Mephisto, The Wandering Pianist

The address on the note led me to Theatre Alley, a slice of the station dedicated to street performers, actors, musicians, and night shows. I took a magnetic train to get there. The tram itself must have been a part of the titan’s old transportation network.

Off to the side, in an alley away from the main road, was a short staircase. A heavy iron door and a bell sat at the bottom. I rang. A fashionable young man dressed in a tuxedo opened the door and greeted me. I smelled herbs, cocktails, and I heard the melodies of a grand piano from within.

The young man asked for my name. I mentioned that I was here to see Diane. He nodded and ushered me inside. The restaurant was dim. A handful of faint orange lamps penetrated the darkness, revealing wooden countertops and old fashioned antique chairs planted upon fur carpets. I spotted Diane sitting near the center of the room. She swirled a glass in her hand, staring blankly at the handsome pianist drowning himself in his piano. I recognized him.

“Enjoying the performance?” I whispered.

“He relies too much on rubato,” Diane replied. “I can’t hear the composer’s original music with this one.”

“Is that a critique?” I asked. “Do you know who he is?”

“Enlighten me.”

“You’ve never heard of Mephisto? The Wandering Pianist?”

“All the more reason to hate him,” Diane grumbled. “What pianist gets a fancy title like that? Wandering pianist. Pfft. You know, back in the day, probably every pianist was wandering around in some way.”

“Did you bring me here to complain?”

“No,” Diane sat up and handed me a paper menu. “Do you drink?”

“I thought you asked for everyone to stay sharp.”

“I also told everyone to have fun,” Diane rolled her eyes. “Fine. Suit yourself.”

I snatched the menu out of her hands.

“That’s better,” Diane smiled and sipped on her wine. “So?”

“So what?”

“I called you here because I figured you had questions. Deep, burning questions that maybe you wanted answers to? Was I wrong?”

If that’s what she was offering, then I was going to ask the most pressing question first.

“Fine. Why does Ulysses need me?”

“Politics,” Diane answered. “He figures your position in the Caerleon hierarchy is high enough to negotiate with the imperials.”

“Negotiate? For what?”

“Now that, I don’t know. I have my suspicions, of course, but you’re not asking the right questions, Elaine.”

“You’re not giving me a lot of rope, Diane.”

“Excuse me,” the young man from earlier interrupted us. “Did you decide on something to drink, ma’am?”

I hadn’t, but I perused the menu and picked the first item that seemed appealing. In the background, Mephisto finished another piece to light applause.

“I’ll have the Brigandine, please.”

“Excellent choice,” Diane said. “Their marinated cherries are delicious.”

“Back on topic. What questions should I be asking?”

“What Ulysses wants with you is irrelevant,” Diane explained. “In the same way that what I want from you is ultimately irrelevant. The real question is, what do you want? What should you be doing at this particular moment in time?”

“I should be stowing myself on the next freighter out of here.”

“Perhaps,” Diane shrugged. “But then again, we both know you don’t actually want that. That’s just a rebellious impulse.”

“If you know me so well, then what do I want?”

“That’s on you to answer,” she said. “What I can tell you is how to get there.”

“Which means?”

“Keep serving aboard Nightwing,” she said. “You want a corvette that will take you where you want to go? Nightwing. Do you want the power to challenge any obstacle? Nightwing again. Something is changing in this universe, Elaine. Ulysses’s fixation on you is just the start. Nightwing will be at the center of it. I promise you.”

“I don’t get it,” I sighed. “Ulysses, maybe I understand. But now you’re insisting I stay with you. What’s your motive here?”

“A fair question,” Diane nodded. “Unfortunately, this is a question which answers itself with time. The way I see it, Elaine, you have several options. You can, in your own words, take the next cargo ship out of here, or a frigate or light fighter of your choosing. You can stumble around the galaxy for the rest of your life, a wanted exile by the Caerleon Imperium. Or, you stay aboard Nightwing, and I show you how different the galaxy looks behind her.”

Clap.

Clap.

Clap.

From behind us, the wandering pianist, Mephisto, approached. Tall, slender, with an all black tuxedo. He was difficult to see in the dark.

“What a rousing plea,” Mephisto cooed. “Oh it’s lovely to see you as always, Captain Lunova. And of course, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Elaine Greymoor. I believe we’ve crossed paths but have never formally introduced ourselves.”

Mephisto held out his palm. A circlet with a horned goat as its insignia rested on his ring finger. I instinctively offered my hand, upon which he planted a kiss. Anxiety swept through me again. It was that same eerie sensation during the battle. I felt sweat bursting from my brow. I saw Nightwing hovering over the sea. Clear skies. The strange card strapped to Diane’s necklace bounced in the wind.

“My apologies,” Mephisto stepped back. “I was not aware you would be so starstruck.”

“Maybe she’s not starstruck Mephisto. Maybe she’s disgusted, like all the other royal women you’ve tried to court.”

I looked at Diane, who crossed her arms and stared at her wine glass.

“You know him?” I asked her. “Why did you pretend otherwise?”

That wasn’t the right question again, I realized. How did Mephisto know her?

“Oh she loves to play these little games,” the pianist whispered. “She–”

“What do you want?” Diane asked.

“To say hello to old friends, new ones,” Mephisto looked at me. “I haven’t seen the captain in years. Imagine my surprise that you appeared at my venue tonight. It must be fate, don’t you think?”

“Or a stroke of bad luck,” Diane muttered.

“All the same to me,” he said. “Is Miss Hirokawa still with you?”

“Yes.”

“Pure devotion. I love it,” Mephisto closed his eyes like he was entranced to music. “Such a rich, human emotion, to pour everything you have into something you will inevitably lose. Lady Greymoor, have you too pledged yourself in service to the captain?”

“She’s undecided,” Diane spoke for me. “You’re crossing the line, Mephisto.”

“Am I?” He raised an eyebrow. “And what about you? And the others in our little club with feckless ambition? You still have a debt to pay, Captain Lunova. When will that be settled?”

“All things will be settled in time,” she replied. “Are we done here, or are you going to spew more cryptic nonsense at the two of us?”

Mephisto gestured towards the door.

“You are of course free to leave,” he bowed. “It was a pleasure meeting you in person, Lady Greymoor. It’s a shame Prince Arthur does not understand what he has given up.”

That last comment struck me like a hidden back hand.

“Crossing. The. Line,” Diane repeated. “Let’s go Elaine.”

Diane rushed us out of the bar. The wandering pianist bowed and waved. Once we were outside, Diane rubbed her shoulders. I realized she was shivering.

“I should not have taken you there,” she gasped. “Let’s return to the ship.”

“Wait a moment,” I stopped. “That was all kinds of fucking weird. What the hell was that all about?”

“Mephisto and I go a long way back,” she explained. “But it’s not what you think. We had an appointment today. Earlier. Before you came. He’s an informant.”

“Mephisto,” I gawked. “The renowned pianist is an informant? For the Sunless Fleet? A spy in the Caerleon Imperium?”

“More like an informant for the highest bidder. But if you want to know how we knew where you were going,” Diane said, “now you know. If that’s all, then let us return to the ship, yes?”

But that wasn’t everything. Diane’s conversation with Mephisto veered one-sided, like she had been cornered like some caged animal, and the wandering pianist was her conniving captor. It was unlike her.

“You’re not telling me something. What was that about a debt?”

“Are you just a wellspring of stupid questions?” Diane snapped. “The Caerleon military thinks I’m dead. I have their most valued military hardware in my possession. What debts could I possibly have?”

She heaved a weary sigh.

“Look,” she continued. “He’s an unpleasant character. Meeting him here has triggered unwelcome memories. You can ask me all sorts of questions later. For now, let’s just get back to the ship.”

The wristband strapped on my hand rumbled. Diane tapped its surface, and a message flashed upon a luminescent screen. Ulysses was its sender. Diane looked at me.

“Looks like shore leave will be over soon anyway.”