The Dark Lady (18 page)

“They are all killers,” I persisted, realizing that it was a breach of manners, but unable to stop myself.

“What's it to you?” demanded Peres. “You think she'd rather go off with a striped little monster like yourself?”

“There's no need for acrimony,” said Heath smoothly. “My associate has a point, Mr. Peres. Rather than forcing her to leave in the company of one or more cold-blooded killers, let us at least allow her the choice of coming with us.”

Peres stared at him for a long moment. “What do you want her for?” he asked suspiciously.

“Me?” repeated Heath, surprised. “I don't want her at all. It's a simple act of humanity. She's stranded here, you insist that she leave by the end of the day, and the only other people who might consent to take her are ruthless killers. We have room in our ship if she chooses to join us, and I can drop her off at any planet between here and Charlemagne. I doubt any of the bounty hunters have any intention of leaving the Inner Frontier, so at least I can get her a little closer to where she's going.”

“How do
you
know where she's going?” asked Peres. “Hell, she's out here, isn't she? Maybe she
likes
the Frontier.”

“She can always reject my offer,” replied Heath. “But at least I'll feel better for having made it.”

Peres paused. “What's your real interest in her?”

“Just what I told you.”

“But you wanted to see her even before the Kid showed up.”

“I don't find her any the less interesting just because he's dead,” said Heath. “And I still have to find out who gets Mallachi's money.”

“You sure the two of you aren't just planning to take her on some sort of perverted joyride across the Frontier?” asked Peres suspiciously.

“I can't imagine why that would concern you if it were true,” said Heath, “but the fact of the matter is that it's not. No man of breeding would take advantage of a woman in such a predicament. I am a gentleman; she is a lady in some distress. It's as simple as that.”

“There ain't ever been anything as simple as that,” responded Peres emphatically. “If you take her off and nobody ever sees her again, I'd have to carry that burden with me to the grave.”

And suddenly even
I
knew where the conversation was leading.

“I realize that would be a terribly heavy burden,” said Heath sympathetically.

“Damned right,” agreed Peres.

“What do you suppose it would take to lighten it?”

Peres smiled. “Another thousand ought to do it.”

“Seven hundred,” said Heath quickly.

“Eight.”

“Done,” said Heath.

“All right,” said Peres, suddenly businesslike. “How do you want to arrange it?”

“Some of the bounty hunters might take umbrage at the sight of Leonardo and me leading her off to my ship,” replied Heath. “Perhaps it might be better if you were to bring her to us there.”

“Do any of them have any reason to think she'd rather go with them?” asked Peres.

“Frankly, I have no idea,” answered Heath. “But I see no reason to put temptation in their path, so to speak. You're the mayor; you'll have much less difficulty taking her to the ship than we would.”

“And if she doesn't want to go?”

“You're kicking her off the planet, and she has no friends and no money,” said Heath. “Why
wouldn't
she want to go?”

“She's a strange woman. You never know with her.”

“Just tell her that she's got two choices: come with us or stay in jail.”

“But I don't
want
her in my jail,” protested Peres. “She's nothing but trouble— and damned near everyone she latches onto ends up dead.”

“Then convince her to leave Acheron with us.”

“All right,” said Peres, though his expression implied that he didn't think she'd agree.

“Look,” said Heath. “Would you rather
I
spoke to her?”

Peres shook his head. “She'll take one look at the alien, and then nothing could get her to go with you. I'll take care of it.”

“Fine,” said Heath. He glanced out the window and looked down the street toward the Kid's corpse, where four bounty hunters were arguing among themselves and gesticulating wildly. “As soon as they've settled their financial differences, we'll go directly to my ship.”

“I'll meet you there in half an hour,” said Peres, opening the door and walking up the ramp to the street.

“Well, Leonardo,” said Heath, smiling and rubbing his hands together, “we've got her!”

“It was the only civilized thing to do,” I agreed. “I could not countenance her being forced to leave in the company of killers.”

Heath chuckled. “In case it's escaped your attention, she
came
here after being in the company of a bounty hunter, and she then took up with an outlaw.”

“Nevertheless, these are terrible men,” I said with a shudder. “How can they kill like that?”

“You'd be surprised at what a man can do when there's money involved,” replied Heath. “And before you condemn them, don't forget that bounty hunters are the closest things that the Frontier worlds have to police.”

“But it was brutal, premeditated murder!”

“The Kid knew they were here. He didn't have to come.”

“Why did he?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“The Kid,” I said. “Why did he come back if he knew there were bounty hunters waiting for him? I do not understand his actions.”

“You heard Peres,” said Heath. “He came back for the woman.”

“But he must have known he would never live to rescue her,” I persisted. “Why did he willingly throw his life away?”

“Maybe he thought he could make it,” said Heath without much conviction.

“That is an unacceptable answer,” I replied. “I know he saw at least four of the bounty hunters; he had to know there were still more he could not see.”

Heath shrugged. “I really don't know, Leonardo. Men under pressure do strange things.”

“But he was not under pressure,” I pointed out. “He was safe out in the desert. He knew the mine tunnels so well that no one dared go after him.”

“But he thought the woman would be killed tomorrow night.”

“If he believed her plea for help, he must have known that he could not possibly save her. If he did not believe it, then he had no reason to come back.”

“True,” admitted Heath thoughtfully.

“Then what is the answer?”

“I don't know,” he said, checking the window to see if the bounty hunters had dispersed yet. “Maybe we'll get it from the Dark Lady.”

“Can I get you anything to drink?” asked Heath.

He had just put the ship on automatic pilot after leaving Acheron's atmosphere, and the three of us were sitting at a table in the galley, the one place in the tiny vessel that could accommodate all of us.

“Something hot, please,” said the Dark Lady.

Those were the first words she had uttered since Peres had delivered her, and I marveled at the musical quality of her voice. She seemed totally at ease, and her demeanor was still serene.

Heath brought her a cup of coffee.

“Thank you,” she said, holding it in both hands but not making any attempt to drink it.

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” he inquired.

She shook her head.

Heath seemed to be considering how to engage her in conversation. It was not so much that she seemed aloof, but rather that in her absolute tranquility she seemed to barely be in contact with the reality that surrounded her.

“That was a terrible ordeal you were forced to undergo back on Acheron,” he began awkwardly.

She continued warming her hands on the coffee cup and made no reply.

“We will do everything in our power to make you comfortable,” he continued. “Is there anything we can get for you— anything at all?”

She stared at him for a long moment, and though her face retained its serenity, I had the distinct impression that she was amused by his discomfort.

“You have questions to ask,” she said at last. “Ask them now.”

“What is your name?”

“You may call me Nekhbet.”

He grimaced. “It may take me some time to learn to pronounce it properly.”

“I have other names that are easier to pronounce.”

“Would one of them be Shareen d'Amato, Great Lady?” I asked.

I had thought my question would surprise her, but she merely turned and stared at me curiously.

“And Eresh-Kigal?” I continued.

“You are a very surprising alien,” she said with a hint of amusement.

“And I'm a very confused human,” said Heath. “Who are Shareen d'Amato and this Erash-whatever?”

“They are just names,” she replied.

“Yours?” asked Heath.

She nodded.

“What's your real name?” he asked.

“Ask your friend,” she replied. “
He
knows.”

“Leonardo?” asked Heath, surprised. He turned to me. “All right— who is she?”

“She is the Dark Lady,” I said.

She smiled her acknowledgment.

“May I ask you a question, Great Lady?” I continued.

“Yes.”

“Have you ever heard of a man named Brian McGinnis?”

She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them and gazed at a bulkhead as if she were staring through it into the dim and distant past.

“Who the hell is Brian McGinnis?” asked Heath.

“A man who died almost six thousand years ago,” I replied.

“Brian McGinnis,” she said at last. “It has been a long time since I heard that name.”

“Did you know him?” I asked.

“How could she know him, if he died six thousand years ago?” demanded Heath, annoyed.

“Your friend is right, alien,” she said with a smile. “How could I know a man who died so many years ago?”

“I mean no offense, Great Lady,” I said, “but you have not answered my question.”

“I have the impression you know the answer.” Her dark eyes locked on mine. “Am I correct?”

“I believe so, Great Lady,” I said, surprised that I felt so little fear of her. “May I ask if you also knew Christopher Kilcullen.”

“You have done your homework well, alien,” she said with no hint of hostility. “I commend you.”

“But you do not answer me,” I said.

“There is no need to.”

“Still, I should like to hear it from your own lips, Great Lady,” I persisted.

She smiled again. “No doubt you would.” She paused. “You are not destined to have everything in this life that you seek, alien.”

There was a momentary silence.

“You
did
tell us to ask questions,” said Heath at last.

“
You
may ask them,” she replied.

“Fine,” said Heath. “While we're on the subject of men you might know, what about Malcolm Abercrombie?”

“Who is Malcolm Abercrombie?” she replied.

“He collects your portraits,” said Heath. “In fact, he's spent a considerable fortune on them.”

“What is that to me?” she asked serenely.

“Would you like to meet him?”

“I shall never meet him,” replied the Dark Lady. It was said not with a show of defiance, but as a simple statement of fact.

“He would like to meet you.”

“Then he shall be disappointed.”

“In fact,” continued Heath persuasively, “I would venture to say that he would pay a great deal of money to make your acquaintance.”

“I have no need of his money, and no desire for his company,” said the Dark Lady.

“Then possibly you would do so as a favor to me.”

“I owe you no favors.”

“I realize that it is less than gallant to mention it, but we
did
rescue you.”

“You are quite correct,” said the Dark Lady.

“Then I'm sure we can reach an understanding,” said Heath with a smile.

“You are quite correct about being less than gallant,” she replied. “And I understand you perfectly, Valentine Heath.” She took a sip of her coffee, then got gracefully to her feet. “Now, if you do not mind, I would like to rest.”

“May I ask you one last question, Great Lady?” I said.

She turned to me. “Only one.”

“Are you human?”

“Of course she's human,” interjected Heath. “Just look at her, Leonardo.”

She stared directly at me, but made no reply.

“Please, Great Lady,” I said. “I truly do not know the answer to my question.”

“The answer is no,” she said at last.

“You're an alien?” demanded Heath unbelievingly.

“No, I am not.”

Heath looked annoyed. “You've got to be one or the other.”

“If you say so,” she replied tranquilly. “Now could you please direct me to my quarters?”

“Certainly,” said Heath, getting to his feet and walking to a door. “You can have my cabin.”

“Thank you,” she said. “That is very generous of you.”

He flashed a smile at her. “What are friends for?”

“You are not my friend, Valentine Heath,” she replied placidly as she walked into his cabin and closed the door behind her.

“How did she know my name?” said Heath, returning to the table. “I didn't mention it to her.”

“Perhaps Mayor Peres did,” I said without conviction.

He nodded his head vigorously. “That must be it.” He pulled a bottle of liquor out of a cabinet, mixed himself a drink, and sat down. “Well, Leonardo, what do you think of our guest?”

“She is the Dark Lady,” I said.

“I know she's the Dark Lady. You told me she was the Dark Lady.
She
told me she was the Dark Lady.” He looked annoyed again. “Maybe I'd be more appreciative if someone would tell me just what the Dark Lady is.”

“I do not know,” I said.

“What was all this about Brian what's-his-name?”

“He was a human who lived almost a millennium before your race achieved interstellar flight.”

“What about him?”

“He painted her portrait,” I said.

“Obviously he painted someone who looked like her.”

“I have seen a photograph of the two of them together.”

“You're sure?”

“I am sure.”

“And Kilcullen? Was he another of the artists?”

“Yes.”

“And he, too, has been dead a long time, I presume?”

“Yes, though not as long as McGinnis.”