The Dark Lady

her portrait.”
    “Explain!” I commanded sharply.
    “Two years ago, through one of his agents, Malcolm Abercrombie purchased a portrait of the subject whom you refer to as the Dark Lady. The auction was held on Beta Santori V.”
    “Continue,” I said expectantly.
    “The underbidder was Vladimir Kobrynski. I realize that this has nothing to do with the hypothetical problem that you posed this evening, but there is only a .0000037 percent probability that his name would occur in both contexts unless there were a connection.”
    “May I have a hard-copy printout of any data you possess about him that is available for public access?”
    “Printing... ”
    A sheet of paper emerged from the machine.
    “And have you a hologram of him in your memory banks?”
    “I have not yet erased it. Please observe the screen.”
    The holographic screen shimmered to life, and for the first time I saw the harsh, craggy face of Vladimir Kobrynski.

18.
    The Dark Lady stood before me, her arms outstretched, beckoning me to follow her. I took a tentative step forward, then another.
    “Come, Leonardo,” she crooned. “Come see such things as you have only dreamed about. Come cross the barrier with me. Come learn the eternal mysteries of Life and Death.”
    I took another, less tentative step.
    “Come,” she whispered. “Come with me and learn the sublime secrets of the Other Side. Come!”
    I sat upright on my sleeping cot, my hands shaking, my hue fluctuating wildly. Finally, as I realized that it had just been a dream, I became calmer.
    Or had it been a dream? I rarely dreamed, and when I did, I could not remember the details upon awakening— and yet I recalled this dream with perfect clarity.
    The more I thought about it, the more I wondered if it was not a dream but a vision, a manifestation of the Mother of All Things. It seemed presumptuous to think that she would visit me — let alone any Bjornn male— yet every detail of the experience remained fresh and clear in my mind.
    “Lights!” I ordered hoarsely.
    The room was instantly illuminated, and I began pacing back and forth, pondering the meaning of what had happened. I had gone directly to Venzia's hotel from the library to tell him what I had discovered. He had become extraordinarily agitated, and told me that he planned to depart for Saltmarsh, Kobrynski's home planet, within the hour. He offered to take me with him, but I felt that I could not leave Far London without Tai Chong's permission, and although I had asked him to postpone his journey until the morning, he had refused, his face glowing with a fanatical zeal.
    So I had come back to my room, distressed that my part in the Dark Lady's saga had come to an end, and had gone directly to bed. Since she was prominent in my thoughts all evening, it was logical to assume that I had simply dreamed about her, subconsciously working out my frustration at being left behind.
    That was the logical explanation— but was it the right one? Did the Dark Lady merely visit human males, or had she also appeared to me ? And if she had appeared to me, was she indeed the Mother of All Things? Was it blasphemous even to consider the possibility, or was it sacrilegious not to follow her when she had beckoned me?
    I didn't know, and the more I thought about it, the more confused I became. I was still considering all the ramifications of the problem when day dawned and I left my room to go to the gallery.
    As I entered the small, sparsely furnished lobby of my hotel, Valentine Heath was waiting for me, totally oblivious to the curious glances from the residents and the hostile glares from the humans who looked in while walking past.
    “Good morning, Leonardo,” he said. “You look awful.”
    “I did not sleep well, Friend Valentine,” I replied.
    “I'm sorry to hear it.”
    “How did you know that I lived here?” I asked. “I never told you.”
    “It's not very difficult to trace an alien on Far London,” he replied with a smile. Suddenly the smile vanished. “You really should move out,” he continued. “The carpeting is threadbare, the wallpaper is peeling, and the hired help keeps staring at me in a surly manner.”
    “It is the best hotel available to non-humans,” I responded.
    “I don't believe it!”
    “Neither did I, until I visited some of the others,” I said. I turned slightly so that I would not see the desk clerk, a Canphorite who was staring fixedly at Heath and myself with an expression of