The Operator is just passing through. That’s what he tells the people of the polluted, rat-infested bottom levels of the city: just a man and his dog, Fenix, moving along from the dusty badlands en route to somewhere other than here. But in a world where the wealthy and important occupy the higher levels of the massive towers above the impenetrable smog, the dregs of society left to fend for themselves down below, why would someone choose this place? Why would someone choose to stay in a pool hall with no patrons beyond the deactivated androids who took a seat at the bar one day and never left? Why would someone let himself be pulled in so immediately by a man as dangerous as Bacas, the government enforcer who runs the district from within the Suerte casino? Soon the Operator is playing both sides of a gang war. He’s seeking out evidence against Bacas in abandoned railway tunnels occupied only by the deformed midliners. And whatever purpose brought him here—whatever addiction—it may well be more than one man and his dog can handle.
