Santiago: A Myth of the Far Future (46 page)

“But not for murder,” said the
Swagman.

“Don’t count on that saving your sinful
scalp,” said the preacher. “You wouldn’t be the first man who got killed for
resisting arrest.”

“Arrest?” repeated the Swagman
with a laugh. “Since when did you become a minion of the law?”

“What do you think bounty hunters
are?” demanded Father William. “Out here on the Frontier, we’re all the law
there is. We may not keep the peace, but we punish the lawbreakers—and even
that leads to a proper respect for the law after a time.”

“I never looked at it that way,”
admitted the Swagman. “Still, I suppose there’s some truth to it.”

“More than you know, Swagman,”
said Father William seriously. “I suggest that you keep it in mind.”

“Maybe you’d better tell my
partner here,” said the Swagman. “He’s thinking of helping a wanted criminal.”

“You know,” said the preacher, “it
might be best for all parties concerned if you just went back to Goldenrod and
admired your ill-gotten gains.”

“I thought it might be more
fruitful to try to add to them.”

“The only reason you’re still
alive is because
he
hasn’t told me to kill you yet,”
continued Father William. “This is his world, and you’re trespassing.”

“I’ll try not to lose any sleep
worrying about it,” said the Swagman.

“Maybe you’d better
start
worrying about it,” suggested Cain.

“Kill me, and
Santiago
had better start worrying,” retorted the Swagman confidently. “If I don’t
report in to Goldenrod every day, one of my robots will tell my menials where I
am.”

“They won’t care,” said Cain.

“They will when the robot informs
them that this is Santiago’s world.” The Swagman grinned. “You don’t really
think I’d come here without taking some precautions, do you?”

“I’ve seen your menials,” said
Father William. “They’re not much.”

“But they talk incessantly,”
replied the Swagman. “You know, for years I’ve been trying to figure out how to
get them to keep a secret. Now I’m glad that I never found an answer.”

Father William and Cain exchanged
glances.

“All right,” said the preacher
after some consideration. “You can stay.”

“How hospitable of you,” said the
Swagman ironically.

“But you’d better be on your ship
five minutes after we kill the Angel, or you’re a dead man.” He paused.
“Santiago wasn’t born on Safe Harbor; he doesn’t have to live out his life
here, either. If I were you, I’d keep that in mind before I did anything rash.”

“Well,” said the Swagman, getting
to his feet, “I hate to drink and run, but I think I’d better arrange for my
accommodations.” He turned to Cain. “Once you’ve calmed down, I trust that
you’ll reconsider my offer.”

“I wasn’t excited the first time I
heard it,” said Cain.

“Think about it.” urged the
Swagman, walking to the doorway. “Fifty percent.”

“Go away.” said Cain, turning his
back on him.

The Swagman shrugged and walked
out the door.

“Well, Sebastian,” said Father
William, leaning back on his chair. “I must say that I’m proud of you.”

“Oh?”

“You looked into the face of the
enemy and didn’t blink.”

“
He’s
not the enemy.” said Cain. “He’s what you’re fighting to protect.”

“A sobering thought,” admitted
Father William with a grim smile.

“How much worse can the Democracy
be?” mused Cain.

“It’s not how much worse.” replied
the preacher. “It’s how much more powerful—and hence, how much more capacity
for harm?”

Cain nodded. “I know.”

“Things aren’t as clear-cut as
they were when you were a young man, are they?” chuckled Father William.

“No, they’re not.”

“It’s easy to decide to remake a
world.” said the preacher. “It’s more difficult to choose between evils.”

Cain sighed. “It is that,” he
agreed. He paused. “How did
you
meet him?”

“Santiago?”

“Yes.”

“He recruited me, just like he
recruited you.”

“You knew that was why I was here,
didn’t you?” asked Cain.

Father William nodded. “I knew
almost a year ago that he had decided he wanted you.” He chuckled again. “I’ll
confess I had my doubts when I learned that you were hooked up with the Swagman
and that young woman.”

“Virtue?”

“That’s the one.”

“She’s an interesting lady,” said
Cain. “Sometimes I have the feeling that she’s going to come out of this better
off than anybody.”

“She knows how to get what she
wants, I’ll grant her that,” said the preacher.

“And now she’s got the Angel,”
said Cain.

“I have a feeling that she’s going
to learn that he’s a little
more
than she wants,”
said Father William, not without a note of satisfaction.

“Tell me something,” said Cain.

“If I can.”

“Who’s buried in those two
graves?”

“Two men who gave their lives to
Santiago’s cause.”

“The Swagman said they were bounty
hunters.”

“Once upon a time they may have
been. I really couldn’t say.”

“He told me they were after
Santiago, and they made it all the way out to the farm before they were
killed.”

“The Swagman’s wrong,” said Father
William firmly.

“What were their names?”

Father William shrugged. “Who
knows? Nobody uses their real names out here—and especially not if they work
for Santiago.” He paused. “Why are you so curious about them?”

“Inconsistencies bother me.”

“Then don’t talk to the Swagman.
He’s never seen the farm in his life. Santiago has no reason to lie to you; the
Swagman has no reason to tell you the truth.” He leaned forward. “What did he
offer you?”

“Half of the artwork.”

“That’s very generous,” said the
preacher. “I wonder how he planned to cheat you out of it?”

“I’m sure he’s given it
considerable thought,” said Cain.

Moonripple emerged from the
kitchen and approached Father William.

“How soon will you be wanting your
dessert, sir?” she asked.

“Right now.” said Father William.
“Will you join me, Sebastian?”

“Why not?” said Cain.

“You’re sure?” asked Father
William, surprised.

“I could use a little snack.”

Father William looked as if his
heart was about to break. Finally he turned to Moonripple. “My child, how long
will it take you to cook up another chocolate cake?”

“I have three more in the kitchen,
sir,” she replied.

“Good. Bring two of them out
here.” He turned to Cain. “That way neither of us will leave the table hungry.”

“Moonripple’s right, you know,”
said Cain.

“About what?”

“You’re going to eat yourself to
death.”

“I need energy for the work
ahead,” answered Father William seriously.

Cain shrugged. “It’s your life.”

“No, Sebastian. It belongs to the
Lord, just as yours belongs to Santiago now.”

“What makes you think it does?”
asked Cain.

“I don’t think so,” replied the
preacher. “I know so.”

“I don’t know any such thing.”

“Yes, you do, Sebastian.” said
Father William. “He chooses his recruits very carefully, and he’s never been
wrong about one yet. You could have killed him last night or this morning and
cashed the biggest reward you ever dreamed about; you didn’t. You could have
dealt with the Swagman just now: you didn’t.” His booming voice became almost
gentle. “Your mind may be undecided, but your heart knows where you stand.”

Cain looked momentarily surprised.

“I suppose it
does, at that.” he said thoughtfully.

A riddle
inside an enigma,

Wrapped up in
a puzzle or two.

What man fits
these specifications?

The King of the Outlaws—that’s who!

“How did your meeting with the
Swagman go?” asked Santiago, looking up from his book as Cain joined him on the
veranda.

“About as expected.”

Santiago seemed amused. “He was
that obvious?”

“He was that hungry,” replied
Cain.

“By the way,” said Santiago, “I
sent one of my men to Silent Annie’s house for your belongings. I hope you
don’t mind.”

“It’s all right,” said Cain,
sitting down and looking out over the vast expanse of farmland. “I’ll be
staying.”

“I’m delighted to hear it.”

“You knew it all along.”

“Yes, I did,” admitted Santiago.
“But I’m glad that you know it, too. We can use you, Sebastian.”

“Sooner than you think,” replied
Cain. “The Swagman says that the Angel will be here in two or three more days.”
He paused. “It might be a good time to select a target and go off on a raid.”

“Somewhere far away?” asked
Santiago with a smile.

“The farther the better.”

“I thank you for the thought,
Sebastian, but Safe Harbor is my home. I don’t propose to run away from it at
the first sign of danger.”

“
Is
it
the first sign?” asked Cain. “The Swagman told me that half a dozen bounty
hunters had made it this far.”

“He was wrong,” said Santiago.
“The actual number is four—and if I didn’t run from them, you may rest assured
that I won’t run from the Angel. Besides,” he added, “would you want to serve a
leader who flees from his enemies?”

“I don’t suppose it’s any worse
than serving a leader who’s got a death wish,” said Cain seriously.

“Believe me, Sebastian—it will
take more than the Angel to kill Santiago.” He gazed at the horizon and sighed
contentedly. “Look at that sunset. Isn’t it glorious?”

“If you say so.”

“I do.” Santiago turned to Cain.
“I assume the Swagman is staying on Safe Harbor?”

Cain nodded.

Santiago chuckled. “He’s not as
inspiring as the sunset, but he’s every bit as predictable. What did he offer
you to kill me—a third of his profits in addition to the reward?”

“Half.”

Santiago looked amused. “Well, why
not? He doesn’t intend to pay you anyway.”

“I know,” replied Cain. He paused.
“How did you ever get mixed up with him in the first place?”

“The same way you did, I suspect.
He had something that I needed.”

“What?”

“Certain business contacts.”

“And he asked to join your
organization in exchange for them?”

Santiago shook his head. “That was
my
idea.”

“Why?” asked Cain, puzzled.

“Some men have a lean and hungry
look about them,” replied Santiago. “If you’re going to have any dealings with
them, it makes sense to put them where you can keep an eye on them.”

Cain smiled ironically. “If that’s
your criterion for employment, I’m surprised you don’t have a standing army of
ten million.”

“If there were ten million Swagmen
out there who could help me accomplish my goals, rest assured that I would hire
them all.” said Santiago. “However, it has been my experience that truly
competent criminals are almost as rare as truly competent heroes.” He stood up
suddenly. “But where are my manners? Here it is evening, and you haven’t eaten yet.
Come into the house.”

Cain stood up and followed him
inside. “I’m not really hungry,” he said. “Watching Father William demolish a
ten-pound bird can kill anyone’s appetite.” He grimaced. “I’m surprised he left
the bones.”

Santiago laughed. “I know the
feeling.” He paused. “Well, at least let me offer you a drink to celebrate your
joining us.”

Cain nodded his assent, and they
walked to the living room, where Jacinto was sitting on a couch, reading one of
Santiago’s books.

“Have you heard the news?” Santiago
asked him. “Sebastian has decided to stay with us.”

“I know,” replied Jacinto. “Father
William told me when he dropped him off a few minutes ago.”

Santiago walked over to his bar
and studied the array of bottles. “Something special,” he muttered, half to
himself. Suddenly his face lit up. “Ah! The very thing.” He reached up and
grabbed a bottle. “Korbellian whiskey,” he said, displaying the label. “It’s
made from a plant very similar to barley that they have growing up the sides of
their mountains. There’s nothing else quite like it.” He poured out three
glasses and began passing them around. “What do you think of it?” he asked as
Cain took a tentative sip.

“Unusual,” replied Cain. He took
another taste. “Interesting, though. I think I like it.”

“You
think
you like it?” laughed Santiago. “Sebastian, you’ve been on the Frontier too
long.”

Cain downed his drink and held out
his glass for a refill. “I’ll need another to make up my mind.”

“Happy to,” said Santiago, filling
his glass again. “But be careful. It packs quite a wallop.”

Cain finished the second, and
suddenly, for the first time in years, felt a little light-headed. “I see what
you mean.” He grinned. “I think I’d better quit while I’m ahead.”

“Good,” said Santiago. “I like a
man who knows his own limitations.”

“Maybe you should suggest that to
Father William the next time he comes to dinner,” said Jacinto sardonically.

“As far as his capacity to put
away food is concerned, the man
has
no limitations
that I’ve been able to discern,” replied Santiago. He shrugged. “Well, I
suppose bounty hunters, like revolutionaries, come in all shapes and sizes.”

“I suspect that his size gives him
an added advantage,” said Jacinto.

“Oh?” asked Cain, interested.
“What is it?”

“He looks like he’s too slow and
fat to draw those laser pistols of his. It breeds overconfidence in the enemy.”

“I doubt it,” said Cain. “What you
have to remember is that any man who carries a gun out here is undefeated. You
can’t afford to get overconfident in this business.”