Phone appears and goes in Cam's jeans pocket, and he follows Maxi out.

They exit onto a ratty street where about one in three lights are working. There's a trash drift down the way, a line of rusty parked cars, a few panhandlers and a lot of people walking or standing around, and a forest of drones buzzing overhead. Maxi pauses at the exit for a bit, taking deep breaths.

"Urgh. I hate nannie shots on alcohol, even if being drunk was super not helping. Whatever. I'm going home now. Good luck with everything. And thanks again."

"You're welcome. Sorry for yelling at you as though you ought to have known not to draw on the floor. Can I find you again if something comes up in some way?"

"Yeah. Look for Maxi around the building with the Fat Burger stall in front of it, on 79th. My phone's KBID is-" She rattles off a number. "That's like, mesh networking, anyone could be listening in, by the way. But it'll work if you're closeish, usually. And... Reference nano shots and booze if you have to prove yourself to my sister?"

"Okay!" Cam writes all this down on his own device. "Thanks."

Off Maxi goes, affecting a confident poise and avoiding the worst of the trash, even if her stompy goth boots can handle it.

Cam walks more or less aimlessly down the street perpendicular, not especially avoiding the panhandlers.

A wild Old Man Panhandler appears.

"Spare change, stranger? You're new around here, I'll give you some tips."

"I don't carry change. Do you want a sandwich?"

"I certainly won't turn one down, at any rate."

Cam hands him a sandwich full of cold steak slices and vaguely Asian condiments in a ziploc bag.

"...Much appreciated. What brings you to Cinci anyway? If you like giving charity I can point the way there, if you like staying out of trouble too?"

"I like giving charity but don't care much about staying out of trouble."

"Most charities care a lot about staying out of trouble. Hard to rebuild a life when the Jags or Triads or Tower will just rip everything out of your hands again. There's a soup kitchen- Second right going that way, and then it's before the first right. Out of a little alley. Good folks. Another down by Henders Street- A church, still believing and doin' the Lord's work. Don't know the rest of the city. Going bigger, Saint Joe's, biggest hospital in the city in terms of bed numbers, they try their best despite all the bullshit."

"Where would I find Saint Joe's?"

"Just off Highway Six, exit twenty-three. Or if you don't have wheels, straight on that way to 46th street, then left a while. Giant red cross on the side of the building, can't miss it."

"Thanks! Enjoy your sandwich."

Cam walks off straight on that way, not because he doesn't have wheels but because he wants more ground-level observations and also wants to remain inconspicuous.

He can observe:

Lots of people. Lots and lots. Tired, stressed, frustrated for the most part. Just living their life, eating, chatting, playing games, working, shopping.

Drug use seems rampant, and the one time he sees an actual cop he pointedly ignores it.

A lot of people have these plastic spikes sticking out of their heads? Usually one, two at most. One person has more spikes than hair, and people give them glances as if they're a minor celebrity.

Tons of traffic. Way too much traffic, too many cars. Also drones, drones everywhere.

A line of 'stalls' in an alley, arrays of junk being haggled over by people with weathered faces.

A bunch of twelve to fifteen year olds with knives, claiming an entire alley as their own and chasing off anyone who tries to cross through.

Breaking glass, and a small gang of people in dark clothes actively stealing things out of the window they just smashed, everyone else avoiding them.

Hookers, both male and female, hanging out on corners. Drug trade on corners too, only tokenly concealed

GREEN DRAGON CONVENIENCE STORE! 24/7! FAST AND EASY! About 30 times.

Different gangs staking out shifting webs of claims- One dressing with dark slacks and jackets and openly carrying guns, the other full punk-style and favoring various melee weapons.

A Tower Group patrol walking leisurely down a street, four guys in black armor with assault rifles surrounding a full-on APC, tracked and armored with a cannon on top. Everyone stays well clear.

A ragtag construction crew loudly complaining that the city sure ain't gonna fix these potholes so we're doing it, throw in a tenner for the service anyone?

A good amount of misery, sickness, old and new injuries. Cyborgs walking around with both less and more extreme metal grafted to their bodies, usually kind of crudely.

And the buildings gradually get denser and taller, and there's 46th street.

Wow. This place is kind of hard up. Are the construction guys actually filling in the potholes? Enterprising of them.

They really are filling in the potholes! Not, like, super professionally or cleanly. But hot asphalt is going into holes.

Cool. He doesn't have any cash or he really might tip them.

Hospital?

It's a pretty obvious place! The ambulances will point the way- He sees a few once close. Giant concrete cube of a building, with a huge red cross on it. The whole first floor is a massive lobby/waiting room/triage area in front, with emergency rooms to the sides and back.

He will go looking for someone who looks like a general reception desk type rather than a nurse with better shit to do than entertain him.

There's a desk full'a orderlies efficiently sorting people!

"Hello! Do you take volunteers?"