Untitled (9 page)

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.

"I like this," she said quietly.

Davage was intrigued. "You like the pastry? I must admit, I could eat a dozen of them at a sitting."

"You will bring me more of these or I shall kill you," she said in a somewhat perfunctory manner.

Davage smiled. He recalled the Clutch, and what could happen should it be broken—the bubbling up of emotions.

Like tea boiling in a cup, the tea and the flavor bursting out of the tea bag.

Interesting …

Davage, putting this notion to the test, poured himself a cup of coffee. She watched him. "What is that?" she asked.

"This? Coffee, a very fashionable drink in the League. An ancient drink."

She took a deep breath. "It has an interesting scent."

"Can I make you a cup?"

She didn't answer, instead, she leaned forward expectantly. He poured her a cup and she took it, noting the heat. She took a drink, and her face cringed.

"What is this? Poison? You cannot poison a Black Hat."

Davage laughed and took her cup from her. "It's not poison. Here, you simply must cream and sugar it to your liking. See, two lumps of sugar and a bit of fresh cream. That is how I take it."

He stirred the cup and offered it back to her. "Here, take it. Try it."

Dubious, she took it and had a sip. She took another. "I require additional sugar," she said swallowing.

"Certainly." Davage took another lump and plopped it in. She took a sip and then leaned back with it.

"As I was saying," she said, taking another sip, "my body. You wish to copulate with it, do you not? Do you wish me to take my robes off? I am beautiful, yes? Do you wish to have …"

She stopped speaking and started sniffing the air. She sniffed, looked around, and sniffed some more."

Davage watched her carefully. "Red?" he asked.

"What is that smell?"

"That smell? The coffee, do you mean?"

"No."

Davage looked around. Red continued to sniff. He checked himself. "I don't—well, I have a bit of cologne on from this morning. You can smell that?"

She leaned forward and sniffed the air near him. She closed her eyes and took several deep inhales. He couldn't help but feel a little awkward. "It … was a gift from my sister for my birthday some years back, my cologne. One of her sons is a perfumer by trade and made this scent just for me. Do you like it?"

She stopped sniffing and then looked at him. "Of course I do not like it…" she said taking a few more deep breaths. She finished her coffee. "And again," she said backtracking to her previous topic, her thoughts apparently quite disjointed. "You certainly desire to know my body. That is obvious to me. So, how shall we proceed? Shall we set to it right here in the brig?"

Davage realized that she was trying to go on the offensive, to pin him down on a topic and derail his attack. She was beginning to un-button her robes from the top. She was trying to use the classic sex ploy to muddy the conversation, to slow it to a crawl. Though a puerile and childish tactic, it could be effective if allowed to go on for too long. Quickly, he turned it around.

"Actually, I was hoping to escort you to your new quarters," he said finishing his cup."

"My quarters?"

"Yes. The brig is such an ugly, inconvenient place and for a prisoner such as yourself, completely useless. I've ordered guest quarters be prepared for you at once. There you will have access to a proper bed, facilities, and change of clothes. I am distressed to say it, Red, but your robes are becoming a bit … stuffy as the days go by."

Red quickly looked down and as Davage noticed, blushed a tiny bit.

She took a few more small bites of food. "I will say, Captain, you have a knack for changing the subject and keeping me confused. Very well, I will permit you to live long enough to escort me to these quarters you offer. I will expect more of these pastries that I like to be made available there, as well as more coffee. The coffee will be properly treated. If I receive it untreated, if I receive it in its bestial form, I will kill you. And you—you will wear more of your insipid cologne at all times in my presence, understood?"

Slowly, in a stiff manner, she stood. She was tiny, barely coming up to his solar plexus.