by Ren Garcia
She stood there looking at him with new eyes.
She faded away, and his dream became his own again, the battle fought and apparently won to some extent.
He rustled in his bed and then continued sleeping.
In the morning he only remembered having a strange dream, a dark dream having something to do with Sygillis of Metatron, the Black Hat. The most vivid thing he could remember was a flash of light and green eyes.
6
"RED"
"Lord Blanchefort, you are an exasperating man!" the robed, headdressed Sister said as she sat in Davage's office.
It was the morning following Davage's bizarre trek into the brig. He'd had that strange dream and been badly sick that morning—either it was nerves or his body reacting to the Black Hat's power. After a few hours of throwing up in the bathroom, he finally felt like himself again, though his skin crawled for some time to come. And he noticed he had several odd, painful welts on his back and chest.
Davage took a drink of coffee. "Sister, either your spoken language skills are getting better or I am becoming more telepathic. I cannot determine which from which."
The Sister turned to Kilos and silently spoke to her.
"Dav, she says she's been practicing up for that remark. And I must say that I agree with her. I cannot, and she cannot, fathom why you are returning to the brig again. Tempting fate again."
Davage put his coffee down and picked up a report. "As I have said, I have not yet had my questions answered. I don't see what all the fuss is about. I was not killed yesterday."
The Sister again filled Kilos's head with thoughts. "The Sister says your implacable cheek probably had the Black Hat discombobulated yesterday. Today she will be more ready to do you in."
Davage considered that for a moment. She was probably correct. He looked at Ki in her Marine uniform. Her long red coat reminded him of a side of beef.
"She could do me in from here if she so chose. Wouldn't that be a spectacle, to make my head explode in my very office?"
"Be serious, Dav."
"I am deadly serious. Sister, may I offer you some coffee?"
The Sister looked at Davage and after a moment, nodded, the wings of her headdress bobbing slightly. Davage got up and poured her a cup of steaming coffee. "How do you like it, ma'am?"
"Black …" she said herself in her strange accent.
Davage finished pouring and offered her the cup. She took a few drinks.
"Good …" she said.
"Dav," Kilos said, "the Black Hat needs to be killed. The Sister says she will kill the Black Hat today."
The Sister appeared sad.
"The Sister says she is sorry. The Sister says she does not wish to disappoint you, but the Black Hat will die today. She must."
"The fact that this Xaphan looks exactly like Captain Hathaline gives you no pause, Ki?"
"No, it doesn't."
"Really? Ki, when I say that she looks like Captain Hathaline, I don't mean she bears a vague similarity to her. I don't mean she sort-of looks like Hath or that she kind of reminds me of Hath. She looks exactly like her, for Creation's sake!"
"Maybe it's a Cloak." A gold thread stuck out of her stiff black and gold collar, catching the light.
"If it was a Cloak then I'd know that, wouldn't I? There has been no Cloak devised that I cannot Sight through. She is Hath's double—her twin, and I want to know why. I must know why. I'll not see Hath die again." He smiled. "By the way, Ki, you've got a thread, just there."
"She's not Captain Hathaline, Dav!" Ki said, whirling around, trying to get at the thread. Ki was very particular about her uniform. It had to be perfect, or she'd go mad.
The Sister, looking anguished, spoke to Kilos again. "Dav, the Sister implores your forgiveness. She wants to know if you will find it in your heart to forgive her when the Black Hat is dead." Kilos got the thread and shook her head. "Boy, Dav—I've never seen a Sister this concerned about how a Fleet captain feels."
"Sister, you need not fear, for I love you like no other. But again, I will be in the Black Hat's presence again today, and I will die right next to her if need be."
The Sister closed her eyes and winced.
"Dav, are you insane?"
"Ki, we are the League. We are the children of the Elders, nurtured with their teachings, bathed in their light. We are supposed to be the good guys."
"We are the good guys."
"Are we? You and the Sister here are spoiling for her blood, without cause, without trial or referendum. Is she, the Black Hat, something to be killed, nothing more? Is that something the Elders teach?"
"Black Hat," the Sister said holding her cup. "Sygillis of Metatron … murderer …"
"All I saw was a frightened, starving woman, sitting alone, surrounded by enemies."
"Black Hats don't feel fear, Dav. You're assigning her attributes she doesn't have," Kilos said.
"Black Hats … evil. Black Hats must die."
"The institution certainly, is evil, I acknowledge that. But the people, the Xaphans … they are us! They must be capable of redemption."
Davage stood, his blood rising. "Sister, we made a promise to the Elders. We promised to stay in this sector and defend life, defend all we could from the Xaphans. Well, there it is. There is the life to be defended sitting in my brig. In this case, the life needing defending happens to be a Xaphan. Xaphan or not, Black Hat or not, her life is worth defending too."
A tear came to Davage's eye. "Sister, Kilos, are we so familiar in our war with the Xaphans, are we so comfortable in our hatreds, that we can forget the very basic nature of our charge, our ongoing mission? It could very well be that my father was right, after all—that there is hope for our two factions. And … and should you be correct and she chooses to snuff the life out of me—to kill me, to murder me in cold blood—then I will go to my death doing what I thought was right!"
Davage leaned against the wall and wiped the tear from his face.
A soft hand touched his back. Davage turned. He thought it was Kilos.
It was the Sister, still holding her coffee cup. A tear rolled down her cheek too.
"You … a good Elder, Captain," she said. "A … great loss … you die."
Davage laid his hands on her slender shoulders. "I've no intention of dying, Sister. I am certain I can do this. I am certain I can get through to her. I am certain I can awaken the Elder within."
The Sister, trembling, looked at Davage.
"So, Sister, is the Black Hat to live, or is today the day we both die?"
The Sister turned from him and sat down.
She spoke to Ki. "Dav, she says she wishes to share something with you."
Dav poured himself another cup of coffee and sat down opposite her. "Thank you, Sister, I am listening."
The Sister filled Ki's head. "She wants you to know that the Sisterhood has information regarding the Black Hats, information which is not generally known except in certain ancient texts. She says she wishes to share this information with you, as she truly is concerned about your well-being."
Davage blushed. "I am flattered and most thankful for this information."
Kilos looked down and straightened her red coat. Her huge Marine SK pistol jutted from its holster. "The Black Hats, Dav, are evil. They are surrounded by an invisible wall of darkness. The Sisterhood calls it the Black Abbess's Clutch. She says this wall, this darkness, keeps the Black Hat in a perpetual daze, an endless dream. Dav, she says because of this Clutch they feel nothing but rage and hate. They aren't able to feel anything else. She says all of the emotions that make us Elder are suppressed within them, beaten down, kept in sway. There's nothing left for the Black Hat but rage and hate."
Ki wiped her nose. "Kind of sad, really."
Davage finished his coffee and stood. "Sister, I thank you for this knowledge."
"Sit down, Dav," Ki said. "She also says that this Black Abbess's Clutch is not breakable. There is no known way to break it. It is there, and
it always will be there. So, given that, will you please let them kill her? I say it will be a kindness."
Davage put his hat on and straightened his coat. "Sounds to me, given this information, that the Black Hat is not really responsible for her actions, is she? That her foul nature is forced upon her."
Ki stood up and slapped herself in the forehead. "You know, Dav, how did I know you were going to say something like that?"
"I suppose it's because you understand that I am now more determined than ever to assist this wayward soul. I wonder, should the Clutch be broken somehow, what might happen? All of her previously suppressed emotions possibly quick-rising to the surface—bubbling like a cup of boiling tea, all the herbs and flavors, once held in bond within the tea bag, suddenly released and allowed to circulate. I imagine such a thing will be a sight to see."
"You can't break the damn Clutch, Dav!" Kilos yelled. "Who's going to break it—you? The Sisters can't do it, so how in Creation are you?"
Dav looked at Ki and smiled. "Ki, I do believe your face is as red as your coat right now."
Ki pointed at him and looked genuinely angry. "If my face is red it's because you made it red!"
He turned to the Sister. "So, Sister, I am on my way to the brig. If you wish to kill the both of us, I suggest you follow."
The Sister shook her head and smiled.
"Dav," Kilos said, "the Sister says she will argue your case to the Sisterhood. She says she will do it because you ask it of her. If it was anyone else, that Black Hat would already be cold and stiff." "Thank you, Sister," he said.
The Sister turned to Kilos one last time then left the room. "Dav," she said. "The Sister says she will do her very best to protect you. She sincerely hopes that you will survive this exercise."
"As do I, Kilos."
* * * * *
Davage entered the brig, again holding a tray of food and water. He had some fruit on the tray, along with assorted smoked meats and a few sweet pastries. He also had a pot of coffee, just in case this session lasted through the afternoon like the last one did.
The Black Hat sat exactly where she had the day before. This time, she watched Davage come in, set the tray down, and sit. She watched him intently, eyes glittering.
"So," she said in a quiet, measured voice. "You have returned to my presence, again."
Davage smiled. "I have. Good morning, I hope you slept well," he said in a cheerful voice.
"I must admit, I was wondering if you had the gall to face me again."
"Oh I've gall a-plenty, ma'am. I've gall to pass around."
"Is it courage or madness that has brought you to me a second time?"
Davage looked at the tray he had brought her yesterday—the food was gone, the water drunk. "You know, ma'am, it's odd how those two concepts tend to combine. I see you ate. I'm glad, and I hope our food was to your liking. If you have a specific request, I will see that the galley prepares it for you."
The Black Hat sat, silent.
"I did not have my question answered yesterday. I am still awaiting your name. Also, I thought I'd share with you that I think I dreamt of you last night, though the details are fuzzy."
"Interesting," she said. "And I believe that I dreamt of you as well."
"Really," Davage said, recalling the Clutch. "Dreamt of killing me, did you?"
"Most probably," she said. "As for my name, I am certain the Sisters have already scanned me, though I still live, have already determined my identity. I am certain they could list out for you all of my various crimes, and I am guilty, sir, guilty of everything I am charged with. I assure you."
"I wish to hear it from you, ma'am."
The Black Hat smiled a shark's toothy smile. "So the victim asks his murderer her name."
She spat with contempt. "Lord Blanchefort," she said in a mocking voice. "You appear to take much stock in stories. Tell me, what do your stories say Black Hats do when they have been detected in battle?"
Davage thought for a moment. "I believe they say a detected Black Hat will attempt to create the most mayhem and damage possible before being killed."
She smiled. It was a slow, ugly smile. "And here you are, a Fleet captain, and one who is well known to us—one who has taken many of our lives, one who has been a thorn in our side for decades."
She leaned forward, her eyes glittering. "And I have already told you that your stories are accurate. So, what do you think I am going to do here in the next few moments? I am going to do now what I should have done yesterday."
Davage knew he was in trouble. He thought fast. He leaned forward. They were almost close enough to kiss. She seemed genuinely put off by this.
"So," he said cheerfully, "you intend to kill me, do you?"
"I do. I have thought of little else since our first encounter."
"Well then, I think killing a Fleet captain shall be a bold statement for you. Consider this, though. I take it you've heard of me in whatever circles and environs you habit?"
"I have."
"Then you'll know that I, like you, have also killed a number of people, though I take no pride in that. But I, unlike you, did not do it by simply pointing at them and watching them explode, or by sweeping them aside with a wave of my hand. No, no. I did it man to man, man to woman sometimes … pretty much right at this distance here where we are now."
Some of the glitter in her eyes faded.
"Yes. Right now, ma'am, you are defenseless. The Sisters have permitted you nothing. You have no Sten, no fields of illusion, you have no Shadow tech shield or snares, you have no Hulgismen to screen you. Right now it's just you and me, and I will wager that my reflexes are vastly superior to yours. I have all sorts of options. I could CARG you in twain, I could pummel you insensate. I could shoot you if I felt uninspired, or I could just snap that tiny neck of yours with my bare hands."
She leaned back. "You will find that I am not so helpless physically. I am strong."
"Indeed," Davage said.
The Black Hat closed her eyes. "Then why do you not proceed with it? Let us fight. I am Xaphan, you League; that is what we do."
"Because I don't wish to kill you, as I have said."
Davage smiled brightly. "Well, now that that ugliness is behind us, I still do not have a name to call you," he said, pretending that he did not already know her name.
"You may call me death, for that is what I am to you—your death, sooner or later. I wish to kill you like I've wished for nothing else."
"Death is such an ugly word to say. Hmmm, may I call you D then? D, for death?"
"You may not."
"Well, I have to call you something, don't I? I'll just call you Red— red robe, lovely red hair. Red it is."
"Refer to me as Red and I will most certainly kill you."
"Well, Red, seeing as you are determined to kill me anyway, I will continue to call you Red. How about that?"
In watching her expression carefully, Davage thought he noticed, for the first time, the smallest hint of a smile cross her face—yet another first.
Davage, for all his bravado, knew he had Red, the Black Hat, right where he wanted her. Denied the use of all her formidable powers by the waiting Sisters, in close quarters with a man who was a superior hand-to-hand combatant, the only weapon left to her was debate, and that was clearly a tool she was not used to using. And here, in the Seeker's brig, she was facing an opponent who was, apparently, not afraid of her—yet another weapon denied.
She began picking at the food Davage had brought her and commenced the battle.
"I believe I understand why you are here."
"I have told you why I am here. I am here because you look like a friend of mine, because I wish to know your name, and because I am looking for goodness in you."
"There is none, as I have said. You are trying to confuse me…"
"I am trying to understand you, to discover the person beneath the robes."
She grabbed a pastry and took a small bite. "Yes, under my robes
. You wish to love this body … you …"
She stopped suddenly and looked at the pastry in her hand.
Davage adjusted himself in his seat. "Is something wrong with the pastry, ma'am?" he asked, observing her carefully.
She popped the rest of the pastry into her mouth and grabbed another one.