Andrus dove through the uppers into the orgy of Planet Sin’s lowers. The thrusters adjusted his plunge left and right, weaving him through skyways and air traffic and the industrial infrastructure of this place that was half-casino/half-industrial wasteland.

“Where’s he at Foxtrot?” Andrus said.

“Sir, the tarrrrrrrrrrrget has just reached street level and is heading north,” the AI said into his helmet. “I’ve locked on to him and have dispatched Prrrrrrrrrrobot Three to assist you. You should see the target on your visor.”

Andrus twisted past a powerline, then veered around a passing hovercraft. “Damn shame you couldn’t be so helpful when I was being kidnapped by the bounty huntress and her pack of dogs.”

“I apologize, sir. But as I...

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