The Dark Lady

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.”
    He frowned. “Interesting,” he mused.
    “I would say that it is frightening,” I replied. “Except that I am not frightened by her.”
    “Why should you be?”
    “Because she is not human and she is not alien.”
    “What she mostly is is not truthful,” scoffed Heath, sipping his drink. “She's as human as I am.”
    “Then how did she come to know about Brian McGinnis?” I persisted.
    “Probably the same way you did.”
    “I have seen representations of her that predate the McGinnis painting by over two thousand years.”
    “Do you think she's the only black-haired woman who ever lived?” demanded Heath.
    “No,” I said. “I think she is the only black-haired woman who has lived this long.”
    “Do you know what the human life expectancy is?” he snapped.
    “Yes,” I replied. “But she is not human.”
    “She looks human, she lives with humans, she gets painted and sculpted by humans, she takes human names, Does that sound like an alien to you?”
    “She said that she is not an alien.”
    He snorted contemptuously. “Once you've eliminated human and alien, what else is there?”
    “Could she be a psychic or spiritual manifestation?” I asked.
    He pointed to her half-empty cup. “Manifestations don't drink coffee.”
    “I was unaware of that,” I said. “Doubtless you have encountered manifestations before.”
    “Damn it!” he snapped, finishing his drink. “I know this is especially difficult for a Bjornn to grasp, but not all women tell the truth.” He put his drink on a table and walked to the ship's computer. “We'll solve this once and for all. Activate!”
    “Activated,” replied the computer. “Waiting... ”
    “How many sentient beings are aboard this ship at this moment?”
    “Three,” answered the computer.
    “Who?”
    “Yourself, a Bjornn named Leonardo, and a human woman whose name may or may not be Nekhbet, Shareen d'Amato, Eresh-Kigal, or the Dark Lady.”
    “Give me some physical data on the woman.”
    “Height,