* * *

  The room was draped in shadows, the only light coming from an entire wall of regular monitors. Off to the side were multiple holographic workstations displayed in the air from hidden projectors around the room.

  There was a sense of royalty about the room. The carpet was rich with red, and there were large, expensive paintings hidden in the darkness of the walls.

  People were scrambling all over the room to work at different work stations and conversing with each other in low voices.

  A set of stairs led up to a large chair, shaped like a throne, where the Widow Black sat and watched all her worker bees buzz with activity. The throne had numerous small holographic keypads where the Widow could efficiently enter commands to change the work flow of the many people around her.

  Scar entered the dimly lit room, making sure to keep a wide berth around the many people in the room. He made his way across the rich carpet and toward the stairs that would lead to the throne. When one of the workers got too close, Scar couldn’t help snarling at it to keep its distance. The worker looked at him with an impassive face and went about its business. It was their faces that unnerved him the most, Scar concluded. None of the workers had any muscular control of their faces. They were locked in a neutral expression, and couldn’t move their mouths or any other part of their head besides their neck and eyes. As such, they were always turning and looking impassively at things, and it gave Scar the creeps like nothing else in the world. Of course, the reason the workers were like that was because they were androids, built for accomplishing tasks and not for looking realistic.

  Another one got too close, and Scar stared it down. It was a pointless gesture doomed to failure because the android couldn’t even blink its eyes, even if it had facial muscular control, as it had no eye lids.

  “Just get out of the way!” Scar said at last, shoving the android aside and continuing on his way to the throne.

  The android fell over with a clang. All the other androids, noticing their companion had fallen down, immediately stopped what they were doing and turned their lidless eyes to Scar.

  One by one, they left their work and fell into line behind him, closing off his movements and hemming him in toward the throne. As Scar continued his walk, he began to become aware of what was happening, and was stealing glances out of the corner of his eye. As big and strong as he was, he didn’t like the prospect of having to fight down an army of androids. Surely the Widow Black would call them off before they got too far out of line?

  But she wasn’t calling them off. She turned to smile at him with a dangerous gleam in her eye. Scar continued to walk toward the throne and the androids continued to close in on him. They had already completely cut off his way back out. Not that it mattered, Scar never ran from anything, ever.

  He held his head high and walked right up to stand before the Widow Black. The androids moved like zombies, reaching out their grasping hands toward Scar in a slow, methodical precision. He tensed, bent slightly low to the ground and prepared for the onslaught. They might take him down, but he wasn’t going to go without a fight, he would take as many of them with him as he could. He might even lash out at her, if the opportunity presented itself.

  Scar could understand what she was doing; failure could not be tolerated and he had lost a very valuable artifact. He would do the same thing in her place. Even so, he would fight back until he died, and she would probably expect no less.

  Scar and the Widow Black just stared at each other, the unsaid understanding hanging like a serpent between them, ready to strike Scar down at the press of a button. He broke eye contact and looked down at her finger, poised above the holopad button that would bring life back to the androids and a sure death to him.

  For a moment he thought she pressed the button, thought he saw her finger move and a corresponding light emit from the holographic display beneath her hand.

  But nothing happened, and he realized his eyes had played a trick on him. He could feel himself getting jittery, the waiting was becoming too much. If she was going to do it, then let her do it already.

  But that was part of her cruelty, part of the fear she instilled in others. The Widow Black understood that the anticipation was almost always worse than the punishment, and she did her best to make it as much a part of the punishment as it could become.

  Scar forced himself to look back up and meet her cold, hard gaze. Slowly, she moved her hand away from the holopad that controlled the androids. Scar judged the distance between him and the throne. If he wanted, he could try and charge her before she got her hand back near the activation button.

  The Widow Black stood up from her throne and took a step toward Scar and the frozen army of androids around him.

  Scar’s breath caught in his throat. She was well away from her command controls now and there would be nothing she could do in time before he got to her. He was strong, incredibly strong. He had no doubt that he could probably overpower her.

  She continued to walk toward him, the malice evident in her eyes. The throne was well behind her now. The Widow Black walked up to him, almost casually, but brimming with anger. She was delivering a message; she didn’t need her androids to take care of him. It was also an invitation; let him try to attack her if he felt he could, if he dared.

  He hesitated, unsure. Physical power was one thing, but he had no real idea of what she was capable of, he didn’t know what other tricks she could be hiding. In fact, he really didn’t know anything about her at all. The only thing Scar felt he knew for sure was that if he attacked her and failed, it would be the end of him.

  Staring into her cold, dark eyes, Scar wondered if it was already too late.

  The Widow Black lifted her arm and struck him across the face with the back of her hand. Scar stumbled, and had to take a balancing step to keep himself from falling.

  She hit hard, and Scar had to reassess what he thought her strength could be. He could taste the blood in his mouth. Was he willing to risk an all out fight?

  Scar straightened up and met her gaze once more. The moment was over, he was subdued, he wasn’t going to challenge her authority or her power.

  She didn’t say anything, she just looked at him. But the message was clear, the Widow Black was a dangerous woman, far more dangerous than anyone had ever realized. And if Scar valued his life, it was a lesson he would do well to remember.