Sparrow North - A day in 'Morrah

"Fuck it!" I slam my palm down on the power disk, shutting off the screen.

"Problem?" Durak called from the room next door.

"Fucking paperwork."

"Digiwork, mate."

"Yeah. No one says that."

Except you, I think. You fucking pedant . I flip him the bird through the wall between us and decide a walk might improve my mood. Not that it ever has. But it's the kind of thing you do.

I grab my badge, radio, and gun, and head out the door.

Port Gomorrah. The last bastion of freedom, as its leaders like to think of it.

I breathe in the sea air and cough as my lungs fill with salt, the aroma of dumplings, and the acrid undertones of city life. I put a stim-cig in my mouth and flip it on to take away the taste of ozone.

Miserable fucking city.

'Morrah, my old man had called it. A tower of four quarters, each on its own level, rising like a glowing, fattened cockroach out of the placid waters of the Maiden’s Shroud Sea. It takes sixteen hours to get here by scream-jet from the mainland. That’s how in the middle of the middle of fucking nowhere it is. It is also my home, for better or worse.

Mostly worse , I think, as I pass through the dumpling stands to find the lift to the witch quarter.

The Wild Place, my grandmother's coven calls the city. Odelia Jackson – that’s her maiden name – moved here from Nuwraith about six decades ago, drawn by whatever big witch mystic was in vogue at the time. I can’t tell you if she found enlightenment – mostly a lot of fucking and drugs I think – but she did at least find time to meet my grandad. And so the chain of events that brought me into this god-forsaken hole had been set in motion. Cunts. Still, I love them. Can’t say I feel the same for my mum and dad.

God knows why those cunts called me Sparrow. Least inspiring bird in the world. But that’s me. Sparrow North. Detective, Port Gomorrah Police Department, vice unit.

I step off the lift into the witch quarter, making a beeline for the food market. A few of the locals smile at me as I pass them, but most are too busy to pay much attention. The air on this level of the city tingles against my skin, saturated with arcane energy. From doorways and windows, flashes of unearthly light punctuate the fog that rolled in this morning. Some are the telltale vermillion of Hush being made, but I’m interested in not making arrests. Besides, it's legal to possess Hush now. Only its manufacture is forbidden. Go figure.

Kids today call the city PoGo, much to everyone else's disgust. I kinda like how jolly the name sounds. Juxtaposes nicely with the actual cesspool I know and resent. I mean, whatever name you use, it's still the same miserable tower crammed with too many people, too much desperation, and too few cops. Gomorrah positively attracts the worst of every species on earth. Every kind of sociopath, conman and pervert is here. Even the elves go bad in PoGo.

Fuck it, I can’t call it that and keep a straight face.

‘Morrah, then.

I stop at the entrance to the market and look around at the folk going about their lives. Witches, goblins, elves, an orc or two. Even some humans - many augmented in one way or another. There's good folks here. Folks wanting a better life away from the government and the corporations. Away from the prejudice of humankind. Folks with big ideas and crazy dreams. Folks with families and hope. Folks that need to be left alone by the fuckers that come to lie, cheat, murder, and generally ruin lives.

"What'll it be, guv?"

I peer through the soupy air to make eye contact with the goblin who's speaking to me. "You got anything other than fish soup today, Brizkit?"

He shrugs his narrow shoulders and points at the sign above his hole-in-the-wall shop: FISHSOOP .

"Figures. OK, with bread please."

He ladles a generous helping into a styrofoam cup and passes it over with a heel of bread. "Twenty." He says, holding out a grubby hand.

I smile, pull my phone out of my pocket and press my thumb to the glowing circle on its screen, authorising the transfer. Then I turn and make my way out towards the city wall. Too many smells and too much light here in the market for me.

I feel a bit better.