As the flying taxi swoops past a building-sized electronic billboard, my robot driver flicks a switch. A screen bursts into life: Five high-pitched squeals in unnecessarily shiny costumes make a noise vaguely resembling music. The message is clear. I swipe my communicator against the console in the taxi and gasp at the questionable number of credits it takes for the ride. And the relentless pounding rain tries and fails to wash the criminal scum from the streets far below.  Read more...