The Dark Lady

paused. “I guess I must have seen it once before, and carried the memory of her face around in my subconscious.”
    “You can think of no other explanation?” I asked.
    “I sure as hell can't have met her,” he replied. “The painting was six centuries old.”
    “Why did you attempt to purchase it?” I asked.
    Suddenly his eyes narrowed. “Look,” he said harshly. “If it's been stolen, and your boss is thinking of blaming me for it, just because I bid on the damned thing... ”
    “I assure you that it has not been stolen,” I said, “nor is Malcolm Abercrombie still my employer.”
    “Then why do you care why I tried to buy it?”
    “Please believe that it is important to me.”
    “Well, it's embarrassing to me,” he replied. Finally he shrugged again. “What the hell. You've come all this way; you might as well have your answer.” He paused. “I tried to buy it because I thought it was a way of putting my demons to rest.”
    “I do not understand.”
    “It's going to seem crazy to you,” he said, “but even though I'd never met the woman in the painting, somehow I started to believe that she was real, that someday I would meet her.” He shifted uncomfortably. “I suppose I was even a little bit in love with her.”
    “It does not seem crazy to me,” I said. “Please continue.”
    “Well, it seems crazy to me when I say it,” he replied uneasily. “You know, every time I climbed into a ring or faced a charging animal, I felt that I was proving myself to her, and that if I could just win enough fights and face enough animals, somehow she'd know what I had done.” He grimaced. “So here I sit, a certifiable romantic talking to two strangers about his infatuation with a phantom. Maybe we'd better get back to your flesh and blood woman.”
    “I find phantoms more interesting,” I responded. “Could we talk about her a bit longer?”
    He sighed. “Why not? I don't suppose I can say anything that will make me feel any more foolish than I feel right at this moment.”
    “Do you still dream about her?” I asked.
    “Every night.”
    “Does she ever smile in your dreams?”
    He stared at me curiously for a long moment. “No, she never does,” he said, obviously surprised at my question. “She always has this sad expression on her face, like... ” His voice trailed off.
    “Like what?”
    “Like she's searching for something. Something important to her.”
    “Has she ever appeared to you when you were awake?”
    “I told you,” he said irritably, “she's just an image of some woman who lived centuries ago. No, not even that; she's my memory of an artist's conception of her.” He stared curiously at me. “Why are you so interested in her?”
    “She is alive,” I replied.
    “She can't be!”
    “She is alive,” I repeated. “And I believe that she will soon appear on Solitaire.”
    “It can't be the same woman,” said Kobrynski firmly.
    “It is.”
    He laughed suddenly. “You're crazier than I am.”
    “I am not crazy,” I said. “I believe she will appear here soon— and when she does it is imperative that I be allowed to speak to her.”
    “You've actually seen her?”
    “We have,” interjected Heath.
    “It must be someone who looks like her,” said Kobrynski. “She'd be more than six hundred years old.”
    “More than eight thousand years, actually,” I said.
    “Then it can't be the same woman,” repeated Kobrynski.
    “She's not exactly a normal woman,” said Heath wryly.
    “No alien ever looked like that,” said Kobrynski.
    “She's not an alien, either,” said Heath.
    “So she's not a woman and she's not an alien,” said Kobrynski. “What is she?”
    “I don't know,” admitted Heath.
    Kobrynski turned to me. “What do you think she is?”
    “A phantom,” I replied.
    “A phantom?” he repeated.
    “She has appeared to many men over the millennia,” I explained. “She is drawn to those who court her. The library computer on Far London has confirmed that you will be the next man that she visits.”
    “Then your library computer is missing a couple of chips,” said Kobrynski. “I've never met her. How the hell could I court her?”
    “By continually entering life-threatening situations,” I replied.
    “Then you've come to the wrong place. They're fighting wars all over the galaxy; there are soldiers who are risking their lives ten times a day.”
    “She is drawn to men who voluntarily risk their lives with no thought of