Base

The rain fell. Glistening shards from the brackish heavens. The colony's artificial weather had been unpredictable for the last few weeks following a solar storm but few would have predicted rain.
Shit. Base Johnson blinked against the falling water particles. Had to be rain. Can't make this any easier, can they? he tugged the heavy black backpack higher up onto his shoulder and pulled the thin coat tighter about his shoulders. The coat and bag were 'water proof' but he'd rather limit the risk of water damage.
Unobtrusively, he joined the press on the covered walkway headed deeper into the city. The walkway was all sharp edges and gray. Concrete and the occasional bit of rusted steel. The rain muttered against the plexy-glass walls and ceiling. Urban. The surrounding buildings were equally function over fashion. Tall blocks of multicolored gray. Base paused briefly at an intersection, mentally blocking out the babble of people and occasional roar of a hov-car. In these smaller colonies hover cars were hardly a necessity, none-the-less, many people couldn't be bother for a little walking.
Founder's Square is at the corner of 10th and Epic... he glanced for a street sign, mentally marking his position on the map he had memorized last night. ...so five blocks north.
He began to step forward, still working the route in his mind. Approximately 4 centimeters after resuming locomotion, he halted, a teenage girl providing a solid blockade. She flew back, a tumbling mass of pink hair and metal rivets. Base caught himself against the plexy-concrete wall, dazed a moment. The girls assumed boy friend was immediately between them. Black 'leather' and covered in more steel than some spacecraft.
"What the fuck are you doin', man?" The younger man said, inches from Base's face. "You fuckin' blind or shit?" The teen's empty hands suddenly held a small knife, the blade hardly ten centimeters, still a knife. Base's face remained cold as the small blade poked threateningly into his chest. He hoped the kid would just back off. But something in the younger man's eyes begged for a fight, he wanted one. A couple passers-by stopped, leaning against the rail and watching discreetly. Most just looked the other way and walked by. No one tried to intervene.
The pink haired girl stood, slowly, she glanced angrily at Base, Shit. She wants blood as much the boy. Pink paused, her eyes alighting upon something at Base's side. Base squeezed slightly with his left bicep. Shit. The filmy material of his coat had been pushed to one side in the collision, the butt of his side-arm now peeked from between his arm and body. On most colonies, guns were prohibited to all but police.
"Bryce," said Pink trying to get the guy's attention, "Bryce, let's just go, it was an accident, really, my fault." The boy ignored her. "Bryce, please, let's just go... we... we're going to be late..." Pink's eyes never left the gun. "Bryce...please..."
The leather-studded boy, Bryce, violently noticed the gun. As quickly as the small knife had appeared, it was gone. His hands came up defensively, palms aimed at Base as he backed away. "Yo, sorry man, my bad... like... walk carefully and...shit." A glimmer of fear passed in the young man's eyes as Base pulled his coat back in place. The small knots of passers-by began to break up quickly. The girl pulled the boy around the corner at a near run, glancing back fearfully.
Base shook his head. That was bad. The president might delay his arrival if news of an armed man on the streets got out. He waited a few minutes before following after the two teens. The girls bright hair provided an easy beacon as he shadowed them through the packed streets and sky-ways. He almost lost them once as they ducked around a corner and into a club of sorts. After a few minutes he noticed the group of similarly dressed teens outside and decided to try his luck.
His eyes adjusted to the dim sparkling light just in time to see Pink and Bryce duck into a private 'dining' room with another metal studded youth. Invisibly, Base snaked his way across the dance floor and up onto the second floor catwalk. The heavy steel door of the private room was unlocked. He knocked it open and entered in a heartbeat.
Five pairs of eyes locked onto him as he burst in. Pink and Bryce sat close on a couch on one side of the massive table that dominated the small room. On the other side of the table sat the boy who had greeted them, flanked by two young women. The dim light was refracted uncountable times by the thousands of studs decorating the occupants' clothing.
"Who the fu-" started Bryce, "-oh shit."
"I told you one friend, Bryce. Who's the fuck head?" growled the other boy.
"He-" began Pink.
"Stop." Ordered Base. He pulled a small PDA looking object from a pocket. "You know what this is?" When all in the room gave him blank stares, he continued, "This is my insurance," he set it on the table edge nearest him. "Any of you leave the room before the timer runs out," he indicated the red numbered display showing a 20hour duration, "and it explodes. And I'm not talking Black Cats here, kiddo's." When they all continued with the blank stares after the last remark, Base muttered to himself, "Kids."
The boy flanked by the two girls was livid, "Do you know who my father is? After he finds out about this-", the boys threats overwhelmed by anger. "What if we have to... use the restroom or something." Squeaked one of the girls.
Base almost laughed at the question. "Not my problem." He pulled the door closed with a quiet click.