The noises were of people working, the smells of food cooking. These were the people employed in the inner-city opulent hotels, the arena, the restaurants serving dishes from a dozen worlds. They were the backbone of Roma.
The Captain was getting closer to the part of town that was her goal according to her wrist-comp. The girl who had been at the arena was female, young, uneducated, and poor. She had recognized the signs of all that in her brief exchange of thoughts. She was a fringe inhabitant. The girl would live near the edge of civilization—on the fringe. All cities had them.
Perhaps it was not how much the empath could help her, but that the empath reminded her of her own youth—but without the mind-powers to send her wishes to sway people and their ideas. She hadn’t realized that she recognized and blocked empaths until she had been well into her late teens when a romantic encounter she hadn’t intended had occurred. The aggressor was her first empathic contact.
She paused at an outdoor café and ordered a tall, cool, popular drink with the younger crowd. She overpaid and asked, “Is it safe to explore this part of the city?”
Huge freckles covered the male’s face, hands, and bare arms. His sour demeanor told of a job he didn’t care for. “No.”
She pointed, “Does it get better down there?”
He seemed to relent enough to shake his head and mutter, “Worse.”
Captain Stone smiled her thanks. She knew the right direction. The girl wouldn’t be far. Maybe even close. More barkers called out as she strolled casually along, searching for an unknown person, but certain she would recognize her when she saw her. A sneak thief charged from her rear, intending to rip anything of hers free that he could grab on his mad dash.
She had expected such an encounter and heard him. The eyes of several locals shifted to watch the fun because they had seen it before. He shoved her as he ran past, hoping to make her fall so he could take what he wanted and sprint away. Captain Stone had ideas of her own. As he reached her, she jabbed out with an elbow that caught him in the stomach. He was still lying in the street moaning as she calmly walked on, ignoring the cheers and jeers from those nearby. Nobody liked thieves.
Trash littered the pavement and had mounded at the base of walls. People wore mended menial work-clothing, their hair was unkempt, and she drew attention with her flashy outfit. With a flick of her shoulders, the cape she wore opened in the front and revealed a tight vest adorned with the handles of seven knives, sheathed at different angles, unmatched, and each deadly. Displaying them was a warning the locals understood.
People moved to either side of her intended path, their eyes wary and fearful. Her eyes searched the alleys, makeshift roofs, and the lounging youths looking for their next meal in the form of a careless passerby.
The one she searched for would be thin, her eyes narrowed and assessing. The girl would be one of those living near where she now stood.
The buildings grew shabbier. Lean-tos beside ramshackle buildings became common. This was where she would locate her prey. What then?
The captain hadn’t thought that far ahead. She would play it by ear.
A commotion drew her attention. A Scan and a Molder wrestled in an alley, not unusual because the races hated each other. The Scan had an upper tentacle wrapped around the Molder’s throat, but the Molder held a knife against the thorax of the Scan. It was a stalemate.
The small crowd urged them to continue fighting, but each mutually relaxed their grips, stood upright, and backed away from the other defensively. They would be at it again in a day or two. The captain walked on.
There was no way for the gladiator to call out to the girl. She couldn’t inquire if anyone knew her because that would draw attention to the girl and perhaps bring harm. Besides, you don’t go into low town on any planet and ask questions about locals, not if you wished to live a few more days. Locals took care of their own.
She was finally in the right area of town—she could feel it. Any farther would be too great a distance to travel to the Colosseum on foot. Those with more money lived closer in. The Coliseum, gaming establishments, hotels, entertainment portals, and the spaceport were located at the open end of a funnel-shaped valley. She had traveled to the far narrow end.
Now, to find the girl.
She stood and observed, a slight smile of satisfaction on her green lips. It was only a matter of time.
CHAPTER THREE
Kat
A few of my friends still call me Kath, but I’d soon change that. In my mind, I hissed and spat like the fierce little orange creature I’d seen a matron carrying at the spaceport. Kat suited me better and I liked changing names to fit my moods.
I poured another drink and lifted it in mock salute even though it was only a weak beer made by a member of a furry race from a cold planet near Pixar, one of the original Disney Destination Colonies. How it’d ended up on Roma was probably an interesting story.
Bill lifted his mug in return. His wide toothy grin made him look more attractive than he had in weeks. We’d had a run of bad luck and it showed. Today was different.
We were a team. Always had been. Getting romantic would ruin that relationship no matter how handsome he’d somehow
