Mother of the Night

Black shadow mantled the stand of Lebanon cedar. A darker shadow stood alone there in the dark, hidden––mouth dry, heart beating just a little fast.

Almaak’s twin glories cruised just above the horizon––one yellow, with its hot purple companion trailing a few degrees behind. Their failing light stained the imported Saint Augustine turf a troubling bluish-black. The avenues of Menes City began their soft party glow, lighting the way for twilight travelers.

There was a saying in Menes that a woman could walk nude at midnight through its streets. She might catch cold but no one feared the night in Menes.

The shadow smiled grimly at that. He had not hunted these streets as yet. He would teach them about fear.

His new play-toy had just stepped out of the library into a warm evening breeze. She was a tiny lady, slim and delicate, not much over a hundred-fifty centimeters. The pale skin seemed almost bloodless against the night black of her hair. The outsize brim of the hat she carried made her seem even smaller––sun sensitive skin, probably.

The little doll-like face was so innocent. She was just so thoroughly sweet and precious––just yanked his chains. Playtime was going to be so very special this evening.

This one really had a special hold on him. She was a little bit older than his usual fare––probably a teener. She had all the other points, though.

He had been wooing this little honey-cake for weeks, and he knew just about everything about her that could ever matter.

The girl was a new student at the U., and with no real friends he could see. She knew a lot of people, but always seemed to keep them at a distance. Certainly there were no men in her life. That would have knocked her off the list right away.

She had a really strange name: Yeri’kaan’noreyusa––something like that. It was not a proper Terran name––probably from one of the old godless pagan colonies. He heard her say it a couple of times when he had gotten up close in the coffee shop. Her accent was pretty weird––lilting, musical, and unpleasant. Something about her voice always gave him a headache. Most people seemed to just call her Yeri. She had heard her tell a fellow student that it meant "A Stillness in the Night" in her language, whatever that was.

There had been some kind of accident out in space and one of the Trader Family Ships found her. They dumped her off here in Menes City. She didn’t have any idea where her home world was.

And that was all just so too sad. No one was going to miss this little tramp. She was a freebie.

Now, here they were. And what an exhilarating future lay before her––-foreshortened perhaps. Yet the richness of her experiences would far out pace those of the common bleating herd around her.

The girl stepped down the stairs of the library. She paused at the bottom, glancing up at the battered blue face of Ophelia, the largest of the five moons. She smiled, and the tip of her tongue flicked briefly––as though tasting the breeze. Then she walked off towards the dorms.

He had watched her play out this same routine for a week now and she was always alone on this little journey. As usual, she would walk along the paved pathway winding through the Arboretum Precinct.

Now there was a truly weird place: full of plants from a hundred different worlds. Some of them were said to be sentient and actually held franchise as Imperial Citizens. Such things had no business being alive in his world.

She was right on schedule and he slipped off into the night after her.

There had been so many of these little trysts over the years. He did not consider himself a particularly complicated person. He had no use for pharmaceutical delights or the electronic fancy passion stims. His needs were simple. There seemed so little time. Nevertheless, he did try to make sure he picked up at least one quarry a month, wherever he was. It was such an innocent little hobby. Society was certainly not hurt. Humans hardly qualified as an endangered species. These were just kids anyway. And really, let us be sensible here; there were untold billions of the little creatures.

The police completely misunderstood the nature of his unique contribution to civilization. He fulfilled Nature’s plan, stalking the night, the lonely wolf culling the weak, etc., and so forth. Occasionally they got in the way; but then again, that just added a little spice to the course.

The girl stepped onto the walkway that led into the shadow of the trees.

Click, click, click. The heels of her shoes tapped rapidly on the ceram of the walkway. Now what was a little woman like her doing in three-centimeter spike heels? They were black too, he thrilled––deep shiny black. She sure wasn’t going to be doing any running in those. He didn’t see how she could even walk. He would keep those little black shoes––when he was done with her.

He could hear her in the distance, tapping down the walk. He slipped into place behind some kind of purple flowering bush. The blooms looked like fresh blood under Ophelia’s blue glare.

The shoes were still coming his way. He didn’t want to take her just yet. He just wanted her to know that she was being hunted, and how completely helpless she was.

He had put the walk lights out earlier in the evening with an old compressed air pellet gun he found in an antique shop. There would be no energy traces. He had supercooled some water ice for pellets––another little mystery for the keepers tending this menagerie.

As she clipped by in the dark of the garden walk, he jumped out from behind his bush for the first feinting attack. He threw in a ghoulish howl for effect as he saw her start to turn. The moon caught the pale contrast of her face with the brilliant black of her lips. Where did these kids get their crazy ideas about makeup? He didn’t quite catch sight of her eyes. Somehow, he found that disturbing.

The pace of the clicking heels picked up. Anxiety would be turning to panic. He chuckled aloud, hoping she would hear. Silently, he cut across the grass to the next loop in the walk. This was getting to be fun.

Ah, here she was again, coming up on his position. He had known that she would come this way. There would be no one to help her there at this time of night.

Here she was. Right on schedule. He sprang out from behind the tree, tearing at her throat.

And...she was gone. The mouse was not in the house! He knew he hadn’t missed her! He couldn’t have. What?

She was six meters away now and he had the queasy feeling that there was something wrong with the picture––something he should have seen.

The eyes! He had not seen her eyes. She had looked right at him, but he couldn’t remember the eyes at all.

She vanished somewhere just ahead of him. All he could hear was the clicking of her heels.