Mike nodded, a small tight movement, holding up a hand to halt the pair — Miles and Obie — of Metatech enforcers with them. “I see him. You’re sure?” Zacharies reached out again, feeling — the demon roiled within the man, feeding on his hopes, coaxing life from his fears long left behind as a child — with his mind. “Yes. I’m sure.” “He could just be high.” “Trust me,” said Zacharies. “I don’t know what ‘high’ means, but he’s anything but… happy. He’s not happy.” “He looks happy to me.” Mike bent down over the man, turning him over. The man had drool from the corner of his lips leaving a green track down his jaw. “Disgusting, but happy.” Zacharies felt the flow of the people on the street around him, people going about their ordinary lives in this places of gods and machines. Laia’s Heaven is… broken. “There. Look.” He pointed at a small white tube, almost lost amongst the clutter and trash along the street.
