Kali's Daughter

Tina Alexander was unusual among assassins -- she killed only those she felt deserved to die. To date, this included twenty-three men and four women. She didn't like killing anyone, but she had agreed that the crimes and atrocities committed by these people condemned them to death.

Tina told everyone she didn't believe in God, or even an afterlife -- but secretly she favored the goddess Kali, and liked to think of herself as Kali's handmaiden. Removing players from the game for unnecessary roughness.

'They' were on her trail, and she knew it was a matter of ever-shortening time until they caught up with her. So she was back in her native California, but even now she could feel them getting nearer, sniffing out her trail like cheap-suited bloodhounds. Financially, she didn't have to worry for years; but she felt instinctively that she only had weeks or months remaining.

She left Dark Carnival, the fantasy bookstore, and saw the business card posted in the window. It was shiny black, and the writing was in white. There was a name, Annalisa Solnikov, and below it a telephone number and the words in script, I can grant your fondest desire. Beside the name was a small red heart with a lightning bolt through it. Tina wasn't the greatest believer in heart's desires. That was why it never occurred to her to ask Annalisa Solnikov to save her from the F.B.I. and Interpol. And at thirty-four, it could hardly be said she'd lived a long and comfortable life. Still, she'd been a paid assassin since the age of eighteen, when someone spotted her winning every prize at the California State Fair and recruited her to 'take out' a Cuban drug kingpin. Lately, though, it seemed as if the whole industry was getting to be a bore. Nobody had asked her to get Randall Terry, or Saddam Hussain, or any of the people who really needed to die.

***

Annalisa was a small, blond, heavily-built woman who favored bright colors. Her pale hair was in one of those 'beautiful people' bobs that turned under just above her shoulders. They sat in the living room of her Berkeley house and drank lemon and honey tea.

Now she was frowning down at the 'personal item' she had asked Tina to bring with her. It was a sterling silver Paloma Picasso pin that Tina wore on all her jackets and some dresses. "You've never been married, I see."

"No. In my line of work, I travel so much there was never time to form a lasting attachment."

"But I sense this is not your heart's desire. You are in danger. From men with a large amount of power. You wish me to protect you from them?"

"I doubt you could do that; and if you knew why they're after me, you probably wouldn't want to try."

"Don't assume I haven't guessed your secret. Remember, this pin goes nearly everywhere with you, Handmaiden of Kali."

"The men who are tracking me are the law."

Annalisa seemed unperturbed by this. "I know. Do you feel that even one of the people you've 'taken out' didn't deserve to die?"

"They all deserved to -- sometimes I think they got off too easily, going so quickly. But in the eyes of the law, I'm a murderer many times over. That's why I came...for the one dream I've always had, before it's too late."

Annalisa frowned again. "Strange, but I don't have any idea what your dream is."

Tina laughed. "Maybe because I've always kept it a secret. I've been taking lessons since I was five -- that's one advantage of living in a lot of different places -- I've studied with some of the greatest teachers in the world. I've always wanted to be a ballet dancer."

Annalisa blinked. Tina was the right size and build for a ballet dancer. She even had the long, pale blond hair that was frequently associated with dancers and artists. "And are you a good dancer?"

"I was told I could have been a prima, when I was a teenager. But I didn't believe it, and I had seen so many people disappointed because there were so few good spots. And then, the career is so very short. Lately, the rules have changed somewhat, and the really good dancers are continuing on into their forties."

"And now you want to do this, even though you might only have a few years left?"

Tina laughed at this. "Oh, no! I don't have even one year left! And to think I was stupid enough to worry about a career choice that might be short! I have no intention of allowing anyone to take me prisoner." She removed a pendant on a chain from inside her sweater. With a slight twist, the silver ball came apart, revealing some off-white powder in the bottom half of the ball. "Poison. Very quick-acting -- there's one man after me who would save me if he could, just to assure me the gas chamber or a lifetime in prison. I will outwit him, at the end. But as I said, I only have a little while left, and I'd like to dance the lead in Swan Lake. Just once, with The San Francisco Ballet."

"Well, you don't have small dreams, I'll say that for you. Why didn't you choose The Bolshoi?" Annalisa asked drily. "Because it's too far away!" They both laughed. "Seriously, I don't expect it to happen..."

"Then why did you come to see me?"

Tina shrugged. "Perhaps I just wanted to tell my dream to someone before...you know."

"Well, it's a strange thing about dreams. You never know which ones are ridiculous and which might actually come true." ***

Tina watched him practicing, thinking he was the most beautiful man she'd ever seen, the most graceful, the most tautly muscular...she'd never be able to dance with him. He stopped and turned, throwing his chestnut hair away from his forehead. "Hello -- can I help you?"

"I'm Tina Alexander. Are you Dmitri Clarke?"

The man laughed. "Do you mean to tell me you've never seen the 'divine' Dmitri dance? I can hardly credit it. No, I'm Mick Chamberlain. The choreographer. Glad you're here, Tina Alexander."

Tina nodded. Annalisa had told her to use her real name, and even though Tina thought it was crazy to lead them to her so soon, the psychic had done the impossible and Tina was afraid if she didn't obey every last little rule, the whole thing would turn back into a pumpkin. "Yes -- I'm sorry. But no, I haven't seen the 'divine' Dmitri. I've been living in Amsterdam for the past several years, and just returned to this country last month."

Mick crossed the room to her, grabbing a towel off the back of a wooden chair and draping it around his neck. He held out his hand to her, and the grip was just firm enough without being overbearing. "I read your resume, and the director of the Royal Netherlands Ballet telephoned me. You come with very high credentials, Ms. Alexander. I'm only sorry I haven't seen you dance yet, myself."

"Dance with me now." Tina had stopped wondering just how Annalisa worked her miracles; whether they were cons or bullshit, or the genuine thing, for her it didn't matter. "I have my practice gear in the bag."

Mick raised one eyebrow. His eyes were a strange color, a sort of grayish-green that looked like a murky swamp. Tina gave herself a mental shake and told her libido to calm down -- this wasn't what she was here for.

Annalisa had a strange system of payment. She told Tina to pay her 'whatever her heart's desire' was worth. Tina knew her money in the Caiman Islands would just sit there after her death, accruing interest until somebody somewhere discovered she was gone and absorbed the whole into the bank's mighty maw. So without looking at the total (it was somewhere around $40,000, she thought), she gave the order to transfer the whole of it into Annalisa's name. Then she sent her the transfer slip.

"It's an unconventional way of auditioning, but the fact is we're desperate for a replacement prima. And I understand you've danced the Swan several times before."

"Yes; once in Amsterdam and twice with The Royal Danish Ballet on a loan exchange."

***

Dmitri Clarke tapped his dancing slipper on the floor and glared around at the assembled company. "So, where is this new prima I've heard so much about? Mick's been talking about nothing else for three days, but still I haven't even seen her. You'd think the star of the company would have some voice in the making of major decisions."

"You'd think the star of the company would realize his job is to dance, not hire talent," one of the dancers muttered to another. When Dmitri glared at her, she lifted her chin and grinned at him.

Further hostilities were avoided by the entrance of Tina and Mick. "Attention, everyone!" Mick called out in his low, cheerful voice. "This is Tina Anderson."

Tina smiled around at the crowd, and her eyes lit on Dmitri. As if she could feel his antagonism, she went directly toward him. "You must be Dmitri Clark. I've heard so much about you. I can't tell you how pleased I am to be dancing with you." Dmitri seemed to warm up a little. "You've never seen me dance? And I've never seen you. Should be interesting, don't you think?"

"An experience memories are made of -- for me, at least." She held out her hand. Dmitri took hold of it and, instead of shaking it, kissed it.

"She's thawed him out, all right," the same woman whispered to the one standing next to her. "She'll be his next conquest, I suppose."

But the second woman was watching Mick, and how quickly he moved in to pre-empt Dmitri's grasp on Tina. "I don't think so -- this time, I think he's been beaten out by Mick."

***

Mick watched every move for the tiniest flaw. This was the night they had been working for -- the night of the biggest benefit of the year. If the quality of the ballet was an indicator, they should do well. Tina danced as if this was the last time she'd ever put on the toe shoes, as if her very life depended on the applause. The draperies of the swan fluttered around her, and Mick felt the same stirrings for her that he'd felt since the day they met. Beyond a few kisses he'd held off, though what he really wanted to do was snatch her up and carrying her off to his little house on Nob Hill. He was certain she felt the same -- at least, she seemed to prefer his company to any of the other men around. Maybe there was someone else; someone who hadn't shown up yet -- maybe he was even in the audience, and after the show he'd come backstage to congratulate her and bear her off with him.

At intermission Tina came and hugged him, telling him he had made her dream come true. He assured her that she was the one who would make all their dreams of a successful season come true. Perhaps she'd stay with the company, which would certainly be difficult with two primas, but Mick would make it work somehow. She hadn't mentioned going back to Amsterdam.

Somehow Mick got through the evening without overloading, and the ballet ended to a standing ovation. Tina and Dmitri made three curtain calls, and she came off the stage carrying an enormous armful of roses. "Mick! It was wonderful, wasn't it? I must go and change for the reception -- could you help me with my flowers?"

"And your costume, if you'd like." He dared that much, and when she smiled at him in a blinding and, he hoped, provocative manner, he took the flowers and they made their way through the already crowded backstage.

Tina removed one long-stemmed pink rose and broke off part of the stem, pinning it onto the label of his tuxedo jacket. "You look so handsome tonight, you really need a flower in your buttonhole."

"What am I supposed to put the rest of the flowers in? Oh, I know -- I'll just pop over to the props room and find something. I'll be back in a minute."

Tina went to remove her costume behind the changing screen. "All right, Mick. I want you to be the first to see my gorgeous new dress -- I had it made especially for tonight."

When Mick returned with the vase, he was surprised to see two men at the door of Tina's dressing room. One knocked, and he came up to them before she could open the door. "May I help you, gentlemen? Miss Alexander will be available for the press at the reception."

The door opened just as one of the men flashed Mick a very official-looking badge. "Burnside, F.B.I. This is Johnson. Are you Tina Alexander, ma'am?"

Tina was now dressed in a stupendous dress of black cut velvet, embroidered in gold and dark pink roses. It was strapless, and fitted, with a long slit up the back to the middle of her thighs...Mick couldn't appreciate it much, however, since she had turned dead-white above the low-cut bodice and looked like she was going to faint.

"Yes, I am. Please come in." No! Her brain was screaming, echoing around her head until she thought it would explode. Not now -- not when I've finally found someone -- not when I finally care! It isn't fair -- why couldn't you come and get me before I fell in love with him? She stood back so they could enter the small room. Mick crowded in beside them and went to where the roses were lying on the makeup table, jamming them into the water and holding them in front of him, as if they couldn't ask him to leave if he had flowers in his hands.

One of the men looked at her closely, frowning. "Miss Tina Alexander, of #14 Dolphin Towers, San Francisco?"

"Yes, Mr. Burnside. I am the Tina Alexander you're looking for. Oh!" Stop it! Stop bouncing off my skull and reminding me how much I have to lose, now -- it's over! Don't torture me, hopes and dreams -- get the hell out!

Tina doubled over as if she was in pain. The two men exchanged puzzled looks, and Mick realized she couldn't breathe. He rushed to her side. "Tina, what is it?" She collapsed in his arms, unconscious. He carried her to the old sofa along one wall of the room. "Shit -- something's happened to her! Go out into the corridor and call 911!"

One of the men -- Mick thought it was the one called Johnson -- went outside. The other came to stand beside Tina. "What happened to her?"

"I don't know -- her breathing is so shallow and ragged. What do you want her for?"

"Nothing, as it happens." When Mick looked up at him in disbelief, Burnside shrugged. "We've been tracking a woman named Tina Alexander for two years. When we discovered she'd bought a condo in Dolphin Towers, we were certain we had 'er. Apparently, we were wrong." He reached into his jacket and removed a photograph. He handed it to Mick. It was of a young woman with a wide, unattractive face. Her nose was flat and broad, her eyes small and dark. Her hair was dark, also, and her lips thin and nasty-looking.

Mick looked up. "This is the Tina Alexander you've been looking for?"

Burnside nodded in disgust. "It looks as if she somehow tricked us again. Not even plastic surgery could make her look like this." He gestured at Tina.

"Couldn't you tell that from the audience?"

"We arrived after the intermission, and they wouldn't let us in. I'm sorry. I hope Miss Alexander will be all right -- we didn't mean to frighten her."

Mick wondered why she had been so frightened, since the F.B.I. men weren't even looking for her.

***

Mick watched the ambulance pull away with Tina in the back, and hated himself for not being in there with her. She looked so frail, tubes trailing out of her and her shoulders white above that dress. That beautiful dress, the one she had been waiting to wear, now seemed ludicrous and almost obscene. And he had to endure at least an hour of the press reception -- they were probably wondering where he was. He straightened his tuxedo jacket and headed back into the opera house, wishing this night was over. Wishing it had never happened, triumph or not. If there had never been this performance, would Tina be all right? He arrived at the hospital the following morning, to find a confused doctor awaiting him. "What is it, doc?" He asked. "Will she be all right? What happened?"

"Ms. Alexander had a heart seizure."

Mick's mouth fell open ludicrously. "She's not even forty!" "Come with me, Mr. Chamberlain; I'd like to show you something." The doctor led the way into his office, where he showed Mick something that looked like an x-ray. "This is Ms. Alexander's heart. She was born with an Atrial Septal Defect. It was operated on when she was still very young, in order to close the valve opening. During last night's performance, she tore it open. It's not possible this young woman has been a professional ballet dancer all these years. There is evidence that she was a dancer, but a professional...no way."

"But she is! She was! She came to us from the Royal Netherlands Ballet, where she was the prima. Uh...what's an Atrial what's-it?"

"A heart murmur. Something she did last night caused her to have the heart attack. Something onstage?"

"I thought it was those two clowns from the F.B.I. They were looking for some woman named Tina Alexander who was a hired hit woman, and they thought it was our Tina. Until they saw her -- boy, the woman they were lookin' for was butt ugly." "This wasn't caused by a fright, Mr. Chamberlain. She tore open the heart muscle."

"The leap. It must've been the stag leap -- I've never seen anything like it. Much further and higher than when we were rehearsing. Surprised Dmitri so much he almost forgot to follow 'er. In fact, it took him two leaps to catch 'er. Will she be able to dance again?"

The doctor shook his head. "It was a miracle she's been able to do it up until now."

"Can I see 'er? Will she be all right?"

"We don't know yet. She's in the I.C.U. I'm afraid you'll have to wait, unless you're related to her."

"Not yet, though I was planning on it. I don't know if she has any family, either. I brought her purse with me, so the hospital would have some information about her. Of course, our insurance will cover the costs."

The doctor nodded. "You can talk to the nurse in registration about that. Why don't you give me a call later today?"

Mick nodded. "Thanks, doc." He wandered in the direction of the elevators, looking for Tina's wallet and her driver's license. As he lifted the wallet out of the purse, a business card fell to the floor.

Mick frowned, but put the card into his pocket. When he arrived home that night he took the little card out and looked at it again. I can grant your fondest desire...

***

Annalisa handed Mick a cup of lemon tea and sat beside him on the couch. "You brought me a personal object?" She asked. He handed her a pink rose, now pressed and nearly dried.

"This is yours, but it belongs to another as well. I see she is very ill, and you care for her deeply."

"You can save her life?"

"Your desire is for Tina to live? You know she will never dance again -- that was her last dance."

"Yes. My desire is for her live -- no matter what the circumstance."

Annalisa smiled. "That was the right answer, Mr. Chamberlain. Go to Tina, and you will find her in a room of her own at the hospital. She must be careful, but she will live many long and happy years as your wife."

"What do you charge for miracles?"

"You will decide the right payment for your heart's desire, and bring or send it when the time is right." Only after he left the psychic's house did Mick realize he had never told her Tina's name, or the fact she was a dancer. Or even that she was lying ill in the hospital...