways. Her smarts, and Paul’s newfound love of violence, got them noticed by the local street runners. Organized crime had grown to fill the void left by the eviscerated social services, and the gangs always needed fresh meat. No one trusted digital communication anymore; nothing was safe with MIs plugged into every data exchange, so communication had devolved back to wax-sealed slips of paper. The runners delivered mail for the gangs pursued by rival runners and law enforcement.