Time had no meaning for Sheba, but she knew that she had been waiting on her perch in the alley for long enough that the empty feeling in her belly had returned. She contemplated going on the hunt - finding some rodent that would satisfy the growing pangs of feline hunger. The thought of warm flesh and the taste of fresh blood set her salivary glands running. If she was to go now, then perhaps the Voice In Her Head would not notice.

"Sheba! Pay attention!"

It was the Voice In Her Head. Sheba yawned and stretched, then once again focussed her attention on the battered steel door at the end of the alley. The door had opened, and a silhouetted figure was emerging from it.

"Mrowr?"

"Let me check. Look at him, Sheba. Look."

Sheba did as the Voice In Her Head told her. For a moment her vision became sharper. A pattern of illuminated rectangles appeared around the silhouetted figure, sharpening its features.

"That's him, Sheba. You have to follow him - understand?"

Sheba stretched her limbs and arched her back. She had been immobile atop the steam pipes for long enough that her muscles had grown stiff; but there was a sensation as if fingers were being trailed along either side of her long spine. The stiffness faded.

"Good girl, Sheba. Off you go."

Sheba liked it when the Voice In Her Head praised her. She watched the figure move down the alley, oblivious to the observer above. Then she followed, a few metres behind and above her prey. She threaded herself between the stanchions that held the steam pipes in place, keeping to the patches of insulation and avoiding the exposed hot metal.

At the end of the alley was a major thoroughfare. Bright lights shone down from the buildings above, casting crazy shadows. Noise blared and echoed from a hundred speakers. Throngs of people hurried past, intent on whatever business they had. Sheba recoiled, shocked by the sudden transition. By the time she had recovered - barely a frantic heartbeat or two - she had lost track of her quarry.

"Mrowr."

"Alright, Sheba. Just look around. Let me do the rest," the Voice In Her Head said.

Sheba did as she was told, her eyes flicking rapidly across the crowd. Again, her vision grew sharper and rectangles of light appeared and disappeared around the figures. One of the rectangles flashed, grabbing her attention.

"There he is, Sheba. I've found him. You know what to do."

Once again, Sheba felt invisible fingers urging her onwards. She leapt down from the tangle of pipework, onto the awning of a nearby stall, then made her way down to street level. There, surrounded by a forest of legs and wheels, Sheba dodged her way through the multitudes. The glowing rectangle around her quarry made it easy for her to follow it. She made her way through the shadows; lurking until her prey was almost out of site, then dashing forwards to her next hiding place. Nobody paid attention to the orange cat, silently making its way through the maze of the city.

"Stop!"

There was a warning buzz in Sheba's ears, and she felt pressure against her forehead. She halted, waiting for the Voice In Her Head to tell her what to do next.

"Find somewhere out of sight, but where you can see him. Got that, girl?"

Sheba stared ahead, to where her prey was sitting at a neon-lit stall. It was conversing earnestly with another, still oblivious to the cat that had followed it here. Just on the other side of the street was a nearby vehicle, its belly a few inches above the surface of the street. That would be the perfect hiding place. Sheba knew she could wait there, watching unobserved until the Voice In Her Head wanted her again. She scurried towards the vehicle, then flattened herself so she could crawl into the darkness beneath. There, she would be warm and dry. All she had to of was watch and wait.

For a long time the Voice In Her Head was silent, except when it spoke perfunctorily to remind her to keep her eyes on her quarry. Sheba was diligent, observing the two as they talked and ate. Then, its business done, the one that Sheba had been following got up from its seat and turned to walk away. Sheba stretched and readied herself to continue her stalking. The Voice In Her Head has other ideas.

"Alright, Sheba. You've been a good girl. I've got everything I need. Time to come home. Dinner's waiting for you."

Dinner! The word brought memories of delicious food, savoury and satisfying. Sheba needed no further instructions. She wriggled out from under the vehicle and set off for home, her tail held flagpole-erect with pride and pleasure.

* * * * * * *

Did you know that there have been experiments with remote-controlled creatures? No. Seriously. Somebody came up with the concept of rats that could be used to explore disaster sites, looking for survivors. So - why not use cats for surveillance?

And hence this story for the T-K 'Animal Punk' issue.