Authors: Mike Resnick
"I don't hate you at all,” replied the Iceman.
"But you want me dead."
"Probably."
"Then you
do
hate me."
"No more than I hate a cancer that has to be removed, or a scavenger that has to be shot. You can't help what you are, but you're too dangerous to be allowed to live."
"If you lay a finger on her, it'll be over my dead body!” said the Mouse.
"And mine,” chimed in the Mock Turtle.
"Your money doesn't run out for four more days, Mouse,” said the Forever Kid easily. “I'm sure we'll have this all sorted out by then."
"And what happens when the money runs out?” asked the Iceman.
The Kid smiled at him. “Then I might go up against you just for the hell of it."
"Maybe you'd better worry about who you have to face today,” said the Iceman emotionlessly. “They're due to arrive within the hour."
"I'm looking forward to it,” the Forever Kid assured him.
"I'll just bet you are,” replied the Iceman.
"Soothsayer,” interjected the Mock Turtle, “how may we help in your defense?"
"You don't listen very well, do you?” said the Iceman. “She doesn't
need
any help."
"You don't listen too well yourself,” shot back the Mouse. “They're not coming to kill her, but to capture her."
"How long will she stay captured?” replied the Iceman. He turned to the girl again. “How many people have captured you so far, and where are they all now?"
Penelope's grip on the Mouse's hand tightened. “Make him leave me alone, Mouse."
"You heard her,” said the Mouse.
The Iceman shrugged. “That being the case, I think I'll go across the street and get a drink while there's time."
"That's a restaurant, not a bar,” said the Mouse.
"They'll find some liquor,” said the Iceman confidently. He got to his feet, walked across the room, and a moment later he had left the rooming house and crossed the empty street.
The Mouse turned to Penelope. “Will you be all right if I leave you for a few minutes?"
"Where are you going?"
"To have a talk with Carlos,” she answered. “I've got to know whether we can count on him—or even turn our backs on him—once the shooting starts."
"He's a very bad man,” said Penelope.
"I'm starting to agree with you."
"Then don't go,” pleaded Penelope, clutching at the Mouse's arm with both of her hands.
The Mouse hugged her reassuringly, then gently disengaged herself and got to her feet. “I'll just be a few minutes,” she said, “and you'll be safe here with the Kid and the Mock Turtle."
"He'll just say terrible things about me,” said Penelope. “Promise me you won't listen to them."
"Of course I won't.” The Mouse smiled. “We're still a team, remember?"
She hugged the girl again, then left the rooming house and walked across the street to the restaurant.
"You again?” said the pudgy woman, as the Mouse walked up the stairs of the veranda and into the building.
"Let her in,” said the Iceman, who was sitting alone in the dining room.
As with the old man, the woman detected something in his voice that made her decide not to argue with him.
"A beer for her, and another Cygnian cognac for me,” said the Iceman.
The woman left the room, and the Mouse sat down opposite the Iceman.
"I had a feeling you'd come over here,” he said. “I suppose it's just as well. We've got to talk."
"Yes, we do,” agreed the Mouse.
The woman returned with the drinks.
"Thanks,” said the Iceman, placing a couple of bills on the table. “Now leave us alone."
"How will I know if you want more?” she demanded.
"We won't."
The pudgy woman turned and left the room without another word.
The Mouse leaned forward and stared at the Iceman.
"Why did you come here, Carlos?"
"Because I was thirsty."
"You know what I mean,” she said irritably. “You're not here for the reward, and you're certainly not here to save me—so why
are
you here?"
"You still don't believe it, do you?” said the Iceman. “You're sitting on a time bomb, and you still haven't realized it."
"You make her sound like Evil Incarnate,” said the Mouse. “There's not a malicious bone in her body. She's just a little girl, and I love her."
"I never said she was malicious."
"Well, then?"
The Iceman sipped his drink, put it back down on the table, and met the Mouse's gaze.
"Wherever she goes, people die."
"Only people who mean her harm."
"She's just a child, Mouse,” said the Iceman. “As she grows older and stronger, her definition of harm is going to change. Right now it's people who want to take her away from you, but one day soon it'll be anyone who opposes anything she wants."
"Nonsense."
"You think only bounty hunters can trip on ladders and break their necks?” continued the Iceman. “You think a planetary governor can't choke on his food, or that the Secretary of the Democracy can't slip in the rain?"
"She would never do that!"
"Why not?"
"She's a decent, sensitive child. You don't know her like I do."
"Nobody knows her like you do,” agreed the Iceman. “But she'll even kill you if you stand in her way."
"Stand in her way?” repeated the Mouse. “In her way to
what
?"
He shrugged. “I don't know. But the first duty of power is to protect itself, and the first instinct of the strong is to eat the weak."
"You're a fool, Carlos!"
"Perhaps."
"She's never harmed anyone who didn't try to harm her first."
"She's never had the opportunity to."
"She has the opportunity right now,” said the Mouse. “If she's what you think she is, why haven't you choked to death on your drink, or keeled over with a heart attack?"
"Obviously she needs me—probably to face the bounty hunters,” said the Iceman, still with no display of emotion. “That's why we have to talk.” He stared at her intently. “If one of the bounty hunters manages to get his hands on her, then she's the Democracy's problem, and good luck to them.” He paused. “But if you're the only one who survives this mess, you'd better start giving some thought to how you're going to kill her."
"You're describing a monster, not a little girl!"
"A potential monster, anyway,” agreed the Iceman. “The longer you wait, the harder she'll be to take on."
"Did it ever occur to you that she could be a force for good?” demanded the Mouse.
"What's good for her won't be what's good for us."
"She's a human being!"
"She's more than a human being,” replied the Iceman. “And the more she grows, the less like a human being she's going to become."
"Then why didn't you try to kill her the minute you saw her out on the street?"
He stared at his drink for a moment, then looked across the table at her.
"There's a possibility that I'm wrong."
"That's the first rational thing you've said."
"Everything I've said is rational,” he replied. “I could be mistaken about how much harm she could do. It wouldn't be the first time I was wrong.” He paused. “But I doubt it."
"Then I repeat: why are you here at all? Why don't you just stand back and let the bounty hunters take her away?"
"I plan to stand back."
"I don't understand."
"If she can arrange for the Forever Kid to kill them all, then she's as dangerous as I thought. If she can't, then I'll take a hand."
"That won't prove a thing,” said the Mouse. “I've seen him kill eight miners all by himself."
"Those were miners,” said the Iceman. “These are bounty hunters. There's Three-Fisted Ollie and Jimmy the Spike and Cemetery Smith and half a dozen others just as formidable. The Forever Kid's good, but he's not
that
good."
"Then you're telling me that you plan to sit back and watch him die defending Penelope?"
"First, nothing would make him happier than dying, and second, I don't expect him to die."
"What
do
you expect?"
"I expect him to kill them all, and then I expect I'll try to kill her, whether he tries to stop me or not.” The Iceman paused. “And if I fail, I expect you to remember this conversation, and put your emotions aside, and do what has to be done."
"Not a chance,” said the Mouse in level tones.
"Then I feel very sorry for you.” He paused. “You always seem to love the wrong people. Once it cost you a year in an alien prison. This time it may cost you your life."
"
You
never cared for me!” said the Mouse. “Penelope loves me!"
"She loves you because she needs a mother and that's what you've been to her,” said the Iceman. “What happens when she stops needing a mother?"
"Sooner or later all little girls grow up and stop needing their mothers,” said the Mouse. “That doesn't mean they stop loving them."
"But you're
not
her mother,” he pointed out. “By the time she's mature she'll have no more in common with you than you have with an insect."
"You don't know her, or you wouldn't say that."
"I freely admit I don't know her,” said the Iceman. “My point is that you don't either. She looks and acts like a normal little girl, but she isn't one.” He paused. “I asked you a question back on Last Chance. Let me ask it again: how many men and women and aliens has this normal little girl killed?"
"I told you,” said the Mouse. “Anytime she's hurt or killed somebody it's been in self-defense."
"You still haven't answered me. How many?"
"I don't know?"
"More than the Forever Kid?"
"I doubt it. But that's not the point. She's not a paid killer. She's just trying to stay alive."
"I know. But let me ask another question now: has she ever expressed any remorse or regret over having taken so many lives?"
"No,” said the Mouse. Then she added defensively: “Would
you
feel remorse over killing someone who was trying to kill you?"
"No, I wouldn't,” replied the Iceman.
"Then why is she any different from you?"
"Because when I was eight years old, I couldn't kill ten or twenty or however many bounty hunters she's killed,” said the Iceman. “She's still a little girl, and her needs are simple: she wants to stay alive and she wants to stay free. But what will her needs be when she grows up?"
"I don't know, and neither do you."
"Nobody knows,” he admitted. “Probably not even Penelope. But I do know this: if her power keeps growing, and there's no reason to assume it won't, she can have anything she wants when she grows up. A planet? A star system? A trillion credits? Hers for the asking—or for the wanting and the manipulating."
"That's no different than a politician or a businessman."
"There's a difference,” said the Iceman. “
They
can be stopped.
She
can't. Hell, she's already killed more men than most of the bounty hunters who are after her. Can't you see what lies up the road?"
"You're guessing!” she half-shouted. “You want me to kill her because you think she
might
grow up to be some kind of monster! Well, she isn't, and she never will be! You don't know her like I do!"
"No,” he said. “But I know something else. I know that we've had monsters before—Caligula, Hitler, Conrad Bland—and that they all had mothers who loved them."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Think of how many lives could have been saved if just one of those mothers had seen her child for the potential monster it really was.” He paused and stared at her. “You might consider that while there's still time."
Then he rose and walked out of the dining room, leaving her with her beer and her thoughts.
An hour had passed.
The Mock Turtle, the Mouse, and Penelope were sitting quietly in the lounge of the boarding house. The Iceman was leaning against a wall, looking out at the street through a window, and the Forever Kid stood in the open front door, totally relaxed while idly fingering the handle of his sonic pistol.
The Iceman lit a cigar, took a deep puff of it, and turned to stare expressionlessly at the little girl.
"Don't do that,” said Penelope.
"Don't do what?” he asked.
"Don't look at me like that,” she said. “It frightens me."
He took another puff of his cigar, then walked out into the foyer and sat down on the corner of the desk.
"Where the hell are they?” said the Mouse, getting to her feet and crossing the room to stand by the doorway.
"They'll be here, never fear,” said the Iceman.
"I just wish we had some plan,” she said nervously.
"The Soothsayer will tell us what to do when the time comes,” said the Mock Turtle placidly.
"Why are you so goddamned calm?” said the Mouse, turning to glare at the alien. “Don't you ever get excited about anything?"
"Why are you so excited?” responded the Mock Turtle, its voice calm and steady. “Have you no faith in the Soothsayer?"
The Mouse was about to reply to the alien, then thought better of it, and continued her pacing.
Penelope held Maryanne to her chest, rocking back and forth on the ancient sofa, and half-singing, half-whispering a lullaby to the doll. She stopped every now and then to see if the Iceman was still in the next room, then lovingly smoothed the doll's dress and began crooning to it again.
The Forever Kid pulled his sonic pistol out of its holster and checked its charge.
"You keep fiddling with that thing and you're going to inadvertently deactivate it,” commented the Iceman. “If you're nervous, go across street and have a drink."
"Bored, not nervous,” corrected the Kid. He paused. “I've never seen the Spike or Cemetery Smith before. I want to see what they can do."
"They can kill you; that's what they can do,” said the Iceman.
"You really think they've got a chance?” asked the Kid, with an almost hopeful note in his voice.
"Everyone's always got a chance,” said the Iceman noncommittally. “Out here, if you carry a weapon, you're undefeated so far."