The Impact Services were just down the street, in the estuary where the nicer parts of town met the dubious. I never knew what the Impact Services were. All that was shown of their existence was a tattered sign reading,
with half of the phone number torn off underneath. The business was supposed to lie in the alleyway. It was supposed to. But I never saw such a business, only what looked to be a shack by the railroad tracks. Maybe it was never there, I supposed. Possibly, the sign was the only thing left of the old place. But I presume that if I am ever in need of them, the Impact Services were just down the street.