The year is 200X.
The blazing sun has long since set and the hot rain subsided. Luminous storefront signs drench the wet streets in pink, blue, and turquoise. Your ears reverberate with the babel of haggling, gossip, laughter, and shouting in more than a dozen languages. An android jostles past you on the slidewalk and buzzes a muffled apology. Across the street, between the martial arts dojo and the huge animatronic T-rex, television sets stacked five high and six across flaunt the latest home arcade attractions in all their 16‑color splendor.
A couple of aerocars flutter overhead toward the docks, banking past a million-watt billboard advertising excitement beyond the stars for any pilots willing to brave those dodgy subspace carriers.
Abruptly your attention is drawn back to earth. A sudden flash of — electricity perhaps? — from a dim alley ahead. A moment later a dark shape emerges, human-like, matte black with glowing eyes and a sheathed katana. It strolls casually past you and you notice, sleeping across its shoulders, a white cat with an upside-down ramen cup on its head.
Welcome to Neon Harbor.
Contact Us:
Send a note to Ed Glaser, benevolent dictator for life of Neon Harbor.