For all the years that had passed, little had changed in the slum. More buildings had collapsed, more damage had been done to the still standing structures, but nothing new hand been risen. If a city could die, then Ceres was. Most of the destitute citizens lived close packed in the least desecrated sections, but they were the middle aged – or would that be old aged by Ceres standards?<br/><br/>They pushed their male young out, to fend for themselves in the outskirts. The few females that existed rarely saw the light of day, a functioning cunt being the slum’s most precious commodity. Small wars were fought over each and every one. Their lives must be hell.<br/><br/>Katz did his best not to dwell on it as he made his way out to where the gangs scavenged and scraped, keeping his stance of confidence up as he prowled, sweeping his gaze back and forth through the shadows and through cracked windows. He saw dozens of youths, all dark and savage but none with quality enough to pass for furniture.<br/><br/>An hour passed, and he pressed a button in the metal cuff around his wrist, sending a call to his two men. “You both still alive?”<br/><br/>“Yes sir,” came the prompt responses, Sanya continuing with, “pickings are slim, boss, and we’re going to lose our way out soon.”<br/><br/>“We have other means back into Midas. Keep looking.”<br/><br/>He wondered how any of them would find a mongrel of<em>any</em>quality once it got truly dark, for few of the street lights glowed this far out. He’d have to go into stout dens in a few hours. Wonderful.<br/><br/>He pulled a cigarette from its packet and lit it, drawing a long, deep stream into his lungs, then went back to his task, hunting for a Riki substitute for the bastard of a Blondie.<br/>