"God didn't give me Silvermane's abilities, and medical science hasn't given me the Bandit's, so I have to use what I've got."
They stopped by a bar about half a block away, and Dante described Silvermane. He got as far as the hair and the height.
"Yeah, absolutely, he was here maybe half an hour ago," said the bartender. "Couldn't mistake him for anyone else. He was looking for Billy Green-Eyes."
"Where would we find Billy Green-Eyes?" asked Dante.
"Same place as always. Go two blocks down, turn left, and you'll come to a small park built around a fountain. Check the first bench you come to."
"It sounds simple enough," remarked Dante. He turned to Matilda. "Let's go. The fireworks should be all over by now."
They followed the bartender's directions. When they turned and approached the park, they saw Silvermane standing, hands on hips, talking to an emaciated man who was seated on the bench.
As they drew near, they could see that the man was horribly mutilated. He was missing his left arm, his right leg, and his left eye. Part of his left ear was gone, burned off by a laser beam. He was dressed in rags, and a cheap pair of crutches were balanced against the back of the bench.
Silvermane looked up and nodded a greeting.
"Hi," said Dante. "Where's Billy Green-Eyes? Have you found him yet?"
"You're looking at him," said Silvermane.
"Him?" said Dante, startled. "He's what you came to Trentino to kill?"
"He's not quite the man he used to be," said Silvermane with a grim smile. "Are you, Billy?"
The man on the bench muttered something unintelligible.
"What the hell did he do?" asked Matilda.
"About seven years ago a plague broke out on New Damascus, way out in the Belladonna Cluster. Billy-boy here stowed away on the ship that was racing the vaccine to them, killed the crew, and held them up for a few million credits before he delivered the vaccine. Thousands died during the negotiations." He paused. "Sweet man, our Billy."
"So what happened to him?"
"Six of the survivors happened to him," continued Silvermane. "Billy killed them all, but not before they did what you see. He'd blown all his money on seed, and his deeds made him a pariah even among the scum he associated with, so no one would help him or give him money to go back to the Democracy for the necessary prosthetics. Hell, even if he'd managed to borrow the money, they'd have jailed and executed him the second they spotted him. So Billy has been rotting out here for the past few years, isn't that right, Billy?"
Another unintelligible answer.
"He lives in the filthiest corner of the filthiest warehouse on Trentino. Each morning he comes out to the park and sits here, hat in hand, begging, but of course everyone knows he's the man who extorted millions for the New Damascus vaccine, so he probably takes in about three credits a week, all from newcomers. We're just been discussing his situation, haven't we, Billy?"
Billy glared at him balefully with his one remaining green eye, but said nothing.
You cold son of a bitch, thought Dante. Whatever he's done, I don't know how you can shoot a helpless old cripple who can't lift a finger to defend himself.
"And now we're all through discussing it," concluded Silvermane.
"All right," said Dante uncomfortably. "Shoot him and let's get it over with."
"I'm not shooting anyone," replied Silvermane.
"Oh?"
"Four thousand men, women and children died on New Damascus while Billy was negotiating a price for the vaccine. Killing's too easy for him."
"So what are you going to do to him?" asked Dante.
Silvermane stared at the emaciated one-eyed, one-armed, one- legged beggar. "Not a thing," he said. "Have a long life, Billy." He turned and began walking back to the spaceport.
Jesus, you're even colder than I thought, mused Dante. And then: Still, that's very much like justice.
"I hope he lives another century," said Silvermane.
"He deserves to," agreed Matilda.
"Still, I'll give him credit for facing those New Damascans. There were six of them, and he stood his ground, for what little good it did him."
"You sound like you admire him."
"I admire the trait, not the man," explained Silvermane. "I suspect there's a lot to admire about your One-Armed Bandit as well."
"There is," she admitted.
"Seems a shame," he continued. "From what I've heard, he's a moral man doing the best he can."
"His best isn't good enough," said Dante firmly. "He can destroy what we're trying to build."
"I know," said Silvermane. "That's why I've decided to accept your offer."
31.
The Plymouth Rocker mourns a love
That used to be and is no more.
He curses to the skies above—
A most unhappy troubadour.
Bodini II wasn't much of a world. Small, flat, green, agricultural, dotted here and there by impenetrable thorn forests. It had a trio of towns, each with a small spaceport where the local farmers and agricultural cartels brought their goods to ship to the nearby colonies and mining worlds.
It was here that Silvermane took Dante, Matilda and Virgil when they left Trentino. They passed through Customs without incident and stopped for a quick lunch in one of the spaceport restaurants.
"Couldn't you just send this guy a subspace message telling him to join us?" asked Dante.
"Not the Plymouth Rocker," answered Silvermane.
"And we really need him?"
"He's the one I want."
"What makes him so special?"
"I trust him." Silvermane paused. "There aren't many men I've trusted over the years. He's the best of them."
"I heard a lot about him maybe ten, fifteen years ago," volunteered Virgil. "Not a word since then. I figured he was dead."
"Why?" asked Dante.
"When you stop hearing about people out here, especially people like him, you just naturally assume someone or something caught up with them."
"I heard someone mention him not too long ago," said Matilda. "Dimitrios, maybe, or perhaps the Bandit."
"He had quite a reputation back then," said Virgil. "What happened to him?"
"To him?" replied Silvermane. "Nothing."
"The way you emphasized that," interjected Dante, "something happened to someone."
"You're a perceptive man," said Silvermane. "I suppose that goes with being a poet."
"So what happened?" said Dante, ignoring the compliment.
"He had a woman," answered Silvermane. "Lovely lady. Mind like a steel trap. Totally fearless. Devoted to him. They made a hell of a team."
"Did she have a name?" asked Dante, pulling out a stylus.
"She had a lot of them, depending on the situation," said Silvermane. "I first knew her as Priscilla, so that's the way I think of her. They did everything together, Priscilla and the Rocker. I don't remember ever seeing them more than eight or ten feet apart. He'd start a sentence and she'd finish it, or the other way around. If you were with them for any length of time, you finally appreciated what the term 'soulmate' really means."