Santiago: A Myth of the Far Future

by Mike Resnick

  "Make a move and I'll kill her!"

  Cain shrugged and turned to Father William as if to say something else. Then, in one blindingly swift motion, he spun around, drew his pistol, and placed a bullet between One-Time Charlie's eyes. The room reverberated with the sound of the gunshot.

  Moonripple screamed as One-Time Charlie fell to the floor, and Cain walked over to her and put an arm around her.

  "It's all right," he said gently. "You're safe now."

  "Very nice work," said Father William admiringly. "You're as good as they say you are." He walked over to One-Time Charlie's body and studied his face closely. "He doesn't look familiar," he said after a moment. "But you can never tell."

  "If you want him, he's yours," offered Cain.

  "You mean it?"

  "View it as my belated contribution to church," said Cain wryly.

  "Praise the Lord, I've got another convert!" laughed Father William, pulling out his skinning knife.

  "Come outside," said Cain to Moonripple. "You don't want to watch this."

  "What is he going to do?" she asked, staring at the preacher with horrified fascination.

  "Nothing that concerns us," replied Cain, walking her to the doorway.

  She went out into the street with him, still trembling, as the townspeople poured out of their stores and houses to converge on the tavern. Cain ignored them and kept walking until he and Moonripple were well clear of the crowd.

  "Will you be all right, or would you like me to take you to a doctor?" he asked.

  "I'm fine, sir," she said.

  "You're sure?" he asked as the sound of Father William's voice came out of the tavern, reassuring the onlookers that no crime had been committed and that another sinner had been sent to Satan a few years ahead of schedule.

  "Yes, sir," said Moonripple. "I'm all right, really I am."

  "Good. That was a pretty close call."

  She looked up at him. "You saved my life. Why?"

  "I like you," replied Cain. "And I've never been very fond of people like One-Time Charlie."

  "What can I do to repay you?" she asked.

  "You can tell me the truth about Santiago."

  She considered his request silently for a moment, then nodded.

  "If that's what you want," she said.

  "Father William is waiting for him. When is he due to show up?"

  "He's already here," said Moonripple.

  "Santiago's on Safe Harbor right now?" asked Cain, startled.

  "Yes."

  "How long has he been here?"

  "For years, I guess," answered Moonripple. "He lives here."

  "Well, I'll be damned!" muttered Cain. "Can you take me to him?"

  "No. But I can introduce you to someone who can."

  "When?"

  She shrugged. "Right now, if you'd like."

  Cain was suddenly aware of Father William's presence and turned to find the preacher standing some twenty feet away, his grisly trophy in his hand.

  "You're very persistent, Sebastian Cain," he said. "I admire that in a man."

  "If he's been here all along, why haven't you gone after him yet?" asked Cain.

  "I don't want him."

  "Why not?"

  "I have my reasons," said Father William.

  "Well, I have mine for wanting to find him."

  "So I've been given to understand."

  "I've got nothing against you," said Cain seriously. "But if you try to stop me, I'll kill you."

  "I wouldn't dream of it," said Father William, holding his hands out from his laser pistols.

  "Do you plan to be here when I get back?" asked Cain.

  "If you get back," the preacher corrected him.

  "I'll see you then," said Cain. He paused. "Aren't you going to wish me luck?" he added ironically.

  "God be with you, my son," said Father William sincerely.

  Then Cain was following Moonripple down the street, half expecting to feel the searing pain of a laser in the small of his back. He was mildly surprised when he turned the corner intact and unharmed, with Father William's parting words still echoing in his mind.

  21.

  Silent Annie never speaks,

  Never murmurs, never shrieks,

  Doesn't whisper, doesn't call—

  But someday, someday, she'll tell all.

  * * * *

  Orpheus had a feeling about her.

  There was an indefinable something—a look, an attitude, a way of carrying herself—that made him think she carried some enormous secret within her.

  He had no idea how right he was.

  Her name was Silent Annie. She wasn't mute, but she might as well have been.

  All anyone knew about her was that something pretty bad had happened when she was eleven or twelve and living on Raxar II. She spent two years in the hospital, and when she emerged she was physically recovered—but she never spoke again. She was capable of speech, her doctors said; but the experience she had undergone had traumatized her, possibly forever.

  She turned up in some mighty odd places over the years—Altair III, Goldenrod, Kalami II—but she never stayed for long. Nobody knew what she did on those worlds, and very few people knew that she called Safe Harbor home.

  "Silent Annie?" repeated Cain when Moonripple told him where she was taking him. "She's here, too?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "It seems like half the people Black Orpheus ever wrote about are on Safe Harbor," he said.

  "Not really, sir," replied Moonripple. "There's just you, and me, and your ship, and Father William, and Silent Annie."

  "Didn't Orpheus say that she was a deaf-mute?"

  "She doesn't talk, but she can hear everything you say."

  "What's her link to Santiago?"

  "She works for him, sir," said Moonripple.

  "You're sure?"

  Moonripple nodded her head. "Yes, sir."

  "By the way," said Cain, "you can stop calling me sir. My name's Sebastian."

  "Thank you, sir. It's a very pretty name."

  "You think so?" he asked dubiously.

  "Yes, I do. Don't you?"

  "I suppose it's better than Songbird," he said. He looked around. "Does Silent Annie live in the middle of a cornfield?" he asked.

  "Of course not," laughed Moonripple.

  "Well, that's just where we're headed," he noted. "We're almost a mile out of town."

  "She has a little house about half a mile up the road, sir."

  "Sebastian," he corrected her.

  "Sebastian."

  "How did you meet her?"

  Moonripple shrugged. "I don't even remember. At church, probably. It couldn't have been in the tavern, because she doesn't drink."

  "And you're good friends with her?"

  "Not best friends," she said, accentuating the word. "I've never had a best friend."

  "How well do you know her?"

  "Sometimes she stops by in the morning and we have tea together, and once in a while I visit her on my day off," answered Moonripple.

  "What makes you think she'll take me to Santiago?" persisted Cain.

  "Why wouldn't she?"

  "Because I'm a bounty hunter."

  "Santiago knows that, sir."

  "Santiago knows about me?" asked Cain, startled.

  "Santiago knows everything," she said.

  He stared at her but made no comment, and they spent the next few minutes walking in silence.

  "There it is, sir," she said, pointing to a small structure set in about fifty feet from the road.

  "It looks empty," said Cain.

  "Oh, she's home, sir," said Moonripple decisively.

  "What makes you so sure?" he asked.

  "Where else would she be?"

  "Beats the hell out of me," answered Cain, turning off the road and following a narrow path up to the front door.

  He waited for the security system to scan the two of them, and just as he was sure that he had been right about the home b
eing deserted, the door slid back into the wall and he found himself facing a small, slender woman dressed in a very old military daysuit.

  She was perhaps thirty years old, and her features were sharp and stark. She had a scar that began on her forehead and ran through her right eyebrow and down her cheek, which even cosmetic surgery had been unable to hide. She wore no makeup, which made her thin lips seem even thinner.

  "Hello, Annie," said Moonripple. "This is Sebastian Cain. He'd like to meet you."

  Silent Annie motioned for them to enter the house, and Cain followed the two women through a small foyer into a living room that was larger than it appeared from the outside. The walls were covered by shelving units, which in turn were covered by disorganized stacks of books and tapes. A dust-covered computer sat on a battered desk in one corner, and Cain could see from the text on the screen that she had been reading when they had interrupted her.

  The furniture matched the decor of the room: old, not very comfortable, and arranged without any concern for design or order. Silent Annie pointed first at Cain and then at the largest of the chairs, and he sat down, while Moonripple sat cross-legged on the floor next to him.

  Silent Annie made a pouring gesture.

  "Yes, I'd love some tea," said Moonripple. "What about you, sir?"

  "Tea will be fine," said Cain.

  Silent Annie forced a smile to her lips, then left the room for a moment and returned with a chipped porcelain pot and three cups carried on a plastic tray.

  "Thank you," said Cain, taking one of the cups.

  Silent Annie made a squeezing gesture with her hand.

  "I don't understand," said Cain.

  "She wants to know if you'd like a slice of lemon," said Moonripple.

  "No, thanks," said Cain as Moonripple reached out and took a cup for herself.

  Silent Annie walked over to a couch that was covered by a blanket, placed the tray on a nearby table, and sat down, staring questioningly at Cain.

  "He wants to meet Santiago," volunteered Moonripple. She paused for a moment. "I told him you'd take him there."

  Silent Annie arched an eyebrow.

  "I promised him, Annie," said Moonripple.

  Silent Annie made a gesture with her hands that Cain could not interpret.

  "Because he saved my life."

  Another gesture.

  "A very mean man came into the tavern and tried to hurt me, and he stopped him."

  Silent Annie stared at Cain, appraising him.

  "Will you take him, Annie?"

  Silent Annie sat motionless for a moment, then nodded her head.

  "Thank you!" said Moonripple happily. "I knew you would!"

  Silent Annie continued to stare at Cain, who met her gaze. Finally she turned back to Moonripple and made another gesture with her hands.

  Moonripple turned to Cain. "She wants me to leave now."

  "How will I talk to her?"

  "She's very good at making herself understood," Moonripple assured him.

  "Let's hope so," he said. "I didn't know what the hell she was doing when she spoke to you with her hands."

  "She's been teaching me sign language, but she has other ways of communicating."

  "Then I thank you for your help," said Cain, getting up and helping her to her feet. "I hope we meet again."

  "You're a very nice man, Sebastian," she said, standing on her tiptoes and kissing his cheek. Then, suddenly embarrassed, she turned and scurried out of the room.

  "How soon can we start?" asked Cain.

  Silent Annie held up her hand, palm outward, signaling him to wait, then walked to the window. When Moonripple reached the road and began heading back toward the village, she turned back to him.

  "Soon," she said.

  "What?" said Cain, startled.

  "We'll start soon enough," she replied in a firm voice. "But first I think we'd better have a little speak."

  "I thought you couldn't speak."

  "I can, when I have something to say, Mr. Cain," said Silent Annie.

  "Why do you pretend to be mute?" he asked.

  "So I won't have to answer stupid questions." She sat down and sipped from her cup of tea. "You've come to kill him, haven't you?"

  "Yes, I have."

  "Why?"

  "There's a price on his head."

  "And that's the only reason?"

  "How many more do you need?" replied Cain.

  "I had rather hoped for something more meaningful," said Silent Annie. "I would hate to think that we had misjudged you."

  "Misjudged me?" repeated Cain.

  "We've been waiting for you, Mr. Cain, ever since Santiago told Geronimo Gentry to start you off on the trail that eventually led you to Safe Harbor."

  "Let me get this straight," said Cain, confused. "Are you saying that Santiago wanted me to find him?"

  "That is precisely what I am saying."

  "I don't believe it."

  "Believe whatever you want," said Silent Annie with a shrug. "How do you think you got here, after all those years of virtually no progress?"

  He stared at her and said nothing.

  "I shouldn't imply that he made it easy for you," she continued. "That wouldn't have served his purposes. But he did make it possible; he decided to give you the initial impetus."

  "Why?"

  "He's been studying you for a long time, Mr. Cain," continued Silent Annie. "Ever since you came out to the Frontier."

  "Still why?"

  "Because he studies everyone."

  "But he doesn't allow everyone to find him."

  "No," she replied. "You are only the second."

  "Who was the first?"

  "It doesn't matter," said Silent Annie. "He's dead now."

  "What about Father William?" asked Cain.

  "What about him?"

  "He found Santiago."

  "You're wrong, Mr. Cain," replied Silent Annie. "He's not hunting for Santiago."

  "Then what's he doing here?"

  "I'm not sure you'd believe it if I told you," she said.

  "Perhaps not," agreed Cain. "But why don't you tell me anyway, and let me make up my own mind?"

  "He's here to protect Santiago."

  "From me?" asked Cain skeptically. "Then why didn't he take me on when he had the chance?"

  "He's not worried about you."

  Cain was silent for a moment. "The Angel?" he asked at last.

  She nodded. "He'll be here before too much longer."

  "I take it that he's gotten this far without any help from Santiago."

  "That is correct."

  "And that Santiago doesn't want to be found by the Angel?" continued Cain.

  "I doubt that he's given it any thought whatsoever," replied Silent Annie. "Protecting him is Father William's idea, not his."

  "Why would Father William help a man with a price on his head?" asked Cain.

  "That's what I hope to show you before you meet Santiago," said Silent Annie, finishing her tea and pouring herself another cup.

  "Where does Moonripple fit into all this?"

  "She's just a very pleasant little barmaid, nothing more."

  "But she knew Santiago was on Safe Harbor," he pointed out.

  "So did everyone else you spoke to this morning."

  "And no one's tried to turn him in for the reward?"

  "Actually, five or six people have," said Silent Annie. "You'll find them buried in various cemeteries around the planet."

  "Let's get back to Moonripple for a minute," said Cain, trying to assimilate everything Silent Annie had told him. "She's been hitting a world a month for most of her life. Why did she come here?"

  "Just chance, nothing more."

  "And why has she stayed?"

  "For the same reason I have," said Silent Annie.

  "All right," said Cain. "Why have you stayed?"

  "Because Santiago is a great man."

  "Santiago is a thief and a murderer."

  "It's all a matter o
f viewpoint," she said.

  "Viewpoint's got nothing to do with it," replied Cain. "The man has been killing and plundering since before you were born. The Democracy's managed to implicate him in almost forty murders, and there have probably been more than a hundred they don't know anything about. And I have it on good authority that he's got warehouses filled with stolen merchandise all over the Inner Frontier."

  "May I assume that your authority is the Jolly Swagman?"

  "He wouldn't be risking his life if he didn't know they existed," answered Cain.

  "I'm not arguing their existence," said Silent Annie. "Merely your interpretation of them." She paused. "And incidentally, I don't see the Swagman risking his life at this moment."

  "Is he a part of this, too?"

  "Absolutely not," she replied. "He was once, but Santiago dismissed him."

  "A falling-out between thieves?" suggested Cain.

  "There was only one thief involved," she replied sternly. "And he no longer works for us. I argued in favor of killing him, but Santiago chose to let him live."

  Cain leaned back and sighed. "All right," he said at last. "I've heard a lot of talk from you and Moonripple about how Santiago is a great man. Suppose you tell me why you think so."

  "Fair enough," said Silent Annie. "You tell me that Santiago is responsible for the deaths of a hundred and forty men. Let me begin by telling you that the actual figure is closer to eight hundred."

  "That makes him a great man?" said Cain ironically.

  "How many men have you killed, Mr. Cain?"

  "That's not at issue here," said Cain.

  "Tell me anyway."

  "Thirty-seven."

  "You're lying, Mr. Cain," she said with a smile.

  "The hell I am."

  "I happen to know that you killed more than five thousand men and women on Sylaria alone."

  "That was war," he said.

  "No, Mr. Cain. That was revolution."

  "Are you trying to tell me that Santiago is a revolutionary?" he asked skeptically.

  "Yes, I am."

  "A woman named Sargasso Rose suggested the same thing," he said. "I didn't believe her, either. Who is he supposed to be revolting against?"

  "The Democracy."

  Cain laughed out loud. "Are you seriously suggesting that he expects to overthrow the Democracy?"

  "No, Mr. Cain. The Democracy controls tens of thousands of worlds, and hold some ninety-eight percent of the human population in the galaxy. There are more than thirty million ships in its navy, and it has inexhaustible wealth and resources to draw upon. It would be foolish to dream of overthrowing it."