Santiago: A Myth of the Far Future (38 page)

“God can be very understanding,”
answered Father William.

“Is He equally understanding of
all the people who lied to me this morning?”

“Nobody lied to you, Sebastian.”

“More than a dozen men told me
that they had never heard of Santiago.”

“
Almost
nobody,” amended Father William.

“When is he due to show up?” asked
Cain.

“Who?”

“Santiago.”

Father William chucked. “You’re
letting your imagination run away with you, Sebastian.”

“I thought we were going to talk,”
said Cain.

“We’re talking right now,” said
the preacher.

“One of us is talking,” Cain
corrected him. “And one of us is still lying.”

Father William smiled. “You’re
lucky I’m on vacation, Sebastian. I’ve taken men’s scalps for less than that.”
His smile vanished. “However, I wouldn’t press my luck if I were you.”

“Am I to assume that our
conversation is over?” asked Cain caustically.

“Not at all,” said Father William,
rising to his feet. “But I think we’ll continue it over lunch. I’m famished!”

He walked across the unpaved
street to the tavern, and Cain fell into step beside him.

Moonripple had already laid out a
huge spread for Father William and looked somewhat distressed when she saw Cain
enter with him.

“I didn’t know you were coming,
sir,” she said apologetically. “I haven’t made anything for you.”

“He can have one of my
sandwiches,” said the preacher magnanimously.

Cain looked at the table. “Are you
sure seven of them will be enough for you?” he asked wryly.

“God tells us that we must make
sacrifices,” said Father William, tying a napkin around his neck and sitting down.
He turned to Moonripple. “Did you remember to buy the ice cream, my child?”

“Yes, sir,” said Moonripple.

“Excellent! By the way, Mr. Cain
will be my guest for dinner.”

“Mr. Cain?” she repeated, staring
at Cain. “Are you the one they call the Songbird?”

Cain nodded. “It’s not my favorite
name.”

“I’ve heard about you all over the
Frontier,” she continued enthusiastically. “Black Orpheus gave you three
verses!” She paused, embarrassed. “I’m sorry about not knowing who you were
last night.”

“There’s no reason why you should
have known me,” replied Cain.

“But you’re so famous!”

“No more so than you and Father
William,” said Cain. “We’re all in the damned song.”

She looked concerned. “Don’t you
like Orpheus’ song?”

“Not especially,” he said.
Moonripple looked like she was about to cry, and he quickly added: “But the
verse he did about you was lovely.”

“Do you really think so?” she
asked, smiling again.

He nodded. “Have you ever found
those pearls that he claims you were looking for?”

“I wasn’t really hunting for
pearls,” she replied. “That was just a thing to say.”

“What
were
you looking for on all those worlds?” asked Cain.

She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Maybe we were both looking for
the same thing,” he suggested.

“Maybe,” she agreed. “What are you
looking for?”

“Santiago.”

“I’ve never met him, sir.”

“Do you know anyone who has?”

“I really couldn’t say, sir,” she
replied. “I mean, if
you
had met Santiago, you’d
hardly be likely to tell someone like me, would you?”

“Would you like to meet him?”

“A great hero like that?” she
said. “He wouldn’t have time for someone like me, sir.”

“Moonripple, my child,” said
Father William, who had been eating with feverish haste during their
conversation, “I think I’m ready for another pitcher of beer.”

“Right away, sir,” she said,
walking behind the bar and holding a fresh pitcher under the tap.

“You’d better dig in, Sebastian,”
said Father William, “or there won’t be anything left for you.”

“You go ahead,” said Cain. “I’m
really not very hungry.”

“You weren’t hungry last night,
either,” remarked the preacher. “No wonder you’re so gaunt. Don’t you ever
eat?”

“Aboard my ship,” answered Cain.

“You couldn’t get me into that
unholy melding of man and machine,” said Father William devoutly. “I’m
surprised God allowed it to happen.”

“If God didn’t want Men to become
spaceships, He wouldn’t have created the Graal,” said Cain with a smile.

Father William looked up sternly
from his food. “Sebastian, you can ask all the questions you want about
Santiago—but when you make fun of the Lord, you’re walking on very thin ice. Do
you understand what I’m saying to you?”

“I apologize if I’ve offended
you,” said Cain.

“It’s not
me
you have to worry about offending,” said the preacher. “It’s the Lord.”

“Then I apologize to both of you.”

Father William stared at him for a
long moment, trying to decide if Cain was making fun of him, then nodded a
terse acceptance and returned to his meal.

Moonripple brought Father
William’s beer over to him. Cain was about to start questioning her again when
the door opened and Charles Marlowe Felcher walked in, strode up to the bar,
and ordered a beer and a whiskey. He looked hot and discouraged, as indeed he
was.

“Good afternoon,” he said, nodding
to Cain and Father William.

“Greetings, neighbor,” said the
preacher. “I think it’s still morning for a few more minutes, though.”

“It feels like afternoon,”
One-Time Charlie replied, downing the whiskey and going to work on the beer.
“I’ve been making the rounds all morning, looking for work.”

“There’s not much to be had on Safe
Harbor,” offered Father William.

“So I’ve been finding out.” He
signaled to Moonripple and held up his whiskey glass. “Keep this thing full,
honey.” He looked back to Father William. “I didn’t know this joint was a
restaurant, too.”

“It isn’t,” said the preacher.
“I’m a friend of the family.”

“You live around here?”

“Just vacationing.”

“You, too?” he asked Cain.

“Just drinking beer,” replied
Cain.

“What’s your name, friend?” asked
Father William.

“Felcher, Charles Felcher,” was
the reply. “But most people call me One-Time Charlie.”

“Orpheus told me about you,” said
Moonripple disapprovingly.

“Well, whatever he told you, it
was probably a lie,” said One-Time Charlie. “After all, that’s what he gets
paid for doing, isn’t it?”

“He doesn’t get paid at all,” she
said.

“Then he’s a bigger fool than I
thought,” laughed Charlie, downing a second whiskey and holding his glass out
for a refill.

“He’s not a fool!” she said hotly.
“He’s a great artist!”

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you that
the customer is always right?” said One-Time Charlie.

“Not when he says bad things about
Black Orpheus, he isn’t,” she replied defiantly.

“Have it your way,” he said with a
shrug. “I’m just here to have a drink and cool off.”

Father William returned to his
repast, while Cain sipped his beer thoughtfully and decided not to question
Moonripple any further until One-Time Charlie had left or passed out. He
decided that the latter was more likely, given the rate at which he was putting
away whiskey and washing it down with beer.

“Moonripple, my girl, I think I
could use another two or three sandwiches before you bring out my dessert,”
announced Father William when he had emptied his plate. “And put a little more
cheese on them this time.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, heading off
to the kitchen.

“That looks like a nice job, being
a friend of the family,” commented One-Time Charlie, looking up from his drink.

“It has its advantages,” agreed
Father William. “Especially for a man of the cloth who donates all his money to
charitable causes.”

Charlie grinned. “Are you a
preacher?”

“I am privileged to serve the Lord
in that and other capacities,” replied Father William.

“Can’t be much work for you on a
little backwater world like this.”

“As I told you, I’m on vacation.”

“Stupid place to come for a
vacation.”

“Ah, but
I’m
vacationing,” said Father William with a smile. “Are
you
working?”

“I’m working on this bottle, is
what I’m working on,” said One-Time Charlie, his words starting to slur.

Moonripple returned with the
sandwiches and placed them down before Father William, then went back to her
post behind the bar.

“Those sandwiches look pretty
good,” said One-Time Charlie. “I think I’ll have some, too.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but they’re not
one of our services,” said Moonripple.

“If you can make them for a preacher,
you can make them for an honest worker,” said One-Time Charlie irritably.

“Really, I can’t, sir,” said
Moonripple. “These come from the owner’s private kitchen.”

“I don’t give a damn where they
come from!” growled Charlie. “If
he
can have them,
so can I.”

Moonripple looked across the room
at Father William, who nodded almost imperceptibly.

“All right, sir,” she said to
One-Time Charlie. “I’ll be right back with your sandwiches.”

She went into the kitchen, and he
turned triumphantly to Father William and Cain.

“You just have to know how to talk
to these people,” he said smugly.

Both of them stared silently back
at him, and after a moment he returned to his drinking.

Moonripple emerged a few minutes
later, carrying two platters. She set one of them down on the bar in front of
One-Time Charlie and carried the other, which held Father William’s dessert, to
the preacher.

“Ah!” he exclaimed happily. “You
found strawberries for my cheesecake! You are truly an angel, my girl!”

“That’s really good cheesecake?”
asked One-Time Charlie sullenly.

“The best!” enthused Father
William. “The girl is an absolute artist in the kitchen!”

“I’ll have a piece, too,” he told
Moonripple.

“I’m afraid there isn’t any more,”
she replied.

“We’re not going to go through all
that again, are we, honey?” he said. “I told you I wanted a piece of
cheesecake.”

“She’s telling you the truth,”
said Father William. “She only makes one a day. I prefer them fresh.”

“Then make another one,” said
One-Time Charlie.

“I can’t, sir,” answered
Moonripple. “I buy the makings each morning. Father William doesn’t like me to
use frozen ingredients.”

“You’re Father William?” asked
One-Time Charlie, surprised.

“That’s right.”

“The bounty hunter?”

“When God so wills it.”

“Is this girl any relation to
you?”

“No.”

“Then you’ve got no interest in
anything I say to her.” One-Time Charlie turned back to Moonripple. “Go out and
buy some more makings.”

“I’m not allowed to leave, sir.”

He grabbed her arm as she walked
by.

“I thought we decided that the
customer was always right.”

“You’re hurting me!” said
Moonripple, trying to twist free.

“I’m going to do a lot more than
that if we don’t figure out who’s the boss here,” he said nastily.

“Let her go,” said Cain softly.

“Another party heard from,” said
One-Time Charlie, turning to glare at him without relinquishing his grip on the
girl. “Who asked you to butt in?”

“I’m another friend of the
family,” said Cain.

“Yeah?” said One-Time Charlie
pugnaciously. “Well, you and your goddamned family can go fuck yourselves.”

“You’ve had too much to drink,”
said Cain, getting slowly to his feet. “Now let her go and get out of here.”

“Are you a bounty hunter, too?”
asked Charlie sarcastically.

“As a matter of fact, I am.”

“Have you got a name?”

“Sebastian Cain.”

“The Songbird?” said One-Time
Charlie, frowning. “What have we got, some kind of convention going on here?”

“What we’ve got is a drunk who’s
asking for trouble,” said Cain ominously.

“Come on,” laughed One-Time
Charlie. “Everybody knows you guys don’t kill anyone who’s not wanted by the
law. This is a private discussion between me and this little girl; why don’t
you just keep your nose out of it?”

“Just let her go and walk out, and
nobody will get hurt,” said Cain slowly.

Suddenly One-Time Charlie twisted Moonripple’s
arm behind her and produced a knife with his free hand, pressing it against the
girl’s throat. “Take one step toward me and I’ll slice her!” he snarled.

“Do you suppose there’s any paper
on One-Time Charlie?” asked Cain, never taking his eyes off the man.

Father William nodded, pulling his
coat back and revealing his laser pistols. “A sinner like him? There’s got to
be paper on him somewhere, Sebastian.”

One-Time Charlie started to
realize that he was in over his head, but in his drunken state of mind he
couldn’t find any way out of his situation. He tightened his grip on Moonripple
and began edging slowly toward the door, keeping her between himself and the
two bounty hunters.

“Make a move and I’ll kill her!”

Cain shrugged and turned to Father
William as if to say something else. Then, in one blindingly swift motion, he
spun around, drew his pistol, and placed a bullet between One-Time Charlie’s
eyes. The room reverberated with the sound of the gunshot.

Moonripple screamed as One-Time
Charlie fell to the floor, and Cain walked over to her and put an arm around
her.

“It’s all right,” he said gently.
“You’re safe now.”

“Very nice work,” said Father
William admiringly. “You’re as good as they say you are.” He walked over to
One-Time Charlie’s body and studied his face closely. “He doesn’t look
familiar,” he said after a moment. “But you can never tell.”