Santiago: A Myth of the Far Future (32 page)

“What if he’s been delayed and I
bump into your friend first?” she replied. “Do you really want to be stuck up
here in a room that has only one exit?”

“You’ve got a point,” he admitted
begrudgingly, following her to the door.

They descended to the lobby, which
was considerably more crowded as dinnertime approached, and Virtue quickly
scanned the faces that were assembled there.

“Is he here yet?” asked the
gambler.

“No.”

“Then what do we do?”

“We wait,” she said.

“What if somebody has killed him?”
asked Terwilliger, a blind panic starting to overwhelm him.

“If someone has killed the Angel,
you’d better get down on your knees and start saying your prayers,” said
Virtue, “because I guarantee you that Judgment Day is at hand. Now stop
shaking, and try not to wet your pants.”

Terwilliger was too busy peering
through the lobby windows into the darkened street beyond to make any reply.

“You can relax now,” said Virtue a
moment later as the Angel walked through the doorway. “He’s arrived.”

Terwilliger exhaled loudly with
relief, and she wondered idly just how long he had been holding his breath.

“Did you learn anything useful?”
she asked as the Angel crossed the lobby and approached her.

“A bit,” he said noncommittally.
“I’ll have to see one more man tomorrow.” He paused. “Who’s your friend?”

“Halfpenny Terwilliger.”

“Is he the one I spotted at the spaceport?”

“Yes. He works for Sebastian
Cain.”

The Angel stared at Terwilliger
and said nothing.

“Well, actually, that’s not an
operative statement,” said the gambler nervously. “My services are currently on
the open market.”

“Good luck with them,” said the
Angel. “Now go away.”

“What?” demanded Terwilliger.

“I know all about you. You’re a
crooked gambler who hooked up with Cain on Port étrange and left him on Altair
Three. You have nothing that I want.”

Virtue turned to Terwilliger.
“Sorry,” she said.

“Now just a minute!” he shouted,
drawing stares from all over the lobby. “We had a deal! I kept my end of it.
Now he’s got to protect me!”

“Any deal you made, you made with
her,
” said the Angel in level tones.

“No!” said Terwilliger
desperately. “I need
you!
”

The Angel stared at him silently.

“Don’t you understand?” said
Terwilliger. “ManMountain Bates is coming here to kill me!”

“Not without cause, or so I’ve
been told,” said the Angel.

The gambler turned to Virtue. “You
get him to protect me, or I’ll tell him what you had me do.”

“He might be useful to us, after
all,” said Virtue carefully.

“I gather he’s already been useful
to you,” replied the Angel dryly. “He is of absolutely no use to me.”

“I can tell you things about
Cain,” said Terwilliger urgently. “Where he’s been, where he’s going, things
like that.”

“I already know where he’s been
and where he’s going.”

“I can tell you where Santiago
is!”

“You don’t know where Santiago
is,” replied the Angel. “Now go away.”

“But I—”

Suddenly Terwilliger froze, his
eyes fixed on the hotel’s doorway. There was an awed murmuring throughout the
lobby, and Virtue and the Angel turned to see the cause of the commotion.

Standing just outside the door was
a huge mountain of a man. His shaggy brown mane swirled down to his shoulders,
his teeth gleamed white through his thick beard, and his blue eyes glared
balefully at Halfpenny Terwilliger. He was dressed in a handmade outfit
composed entirely of the cured pelts of animals he had killed with his bare
hands, and his boots, except for the steel heels, were also made of animal
skins.

“I want
you!
”
bellowed ManMountain Bates, pointing his finger at Terwilliger.

The desk clerk quickly touched his
computer panel, and the thick front door slid shut.

“You’ve got to help me!” pleaded
Terwilliger.

“You got yourself into this
situation,” said the Angel. “Get yourself out.”

Terwilliger began cursing in
frustration and terror, his eyes glued to the door. There was a sudden thudding
noise, which was repeated at regular intervals of about five seconds apiece,
and he knew that ManMountain Bates was attempting to hammer the door down with
his fists.

“Can’t you do
some
thing?”
asked Virtue.

“There’s no paper on him,” replied
the Angel emotionlessly.

The door began buckling, and a
moment later it caved in entirely. The customers and staff scuttled for
positions of safety as Bates entered the room.

“I’m ManMountain Bates!” he
roared. “My father was a whirlwind and my mother was a lightning bolt! I’m
Leviathan, the great beast of the murky deep!” He began pacing back and forth
in front of the terrified Terwilliger. “I’m half cyclone and half tornado! I’m
Behemoth, the giant hellcat of the Frontier! I was spawned in a supernova and
baptized in a lake of lava! I can outfight and outdrink and outfuck and
outswear any man or alien that was ever born or whelped or hatched!”

Terwilliger, tears running down
his face, turned to the Angel, who had moved a few feet away from him.

“
Please!
”
he whined.

“You think this midget is going to
help you?” demanded Bates. He threw back his huge head and laughed. “Why, I’d
crush him like an insect! I’d bite off his arms and legs and spit out the
bones!”

The Angel stared at him with an
expression of mild interest but made no comment.

“I’ve traveled half the galaxy to
find you, you skinny little worm!” shouted Bates, turning his attention back to
Terwilliger. “I’ve gone without food and without sleep and without women, just
waiting for this moment.”

He reached out with surprising
swiftness for so large a man and grabbed the gambler by the front of his tunic,
pulling him close.

“Now you’re going to learn what
happens to anyone who thinks he can cheat ManMountain Bates!”

He lifted Terwilliger high above
his head with a single hand.

“Virtue!” wailed the gambler. “For
God’s sake, make him
do
something!”

The Angel watched, expressionless,
as Bates wrapped his immense arms around Terwilliger and squeezed. There was a
single agonized shriek, followed by a sharp cracking noise, and then Bates
threw the gambler’s lifeless body onto the lobby floor.

The huge man glared at the faces
around the room, then placed a foot on Terwilliger’s neck.

“I’m ManMountain Bates, and I’ve
claimed my just and terrible vengeance!” he bellowed defiantly. “Now you’ve all
got something you can tell your grandchildren about!”

He pivoted slowly until he was
facing Virtue and the Angel.

“You!” he thundered, pointing an
enormous finger at her.

“Me?” asked Virtue.

“He called to you,” said Bates.
“Why?”

Virtue tried to formulate an
answer, found that her mouth was too dry to speak, and shrugged.

“He owed me two hundred thousand
credits. What’s your connection to him?”

“I hardly knew him,” she managed
to say.

“Who are you?”

“Oh, nobody very important,” she
said, taking a frightened step backward.

“If I find out that you’ve lied to
me, I’ll be back for you,” he promised.

She swallowed once and nodded.

“Well?” he demanded, turning to
glare at the desk clerk.

“Well what, sir?” asked the man,
his voice shaking.

Bates pointed to the corpse at his
feet. “Aren’t you going to clean this mess up?”

“Yes, sir,” said the clerk,
pressing the Maintenance code on his computer. “Right away, sir.”

“Good. I wouldn’t want people to
think that a classy hotel like this caters to ugly little worms like
that.
” He emphasized the last word by spitting on
Terwilliger’s body, then looked up again. “All right! Everyone go on about your
business.”

Nobody moved.

“I mean
now!
”
he roared.

Suddenly the lobby became a
beehive of activity as people raced for exits and elevators. In another moment
no one was left except Bates, Virtue, the Angel, the desk clerk, and two
recently arrived maintenance men who were preparing to remove the little
gambler’s twisted body.

ManMountain Bates took a couple of
steps toward Virtue and the Angel.

“You, too!” he said. “Get out.”

The Angel began walking toward the
front door.

“I’ve never seen anything like
him!” whispered Virtue. “He’s like some kind of primal force!”

“He talks too much,” said the
Angel.

“I heard that!” said Bates
ominously.

The Angel continued walking, and
Bates strode over, grabbed him by the shoulder, and spun him around.

“Nobody walks out on me when I’m
talking to them,” said Bates, a nasty smile on his face.

The Angel twisted free and met his
gaze.

“I don’t like to be touched,” he
said softly.

“You don’t, eh?” Bates grinned,
laying his hand on the Angel’s shoulder again.

The Angel slapped his hand away.
“No, I don’t.”

Bates suddenly shoved him on the
chest, sending him careening backward into a wall.

“Leave him alone!” said Virtue.
“He hasn’t done anything to you!”

“He insulted me,” said Bates,
taking a menacing step toward the Angel. “Besides, my blood’s up now! There’s
nothing like breaking a back to get a man’s juices flowing.”

“Angel, tell him you’re sorry and
let’s get the hell out of here!” said Virtue desperately, visions of wealth and
fame departing as she imagined the Angel’s body lying in a crumpled heap next
to Terwilliger’s.

“You’re the Angel?” demanded
Bates, a look of uncertainty momentarily flickering across his face.

“That’s right.”

“Then why did you say I talked too
much?”

“Because you do,” replied the
Angel.

“I don’t care who you’ve killed!”
bellowed Bates, suddenly enraged again. “You’re going to apologize, or I’m
going to be known as the man who killed the Angel with his bare hands.”

The Angel stared coldly at him for
a long moment. Finally he spoke.

“I’m sorry that you talk too
much.”

“That’s it!” growled Bates.
“You’re a dead man! There’s going to be one more angel in hell tonight!”

He took two more steps forward and
was within arm’s reach of the Angel.

“You can still stop,” said the
Angel. “There’s no paper on you.”

Bates roared a curse, reached
back, and swung a haymaker at the Angel’s head. The Angel ducked, and the huge
man’s fist went right through the wall. While he was trying to extricate his
hand, the Angel reached forward, made two incredibly quick motions with his
right hand, and stepped aside.

Bates bellowed another curse as he
tried once again to pull his hand out of the wall. Then a curious expression
spread across his face, and he slowly looked down to where his innards were
spilling out through the slash in the front of his coat.

“I don’t believe it!” he muttered,
trying to hold himself together with his free hand.

The Angel retriggered his weapon
to the mechanism hidden beneath his sleeve.

“But I’m ManMountain Bates!”
murmured the giant incredulously, and died.

“My God!” exclaimed Virtue,
staring with morbid fascination at Bates, who still hung from the wall by his
hand. “What did you cut him with?”

“Something sharp,” replied the
Angel calmly. He walked over to the registration desk. “You’d better call the
police,” he said.

“I hit the alarm the second that
guy broke down the door,” answered the clerk, his face pale and sweating.
“They’ll be here any minute now.”

“I trust that you’ll be willing to
testify that I killed him in self-defense,” continued the Angel.

“Absolutely, Mr.... ah ... Mr.
Angel?”

The Angel stared at him for a
moment, then turned to Virtue.

“This was your fault, you know,”
he said.

“Mine?” she repeated.

He nodded. “If you hadn’t promised
Terwilliger that I’d protect him, he wouldn’t have waited around here until
Bates showed up.”

“Then Bates would have killed him
two hundred feet away from here, or half a mile, or at the spaceport,” said
Virtue. “Don’t go blaming me for that.”

“But
I
wouldn’t have had to kill Bates,” explained the Angel patiently. “It was just
wasted effort. He’s not worth a credit anywhere in the Frontier.”

“
That’s
all he represents to you?” said Virtue unbelievingly. “Just a wasted effort? My
God, he was Leviathan himself, just like he said!”

“He was just a man. He bled like
any other.”

The police arrived then, and the
Angel spent the next couple of minutes recounting the events to a very
respectful officer, who had the good sense not to ask him to produce his
passport.

Finally, after he finished making
his statement, and the officer was interviewing the desk clerk, and two more
policemen were trying to remove Bates’s hand from the wall, the Angel walked
over to Virtue once again.

“By the way, exactly what was it
that Terwilliger did for you in exchange for my protection?”

“Nothing.”

“I asked you a question,” he said.
“I expect an answer.”

“He sent a totally unnecessary
message to a man I’m never going to see again,” said Virtue earnestly, staring
in awe at the huge corpse of ManMountain Bates.

“Cain?” he asked.

She turned to him and smiled.

“Who’s Cain?”

Simple Simon
met a pieman going to the fair;

Simple Simon
killed the pieman on the thoroughfare.