Soothsayer (33 page)

"I'd kind of hoped we might get together over a drink someday, and maybe swap stories,” answered the Spike. He sighed. “But I suppose this way is better."

"Much,” agreed the Kid, as a number of avians began circling lazily overhead.

"I notice you haven't told me to go back to my ship,” said the bounty hunter with an amused smile.

"That's because I don't want you to."

"You
are
a man after my own heart!” chuckled the Spike. “In another life, we could have been great friends."

"Well, you're going to get to that other life first,” said the Kid. “Maybe when I finally join you, we'll be friends after all."

"I hope so,” said the Spike. “Where
we're
bound, I have a feeling a man needs all the friends he can get.” He glanced at the boarding house. “The little girl's in there?"

The Kid nodded his head.

"Is she alone?"

"It doesn't make any difference,” said the Kid. “You've got to get past me first, and you're not going to."

"That remains to be seen,” said the Spike, taking a step forward.

The Forever Kid reached for his sonic pistol. As he did so, Jimmy the Spike made a quick backhanded motion with his forearm, and a trio of long, ugly darts buried themselves in the Kid's chest. He stood motionless for a moment, then stared in disbelief at the blood running down the front of his tunic.

"Well, I'll be damned,” he whispered, the trace of a smile on his face. “It finally happened!"

Then he fell to the ground.

Jimmy the Spike walked over to the Forever Kid's body, rolled him over on his back, and looked down at him. He stared at the boyish face for a long moment, then sighed, and turned to the boarding house. He had taken only two steps toward it when the Mock Turtle stepped up to a window and aimed his weapon. There was a faint humming noise, and then the Spike collapsed, almost falling on top of the Kid's lifeless body.

The Iceman stepped through the doorway and surveyed the carnage, followed a moment later by the Mouse, Penelope, and the Mock Turtle.

"What a waste,” muttered the Iceman.

"He sacrificed himself for us,” intoned the Mock Turtle. “He was a noble man."

"You're wrong on both counts,” said the Iceman.

"I don't understand,” said the alien.

"First, there was nothing noble about it. He's been trying to get himself killed for the better part of a century; he finally succeeded.” He paused. “And second, he didn't sacrifice himself for us."

"Certainly he did."

The Iceman shook his head. “Someone else sacrificed him for us.” He turned and stared at Penelope. “Or am I wrong?"

"Leave her alone, Carlos!” snapped the Mouse.

He looked from the girl to the Mouse, back to the girl once more, shrugged, and walked off to see if he could identify the various corpses.

"I think I know two of them,” he announced. “This one's Buzzard Stone, and that woman"—he indicated the woman who had done most of the talking—"is Nina Pallone. He wasn't much, but she was supposed to be one of the best.” He paused. “I never saw the other five before."

"What shall we do with the bodies?” asked the Mock Turtle.

"After I've had a drink, I'll bury the Kid out behind the rooming house,” answered the Iceman. “You can help."

"And the others?"

"Let's leave ‘em right where they are,” said the Iceman. “There are two more ships due to land. Maybe this will give them something to think about."

He turned and walked off to the restaurant.

The Mouse turned to the Mock Turtle. “Thank you for avenging the Kid's death."

"He meant no more to me than I meant to him,” replied the alien. “I was protecting the Soothsayer."

"Well, whatever your reason, thanks,” said the Mouse. “Maybe you'd better start digging his grave out back. I'm sure Carlos will be by to join you in a few minutes."

"Have I your permission to leave you, Soothsayer?” asked the Mock Turtle.

"Yes,” said Penelope.

The alien stepped down off the porch. “I have no digging instruments,” it announced.

"There's a shed behind the building,” said the Mouse. “I'm sure you'll find a spade or a pick inside it."

The Mock Turtle walked around the rooming house without another word.

"Come inside, Penelope,” said the Mouse.

"Why?” asked the girl.

"We have to talk, and I'd just as soon not do it where we can be overheard, even by the Turtle."

The Mouse walked into the house and walked across the foyer to the lounge, followed by Penelope.

"Sit down,” said the Mouse.

Penelope sat on a couch, and the Mouse sat down next to her.

"What's the matter?” asked the girl. “You act like you're mad at me."

"I'm not mad, but there's something I have to know."

"What?"

The Mouse looked into Penelope's eyes. “Was Carlos telling the truth?"

"I don't know what you mean,” said the girl.

"Did the Forever Kid have to die?"

"He wanted to die,” answered Penelope. “You don't have to feel sad about it."

"You didn't answer my question,” said the Mouse. “Did he have to die?"

"Jimmy the Spike was faster."

"But Jimmy the Spike was our enemy and the Forever Kid was our friend."

"But he died the way he wanted to."

"Look at me,” said the Mouse. “Did you interfere with the fight?"

Penelope met her gaze. “No."

"You're sure?"

"Don't you believe me, Mouse?"

The Mouse stared at her for a moment, then put her arms around the little girl. “Yes, I believe you."

"She's telling the truth,” said a voice from the doorway.

The Mouse jumped up, startled. “I thought you were having a drink."

"They locked up the building when the shooting started,” said the Iceman.

Suddenly the Mouse frowned. “If you agree that she's telling the truth, what were you talking about before?” she demanded.

"You asked her the wrong question."

"What do you think I should have asked."

The Iceman stared at Penelope. “Ask her if the Kid would have lived if she had interfered."

"Go away and leave me alone!” shouted Penelope, half-hysterical.

"Please, Carlos,” said the Mouse.

He nodded. “I've got a body to bury.” He turned to leave. “Besides, I already know the answer."

Then the Mouse was alone with Penelope again.

"Well?” she said.

Penelope, her body still tense, continued to stare at the spot where the Iceman had been standing.

"Penelope,” said the Mouse, “is it true? Could you have saved him?"

"He
wanted
to die."

"He was
prepared
to die,” said the Mouse. “That's not the same thing."

"It is."

"No,” said the Mouse. “If he had wanted to die, he wouldn't have drawn his guns against the first seven bounty hunters. He'd have just stood there and let them shoot him down."

Penelope's gradually relaxed, but made no answer.

"Could you have saved him?” asked the Mouse again.

"Maybe,” said Penelope grudgingly.

"That's not an answer,” said the Mouse. “Could you have saved him—yes or no?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"By breaking the window just when the Kid tried to draw his gun. Jimmy the Spike would have been startled, not for long, but long enough for the Kid to kill him."

"Then why didn't you do it?"

"He didn't care whether he lived or died."

"But
we
care,” said the Mouse. “First, because he was our friend, and second, because we needed him to face the last two men—the two who haven't landed yet."

"They would probably have killed him,” said Penelope.

"Probably?” repeated the Mouse.

"It depends where they stood."

"You could have told him where to stand."

"What difference does it make?” asked Penelope. “He wasn't important anyway.
You're
the one I love.” She threw her arms around the Mouse and buried her head against her small bosom. You and Maryanne and maybe the Mock Turtle. He didn't matter!” She started crying. “Say you're not mad at me, Mouse."

The Mouse stroked her blonde hair absently and stared out the window at the bodies on the street.

"No, I'm not mad at you, Penelope,” she said, her voice troubled.

"And do you still love me?"

"I'll always love you."

"And we're still partners, and we'll always be together?"

The Mouse sighed deeply, and continued stroking Penelope's hair.

"You didn't answer me,” said the little girl.

The Mouse hugged her tightly, but remained silent, a troubled frown on her face.

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Night had fallen.

The Iceman had pulled a rocking chair out to the porch, so he could watch for the final two ships against the darkened sky. Penelope was sleeping in the lounge, where the Mock Turtle sat watch over her.

The Mouse, who had been walking restlessly through and around the rooming house, finally approached the Iceman.

"I've been thinking about what you said,” she began softly.

"And?"

"She's been on the run all her life. She's never stopped long enough for anyone to teach her right from wrong."

"I know."

"She's not malicious,” added the Mouse quickly. “She doesn't mean to hurt anyone. She just doesn't know any better.” She paused. “She thought she was doing the Kid a favor by letting him die."

"I'm sure she did,” said the Iceman. “But the end result is that he's dead."

"She needs guidance, that's all,” said the Mouse.

"And you're going to give it to her?"

"I'm going to try."

"And what happens when she doesn't agree with what you say?"

"I'll just have to be patient, and explain it until she understands,” answered the Mouse.

"Children aren't notorious for being patient,” he pointed out. “Most of them just cry, and a few break things. This one could destroy whole worlds."

"I
can't
kill her, Carlos. She loves me."

The Iceman stared into the darkness for a long time before answering.

"Then you'd better never leave her side for an instant,” he said. “You'd better never give her a reason to doubt that you love her, or that she's the most important thing in your life.” He paused. “The
only
important thing in your life."

"She'd never harm me, Carlos."

"She's just a child, and an untrained one at that,” replied the Iceman. “She'll have doubts and fears and jealousies, just like any other child—only
she
won't recognize them for what they are.” He turned to her. “Other children wish terrible fates on their parents and siblings every day; it's a normal part of growing up. The difference is that what she wishes will come true."

The Mouse made no reply.

"And you'd better watch out for the Mock Turtle, too,” continued the Iceman.

"Why? He worships her."

"You call it a ‘he’ and you give it a name like the Mock Turtle, and that makes you forget it's an alien, with alien perceptions and alien motivations. It's got a polite, almost servile manner, but it killed the Yankee Clipper in cold blood, and it showed no hesitation in shooting down Jimmy the Spike."

"He was protecting her."

"I know ... but it's going be giving Penelope as much input as you are, and for all you know it kills someone every day before breakfast."

"He seems very gentle and very caring to me,” replied the Mouse.

"You've only seen it in the presence of a little girl that it worships. You know nothing about its beliefs and its ethics, except that it's willing to kill humans for what it considers valid reasons."

"What do you want me to do?” demanded the Mouse. “Kill both of them?"

"Kill the little girl and the alien doesn't matter,” said the Iceman. “But if you let her live, then you'd better get rid of the alien, and the sooner the better."

She stared at him. “You're a hard man, Carlos."

He was about to answer her when the sky was lit up by the retro-burn of an incoming spaceship.

"How far away would you say it is?” asked the Iceman when the ship had finally vanished from their sight and presumably landed on the planet's surface.

"Four or five miles, just like the others."

"Whoever's flying it must have picked up the others with his sensor and decided that was the spaceport.” He paused. “Well, we've probably got until sunrise."

"Why won't he come after us right now?” asked the Mouse.

"Because for all he knows, we've got the whole route mined and booby-trapped,” answered the Iceman. “No, he'll wait until he can see where he's going.” He looked up at the sky. “Besides, his partner isn't here yet."

"How do you know who it is, or that he has a partner?” asked the Mouse.

"Because I saw who the Kid killed, and Three-Fisted Ollie wasn't among them,” explained the Iceman. “Ollie is too good at his work to have lost our trail, and he'll have kept in contact with Cemetery Smith.” The Iceman smiled grimly. “
That's
who we're waiting for."

"Maybe we ought to mine the road,” suggested the Mouse. “We have enough time. It won't be daylight for another four or five hours."

"I don't have the equipment,” said the Iceman. “Besides, it doesn't make any difference."

"Why not?"

"Because these are two of the best in the business. They're not going to make a second foolish mistake."

"A
second
one?” said the Mouse. “What was their first?"

"The same as yours,” he replied, leaning back on the rocking chair to wait for Cemetery Smith's ship to streak through the atmosphere. “They thought Penelope Bailey was a helpless little girl."

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Dawn broke with surprising suddenness on Killhaven. One moment it was dark, the next moment it wasn't, and a moment after that a score of avian raptors swooped down and recommenced feeding on the dead bodies that littered the street.

"They're coming,” announced Penelope from inside the house.

"I'll tell Carlos,” said the Mouse's voice.