Santiago: A Myth of the Far Future Read Free

any.”
    “Nevertheless, they exist—and
they’re made by the people who can enforce them.”
    “I’ll keep it in mind.”
    “See that you do.”
    “Or you’ll brain me with your
metal hand?” asked Cain.
    “It’s a possibility.”
    Cain smiled.
    “What’s so funny?” demanded Giles
Sans Pitié.
    “You’re a bounty hunter.”
    “So?”
    “Bounty hunters don’t kill people
for free. Who’s going to pay you to kill me?”
    “I’ve got to protect what’s mine,”
replied Giles Sans Pitié seriously. “I just want to be sure that we understand
each other: if you go poaching on my territory again, we’re going to come to
blows.” He slammed his metal hand down on the table, putting a large dent in
it. “Mine are usually harder.”
    “I imagine they are,” said Cain.
    “Then you’ll steer clear of
Praeteep?”
    “I’m not aware of any pressing
business engagements there.”
    “That’s not exactly the answer I
was looking for.”
    “I’d suggest you settle for it,”
said Cain. “It’s the best you’re going to get.”
    Giles Sans Pitié stared at him for
a moment, then shrugged. “It could be years before anyone hides there again,
maybe even longer. I suppose there’s no law that says we can’t behave cordially
in the meantime.”
    “I’m all for living in peace with
my fellow man,” said Cain agreeably.
    Giles Sans Pitié looked amused.
“You picked a mighty strange profession for a man who feels that way.”
    “Perhaps.”
    “Well, shall we talk?”
    “What about?”
    “What about?” repeated Giles Sans
Pitié mockingly. “What do two bounty hunters ever talk about when they meet over a bottle of rum?”
    And so they fell to discussing
Santiago.
    They spoke of the worlds where he
was most recently thought to have been, and the crimes he was most recently
thought to have committed. Both had heard the rumor that he had robbed a mining
colony on Bemor VIII; both discounted it. Both also had heard that a caravan of
unmanned cargo ships had been plundered in the Antares region; Cain thought it
might well be the work of Santiago, while his companion felt he was far more
likely to have been on Doradus IV at the time, masterminding a triple
assassination. They exchanged information about the planets they themselves had
been to without finding any trace of him, and of the other bounty hunters they
had encountered who had added still more planets to the list.
    “Who’s after him now?” asked Giles
Sans Pitié when their tallies had been completed.
    “Everyone.”
    “I mean, who most recently?”
    “I hear the Angel has moved into
the area,” answered Cain.
    “What makes you think he’s come
for Santiago?”
    Cain merely stared at him.
    “Stupid remark,” said Giles Sans
Pitié. “Forget I made it.” He paused. “The Angel’s supposed to be just about
the best.”
    “So they say.”
    “I thought he worked the Outer
Frontier, somewhere way out on the Rim.”
    Cain nodded. “I guess he decided
Santiago’s not there.”
    “I can name you a million places
Santiago isn’t, ” said Giles Sans Pitié. “Why do you
suppose he thinks he’s on the Inner Frontier?”
    Cain shrugged.
    “Do you think he’s got a source?”
persisted Giles Sans Pitié.
    “Anything’s possible.”
    “It’s more than possible,” he said
after a moment’s consideration. “He wouldn’t move his base of operations
halfway across the galaxy if he didn’t have hard information. What planet is he
working out of?”
    “How many worlds are there out
there?” replied Cain with a shrug. “Take your choice.”
    Giles Sans Pitié frowned. “Still,
he might know something worth listening to.”
    “What makes you think he’ll talk
to you, even if you find him?”
    “Because the one thing bounty
hunters never lie about is Santiago; you know that. As long as he stays alive,
he makes all of us look bad.”
    “Maybe the Angel does things
differently where he comes from,” suggested Cain.
    “Then