Sygillis of Metatron

by Ren Garcia

  "I'm sorry for that," he said. "I hope I didn't hurt your foot."

  She stood there for a moment and put her invisible hands on his face. She held them there.

  "Is your foot all right?" he said again.

  "My foot is fine," she said finally. She became visible.

  "Are you through playing 'Confuse the Captain'?" he asked.

  "I was simply wishing to have sport with you."

  "You didn't think I would be alarmed and call the Sisters?"

  "The game we play does not involve the Sisters. This is between you and me. You are man enough to play this game with me, I think."

  She still had her hands on his face.

  "Why did you blow in my ear?" he asked. "Why did you lick my ear?"

  "Because I wanted to. I wished to know what you taste like. You taste good, if you're curious to know. Will you blow in mine—in my ear?"

  "No."

  "Why?"

  "Because Fleet captains do not blow in the ears of their prisoners."

  "Am I your prisoner?"

  "Yes, you meet all of the criteria."

  "I see. And if the prisoner requests such an action, in writing perhaps, as you suggested earlier?"

  "The request will take six months to process. At that time, the request will be refused. Such an activity does not fall under the minimum requirements imposed on a ship's captain regarding the maintaining of a prisoner."

  "And if I were to protest the decision?" she asked.

  "Then a hearing shall be convened to further explore the matter."

  "And if the final judgment were to be rendered in my favor?"

  "Then I'll select an orderly to do it—a female orderly, of course."

  She smiled. "What are you afraid of, sir?"

  "Nothing. I am not afraid of you. We have been through this before."

  "You are not afraid of me killing you, I will grant you that. However, you are still afraid of me."

  "And how so?"

  She took a step toward him. Though she was clad in pajamas and her feet were bandaged, she had a commanding presence. "You are afraid that we shall become lovers some day."

  "Is that what I am afraid of?"

  "Yes, it is."

  "And does such a thing not frighten you?"

  "Not at all. I await it. I am eager for it." She smiled at him. "As I said, you taste good."

  "I have told you that I am uninterested in—"

  "It matters not, the lies you have told me. We shall become lovers regardless."

  "And why do you wish to become my lover?"

  She took a step toward him. "Let's see … because you are a man, because I find you handsome, because I like the sound of your voice, because I enjoy your company. Shall I go on?"

  "You have greatly improved at the art of debate, I must say. I cannot dominate you as I once did."

  "I have had a fine teacher."

  "Then allow me to put your argument to rest. We shall not become lovers, because I will not allow it—ever. All the morals, ethics, and principles I hold dear make no other choice possible. Is that concise enough for you?"

  Sygillis, eager to argue, made to respond, but then her eyes glazed over and became hollow and glassy again. It appeared that she was going to topple over, and Davage caught her before she could collapse. Carefully, he placed her into bed and pulled the bedclothes up to her chin.

  She had been becoming more prone to these strange spells as the days wore on. He was becoming concerned, if that was possible. He wanted Ennez to look her over.

  She stirred. She spoke, slurred.

  "I have had … a vision … of the future … just now."

  "I have heard Black Hats can often see the future."

  Sygillis's eyes drifted in and out of focus.

  "And what did you see?" Dav asked, stroking her red hair out of her face.

  "I saw us … standing together … in … Metatron I think."

  "Metatron?"

  "Yes, I am certain of it. Metatron. We stand there together, hand in hand. Just the two of us. You are telling me something."

  "And what am I saying?"

  "I am … not certain … but I weep as I listen. What you tell me … means more to me than I can currently comprehend …"

  "It's a dream, Sygillis, nothing more."

  She looked at him, eyes glassy. "Believe in me, Captain. Do not … be afraid to love me … please …"

  She said no more. She did not move; she did not close her eyes.

  11

  A CRY FOR HELP

 

  A steel scream ripped through his mind as he slept.

  Davage sat up in bed and held his head—a knife had apparently been jammed into it. He rubbed his eyes. Had he just been dreaming?

 

  He doubled over and winced. That was no dream.

  The Com cracked to life.

  "Captain!" Kilos yelled. Whenever she called him Captain, he knew something bad was happening.

  "Situation!" he said.

  "She's gone mad, Dav! Berserk! She's tearing her quarters up and screaming your name!"

  "By the Elders—what has happened?" Davage Sighted his star-lit quarters and began hurriedly dressing. "Has she used any of her powers?"

  "Other than a bit of telepathy, I don't think so, but the Sisters have just about had it, Dav! If you have any hopes of saving that Black Hat still, you better get down there, and fast!"

  Cursing, Davage pulled his boots on.

  "Ki, I am on my way there now. You tell the Sisters that I have not authorized this execution, and if they choose to take her life then they will have to face me over it and hard!"

  "You better hurry!"

  Without tucking his shirt in, Davage clipped on his MiMs gun belt and clanking, saddled CARG, threw his hat on, and headed out into the corridor at a run.

  When he got to her quarters, quite a commotion greeted him. A company of Marines, their SKs drawn, were stationed on either side of the door. Four Sisters stood there, two of them in their night garments. They looked sleepy and rather grumpy.

  There was a terrible racket coming from inside the quarters. The sounds of objects flying and cloth ripping assailed his ears.

  "Davvaaaaaagge!" came a shriek through the door.

  Davage adjusted his hat, unbuckled his MiMs, and went toward the door.

  "Captain, you aren't going in there, are you?" asked one of the Marines, his SK pistol at the ready.

  "Well, Captain? Had enough … this silliness?" said one of the Sisters, her accent rough and grating at this early hour.

  "Captain, please be reasonable," a Marine said for one of the Sisters.

  "I am going to kill her now!" another Marine said.

  Davage turned to the Sisters. "Sisters, please … she is clearly in distress of some sort. I am going inside to assist her."

  One of the Sisters, the one he was used to seeing in his office, came forward and put her hands on his chest. She was wearing a night robe and didn't have her headdress on; her shoulder-length blonde hair was damp, as if she'd recently washed it. Davage couldn't help but notice that she had a pleasing bosom and a comely figure. A Sister … with a pleasing figure. Who would have thought? The fact that the Sister probably knew that he'd just noticed her in a carnal sort of way was … mortifying to say the least.

  "Captain," a Marine said for the Sister, "please do not go in there. She is a raging beast and will certainly kill you upon sight. I'll not see you killed."

  "Sister, again, I am endlessly humbled that you care for me so, however, I am certain she will not kill me. She cried out for me, not to kill, but to seek aid. I must to her side and help her as best I can."

  "Then I will come with you. I will protect you," a Marine said for her.

  "Sister, your presence will prove provocative; she might think you are there to harm her. She might think she is under attack. I must do this alone, as I am a harmless nobody, she will …"

  The S
ister put her finger on Dav's mouth. She spoke: "Not … nobody …"

  Another Sister came forward. "Enough—she will die!" a Marine shouted for her.

  The Sister shot her a furtive glance, and she backed away. The Sister then reached up and kissed him on the cheek. The Marines appeared amazed.

  "I will miss you, should you die," a shocked Marine said for the Sister.

  Davage cupped her face in his hand for a moment. This display of love was enough to wrench his soul into pieces.

  "Then, for you, I will make it a special point to survive," he said.

  Without a further word, Davage opened the door and went in. The Sister, good-looking in her nightclothes, watched him as the door closed.

  The quarters had been torn to shambles. The bed was overturned, sheets ripped and tossed. Broken glass was everywhere.

  Something dark lay on the floor, amidst the wreckage.

  It was her black felt bow.

  And then, there she was, standing by a broken mirror, arms extended, head cocked to one side, mouth pulled back, teeth showing, her hair a tangled red cloud around her scratched face—like a vision from the grave.

  She was naked, her pajamas ripped from her. The bandages on her feet had also been ripped away. Her feet were raw, throbbing.

  She lunged at him, and for a moment, he found himself reaching for his CARG.

  She reached Davage and threw her arms around him. She sobbed and moaned into his chest.

  "Davaaage … help me," she cried, slobbering.

  "Lady Sygillis, what is it, what is wrong?"

  "TTTTTeneramusssss."

  "Teneramus … Shadow tech?" he said.

  Sygillis sobbed, her face was drawn in anguish. "It's killing me, driving me mad!"

  "But why, how?"

  She was hysterical. "Can't … can't … can't get rid of it. Growing … filling me, DRIVING ME MAD!"

  Davage couldn't make any sense out of it. "You're saying Shadow tech is somehow growing inside you."

  "Sisters … Sisters … won't let me cast … won't let me expel … growing … going to die …GOING TO DIE!"

  And Davage understood.

  "So, are you saying that, because you are prevented from creating Shadow tech, that it is adversely affecting you?"

  "Going to die," she wept into his chest.

  "And the only way to better yourself is to get rid of it, to cast it?"

  She looked up at him. Her eyes, wet, puffy, pleading. "I don't want to die."

  "Lady Sygillis …"

  "I don't want to die."

  "Listen to me."

  "I DON'T WANT TO DIE!"

  Davage pulled her naked body off the floor and placed her back on the ruined bed.

  She continued to moan.

  Davage took her gently by the face. "Lady Sygillis …"

  Her eyes were darting, glassy. Wherever she was, it was far away.

  "Do you trust me?"

  She didn't respond.

  "Lady Sygillis, do you trust me?"

  She hesitated a moment and then looked up at him and nodded. "Yes."

  "Then trust me now. I understand your situation; you need to expel your Shadow tech, yes?"

  Her eyes pleaded with him.

  "We will take care of this problem. We will fix this."

  "We will fix this," she repeated. She seemed to calm down a bit.

  "Can you endure for a few hours more?"

  She nodded and wiped tears from her eyes.

  "Be strong. I will arrange for you to be able to cast your excess energy today."

  Davage went to the door and opened it. Kilos was outside.

  "What's going on, Dav?"

  "It's all right, Ki. What's our current position?"

  "We are mark seven of five AM past Mallets."

  Davage thought a moment. "Mallets, Mallets …"

  He had a thought.

  "Seetac. Seetac is mark three of five AM from Mallets. It's perfect. Kilos, send to Navigation, plot solution for Seetac 2 and wind for fastest possible speed short of going to Stellar Mach. Understand?"

  "Aye, Captain."

  "Go now."

  Kilos ran down the hall. Davage looked back into the dark, destroyed room.

  "Have courage, two, maybe three hours maximum, and you will be able to rid yourself of the Shadow tech."

  "Captain?"

  "Yes?"

  He could see her forlorn naked body sitting on the bed looking at him in the dark. "Could you please stay here with me … for a bit?"

  Davage closed the door and walked back toward her. Using his Sight, he found a fresh pair of pajamas in a drawer and slowly, tenderly, dressed her. He cleaned her scratches and checked her feet. All of Ennez's good work had somehow held.

  He fetched a comb and picked up her bow. He then began carefully combing her hair, working out all of the tangles her hysteria had wrought into it.

  She looked at him with wonder. "Your eyes … they glow."

  "I'm just using a bit of Sight, so that I may work in the dark. Now do you believe in it?"

  She didn't answer, just stared at him as he worked.

  "Why are you doing this?" she finally asked, still staring at his eyes. Davage had the distinct impression that, for the first time, she was actually listening to him, actually awaiting his answer.

  "Because, as I have said, I am looking for good in you."

  She put her hand on his arm as he combed. "And if I may ask as a matter of interest, what are your findings up to this point?"

  Davage put the bow back into her hair and knelt down. He was eye to eye with her. "I believe that, under all of the robes and the Shadow tech and the threats and the clouds of myth and fear, there is a person … a person who is crying out to be heard."

  He moved a bit closer to her. "And I assure you, Lady Sygillis, I hear you."

  Her eyes watered and her mouth pulled back as if she were about to cry but was stopping herself.

  "Now I must attend to your arrangements."

  Davage headed to the door and it opened. Light from the corridor pooled in.

  "Davage, Lord of Blanchefort," she said.

  "Yes?"

  She looked at him for a moment. "Thank you."

  Davage doffed his hat and bowed. "You are most welcome."

  Another first.

  * * * * *

  "Captain Davage, now you have gone too far."

  Davage stood in the meeting room. Seven Sisters sat at the table, each flanked by a Marine. The Sister who'd kissed him earlier sat near the back, dressed in her usual robes and headdress.

  She smiled at him and offered a knowing look. She was clearly relieved he was alive.

  The other Sisters weren't so charitable. They were angry. It was the Marines who were speaking, but it was the Sisters who were doing the talking. To top things off, the Grand Abbess of Pithnar, one of the twenty-five Grand Abbesses of the Sisterhood, sat at the end of the table. She did not have a Marine. Her exalted presence made Davage a bit nervous.

  The Sisters were not happy.

  "We have gone along with you to this point, listened to your ravings, allowed this monster to live, but now … now you want us to allow her to actively create a Shadow tech manifestation? Illegal! Unheard of!"

  "Yes, Sister, calm yourself please. She says the Shadow tech is growing within her, that, by not casting it over the last several days, it has grown to dangerous levels—like milk in a cow's udders, I suppose. If she is allowed to release it, then she will be all right."

  "And you propose—you propose to set her to shore on some distant planet and allow her to create Shadow tech for as long as she deems fit?"

  "Exactly. We are on course for Seetac 2. It is perfect. It's a remote, arid and uninhabited world."

  "Captain, the casting of Shadow tech is illegal."

  "Sister, she is already a prisoner of this ship … add it to her list of charges if you must. If we do not allow this, she will die."