The sun was threatening to show itself.

Gaia kept praying the night would last just a little longer. Somehow the days were worse than the nights. People usually complained that the opposite was true; after all, there must have been a thousand sad, lame, cheesy songs about "lonely nights." But Gaia found the sunny days so much more depressing. All those kids screaming and laughing in the playgrounds. What the hell made them so happy that they had to scream? Was it the melting black sludge that lined the sidewalks -- the last remnants of snow? Or the litter? The torn coffee cups and discarded syringes? The filth that seemed to ooze from every stinking corner of this city?

That was the problem with the days: You could see every miserable detail so clearly. Yet somehow the real garbage -- the human garbage -- managed to stay indoors.

Night was different, though. At night the scum of New York scurried out of their little holes and crevices and wrought havoc. Just like cockroaches. Turn out the lights, and they all came out to party. Turn the lights back on, and they all vanished. Judging from the deep blue of the predawn sky, Gaia had only another half hour or so before the sun came out and the scum exodus began. She still hadn't cracked any heads.

As long as there were psychos and sickos to pummel, Gaia had a hobby to occupy the meaningless and seemingly endless hours of solitude. Sleep had become a nonissue. Sleep was for the weak. Actually, she had simply been incapable of sleeping for the last few nights (four, five, six?). Which was why she was roaming Avenue D and Ninth Street at five-thirty in the morning again. Looking to kick the asses of the bad guys.

Alphabet City seemed to be mapped out specifically for crime. The farther down the alphabet you went, the more crime you found. Avenue B was worse than Avenue A, Avenue C was worse than Avenue B, and so on. And after midnight... forget about it. You might as well wear a sign saying, "Sell me drugs or mug me, please." Perfect for Gaia. Question: What do you call a young blond girl, alone on Avenue D after midnight? Answer: Bait.

There had already been one attempt to mug her. One very lame attempt. A guy had pushed her into a dark alley, hoping to do God knows what. Gaia hadn't even had to engage the poor idiot in combat, though; after she'd disarmed him -- kicking the knife from his hands with a left jump kick -- he'd taken off into the shadows. But there was usually more action--

"Get back in the car, bitch!"

Gaia swung her head around.

Not twenty feet behind her, a pudgy, balding guy in one of those neo-mafia-style jogging suits had forced a woman in a tight red dress against the hood of a beat-up car. A flicker of adrenaline leaped through Gaia's body. Finally, she thought, unable to keep from smiling. It was about time.

"I don't think the date's over until I say it's over," the guy hissed.

"Stop it," the woman cried, desperately struggling to wriggle away from him. "You're drunk!"

Gaia could hear the plaintive note of fear in the woman's voice, wondering even as she broke into a sprint what it must be like to feel afraid... afraid of this ridiculously overbuffed oaf. Energy surged through her veins as she rocketed toward them. Now the guy was forcing himself on the woman, leaning into her and slobbering all over her with sloppy kisses.

"Stop it!" she shrieked, squirming. "Stop--"

"Shut up and stay still! You're just making it worse."

No, you are, Gaia retorted silently. She threw the full weight of her body against him, grabbing his shoulder with one hand, spinning, tearing him away from his victim.
"What the hell?" he shouted, eyes blazing. His gaze locked with Gaia's. For a moment he just gaped at her, breathing hard. Then he smiled.

"Cool," he muttered. "A threesome."

This poor man. Gaia almost smiled again. He was still living under the delusion that he had control over his life -- control over Gaia, control over this other woman. He still believed that he could force his will upon the world. Another hopeless sap, a sagging mountain of testosterone gone awry. Was the old cliché really true, that men were really all the same? Certainly the men in her life didn't rate much higher than Pudgy Jogging Suit here. Sure, they weren't brutal rapists. But they had other faults going for them. Unreliability. Dishonesty. Cruelty.

Kicking this guy's ass would be a pleasure. A way to take revenge upon all the slimeballs who made the world a more foul place, her father included. Yes, maybe this was her purpose in life: to teach the men of the world a lesson -- that they were all swine, each in their own unique fashion.

Gaia's eyes flashed to the guy's victim. She was frozen, eyes wide, uncomprehending.

He took a step forward. "Come and get some, sweetheart," he whispered.

"Don't mind if I do," Gaia said. She grabbed his wrist, yanking him off balance. His eyes widened. Before he could react, she'd used the momentum of his fall against him, whirling and flipping him on his backside. All two hundred and fifty pounds of flesh slammed to the pavement, hitting with a smack.

"Shit!" he howled. "What the--"

A swift kick to the ribs silenced him. He writhed helplessly on the sidewalk, looking less like a human and more like some kind of animal, a giant seal, maybe. She kicked him again.

"Help!" he gasped.

Normally Gaia took the minimalist approach to a battle, just as her father had trained her. It was a lesson from the Go Rin No Sho: Strike only where and when necessary. Defend yourself, but do no more. Put an end to the struggle -- and your opponent will think twice before he attacks again. But tonight there was another feeling creeping up on her, an added and unexpected impulse... one that commanded her to increase the pain, even though the competition was a joke. She had just a little less control....

She stared down at him in a fighting stance. She barely noticed the woman in the red dress running away down the street. The second kick definitely wasn't called for. He was terrified now, struggling to crawl away from her on all fours. Why had she given him more than necessary? He was a total nonthreat. Kid stuff. Maybe it was her new philosophy? That nothing mattered at all -- that there was no sense to any of it, no point to any of it, so why not give them everything you've got? No mercy.

Maybe...

But the feeling ran deeper than that.

Gaia's legs began to go wobbly. It was expected, yet another phenomenon she did not understand -- utter exhaustion after a battle. Given the brief and effortless nature of this particular fight, however, Gaia was confident she could make it home without actually fainting. Yes. Already she could feel strength returning. She blinked a few times, then turned and strode down the street, back in the direction of her apartment. The sun finally began to creep up from behind the projects lining the East River -- marking the official end to another sleepless night of wandering and makeshift justice.