Chapter One

The rain had been falling for three days.

Not that anyone in Axiom particularly cared.

From the 187th floor of Residential Tower 86, the city stretched endlessly in every direction. Thousands of skyscrapers rose through the evening haze, their illuminated windows forming enormous columns of light against the darkened sky.

Between them, streams of airborne traffic moved along invisible lanes. Small labor drones darted between the towers, while enormous passenger transports drifted slowly overhead, their navigation lights blinking through the rain.

Somewhere in the distance, a holographic advertisement flickered against the side of a building.

“What can you do for your City? Vote Kallix for Axiom city chancellor!”

Nicolai wasn't paying attention to any of it.

He was hungry.

"Come on, come on" he muttered, tapping the side of a small container.

The thermal tap sprouting from his kitchen counter top emitted a soft chime.

"Water temperature stabilized. Ninety-eight degrees Celsius," the thermal tap announced.

"Yeah, thanks," Nico replied.

He slid a cup of instant noodles beneath the dispenser and watched steaming water fill it to the marked line.

The packaging advertised authentic Earth-style noodles, which Nico found amusing, considering they were manufactured here on Earth.

He folded the lid halfway closed and set the cup aside to cook.

Behind him, the HoloCast continued its evening broadcast.

"...and in planetary news, officials have confirmed that the recent disturbances in Axiom's lower transit sectors have been successfully contained. Residents are reminded that unauthorized gatherings remain prohibited in designated security zones," the news anchor reported.

Nico glanced toward the small holographic projection hovering above his kitchen counter.

A well-dressed news anchor smiled reassuringly.

"Authorities have emphasized that these measures are temporary and necessary to ensure the continued safety and prosperity of all citizens," the anchor continued.

"Sure they are," Nico muttered.

He wasn't particularly interested in politics.

He just wished they'd stop interrupting the music.

With a flick of his fingers, he dismissed the holographic news display, leaving only the faint sounds of the rain hitting his window quietly in the background.

His apartment wasn't large, but it was comfortable.

A narrow living area opened into a compact kitchen, with a bedroom tucked behind a sliding partition. And a sunken in living area, with a large window that stretched from floor to ceiling; and wall to wall. The furniture was mismatched, the lighting was warm, and a collection of old electronic devices occupied a shelf beside the window.

Most of them were obsolete.

One, a battered little music player with physical buttons and a scratched display, was practically ancient.

Nico liked it. As it made him think of how simple life must have been in those times.

He reached over, pressed a button, and waited.

A soft click.

Then music.

A warm, rolling bassline filled the apartment, accompanied by a melody that sounded almost impossibly old-fashioned.

Nico smiled faintly.

"That's better," Nico said softly.

Outside, a massive cargo vessel passed between two towers, briefly blocking the distant glow of the upper city.

Its engines produced a low vibration that rattled the glass.

Nico checked the time.

9:47 p.m.

“Shit…” Nico muttered.

He was going to be late.

Again..

He grabbed his noodles, took a bite, immediately burned his tongue, and stood motionless for a moment.

"Fantastic," he said.

The HoloCast chimed.

"Good evening, Nico. Your scheduled shift begins in forty-five minutes. Current transit conditions suggest a travel time of thirty-five minutes,” the HoloCast announced.

Nico stared at the ceiling.

"Then why didn't you tell me ten minutes ago?" Nico asked.

"You requested that I stop reminding you so frequently about your work schedule," the HoloCast replied.

“Right…” Nico said.

A pause.

"Would you like to update schedule reminders?" the HoloCast asked.

"No," Nico replied.

"Understood," the HoloCast said.

Nico sighed and took another bite of noodles.

Somewhere beyond his window, the city of Axiom continued its endless, restless movement.

Millions of people were heading home.

Millions more were heading out.

And Nicolai, thirty years old, bartender, occasional collector of obsolete electronics, and chronic procrastinator, was about to begin another perfectly ordinary night.

At least, that's what he thought.

Nico scraped the last few noodles from the bottom of the cup and tossed it into the disposal slot beneath his counter. A soft mechanical whir followed.

“Organic waste processed,” announced the apartment.

“Congratulations,” Nico replied.

“Thank you, Nico,” the apartment answered.

He shook his head. The old music was still playing beside the window. He crossed the room, stopped it, and watched the scratched little display go dark.

He pulled on a jacket, checked himself in the mirror beside the door, and ran a hand through his hair. ‘Good enough.’ Nico thought

“Current time?” Nico asked.

“Twenty-one fifty-five,” the apartment replied.

“Wonderful,” Nico said.

“Your scheduled shift begins in thirty minutes” the apartment reminded him.

“Didn’t ask,” Nico replied.

He picked up an old-fashioned metal ignition token from the counter. His friends liked to point out that nobody needed a physical key anymore, but Nico liked the weight of it in his pocket.

“Apartment security?” Nico asked.

“Armed upon departure. Have a pleasant evening, Nico,” the apartment answered.

“Don’t wait up,” Nico said.

“I do not sleep,” the apartment replied.

“Yeah, neither do I,” Nico muttered.

The corridor outside smelled faintly of cleaning solvent and somebody’s dinner.

Near the elevators, Mrs. Venn was arguing with a delivery drone.

“I ordered the blue ones!” Mrs. Venn exclaimed.

“Your order specifies violet, ma’am,” the delivery drone replied.

“Violet is blue!” Mrs. Venn insisted.

“Violet and blue are distinct spectral classifications,” the drone explained.

“Oh, shut up,” Mrs. Venn snapped.

Nico smiled. “Evening, Mrs. Venn.”

“Nico! Tell this stupid thing violet is blue,” Mrs. Venn said.

He glanced at the package. “Looks pretty blue to me.”

“Thank you!” Mrs. Venn said triumphantly.

“Your statement is factually inaccurate,” the drone informed him.

“Yeah, I get that a lot,” Nico replied.

He left them to it and called the mag-lift to vehicle platform 162. Most people in Axiom didn’t own vehicles. With automated shuttles and aerial transit available practically everywhere, there was little reason to. Nico understood the logic. He simply preferred his own ride.

Inside the mag-lift, a tall, green-gray passenger in a charcoal suit studied a wrist display. Its slender sensory appendages twitched.

“Rain again,” Nico offered.

“Yes,” the alien replied.

“Supposed to clear tomorrow,” Nico said.

“That is what they said yesterday,” the alien observed.

“Fair point,” Nico conceded.

Platform 162 opened onto the night beneath a wide canopy. The city spread out beyond the safety barrier, layers of towers and traffic vanishing into rain.

Between two immaculate private transports sat Nico’s bike.

It was a deep, weathered red, long and low, with a sporty silhouette and compact propulsion assemblies where a much older motorcycle would have carried wheels. One side panel was a slightly different shade. The left stabilizer housing had a dent. Faded anime decals clung to the bodywork, including one character whose series had been old long before Nico was born.

The bike had belonged to his family before it was his. He hadn’t decided to replace it, no matter how often somebody suggested it.

“Hey, old girl,” Nico murmured to the bike.

He inserted the ignition token. The bike clicked, hummed, then went silent.

“Don’t,” Nico warned.

On the second try, blue light flickered beneath the frame and the engine came alive.

“There she is,” Nico said.

Nico opened the compartment beneath the saddle and took out his helmet. Its black shell carried a worn red stripe, but the full-face visor was spotless. He slipped it on.

“Atmospheric conditions: moderate rainfall,” the helmet advised. “Visibility reduced. Autonomous navigation recommended.”

“Not happening,” Nico replied.

He tapped the side of the helmet. The visor darkened against the glare, and a slim navigation line appeared along its lower edge.

“Destination?” asked the bike.

“Work,” Nico answered.

The route appeared. He selected manual control, eased toward the departure lane, and waited for the green signal.

Then he twisted the throttle, and launched into the cold wet night, glittered with the light of the city.

Wind pressed against his jacket. Rain scattered across his visor and slid away under its protective field.

Residential towers climbed into the clouds on either side. A crowded shuttle passed, its passengers lit by personal displays. Farther on, a gigantic advertisement smiled down from a building façade, promising a brighter future beneath the insignia of the planetary government.

Nico paid it little attention. He was watching traffic.

A delivery craft merged abruptly in front of him.

“Seriously?” Nico muttered.

He guided the bike around it, earning a red warning flash from its automated system.

“Yeah, yeah,” Nico said.

The traffic lane curved downward through a canyon of buildings. Pedestrian bridges crossed between towers; restaurants and markets occupied suspended terraces. Humans, androids, and aliens filled the walkways. An overhead tram rattled past, and music from a street performer drifted into the traffic stream for a few seconds.

‘Not bad,’ Nico thought. He’d look up the artist later.

Ahead, the entertainment district glowed through the rain. It was Friday night, and the city was heading out.

Nico checked the time and urged the red bike onward. For him, the impossible skyline was simply the way to work.

The nightclub’s commercial tower had a vast parking structure built into its lower levels. Autonomous shuttles swept through the upper arrival lanes, depositing Friday-night passengers beneath bright canopies. Private vehicles entered separately, several levels below.

Nico followed the glowing markers into the covered structure. The sudden absence of wind was almost startling. His engine echoed beneath the high ceiling as he passed rows of gleaming transports.

With only 5 minutes to spare Nico quickly found a spot near the elevators and brought the bike gently down onto its supports.

“Beautiful landing,” Nico told himself.

He removed his helmet, stowed it beneath the saddle, and patted the faded red side panel. An old anime character stared back at him.

“Don’t get into trouble,” Nico told the bike.

The transport level was crowded with people heading upstairs: groups in shimmering evening clothes, suited professionals still talking business, tired service workers just starting their weekends, and visitors whose species Nico couldn’t have named even if he tried.

Friday night. Everybody had somewhere to be.

He stepped into a mag-lift with a handful of other passengers. As it climbed, he felt a distant pulse of bass through the floor.

The doors opened onto a wide entrance concourse. Beyond the glass partitions, the club’s vaulted interior rose several stories high. Enormous windows framed Axiom’s rain-lit skyline. Suspended walkways linked upper lounges above a packed dance floor, and colored light moved across the arches overhead.

The place was sophisticated, expensive-looking, and already gloriously chaotic.

Nico glanced at the time.

10:28.

Two minutes early.

Practically heroic.

He turned away from the guest entrance and headed down the staff corridor.

The staff corridor was quieter than the concourse, but only just. Bass traveled through the walls in a steady pulse, accompanied by the occasional clatter of service carts. Nico passed the lockers, hung up his jacket, and stepped into the narrow staff mag-lift.

The doors were polished enough to give him a decent reflection.

At thirty years old Nicolai wasn't hard on the eyes. But he wasn't the sort of man who turned every head in a room, either. His jet-black hair had a stubborn habit of falling into disarray regardless of how carefully he styled it, and faint dark circles beneath his eyes suggested a long-standing disagreement with a sensible bedtime. He was usually clean-shaven, though tonight there was the slightest shadow along his jaw.

He pushed a strand of hair into place. It fell back immediately.

“Good enough,” Nico muttered.

The mag-lift opened onto a service passage behind the main bar.

The club was already heaving. Through the gap in the doorway he could see a Friday-night crowd moving beneath the immense vaulted ceiling, colored light sweeping across the upper balconies. Beyond the towering windows, Axiom glittered in the rain.

Nico stepped behind the bar.

“Evening,” Nico called.

“You're late,” Dex replied.

Dex was halfway through making a cocktail, his articulated metal fingers working with effortless precision. He was unmistakably an android: exposed mechanical joints, overlapping face panels, and bright optical lenses that somehow managed to convey more attitude than most human faces.

Nico checked the time. “Actually, I'm two minutes early.”

Dex finished the drink and slid it across the counter.

“Early is a time, not an excuse,” Dex said.

“You're impossible,” Nico replied.

“And yet employable,” Dex answered.

Nico shook his head, smiling as he reached beneath the counter for a clean glass.

“You're a real inspiration, you know that?” Nico said.

“I've been told,” Dex replied.

“Really? By who?” Nico asked.

“Me,” Dex said.

Nico laughed.

He'd barely finished rolling up his sleeves when someone called from the other end of the bar.

“Hey! Can we get some service over here?” a customer shouted.

“I got you!” Nico called.

Dex glanced toward the voice.

“Careful. That one's been waiting almost forty seconds… I think he’s beginning to deteriorate,” Dex warned.

“Tragic,” Nico replied.

“Thoughts and prayers,” Dex added.

Nico made his way down the bar.

A broad-shouldered man in an expensive silver jacket stood beside a much smaller alien whose translucent skin shimmered faintly beneath the overhead lights.

The man leaned forward.

“Finally!! Give me Two Vesper Suns,” the man in the silver jacket said.

Nico nodded.

“Sure thing. Standard or doubles?” Nico asked.

“Doubles,” the man replied.

The smaller alien raised three slender fingers.

“Actually, mine should be a single,” the smaller alien said.

The man turned.

“You said doubles,” the man objected.

“I said yours should be a double,” the smaller alien replied.

“Why?” the man asked.

“Because you're unpleasant when you're sober,” the smaller alien said.

Nico pressed his lips together.

He'd been back at work for approximately thirty seconds.

Already worth it.

“One double, one single,” he said.

He turned toward the illuminated shelves behind him.

Rows of bottles stood suspended in narrow magnetic cradles, their contents glowing in colors ranging from deep amber to something resembling liquid starlight.

He selected two.

The first poured a pale golden liquid that shimmered as it hit the glass. The second was a rich violet spirit that seemed almost reluctant to leave its bottle.

Nico added a small measure of ice to each drink, followed by a splash of citrus and a clear mixer that briefly produced a delicate cloud of silver bubbles.

He gave both glasses a quick stir.

Two thin rings of light appeared around their rims before fading.

“One double. One single,” Nico said as he set the glasses down.

He set the drinks down.

The smaller alien examined its glass.

“Beautiful,” the smaller alien said.

“Thanks,” Nico replied.

“I was speaking of the drink,” the alien clarified.

“Still counts,” Nico said.

The alien made a strange clicking sound.

Nico had learned long ago that this usually meant laughter.

Probably…

He moved on to the next customer. And then another.

Above the dance floor, a DJ played a track Nico recognized.

“Oh, this one's good,” Nico said.

Dex glanced toward the booth. “You've said that about the last four songs.”

“Because the last four were good,” Nico replied.

“An extraordinary coincidence,” Dex said.

Nico laughed and reached for another glass.

By eleven fifteen, Nico had lost count of how many drinks he'd made.

The bar had settled into its familiar rhythm. Orders came in. Glasses disappeared, and the DJ kept the crowd moving with a steady pulse of music.

Nico reached for a clean glass, but his attention drifted toward the windows.

The nightclub's vaulted ceiling rose nearly eighty feet above the dance floor, disappearing into a dim haze that hung throughout the enormous room. Thin beams of green and electric blue light swept through the atmosphere, occasionally illuminating the suspended walkways and crowded lounges overhead.

Beyond the dance floor, colossal floor-to-ceiling windows stretched almost the entire height of the club.

And beyond those windows was Axiom.

Hundreds of illuminated towers rose through the rain, their upper floors disappearing into low clouds. Streams of airborne traffic wound between the buildings, their navigation lights tracing ribbons of red and white through the darkness.

From this height, the mesmerizing city seemed to go on forever.

Nico had seen the view hundreds of times.

Somehow, it never got old.

He was still looking out at the city when a familiar voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Nicolai.”

Nico recognized the voice immediately.

Frank; Nico’s manager. While not unpleasant, Frank was the also not the most socially adept person either.

“That red heap of scrap metal downstairs you call transport” Frank started

“Heck of a way to say hello” Nico jabbed

“Is double parked Nico” Frank said, with with what now sounded like a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“What? There’s no way.” Nico answered feeling his cheeks go red with guilt

“Go move it.. ”

Frank waited until Nico looked him in all four eyes.

“Before the end of your shift, Now would be preferable” Frank said, “or I'll have the gravbike relocated at your expense.”

Nico opened his mouth, then closed it again.

“That's authoritarian,” Nico said.

“That's management,” Frank replied. He adjusted the cuffs of his midnight-blue suit. “And while I have you, you neglected to submit your waste report last night.”

Nico frowned. “I thought Dex—”

“I submitted mine,” Dex said from behind him. “Yours was blank.”

Nico rubbed the back of his neck. “Right. Okay, that's on me.”

Frank nodded. “See that it's completed before you clock out please. And please move the gravbike now. I'd rather not have CityWatch disturbing my club just to notify me of employee traffic violations…”

“Yeah, all right. I got you” Nico said.

Frank turned and made his way toward the upper lounges, stopping briefly to speak with a server.

Nico watched him go.

“He's getting soft,” Dex said.

“Terrifying, isn't it?” Nico replied.

Dex placed a clean glass on the counter. “You better go move that heap of scrap metal” he said jokingly

“Whatever” said Nico dejectedly

“Awww you know I love you” Dex replied

Nico untied his apron and hung it beneath the counter. “I’ll be back in five minutes.”

“I'll begin worrying at six” Dex replied.

Nico headed toward the staff corridor. He took the mag-lift down to the parking levels.

The doors opened onto a broad platform lined with illuminated parking bays. Autonomous shuttles sat motionless in their designated spaces, their navigation lights pulsing gently as they recharged. Beyond the open edges of the structure, rain drifted sideways through the night air.

Nico spotted his gravbike immediately. Unfortunately, Frank had been right. It was parked across two charging spaces.

He stopped in front of it. “Well, that's embarrassing,” Nico muttered.

He inserted the ignition token. The old engine began its startup sequence with a familiar low whine.

Movement farther down the parking level caught his attention.

A small CityWatch shuttle had stopped near one of the service lifts. Three people stood beside it. Two wore dark gray uniforms bearing the insignia of Axiom's Municipal Security Division; CityWatch. The third was a young man in ordinary civilian clothing.

Nico wasn't particularly interested. Security officers were everywhere in Axiom. Most of the time, they were directing traffic or telling people not to park where they weren't supposed to.

Something Nico could apparently relate to.

He swung a leg over his gravbike.

“I already told you. I don't know where he went,” the young man said.

His voice carried across the quiet garage.

One of the officers said something Nico couldn't make out.

“Look I don’t even know who you’re talking about i just came out here for a smoke” the young man replied.

Nico glanced over. The officers weren't touching him. They weren't even standing particularly close. But something about the conversation felt uncomfortable.

The taller officer raised a small handheld device. A pale blue light passed briefly across the young man's face.

“Identification confirmed. Citizen is of Yellow status” the device announced.

The young man looked toward the service lift. For a moment, Nico thought he might run.

“Okay Okay so I have a few parking tickets to pay..” the man said

Nico expected action. Instead, the officer lowered the device.

“You're free to go,” the officer said.

“That's it?” the young man asked.

"That’s it, now go before I change my mind” the officer replied.

He looked between the two officers, then walked quickly toward the lifts

Nico watched him disappear. One of the officers glanced in his direction. Their eyes met.

Nico gave a small, awkward nod. The officer looked away.

“Okay,” Nico murmured. “I ain’t got time for any of that”

He guided the gravbike into a proper parking bay a short distance away, switched off the engine, and removed the ignition token.

As he started toward the elevator, he passed the spot where the CityWatch shuttle had been. It was already gone.

Nico checked the time. Eleven fifty-three

“Shit!” he exclaimed.

He was supposed to be back upstairs five minutes ago.

He quickened his pace.

The mag-lift arrived almost immediately. Nico stepped inside and watched the floor indicators climb.

For a moment, he thought about the young man in the parking structure.

‘I don't know where he went…’

It was an odd thing to overhear. Then again, people had strange conversations in Axiom every day. Nico had once served a man who spent twenty minutes explaining that his ex-wife had stolen his artificial liver.

He'd believed that one, too.

The elevator chimed. By the time Nico reached the staff corridor, he'd mostly forgotten about the encounter.

The music grew louder with every step. When he emerged onto the main floor, the DJ had settled into a warm, melodic groove. The crowd was still thick, and the enormous windows reflected flashes of blue and violet across the room.

Dex was working the center station. He looked up as Nico approached.

“Eleven minutes,” Dex said.

“What?” Nico asked.

“You were gone for eleven minutes.”

Nico glanced at the clock. “Bro, for real?”

“I was beginning to think you had finally decided to retire,” Dex replied.

“Very funny.”

“Did you move it?” Dex asked.

“Yes, Dad.” said Nico

“Hey anything that keeps Frank in his office is worth doing.” said Dex

Nico stepped behind the bar and reached for his apron. “Anything interesting happen?”

Dex stopped what he was doing. “Actually, yes.”

Something in his voice made Nico look over. “What?”

“You missed someone,” Dex said.

“Okay?” said Nico

“Someone rather particular.” Dex replied with a layer of coyness

Nico frowned. “Dex. c’mon man”

“She was here with her friends. Ordered her usual,” Dex said.

Nico stopped tying his apron.

Dex's optical lenses narrowed slightly. “Oh, there it is.”

“What?”

“That expression.”

“What expression?” Nico asked.

“The one you make whenever I mention her.”

Nico shook his head. “I don't make an expression.”

“No No of course not.” said Dex doing his best to extinguish any laughter he may have had

“What did she say?” Nico asked.

Dex tilted his head. “Hmm Interesting. Suddenly you're very curious.”

“Dex…”

“She asked where you were,” Dex said.

Nico looked at him. “She did?”

“Twice.-” said Dex

For a moment, Nico said nothing. Then he tried to sound casual.

“Well, what'd you tell her?”

“That you'd been sent downstairs for disciplinary reasons.”

Nico stared at him. “You didn't.”

“No,” Dex replied. “But I considered it.”

“You're an asshole Dex”

“I told her you were moving your gravbike.”

Nico resumed tying his apron. “Okay, so what else?”

Dex watched him. “She seemed disappointed.”

“Really??”

“Yes.”

“huh..”

A few seconds passed. Then Nico glanced toward the dance floor.

“She still here?” he asked.

Dex slowly turned his head. “I thought you weren't interested.”

“I'm just asking a question.”

“And I'm enjoying it.”

Nico shook his head. “You're exhausting.”

“She left about three minutes ago,” Dex said. “Her friends wanted to go somewhere quieter.”

Nico looked toward the entrance. “Oh.”

It was a small response, almost lost beneath the music. But Dex noticed. For once, he didn't make a joke.

“She said she'd probably be back tomorrow,” he added.

Nico glanced at him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Nico nodded. “Cool.”

Dex returned to preparing a drink. After a moment, he said, “You could always ask her out, you know.”

Nico gave a quiet laugh. “Yeah. Maybe.”

And that was all he said.