The main floor of the parking garage is lit by fires flickering from rusty metal cans. Perhaps as many as forty motorcycles, most of them gleaming with aerodynamic NeoKevlar armor, sit parked in small scattered groups. The bikes' riders are similarly scattered, some dancing to roaring dredrock, some drinking, others off in the shadows as if standing watch. Most are female and most are attired like the four at the entrance. One of the few males Machiko spots sits with his back to a concrete column, the chain ringing the column attached to the manacle ringing his neck.