Proxy: An Avalon Novella by Mindee Arnett Page A

a spaceship.”
    “Whatever. Of course there is.”
    “I mean it, Liz.”
    She started to hum, ignoring him.
    “Liz—” Jeth began again, but he let it go. He could tell she was just teasing him. Or at least, he was pretty sure she was only teasing.
    Either way, it didn’t seem to matter as he climbed the steps to the passenger deck and toward his cabin. The job was done. As Jeth ran his hand along the wall of the corridor, as much caressing as communing with his ship, he felt the future drawing nearer than ever before. Soon Avalon would be his.
    And he and his crew would be free.

Excerpt from Avalon
    TURN THE PAGE TO READ THE FIRST CHAPTER
OF JETH’S FULL-LENGTH ADVENTURE
    AVALON

CHAPTER 01
    STEALING A SPACESHIP SHOULDN’T BE THIS EASY.
    Jeth Seagrave peered around the corner and counted the number of sentries standing at the docking bay terminal. There were two of them, both sporting the tan uniforms of local guards, with matching bored expressions.
    He slipped back before being spotted. Around him, Kordan Spaceport’s massive concourse, filled with restaurants, shops, and hotels, was mostly empty of people. Even in space, there was such a thing as nighttime.
    Jeth brushed back auburn hair from his forehead and gazed down at his companion, who stood leaning against the wall, one leg propped up, her head tilted back, and hands on her hips. Celeste smiled up at Jeth, her lips parting in a sensual gesture, an inviting smile. An outside observer would think she had only one thing on her mind. No one would guess these two, both just seventeen, were actually casing the place.
    Beside Celeste a large window looked out into open space, providing partial views of some of the ships moored at the docks beyond the terminal entrance. One of those ships was the Montrose , the cargo vessel they were here to steal.Celeste and Jeth were members of a gang of thieves known in criminal circles as the Malleus Shades, named in honor of their employer, the infamous crime lord Hammer Dafoe, and indicative of their uncanny ability to come and go like ghosts in ancient stories.
    “How many?” Celeste whispered, still smiling. Black hair framed her face, stopping short of her shoulders. Dark red lipstick exaggerated the paleness of her skin. The contrast accentuated her natural beauty, evident despite the digital prosthetics she wore. The prosthetics obscured Celeste’s features just enough to make her unrecognizable, even to the most sophisticated face-recognition programs. Jeth wore similar ones.
    Bracing a hand against the wall, Jeth leaned down as if going in for a kiss. Celeste was tall, but he still had half a head on her. Combined with the width of his muscular shoulders, he made her seem small. “Two,” he said against her ear. “Both locals. No ITA.”
    Celeste sighed, the sound of it containing a definite smirk. “Too easy.”
    Jeth nodded as he pretended to nuzzle her neck. Local security was always easier to deal with than the ITA.
    The lack of ITA presence didn’t surprise him. The Interstellar Transport Authority rarely bothered posting agents at dinky backwater spaceports like Kordan, with its low tax revenue. The ITA cared more about the bigger, wealthier spaceports, the kind that could afford to employ more than two guards to man the entrances in off-peak hours, whereeven in the middle of the night the shops and businesses teemed with travelers.
    The ITA didn’t actually govern the planets and spaceports that made up the United Planetary Confederation, but given the amount of power they wielded, they might as well have. They controlled all aspects of space travel, including the manufacture of the metatechnology that made it possible. For the most part, no one went anywhere in the universe without the ITA’s approval—and without paying their price to fly.
    Even though he knew he should be glad about how easy this job was turning out to be, Jeth couldn’t help but feel a stab of disappointment. Easy meant boring.