Nemesis

them had to fake the genial nothings of greeting, for the sake of propriety.

“My Lord Rei?” He turned as a servant approached, a young man in the Saros

livery with a wary cast to his face. He nervously side-stepped the Crusaders and

offered a card to the Mech-Lord; and that was his error. The servant did not wait to

be addressed, but instead proffered the card before it was acknowledged.

Rei’s aide stepped in to meet him with a faint hiss of hydraulics, and in one fluid

motion took the hand holding the card and broke it at the wrist. The bone cracked

wetly and the servant went white with shock, staggering. He would likely have fallen

if the machine had not been holding him up.

“What is this?” he asked.

The servant spoke through gritted teeth. “A… A message for you, sir…” He

gasped and gave him a pleading look. “Please, I only did as the lady asked me to…”

“The lady?” Rei’s heart thumped in his chest. “Give it to me.”

His aide took the card and held it to her chromium lips. She licked it with a

disconcertingly human-looking tongue, paused, then handed it on to her master. Had

there been any contact toxins on the surface, she would have destroyed it.

The Mech-Lord fought off a tremor in his hands as he read the languid, flowing

script written across the white card. It was a single word: “Come”. He turned it over

and saw it listed a location in the apartments reserved for the opera house’s

performers.

“Is something amiss?” said the director, his face pinched in concern.

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Rei pressed his half-empty brandy glass into the man’s hand and walked away.

His robots followed, and behind them the servant staggered down to his knees,

clutching at his ruined wrist.

* * *

The apartments were a short pneu-car ride up three levels to Saros Station’s most

exclusive residential decks. Rei had his own orbital out by Callisto and did not keep

rooms here, but he had visited the chambers in the past during one of his many affairs

and so he knew where to go. The presence of his maniple made sure that no one

dared to waylay him, and presently he reached the room. His aide knocked on the

door and it opened on silent servos.

From within came that silken voice. “Come,” she said.

Rei took a step—and then hesitated. He pulse was racing like that of a giddy

youth in the first blush of infatuation, and he had to admit, as much as he was

enjoying the sensation of it, he was still the man he was. Still distrustful of

everything on some deep level. His enemies had tried to use women as weapons

against him before, and he had buried them; could this be one more attempt to do the

same? His throat went dry; he hoped it would not be so. The strange, ephemeral

connection he felt with the actress seemed so very real, and the thought that it might

be a thing brought into existence just to hurt him cut deeply.

For a long moment, he wavered on the threshold, contemplating turning about

and leaving, taking the pneu-car back to the docks and his yacht, leaving and never

coming back.

Just making the thought felt like razors in his gut; and then she spoke again; “My

lord?” He heard the mirror of his own questions and fears in her words.

His aide walked in ahead of him and Rei went to follow, but again he hesitated.

Even if what he hoped for would come about in this glorious evening, he could not

afford to lose sight of the realities of his life. He turned to the Crusaders and spoke a

string of command words. The robots immediately took up sentry positions around

the door to the apartment, weapons ready, bowing their mantis-like heads low so that

they would not damage the lamps hanging from the ceiling above.

Rei entered the room and became overcome by a vision.

His first thought was; she is not dead! But of course that was true. It had only

been a play, and yet it had seemed so real to him. The woman stood, still dressed in

her queenly costume, the sweep of her lithe and flawless skin visible through the

diaphanous silver of the dress. Metallic glitter accented her cheekbones and the

almond curves of her dark eyes. She bowed to him and looked away shyly. “My lord

Rei. I feared you would not visit me. I feared I might have presumed too much…”

“Oh no,” Rei said, dry-throated. “No. It is my honour…” He managed a smile.

“My queen.”

She looked up at him, smiling too, and it was magnificent. “Will you call me that,

my lord? May I be your Jocasta?” She toyed with a thin drape of silk that curtained

off one section of the apartments from another.

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He was drawn to her, crossing the white pile of the anteroom’s rich carpeting. “I

would like that very much,” he husked.

The woman—his Jocasta—threw a look towards his mechanoid. “And will she be

joining us?”

The open invitation in her reply made Rei blink. “Uh. No.” He turned and spoke

tersely to the robot. “Wait here.”

His Jocasta smiled again and vanished into the room beyond. Grinning, Rei