by Mike Resnick
"Just sitting around drinking beer."
"God has little use for liars, Sebastian," said Father William. He turned to Cain. "And I have even less."
"I came here looking for Billy Three-Eyes."
"Was there paper on him?"
"Probably," answered Cain.
"Probably?" repeated Father William, wolfing down still more food and following it up with a large glass of beer.
"I don't know. I wasn't here to kill him; I was after some information."
"About Santiago?"
"Why should you think so?" asked Cain.
"Because you were talking about him when I came in."
"I thought everybody out here talks about Santiago."
"I also know of your partnership with Virtue MacKenzie," Father William pointed out. He finished the last of the meat he had sliced, considered giving himself a second helping of potatoes au gratin, decided against it, and attacked his roast with renewed vigor. "What did you think you could learn from Billy Three-Eyes?"
"Where to find him."
"So you plan to be the man who kills Santiago?" asked Father William between mouthfuls.
"I plan to try," answered Cain. He paused. "I have a feeling that I'm getting pretty close to him."
"What makes you think so?"
"Because the worst crime anyone is likely to commit on Safe Harbor is robbing a store—but three bounty hunters have landed here in the past four months: you, me and Peacemaker MacDougal. That must mean something."
Father William frowned. "MacDougal? Is he here?"
"Not anymore. He killed Billy Three-Eyes."
"Well, there you have it," said the preacher decisively.
"There I have what?"
"Coincidence. You and MacDougal were both after Billy Three-Eyes, and I'm here because my ship had a problem."
"Why was Billy Three-Eyes here?" asked Cain.
Father William shrugged. "Who knows?"
"Somebody must," said Cain. "He was a killer. What was he doing on a world like Safe Harbor?"
"Hiding out, in all likelihood." Father William took a final mouthful of meat. "Moonripple!" he called out.
"That's her name?"
The preacher nodded. "Lovely, isn't it? It evokes images of Stardust and ethereal beauty."
"I've heard it somewhere before," said Cain, frowning.
"Yes, sir." said Moonripple, emerging from the kitchen.
"I think it's time for the cake, my child," announced Father William.
Moonripple stared at his plate and frowned. "I keep telling you, sir, that if you insist on finishing your meal this fast, you'll make yourself sick."
"Who says I'm through?" Father William laughed. "I've still got most of the potatoes and half a pitcher of beer. But the cake would make a pleasant change of pace."
"Wouldn't you rather rest a bit and give yourself time to digest what you've eaten?" asked Moonripple.
"It'll be digested by the time you return with the cake." He paused. "You layered it with that fudge frosting we talked about yesterday, didn't you?"
"Yes, sir."
He tossed a platinum coin to her. "That's my girl!"
She caught the coin, placed it in a pocket, and went back into the kitchen to fetch the cake.
"Delightful child," said Father William. "She's wasting her time here. I've offered her a job as my personal cook, but she turned me down flat."
"Maybe she thinks you're not likely to provide long-term employment at the rate you put food away," commented Cain dryly.
"Nonsense!" said the preacher. "The Lord's got important work for me, Sebastian. I plan to live a long, long time—which," he added, "is more than can be said for bounty hunters who try to kill Santiago."
"You're a bounty hunter, too," Cain noted.
"Ah, but I'm one of the smart ones. I'm not after Santiago."
"Why not? The price on his head could build a lot of churches."
"People have been trying to find him for thirty years or more without any success," replied Father William. "He's not worth the effort."
Moonripple reemerged from the kitchen, carrying a rich-looking chocolate layer cake.
"This has been a very interesting afternoon," remarked Cain as she set the cake down on the table.
"Has it indeed?" asked the preacher, looking down at the cake with the happy air of a child opening a present.
Cain nodded. "Yes, it has. So far I've met two people on Safe Harbor. One of them thinks Santiago is a hero, and the other is a bounty hunter who has no interest in him whatsoever."
"Moonripple, my dear," said Father William, ignoring Cain's comment, "do you think if you looked high and low you might be able to find me some ice cream to go with this luscious cake?"
"I think you finished all our ice cream yesterday, sir," she replied.
He looked crestfallen. "Check anyway, just in case."
She shrugged and headed off to the kitchen.
"Moonripple," repeated Cain. "Didn't Orpheus write her up a couple years ago?"
Father William nodded. "She's told me about him. I gather he offered her a job, too, and she didn't take it. She's a very independent young lady."
"And a very well-traveled one, too," said Cain. "I wonder what she's doing here?"
"Why don't you ask her?" suggested Father William, finishing his beer. "As for me," he added, rubbing his pudgy hands together, "I don't think I can wait for her to find that ice cream." He picked up a knife. "Would you like me to cut you a piece?"
"No, thanks," said Cain as the preacher cut a third of the cake away and placed it on his plate.
Father William stared at the cake for a moment, then picked up a piece and tasted it.
"Sebastian," he said, his face reflecting an ecstasy usually reserved only for his communications with God, "you don't know what you're missing!"
"Twenty thousand calories, at a rough guess," said Cain.
"I preach hard and I kill hard," said Father William seriously. "God understands that I've got to eat hard, too. You can't have a weakling doing the Lord's work, not out here on the Frontier."
"I believe you," said Cain. "I just hope your heart and kidneys do, too."
"The Lord is my shepherd," said the preacher, attacking the cake in earnest. "I'll make out just fine."
Moonripple approached the table again.
"I'm sorry, Father William, but there really isn't any ice cream left."
"You'll remember to get some by tomorrow, won't you?" asked Father William with childlike urgency.
"I'll try."
"Good girl!" he said, returning his attention to the cake.
"Would you like me to take the potatoes away now, sir?"
He placed a huge hand over the container. "I'll get to them, child, never fear."
"Have you ever thought of becoming a chef for the navy?" asked Cain with a smile.
"Oh, no, sir," replied Moonripple seriously. "I like my work just as it is."
"Father William suggested that I ask why you came to Safe Harbor," said Cain.
"I don't know," she said with a shrug. "I'd heard about it, and it sounded like a nice place."
"How long have you been here?"
She stared at the ceiling and moved her lips silently, totaling up the days and months.
"Two years next week, sir."
"That's a long time for you to spend in one place, isn't it?"
"What do you mean, sir?"
"Orpheus says you've been to more than a hundred worlds."
"He was a very nice man," she said. "He put me into his song."
"And he said you liked to travel all over the galaxy."
"I do."
"But you stopped here," Cain pointed out.
"I like this world."
"And you disliked all the others?"
She shrugged. "Some of them."
"And the rest?"
"They were nice enough. I suppose. I just like this one better."
"What's so special abo
ut it?" asked Cain.
She looked puzzled. "Nothing."
"Then why do you like it better?"
"I don't know. The people are nice, and I like my job, and I have a nice place to live."
"That's enough," said Father William.
"You told me to ask her." replied Cain.
"There's a difference between asking and badgering. Leave her alone now."
Cain shrugged. "I'm sorry if I've upset you, Moonripple."
"You haven't, sir," she replied. "You and Father William have both been very nice to me."
An elderly man entered and walked over to a table next to the one Cain had left, and Moonripple went off to wait on him.
"Well, Sebastian," said Father William, finishing the piece of cake on his plate and cutting the remaining two-thirds in half, "I guess you'll be on your way, now that the man you came to see is dead."
"I guess so," said Cain.
"Well, it's been a pleasure meeting you and talking to you."
"How long will you be staying here?" asked Cain.
"The way that girl cooks, I could stay forever," replied Father William. "But I think I'll be on my way in another two or three days. There are still a lot of souls to be saved out here—and a few that need to be sent on ahead to Satan."
"But not Santiago's?"
Father William smiled. "I suppose if I were to bump headfirst into him, I might give some serious thought to it," he answered. "But I've got better things to do than chase all over the galaxy after a will-o'-the-wisp."
"To each his own," said Cain, getting to his feet.
Father William extended a chocolate-smeared hand, and Cain took it.
"You're an interesting man," said Cain. "I hope I'll see you again someday."
"Who knows?" replied the preacher. "The Lord works in mysterious ways."
Darkness had fallen when Cain walked out into the humid Safe Harbor atmosphere, and it took him a moment to get his bearings. The planet's three tiny moons were clearly visible but provided very little illumination, nor was there any lighting on the deserted street.
The town, such as it was, was only about five blocks square, and Schussler had been able to set down less than two miles away. Once the bounty hunter ascertained which way he had come, he set about retracing his steps and spent the next ten minutes walking down a dirt road that fronted an enormous field of mutated corn stalks, each some ten to twelve feet high and holding an average of twenty ears apiece.
In the distance he could hear a calf bleating. Logically he knew that imported embryos had to be born and raised before they could be slaughtered, but while Father William's roast hadn't seemed out of place to him, somehow the sound of a calf growing up on an alien world untold trillions of miles from where it had been conceived struck him as highly incongruous.
He continued walking, and after another fifteen minutes he came to Schussler, who had recognized him when he was still a few hundred yards away and opened the hatch for him.
"Did Billy Three-Eyes have anything useful to say?" asked the cyborg when Cain had seated himself in the command cabin.
"He's dead," said Cain. "Peacemaker MacDougal took him four months ago."
"I'm sorry to hear that," said Schussler. There was a momentary pause. "I'll bet the Swagman knew it all along!" he exclaimed suddenly.
"I wouldn't be surprised."
"Where will we go next?"
"Nowhere," said Cain. "There's something funny going on right here."
"Funny?"
"I ran into Father William."
"What was he doing?" asked Schussler.
"He said he was taking a vacation."
"Curious," murmured Schussler. "Still, I suppose it's possible."
"Anything's possible," said Cain. "But why here, and why now?"
"It does seem peculiar that so many bounty hunters have recently visited an innocuous little agricultural world," admitted Schussler.
"And I met a girl named Moonripple."
"The name is unfamiliar to me."
"She's just a barmaid," replied Cain. "Not very pretty, not very smart. Maybe twenty years old, tops."
"Then why does she interest you?"
"Because Orpheus wrote her up."
"Orpheus has written up thousands of people."
"And four of us are within two miles of each other on a little colony world in the middle of nowhere," said Cain.
"I hadn't looked at it that way," said Schussler. "That's very interesting."
"I'd say so."
"Very interesting," repeated the cyborg.
"Anyway, according to Orpheus, Moonripple has been to one hundred planets."
"I myself have been to more than three hundred," said Schussler. "What's so unusual about that?"
"Nothing. But it means she had to hit better than a world a month since she was ten or eleven years old—and now, for some reason, she's stayed on Safe Harbor for two years. What made her stop traveling?"
"A good question," agreed the cyborg. "What's the answer?"
"I don't have one—yet."
"Did you learn anything else about her?"
"Yes," said Cain. "She thinks Santiago is a hero."
"Why?" asked Schussler.
"I don't know," said Cain. "But I sure as hell intend to find out." He paused. "Can you get some information for me?"
"What kind?"
"I know they don't have any spaceports on this planet, but there has to be some regulatory agency that cleared you for landing and gave you the proper coordinates."
"Yes, there is."
"Contact them and see if you can find out how long Father William has been here."
Schussler had the information thirty seconds later. "He's been on Safe Harbor for almost a month."
"He told me he landed here with engine trouble a week ago. Moonripple said the same thing."
"I can double-check if you like."
"It's not necessary." Cain stared at the wall and frowned. "I wonder what he's waiting for?"
"We're getting close, aren't we?" asked Schussler, a note of anticipation momentarily driving the mournful tone from his musical voice.
"Very," said Cain softly.
20.
One-Time Charlie makes mistakes,
But never makes them twice.
His heart is black as anthracite,
His blood is cold as ice.
* * * *
It was the name that did it.
Certainly Black Orpheus had no other reason to put him into the ballad. He wasn't a hero or a villain, a gambler or a thief, a cyborg or a bounty hunter; in fact, he wasn't anything colorful at all. He was just a drifter named Charles Marlowe Felcher, who wandered from one agricultural world to another, drinking a little too much to make up for not working quite enough.
He had a mean streak, but he wasn't a very imposing physical specimen, and his mastery of fisticuffs and self-defense left a lot to be desired. He felt no enormous compulsion to pay his debts, but since that was common knowledge nobody ever gave him a line of credit, and especially not bartenders. He carried an impressive sonic pistol on his hip, but he wasn't very accurate with it, and more often than not he forgot to keep it charged.
But he had that name, and Orpheus couldn't let it pass without putting it into a verse.
Since he wasn't a very loquacious man, nobody knew exactly why he was called One-Time Charlie. Some people said it was because he had been married once in his youth, left his wife behind when he came out to the Frontier, and swore he would never live with a woman again. Others created a complex legend about how he had served time for some crime or another and vowed that he would commit every criminal act in the book just once, so that the police would never again be able to find a pattern to his behavior. A third story had it that he caused such havoc on his binges that he never returned to a world he had visited. A few of his enemies—and he certainly had a number of them—said it was a name created by Flat-Nosed Sal, one of the more notorious prostitutes o
f the Tumiga system, after he paid for an entire weekend of her time but could only perform once.
Orpheus wasn't concerned with the origin of his name, but only with the fascinating images it evoked; and since he caught him on a bad day, when he had been drinking pretty heavily and wasn't in one of his friendlier moods, the verse came out the way it did.
One-Time Charlie's verse was a recent addition to the canon, and as a result very few people on Safe Harbor had heard it—which was probably all for the best, since sooner or later someone who had heard the song and the stories would start asking him about Flat-Nosed Sal, and as often as not he and his questioner would both wake up in the local jail or the local hospital.
He arrived on a typical Safe Harbor day—warm, sunny, somewhat humid—and spent the next few hours looking for work at the larger farming combines. He was still making the rounds when Cain awoke, shaved, showered, and walked into town.
The place had the flavor of a small village back on old Earth, with rows of frame buildings and houses divided into neat little rectangles. Even the styling was similar, with many of the houses possessing dormer windows and huge verandas. He paused to examine one of them and wasn't surprised to find that beneath the woodlike veneer was a layer of a titanium alloy, and that the house ran on fusion power.
He walked another block and saw the figure of Father William sitting on the front porch of his small hotel, swaying gently back and forth on the oversized wooden rocking chair. He shaded his eyes as he watched the bounty hunter approach.
"Good morning, Sebastian," he said. "Lovely day, isn't it?"
Cain nodded. "That it is. Good morning, Father William."
"I thought you'd be off in pursuit of Santiago this morning," said the preacher.
"There's no hurry," said Cain. "I thought I'd sample some of Moonripple's cooking myself." He paused. "Besides, Santiago's been out there for thirty years or more. Another couple of days can't hurt."
"I hear tell that the Angel is closing in on him."