“Stop right there!”The girl turned around, her jet black hair draping over one mechanized shoulder.
“Sorry, officer, I’ve got some place to be.”
“We’ve hunted you for too long, Nightshade. This time you will not escape.”
Several officers appeared behind the first.
“Then prepare yourself for a fight.”
Nightshade drew her signature Eirian silver blaster.
The two scuffled for some time, until finally, Nightshade forced the officer to his knees.
“Those who resist me never live to say so.”
Bang. A cry, and then—
“No!”
Avalon Jacobs gasped for air as she awoke. The holographic clock shone in her face. August 3, 2345. 3:10 a.m., it read.
How many times had she woken up breathless like this? She’d lost count. She’d once calculated how many crescent moon cycles there were in a year, but she’d forgotten the answer by now. She lay in bed, trying to fall asleep again. But it was futile. She got up and trudged sleepily to the kitchen. She waved her hand over the fridge sensor, and it opened. Right there on the main shelf sat her consolation: a bottle of apple juice. Her father had always given her a sandwich, cookies, and apple juice when she was sad. Somehow, the cool freshness of the juice was soothing.
She poured the juice in a glass and sat down at the breakfast bar. She set the juice down. The dim light from the city lights coming from the window fell on a newspaper on the counter. Mysterious Criminal Nightshade Strikes Again, the headline ran.
Avalon sipped the juice. I can’t take any more of this, she thought. For Nightshade’s rampages were not a figment of her dreams – they were her life.
In fact, that was why she couldn’t sleep most nights. On the nights of the crescent moon every month, she pillaged and murdered as Nightshade from sunset to moonset. Even when she wasn’t doing that, she lost sleep dreading those nights. She had no control over it – it happened no matter how she struggled. Every day she went to work with blood on her hands, and no one knew.
It had been six years since the curse began. For she was sure it was some kind of curse; she would never have chosen such a life. So many nights of her life had been lost to it. She could’ve worked more nights stage managing at the Golden Stag Theatre. As it was, she’d had to tell them she was taking classes at Alu Luna, a famous theatre school run entirely by Lunarissé-made androids. It was said one could only find it on the nights of the crescent moon. Since attendance was haphazard there at best, no one ever bothered to check whether she was really going there.
The old clock on the wall chimed a quarter to four. Was it that late? Avalon started. She had a production meeting the next day. She should get some sleep so she’d be at least functional. She finished the apple juice and put the bottle away.
She walked slowly back toward her room. A letter lying open on the telephone console caught her eye. She picked it up and read.
Dear Avalon,I have received word that I shall be discharged very soon. After all this time fighting, I’m anxious to finally see you again after so many years.
She laid it down. Here was another reason she had to stop the curse. Her father was coming home at last from the Lunarissé-Deimos war. He had been called up to replace a science advisor killed in action. Avalon hadn’t seen her father in over ten years, not since the day he left for a study trip to Mercury. In fact, she hadn’t known for sure he was still alive until six years ago, when she’d seen an article about him in a newspaper. Her mother had told her and her sister that he was dead.
If Avalon was still Nightshade when he came home, her father could be in trouble. If her identity was found out, he could be implicated in her crimes at worst or have his teaching reputation tarnished at best. But, even worse, she might kill him in one of her rages as Nightshade. It wasn’t impossible. When she was Nightshade, she was une belle dame sans merci, as the old text said. She spared no one who could be a threat.Finally, she reached her bedroom and flopped down on the bed. She gripped the comforter nervously.
“Papa, can you hear me?” she whispered. The rest of the familiar chorus rushed out into her head.
Papa, can you see me?Papa, can you find me in the night?
If only her father was here. He’d know what to do. For now, all Avalon could do was hope sleep would come so she wouldn’t be a zombie at the meeting the next day.
