The moment the rain begins, Tikki knows she’s somewhere near Boston. The smell of the sprawl comes through clearly with every drop. It reminds her of her first visit to a two-leg city, the smells from that night so long ago when she walked into Seoul with her mother. She thought the smells of the plex must be the most exciting scent in the world. She lusted for it. Even when she quietly stalked through the shadows of Hong Kong, and, later, in Seattle, she relished it. She’s since grown weary of the reek.