by Mike Resnick
“Anything less and someone might have seen through it.” Nighthawk winced. “My head's killing me. Give me something for the pain.”
“I already have,” said Sarah. “It should subside in a few minutes. But you'll be in pain on and off for the next few weeks. Nobody's ever had a concussion quite like yours.” She paused. “I think your hearing's pretty much gone. We'll have to see a doctor to enhance it.”
“Old guys are allowed to be hard of hearing,” said Nighthawk. He tried to smile, but the effort brought on another paroxysm of pain, and he lost consciousness.
When he awoke two hours later, Sarah and Kinoshita were still by his bedside, and the pain had subsided somewhat.
“Did it work?”
“Looks like it,” replied Kinoshita. “Giving it a nine-day buildup was a good idea; an awful lot of people showed up to see you get killed. There are reports of your death all over the subspace radio bands.”
“Good,” said Nighthawk. “Then I can finally live the life I want to live, and he can live the life he wants.” He reached out and clasped Sarah's hand in his own. “I just wish there'd been a better way to arrange it.”
“It's over now,” she said.
“Yeah, I think it probably is,” agreed Nighthawk.
“Are you going to stay on Tallgrass?” asked Kinoshita.
“No. They found me here once already. I think we'll leave the Inner Frontier altogether, maybe go settle in the Spiral Arm where no one has ever seen me before.”
“I wish you well,” said Kinoshita. He stood up and walked to the door.
“You're coming with us, aren't you?” asked Sarah.
“I can't,” said Kinoshita.
“Why not?”
“I'm a Samurai, like my ancestors.”
“What's a Samurai?” asked Sarah.
“A warrior who serves his feudal lord,” replied Kinoshita. “One whose life and death is at the disposal of his master.”
“This is your master right here!” insisted Sarah, indicating Nighthawk.
“Not any more,” interjected Nighthawk weakly. He looked at Kinoshita. “It's time to leave. We both know that your duty lies elsewhere.”
“Where?” demanded Sarah.
“He's waiting for me, somewhere out there beyond Keepsake,” said Kinoshita.
“Serve him well,” said Nighthawk. “He doesn't know it, but he needs you. He's got a lot more to learn.”
Kinoshita turned to the man on the bed. “It's been an honor to know you.” He shifted his feet awkwardly. “I wish I could stay...”
“I know,” said Nighthawk.
“But you are merely Jefferson Nighthawk,” he said as he opened the door. “And I serve the Widowmaker.”
* * *
Visit www.fictionwise.com for information on additional titles by this and other authors.