<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #4040FF"><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;">Alice Green</span><br/><span style="font-size: 120%; line-height: 116%;">'The Huntress'</span></span></div><br/><div style="text-align: justify;">Alice shook her head when Peter said he would like to never have met her. Peter's words made her silent. For the first time in long years, Alice didn't have a joke or a witty remark. <br/><br/>Shaking her head, Alice went into her room and locked the door. The rest of the time up to their shift was spent sitting on her bed, not even moving a muscle. Her mind was really busy, though. It worked, pondered, calculated, while her eyes moved through the notes she had made. She would really like to see for herself. She wondered if there was someone in that planet who didn't do drugs. Maybe she could talk to him or her?<br/><br/>Alice sighed. She was sure <span style="font-style: italic">nobody</span> would talk to her. That was a pity. She had always been very practical, but at the same time, very personal. She felt the need to talk to people in order to form conclusions. Numbers and data were all right, but they lacked the intensity and insight of real flesh and blood people.<br/><br/>It was a few minutes before they were supposed to be out that Alice finally moved. She braided her hair to make work easier and started organizing the room for the moment when she would inevitably get there half dead. She then sat down again and waited for Petter, her dark brown eyes with a slightly tormented expression.</div>