"What the hell," Brice muttered, stepping onto the pavement.
Cops in their graphene-reinforced uniforms waved batons, herding gawkers behind glistening force fields. Forensic drones buzzed overhead, their sensors painting the area in a kaleidoscope of data streams visible only to those with the right ocular implants.
A couple of hulking military mechs stomped by with their massive feet leaving small craters in the street. One swiveled its sensor array towards Brice, giving him a once-over before moving on.
"Sir," Jax called from the driver's seat, "your meeting with the—"