I first conceived the character who would become Quinn Taylor back in 1990, when I was fifteen. Like most things we write as teenagers, the story was self-indulgent and embarassing, but unlike most of those adolescent fantasies, I never put Quinn completely behind me. I still think her story is worth telling, although she and it have evolved a great deal in fifteen years.
Just recently I started thinking about these old versions of the story and how they illustrated my growth as a writer. Since most writers won't admit to doing rough drafts, much less let anyone see them, I figure these have a lot of educational potential.
Curiously, as I was pulling samples I found I had done a major rewrite of this story every five years. There were smaller revisions in between, but the major retellings seemed to run on a five-year-cycle, and you can clearly see the progress over time.
Feel free to laugh: the first one is especially ludicrous. I love how the big bad crime lord is walking to the shipyards to pick up his clandestine employee!
The docking ports on the north side of Ariston were one of the highest social gathering points in the city, second only to various drug dens and the El Campo de Batalla, a bar on the other side of town. Every day people swarmed to the docks like ants to honey. Every hour dozens of ships landed and unloaded, and dozens more loaded up and lifted off. If a really observant person stood and watched, however, they might notice that the cargo coming in far outweighed the cargo leaving. The observant person might also notice that while a great many people came into Ariston, very very few ever left, unless they were in chains. With the crime rate in Ariston so high, the slave trade flourished.
The docks could be an amusing place to hang out, if you were bored and didn't mind risking the loss of body parts. The entire area crawled with druggies, gunrunners, and pickpockets. Street gangs, also, had divided up the area into turf sections, and any rival members who crossed the invisible lines seldom lasted very long. A day was considered wasted if there was not at least one fight before noon, and a couple of dead bodies to go with it.
This particular morning was no exception. The street punks were so absorbed in their own scwabbles[sic] that they paid no attention to the uptowner striding swiftly across the street. The man looked to be in his late forties, his hair dark with wings of gray at the sides. He was impeccably dressed, his suit white silk and perfectly tailored. His tie was straight and spotless, and a clean handkerchief was folded in his breast pocket. He walked quickly, with an impatient air about him, his eyes flicking back and forth, scanning the crowd as though he was looking for someone.
The man's name was Reece Aries, and he was, indeed, looking for someone. Reece was a drug smuggler, a gunrunner, and one of the richest and most powerful men on the planet. He had recently had a stroke of bad luck, however. One of his best agents had been found dead in his own house, his neck broken.
Some rival's work, everyone thought at first. But upon examination, it was discovered that his entire vertebral column and even his spinal cord were totally shattered, as though they had exploded. That was when the rumors had begun. Reece was not a man to make snap judgments, but he had only ever heard of one man with the ability to kill someone that way.
Following his suspicions, Reece had sent some of his men to investigate. Two of them had reported an unfamiliar E-class assault cruiser docked in one of the reserved spaces at the port. The other four had not been heard from since.
That was good enough for Reece to be convinced. The next day he put out an ad for a professional assassin. He had received an answer almost immediately, from a woman named Katherine Taylor, over in the Beta sector. She was coming into Ariston, she said, and she'd check up while she was there and contact him if she decided to take the job. She'd be there in three days, on the eight-thirty income.
So Reece had waited. On the day of her arrival, he got up at eight o'clock-which might have been the crack of dawn for Reece-and went to the docks to look for his new employee. For nearly twenty minutes he wandered aimlessly, questioning dockmasters from time to time, and not getting anywhere. He had gone from frustrated to annoyed and was on the verge of getting really irritated when he spotted a slim, dark figure leaning against a crate over by one of the lifts, less than a dozen yards away.
It was indeed a woman, rather on the small side, but with an air of extreme confidence about her: demonstrated in her casual stance, her languid movements and the cool way her gaze flickered over the crowds. She was dressed all in black, most of it leather, and her hair was pulled back into a thick dark braid. One booted foot was casually crossed over the other, the toe resting on the ground. Her pants were skin-tight, and the neck of her blouse lay open to a provocatively low point.
Reece simply stood there for a long moment, looking her over, and he liked what he saw. Has to be her, he thought. This may turn out to be the most satisfying business deal I've ever made. He straightened his tie, squared his shoulders, and strode briskly across the platform toward her.
"Miss Taylor?" he asked pleasantly as he drew near.
She turned her head and looked him over from top to toe in one long slow motion. Then she smiled lazily and held out her hand. "Reece Aries, I assume," she said. Her speech held a slight Terran accent, a touch of exotic that was at once alluring and repulsing. "I'm Katherine Taylor."
"Charmed, Kathy," Reece said, raising her hand to his lips.
With a seemingly effortless motion, she removed her hand from his grasp and returned it to her hip pocket. "Call me Kat," she said coolly. (Yes, you read that right!--TLA) It was not an invitation, it was an order. "While I'm on business, that it," she added, and gave him a brief glance from under her lashes that offered more than her professional services.
Reece was thrown off by her sudden change in manner. His eyes darted to hers, wondering if she was teasing him, but Kat swiftly turned her gaze away, and Reece frowned. Except for that brief glance, she had not yet looked him in the eye; strange behavior for someone making a business deal. Either she was not an honest person-which was to be expected in Reece's world-or there was something about her face that she did not want him to see. His curiosity aroused, Reece studied her countenance closely. "So you're taking the job, then?" he asked.
"I'm here, aren't I?" Kat replied.
"But your message said-"
"Never mind my message. If I didn't want the job I wouldn't have come. This planet is hardly a vacation hot spot, you know."
Reece blinked. "Well. Um... are you familiar with this area, and do you have a place to stay?"
"I usually put up with my client," Kat answered. "But if there's a problem I'm prepared to take care of myself. As far as being familiar with the area..." she paused, and a momentary shadow crossed her face. "I used to live here," she said finally. "I think I remember my way around. Do you have a place we can talk, and get things settled?"
"Sure thing," Reece said. "There's a room waiting for you back at my place. You can rest up and we can get down to brass tacks whenever you're ready."
Kat nodded once. She bent down and picked up a very chic black leather jacket and a large traveling bag underneath. "Lead on," she said.
Reece turned around and started off. Kat fell into step beside him. Reece looked down at her. "Isn't it a little risky to be following strangers home?"
"I can take care of myself," Kat said bluntly, shouldering her bag. "Besides, I don't have you pegged as a total slimeball. Just a partial one." She grinned. She had a trace of a dimple in her left cheek.
"Well, I have you pegged as being much too cute to be very dangerous," Reece said.
The twist in Kat's crooked grin grew even stronger. "There are plenty of men who've found that to be a fatal mistake," she said. "Mr. Aries-"
"Call me Reece."
"Reece, then," Kat said smoothly. "It would be in your best interests to stay as far away from me as possible. I'm known to bring Kat's luck in my world, which usually means I come out on top while everyone I come into contact with dies."
"Do you kill them?"
Kat turned and looked at him fully for the first time. Reece looked into her eyes and blinked, disbelief flooding into his face. Kat's eyes were brilliant green, and her pupils were vertical slits that contracted from the sun even as he watched.
Kat's eyelids half-lowered. "Not always," she answered.