Note: This is an exerpt from the future novel I am going to write, to parallel a comic saga my little sister and I have created.




A newspaper scuttled down the sidewalk, pushed by the wind as it rattled through the duracrete canyons of the city. The lone page circled once at a corner, then was swept into a water filled gutter and carried away to where ever it was that such detritus collected. For blocks in either direction the streetlights had been cannibalized for parts or tapped into for added juice to the filthy apartments that huddled on both sides of the street. As a result, shadows were the rule rather than the exception. They lay thick along the gutter and the side alleys where detritus of the two-legged variety collected.

Some of these were bums, time release alcohol tabs taped to their necks or in some cases old fashioned glass bottles gripped tightly in their clawed, arthritic hands. They lay haphazardly in niches or leaned against the dubious support of the walls. They waited; most to be mugged again, several to recover from the last time. Some were those who did the mugging, stealing from the downtrodden anything that could possibly be sold to someone else. This night, among the trodden and the treaders, was one who was neither.

Large, expressive violet eyes peered out from between short, black strands of carefully tousled hair. Kitten, as she was known on the street, had the �little girl lost� look down pat, even in the black, tight-fitting, full-body shipsuit (of the type worn by deep-space freighter crews) and battered brown trench coat. The locals, however, were not fooled and left the professional �collector� strictly alone.

Her prey tonight? A burly silhouette wove slightly as it made its way down the sidewalk. A stray strobe of light from a third level window revealed a muscular flannel shirt stretched tight over an inebriated frame. Drunk. Idiot deserves what he gets wandering out on the streets like that.

Her expert gaze locked onto the man�s right arm. It was cybernetic. Heavy duty. Probably a construction worker out for a night of arm-wrestling. What approach to use? �Sir, I�m lost,� or maybe a young hooker? There was no such thing as underage hookers on this, the galaxy�s only prison planet. Or better yet, how about a good old . . .

�Hey, Baby.� He turned at the soft sound of her voice. She let her luminous eyes do the talking for her as she slid out of the shadows with a coquettish slink and let the trench fall open suggestively. His unfocused stare traveled down her young, but well developed body and back up again to stop well below the suit�s neckline, which hugged the top of her slender neck. Predictable. Men. Not that the shipsuit had been designed to leave anything to the imagination other than the exact coloration of the skin beneath.

�Is this a private party, or am I invited?� She let the words slip from her mouth like satin across velvet and gave him a smile with her hips.

�Hey, darlin�, the more the merrier.� The man managed to drape his left arm across her shoulders on the second try. �I know this place, ya see.� He stinks of Terran whiskey and plenty of pretzels. This is too easy.

She let him lead her along the duracrete walk and into a surprisingly empty alley. �Here we are, darlin�.� He crooned. She smiled wickedly as her hand slipped into her pocket for the loaded hypo kept there.

�I�ve got something special just for you, big boy.�

Ten minutes later, Kitten strode out of the alley. Alone. Almost. For company she had the man�s cybernetic arm draped across her shoulders as she hummed a satisfied little tune. The Fence will pay top dollar for this one. It�s practically new.

Cybernetic parts were quite valuable and as such there was a booming trade for them on the black market. The Fence personally used several of the top end parts brought to her as she was close to half machine herself. An accident when she was younger was the only explanation she gave to those she felt worthy of one. The woman had extensive contacts in this and many other cities where she could distribute her illicit goods.

Kitten smiled at the irony. The funny part of all this is that she�ll sell this one to replace the one someone down in Tarris stole and that one to replace this one. The young woman scanned the street, her eyes no longer liquid and doe like, but hard and wary. Life on the streets anywhere did that to you. Of course, it didn�t help that she�d been born in Caveat, the capitol city of a prison planet, to parents who had been born there and whose only crime was to be born to criminals who had met there.

When the council of Barons who called themselves the Central Empire had overthrown the galactic monarchy two dozen decades ago, give or take a couple of years, any egress from the planet had stopped. There ceased to be such a thing as parole or finishing one�s term of punishment. Once on, no one left, and all children born there were there to stay. The only exceptions were the CenEmp soldiers who only occasionally enforced the laws and kept the peace, and the CenEmp administrators who oversaw the whole process and ensured that some of the planet�s self-sufficiency made it�s way into their pockets.

Kitten and those like her rarely spared a thought to the administrators and amused themselves by ambushing or evading the soldiers. The girl knew the city layout better than the men who had originally planned it. She ducked through buildings and cut through alleys as she headed for her meeting with the Fence, already thinking of her reception when she arrived home. Jasper would be waiting for her and she�d have her commission from the Fence. With what they�d been saving up for the last few months they could afford to take a night off and go to The White Goddess, an expensive night club in the best part of town.

There was a thriving economy on the planet Charybdis, though a large part of it was admittedly illegal. The inhabitants, for the most part, didn�t much care about getting caught since they were already living on a prison planet. Those crimes that carried death and hard labor sentences were usually the ones to be avoided, though there were quite a few who were willing to run the risk. But there were grocery stores, clothing boutiques, night clubs, cyber cafes for the implant deficient, curio shops, gun shops that masqueraded as pawn shops, and machine repair warehouses in addition to net jockey workshops, bounty hunter enlistment agencies, information brokerages, drug labs, unionized and independent brothels and black market clearing houses.

The Barons that made up the ruling council of CenEmp knew better than to throw away any source of income. Labor on Charybdis tended to be cheap, easily replaceable and cared only rarely about the legality of the products they produced. This made it an ideal place for the government and several larger corporations to set up factories.

Sure, working in the factories was an honest enough living for those who sought such, but Kitten figured that as long as she was on a prison planet she might as well deserve it. Besides, selling cyber parts on the black market was much more lucrative than slaving all day making the latest Denebian fashions or synthleather purses. It kept her and Jasper in a nice medium sized apartment only seven blocks out of the center of the sprawling city and afforded them several of the nicer things in life that were available to them. They could put away everything Jasper brought home and save up to move to one of the few remaining countryside areas on the planet.

Kitten shook her head. Neither of them had yet reached their third decade, and already they were planning their retirement. Yeesh, next thing I know we�ll actually get married. I love Jasper, but I�m not sure that I�m ready for marriage. I don�t know if I could stop stealing things and settle down. If I could it would only be for him. Not that he�d ever asked me to give it up, but still. Only for him. Besides, who�d want to stop doing something that made the heart race and the blood pound? On top of that she had a generous amount of justified pride in her ability. She was the Fence�s best supplier. And speaking of the Fence.

Kitten slipped through an exceptionally narrow alley to a hidden warehouse transport dock. Standing up on the platform directing the traffic of people and cryptically marked boxes was the lean form of the Fence. If she had any other name it had long since disappeared into obscurity. Her cybernetic parts glinted under the powerful lights that bathed the scene with more illumination than that provided by a noon sun. The baleful red stare of her replacement eye followed every movement.

�Kitten,� the low alto voice called out. �Get your skinny butt over here and let me see what you have.�

The girl wove easily through the bustle and hopped up on the platform beside the Fence. She pulled the purloined arm out from under her trench coat and handed it over silently. The woman beside her ran an expert eye over the appendage before scanning it with the other.

�Not bad. In fact this is most fortuitous.� The Fence glanced speculatively at her favorite thief. �How you anticipate the market like this I don�t know, but you�ve done it again. I just got an order for one of these this morning.� A frown pulled at her lips briefly. �Either you have some mutant form of ESP or I have leak that I need to plug.�

�Why plug something that makes your business run so smoothly?� Kitten turned her big innocent looking eyes on her employer. �Hasn�t hurt you yet.�

�There�s always a first time, pet. And I�ve done as well as I have by avoiding those kinds of first times. I�ll give you 500 credits for it, plus a 50 credit bonus for expediency.�

�500?!� Kitten almost shouted, disbelief laced liberally through her voice. �That�ll go for an easy 1500 on the open market. I�d ask only for a measly 800.�

The Fence snorted in derision. �You forget my expenses. I have to ship it, find buyers, avoid or bribe the Enforcers. I couldn�t possibly give you more than 550 for it with a 75 credit bonus.�

�Ha, you told me you already have a buyer for it and if an order has been placed it means that speed is an important factor. You have it ready to ship in less than 27 hours, less than a day. That�ll make your client happy. It�ll surely be worth 750 to you.�

�575 with a 100 credit bonus for you. My final offer.�

�Done. Say �Hi� to Tobius for me next time you�re in Tarris.� Kitten accepted the credit slips she was handed and threw a smile over her shoulder before she hopped off the platform and moved back into the night.

Jogging at times to hurry her trip along, Kitten made her way rapidly toward the center of town, where things were much cleaner and the streets better patrolled by the CenEmp Enforcers. She circled around the central four square block area instead of cutting through it to avoid those selfsame CenEmp patrols. Wouldn�t do for her to be caught out with close to 700 credits on her. They�d lock her up on suspicion alone.

She ran her tenant card past the reader and pushed through the door to the foyer of the building. Taking the lift down to level 13S she began singing a popular song, her voice echoing off the titanium alloy interior. The doors shooshed open with only a token mechanical groan and she was swinging her way down the hall toward the apartment where Jasper waited for her, hopefully with dinner hot and ready to eat.

The door opened when presented with her palm and she stepped inside to be greeted not by her smiling partner, but by bedlam and his mutilated corpse. Her ragged cry was cut off half uttered as the door swished shut behind her. That sort of noise would attract unwanted attention.

The apartment was a mess. All the books and things had been pulled down off the shelves. Every cushion in the place had been slashed open and their contents strewn about the room. Only the long couch of all the furniture was still upright and it had been slewed around and now sat at an angle. Even the antique, glass topped coffee table had been smashed, and sprawled among its broken shards, that had obviously been used to wreak havoc on more than just his circulatory system, lay the body of her lover.

Kitten submerged her rage and grief, pulling up her hardened mask as she moved from room to room. At a glance she could see that there were a dozen items unaccounted for that would bring a tidy sum from any good fence or smuggler. The destruction seemed wanton and she had a hard time trying to make sense of what she saw. This was outside her ken. She needed a professional to help her make sense of this and to set things right. She needed a Hunter.

Not touching a thing, she moved back out of the apartment and locked the door behind her. Out on the street she ran in the opposite direction from the city center, headed toward the darker streets and the people who inhabited them. She grabbed the first kid she saw that was younger than twelve.

�I need to see Whisper. I need a Hunter, the best!�

The young boy blinked once. �Keep moving. He�ll find you.� He slipped out of her grasp and moved immediately down the nearest alley and disappeared. His boss would hear her message very soon.

Kitten wandered aimlessly along the streets, paying little heed to her surroundings. Jasper was dead. Nothing could bring him back, her mother�s death had taught her that much. No, finding his killer and wasting the dude would not fill the sudden void in her life, but it would certainly make her feel better.

A tousled blond head poked out of an alley across the street and hissed at her. �Yo, Alley Kat, lookin� fo� me?� Kitten glanced at the lightening sky and crossed the street to meet with the young man, anxious to get this done before the sun came up and the streets became flooded with humanity in its various forms.

�Hey, Whisper, sorry I haven�t any of those cream filled cakes you like, but I�m in a bit of a hurry.� In addition to having a strange fondness for chemically created sweets, Whisper ran the city�s underground, at least the part of it that had not been alive for more than a decade and a half. He was an information broker and his collectors tended to run a narrow gamut of ages from five to fifteen, most of them normal humans. If anyone could find out anything, it was Whisper, or so he claimed, repeatedly. Kitten knew that he kept all the information neatly stored away in a cybernetic memory implant. Everything that he heard from his gatherers could be recalled at an instant�s notice, and usually commanded a large price.

�A Hunter, Kat? That�s serious business. They tend to be pricey.� Shrewd, guileless blue eyes raked her up and down. �I�d say you hadn�t been home yet. You�re still in your �collection� clothes. What gives?�

�It�s Jasper. He .., I found ..,� Kitten gulped once and fought for her control. Finding it she gazed steadily down at the diminutive street boss. �He�s rather messily dead. I�ll pay what it takes, Whisper. Who do you recommend?�

�Ok,� The blond head nodded slowly and Kitten imagined that she could actually hear the electronic buzz of his implant as it searched its memory using the criteria she�d given. She only imagined it because for this one Whisper didn�t need it. �If that�s the way it is, I recommend Shyla. She�s good, maybe the best, for all that she�s a little unstable sometimes. Bringing in the murderer of a loved one would be right up her alley. When you asked for the best I took a chance and sent her a message. She�ll be here momentarily.� Those limpid blue eyes blinked with a sudden suspicious moisture. �I liked Jasper. This one�s on me, Kat, all of it.� With that the nine-year-old ducked back down the alley and vanished.

Just as Whisper had said, Kitten�s wait was not long before a dark figure approached out of the gathering dawn. The woman�s royal purple hair stood out starkly from her alabaster skin and even this early in the morning, with the sun not even a quarter of the way over the horizon, half of her face was obscured by dark, wrap around sunglasses. She wore greys and blacks with a laser rifle slung over one shoulder and a pistol jammed into the waistband of her synthleather pants.

�Kitten?� The voice was the melodious purr associated with the demihuman offshoot known as Elves, one of the only survivors of the orgy of genetic research that had swept the galaxy five centuries ago.

�That�s me.�

�Give me the run down and I�ll let you know what it�s going to run you.�

Quickly and concisely Kitten related what she had seen in the apartment. The woman listened quietly, her whole body relaxed and still. When the recitation ended the purple head nodded.

�Whisper was right. This is my kind of job.� A wicked grin flashed in the rosy, dawn light. �Let me see the scene and then clean it up or report it to the Enforcers, whatever you want, but don�t mention me.� Shyla glanced over her shoulder at a child hunched against a wall just up the street and jerked a thumbs up at him. When the Hunter�s head turned, Kitten caught a tell-tale flash of cybernetics behind the woman�s right ear. She didn�t traffic much in that sort of hardware, but she could tell it was top of the line. The glimpse she�d gotten convinced her that this was no ordinary Hunter, but a net jockey who moonlighted as one. No wonder she wanted to stay away from the Enforcers. Surfing was ok, but actually working the net was very illegal if you weren�t employed by CenEmp.

Kitten waited just inside the door while her Hunter prowled through the various rooms, minutely examining everything. She fired questions at Kitten occasionally as she paused here and there. Kitten gave her a quick list of the missing objects when prompted to do so.

�I�ll have Whisper keep an eye out for any of those things. Let me show you what I�ve got so far.� A hand waved at the door and the room in wide, vague gestures. �Your locking system is good, but not the best. Easy enough to cause a sensor overload and force it open. Dude knew what to take and what not to and searched most of the likely hiding places for spare cash. The destruction makes me think that he might have been hopped up on something, Daze or Spaz or even Magic. Fuzzed, moldy or charmed, doesn�t really matter which, he got violent when your boyfriend surprised him.� The hand fanned the air in the general direction of a heavy lamp of lava rock that lay on the floor. �Nailed him good a couple of times with the lamp and when he crashed through the table used to shards to vent the rest of the adrenaline rush. Your Jasper wasn�t quite dead by that point, that�s why there�s blood all over the place from the cuts and slashes. He wasn�t so gone that he failed to reset the lock on his way out. I�d say a thief turned junky who was in desperate need of a fix. I know where to start looking now, but don�t hold your breath. It might be a day or so before I track him down.�

�How much do I owe you?�

�Whisper told you. This one�s a favor.� The blank stare of the glasses turned on Kitten. �You wanna do it yourself, watch or be notified after the fact?�

The cyber thief�s voice was soft, but there was a hint of steel underneath. �I�ll watch. I want to see him die.�

That afternoon Kitten called in a few favors and had the room cleaned up. Her lover�s body was dumped in a dark alley twelve blocks out where it would barely rate a second glance. With the saved up credits she replaced all the furniture in the apartment then picked up her security deposit and vacated the premises. Too many memories remained for her to stay, and her Hunter would be able to find her where ever she went if she made sure a street kid or two saw her moving.

*******

Two nights later Kitten was suiting up for her first night out since the murder. The dingy hovel she had rented out, ten blocks out of the center of town, still looked untenanted with its bare, ugly walls, puke green linoleum and slumped furniture. All her things were still packed in small boxes littered about the rooms. Anyone who visited would have been hard pressed to determine if she was moving in or out.

Kitten stood staring at her reflection in the cracked mirror in the bathroom. Her hair was tousled to perfection and the subtle make-up made her look younger than she was. She was physically ready. But Jasper wasn�t there to wrap his arms around her waist. She closed her eyes and could almost hear him murmuring in her ear. �Get a good one, Lover. And stay safe.� A phantom kiss brushed her cheek. A slow hand was reaching up to stroke the spot when a knock sounded at the door.

�Get a move on, girl.� Shyla had indeed known where she�d moved to.

Kitten jerked the door open and followed the Hunter as she moved immediately away. �What happened?�

�Whisper heard as soon as some of your stuff surfaced, gave me a good lead to work from. Dude�s a punk from one of the gangs on the fringes. Learned enough from his friends to be a good thief, but he�s always charmed out on Magic. Makes �im unstable.� The Elf�s eyes were acute enough that even the ever present sunglasses didn�t hamper her night vision as she navigated unerringly through the streets and alleys. �He�s meeting a small time smuggler to unload the rest of your stuff. Whisper put the word out, so everyone important knows what happened. The Fence took a shot at the guy when she saw him, she always did have a hot temper and you�re one of her best suppliers. Now your stuff is too hot to try and sell here in Caveat. Whisper got me the meeting place, but we�ve got to hurry if we�re gonna catch him before he panics and leaves town, preferably before his meeting with the smuggler . I don�t want any more witnesses than absolutely necessary.� The glasses turned Kitten�s way after a short pause. �I�ll perch you where you�ll have a good view but�ll be out of any line of fire.�

Kitten�s curt nod caused her hair to bob. �Good enough.�

The meeting place was seventeen blocks out of town center, not far from the fringes where patrols were close to non-existent. It was good if you want to avoid the Enforcers, but you ran the risk of getting mugged, stuck up, or outright killed before you got a half block away.

Shyla glanced around the corner to size up the place where it would all go down. Her right hand lanced out to point directly at a drainpipe running down the side of a building without looking back at her client or the pipe. �Shimmy up that pipe to the ledge. There�s a cornice in the alley that should give you plenty of cover and a clear view of everything.�

Kitten didn�t question the woman�s knowledge, but instantly began her climb up the outside of the building. It�s all for you Jasper, she thought. It�s all for you and tonight it will be done. Everything was just as her Hunter had described. Kitten, once in place, had a bird�s eye view of everything in the alley and part of the street beyond. She watched as Shyla moved deeper into the alley and hid herself behind a pile of refuse after unslinging her laser rifle. Then all was silent.

Kitten jumped involuntarily when a footstep sounded out on the street. Here he came. Around the corner, pulling a grav sled piled with the things pillaged from her home, walked the person who had changed everything she had been comfortable with. He glanced around like he was expecting to be met and called out softly. Grabbing the opportunity the Hunter below stood up and called back. The voices were too indistinct for her to make out what was being said, but the punk moved farther into the alley, towing the sled behind.

Suddenly the laser rifle was up and pointed. The man shouted in panic, then in denial and was interrupted by the static sizzle of the rifle�s discharge. The Hunter stalked closer and checked the body before glancing up at where Kitten crouched hidden. �It�s over. If you hurry down here you can move your stuff or sell it to the smuggler coming.� An indifferent shrug lifted the woman�s shoulders briefly. �You know how to reach me if you need anything else.� Then she was gone, a dark shape fading into the darker night and Kitten was alone.

Back down in the alley, she stood over the smoking body of her lover�s murderer and felt nothing. The wind still rattled down the streets in the same way. The bums still huddled away from the light and the cold. There were still easy victims out there for her to steal from, but it was no longer the same and there was no going back.