Prologue

Midas. Area 9. Ceres.

The slums. Within reach of the huge pleasure town of Midas, but not part of it. A ghost city nestled within the endless blissful quarters, though not found on any official map. Despised by the good citizens of Midas, held in contempt and derision, its existence was never mentioned except with scornful laughter.

The Tanagura government that ruled the planetary system of Amoy did not issue official ID cards to anyone who dwelt in the slums. That alone was enough to consign them to the shadows—to permanent estrangement and neglect.

Which was why, unlike those who lived in Midas, they were not constrained by the rigid class system known as "Zein."

No slum-dweller celebrated that privilege. The freedom of the slums was no different from the freedom of a caged bird—with no place to flee and no place to escape the stifling oppression.

The unhinged brutality of overabundant youth birthed rack and ruin, which ultimately bred lethargy and lassitude. The warped, males-only demographic of the Colony, incapable of reproducing their own kind, festered in that permanent state.

"Mongrels," they denigrated themselves.

But one day inexorably followed the next. The mongrels asked nothing of why they were there or why they even existed. The rain fell on the just and the unjust alike. The high and the low. And so without debate, seeking no excuses, they swallowed their delight and anger, sorrow and pleasure, and accepted things as they stood.