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electronic credit . Hell, I don’t even have an account.”
    “Everyone has an electronic account . You have one programmed from birth.”
    “You ’ re assuming my birth was recorded .”
    Enlightenment showed in his eyes . Sonya had all but informed him that she belong ed to th at expendable minority known as Nils . They had no existence . They were in no way protected .
    “As you were unprepared, I’ll examine your pet for free.”
    “Thank you .” He stiffly handed the dog to her, both arms outstretched and both shaking nearly as badly as the tiny dog .
    Her hands didn’t hesitate . From under the examination table , she pulled up an antique, silenced Berretta, pointing it at the man’s head and pulling the trigger . For all its age, the gun delivered a quiet pop that efficiently deposited his brains in a red mess across the back wall . She caught the dog as the corpse’s arms stopped receiving commands and flopped down with the rest of the body into a heap on the floor .
    The tiny dog yipped at her, more in surprise than any outrage at the man’s death . Sonya knew he wasn’t the dog’s master . The man didn’t know how to handle an animal and this one certainly didn’t belong to him . She tut- tutted to herself for the growing red puddle and the mess she’d need to clean up sometime later .
    Shifting the dog to the crook of her left arm, she opened h er victim’s jacket with her right and searched for some identification . The expired Private Enforcement license for one Auzel Small confirmed her suspicions . Someone wanted her out of the way . Knowing PEs, only the person who hired him would care about his disappearance . Her only concern involved the patron’s intent for finding her —either her clandestine work as a vet , or even more clandestine membership in the Green Action Militia.
    Sonya shrugged . It didn’t matter either way , except for any follow - on attempts . In the meantime she ’d inherited another dog and, she thought as she looked down at the body, more food for her animals.
    * * *
 
    Their Rose Quarter expedition s had started as a lark between himself and Carmine . They hobnobbed with the lower class, getting a vicarious thrill at being so close to the edge . Over the last year Tony’s outings had become more and more frequent, with or without h is companion . Tony fidgeted with a tiny scrap of infamous blue TriMet seat fabric that had come loose . He all but leapt from his seat as the lift-bus landed .
    The thickening of a rising fog, typical of the lower deck ghetto of Portland ’s Rose Q uarter , added a dingy feel to the air . In spite of this , Tony’s steps grew livelier as he walked out the TriMet doors . The slight wrinkle above his thick black eyebrows smoothed out as he relaxed .
    Throngs of the poor, wretched , and homeless scurried by outside heavily armored doors and the many open , gaping holes in the abandoned lowest levels of the city . G arishly signed tube hotels, with their two-point-five meter long plastic coffin - shaped sleeping quarters for those lucky few who could afford even their modest prices, provided an eerie , if erratic , illumination.
    A token girl, her State of Oregon prostitution tattoo prominently displayed over one shoulder, wriggled her barely clad and unnaturally firm breasts against Tony’s arm as he wound his way past her beat . Next to her , a man without a left leg hobbled on the other and a crutch bearing a filthy plastic sign claiming “Veteran . Praise God . Please help .” Tony didn’t even register either of them as individuals, but rather part of the b ackground one endured to attend the hottest clubs .
    The transition from barrio to city hot-spot came without a marked delineation , yet the line definitely existed . No mugger passed a certain crack in the sidewalk, no bum caged a drink outside any club, no welf paraded her children past that unseen barrier . Here an armored Metro cruiser glided slowly past, punctuating the