"Will they meet with me?"
"No. I gave them the message, exactly as you worded it. They'll meet only with Santiago."
"Where?"
"Kabal III."
"Never heard of it. How far away is it?"
"Perhaps ten light-years."
"Is it an oxygen world?"
"Yes," replied the albino. "That's their only concession to Santiago."
"Concession?" repeated Dante, surprised. "Don't they breathe oxygen?"
"I'm not aware that they breathe anything at all," answered Moby Dick.
"Why would they choose this particular world?"
" It's a deserted colony world, with a couple of empty Tradertowns. There won't be anyone there to interfere."
"Which means they'll have time to booby-trap every inch of it."
"They won't need to," said Moby Dick. "Try to understand: These are aliens who conquer entire worlds with no help from anyone. You have no conception of their powers, no idea what they're capable of."
"So tell me."
"I don't know the specifics. I just know that time after time they accomplish the seemingly-impossible with no visible effort."
Thanks for nothing, thought Dante. "I want you to get back to them and tell them Santiago will only meet them on a world of our choosing."
"If you insist, but . . ."
"But what?"
"But they have September Morn. It would seem to be a seller's market."
"Tell them anyway. If they don't know what a bluff is, they might think Santiago won't come under any other conditions. I mean, hell, he's never even met her. He has no reason to walk into a trap to try to save her."
"Whatever you say. Stay there."
Moby Dick broke the connection, and contacted him again twenty minutes later.
"Well?" demanded Dante.
"No deal. They may not know how to tell a lie, but they know how to spot one. They'll only meet him on Kabal III."
"At least we tried."
"What now?" asked Moby Dick.
"It's obviously a trap. We can't let him go there alone." Dante did some quick mental calculations. "I can have half our men here in six days' time. Let's set the meeting for then."
Moby Dick's expression said it was a hopeless request, but he agreed to pass it on. He was back in communication with Dante ten minutes later.
"Big mistake," he said. "We gave them a time frame. Now they say that if Santiago's not on Kabal III in one Standard day, they'll kill September Morn rather than continue holding her for ransom."
"Shit!" muttered Dante. "She's going to die, and it's my fault! If I'd left it alone, the goddamned government would have come up with the money!"
"Don't blame yourself too much," replied Moby Dick, not without sympathy. "You didn't know who or what you were dealing with."
"Excuse me, Mr. Alighieri," said the computer, "but there is a Priority communication coming in from a Mr. Santiago."
"No problem," said the albino. "I'll talk to you tomorrow. You can let me know what he said then."
He cut the connection, and an instant later Silvermane's visage replaced his.
"I found him," he announced.
"Mongaso Taylor?"
"That's right." Something in his manner precluded any questions about what had happened. "I should reach Hadrian II in about 13 Standard hours. I'll meet you in Trajan just before noon." He paused. "Did you talk any sense into the lady poet?"
"We have to talk about her. I'll go to my ship and get back to you in half an hour."
"I'm getting tired of that," said Silvermane. "Do you have any reason to think someone is monitoring this?"
"No, I'm just trying to be safe."
"Then talk to me now."
Dante sighed deeply. "The aliens kidnapped her."
Silvermane seemed unsurprised and unconcerned. "I told you to get her off the planet." He sighed. "Well, they'll pay the ransom and that'll be that. I hope you learned your lesson."
"It's not that simple."
"Oh?" asked Silvermane, suddenly alert.
"I made a terrible blunder," said Dante. "I tried to bluff them, to scare them with your name."
"Tell me about it."
Dante filled him in. "And their last message is that they've got her on Kabal III, and they'll kill her if you don't show up tomorrow."
"What are they asking for her?"
"You're not seriously thinking of going there?" demanded Dante. "It's a trap!"
"Of course it's a trap."
"I'm glad we agree on that," said Dante, relieved.
"I don't think my pistols will be much good against them. I can stop by Hadrian on the way to Kabal. Can you hunt up a molecular imploder by tomorrow morning?"
"What the hell are you talking about?" shouted Dante at the holographic image. "They're waiting there to kill you, and it's their world! They know every inch of it!"
"You don't seem to understand. They've called me out."
"So what?"
"This goes with the job, poet," explained Silvermane. "If I back down now and get away with it, I'll be tempted to back down again and again. What kind of Santiago would I be then?"
"A live one."
"Don't bury me just yet," he said wryly. "I plan to make a hell of a fight of it—and I've never lost."
"You told me once that you didn't ever want to be in the same sector with them," Dante reminded him.
"That was Joshua Silvermane talking," said the image. "I'm Santiago."
"Surely there's something I can say, something I can do . . ." said Dante.
"There is," replied Silvermane. "Make sure you have the imploder ready for me."
He broke the connection, though Dante stared at the spot where his image had been for a full minute before turning away.
He's going to die, and there's nothing I can do to prevent it, he thought miserably.
He walked over to a mirror and stared at the face that confronted him, searching for all the hidden flaws that he knew must be lurking there.
We're going to lose another Santiago, and it's going to be my fault again, just like the last one. I don't understand it. I try so hard to do the right thing. Why am I as good at getting them killed as I am at finding them?
Part 6: SANTIAGO'S BOOK
38.
He's proud and he's arrogant, fearless and bold;
If you travel with him you'll never grow old.
Those who oppose him have drawn their last breath:
He's the King of the Outlaws—his partner is Death.
Moby Dick stood in the corridor, waiting for the security system to identify him and inform Dante of his presence. Finally the door dilated and he stepped into the poet's room.
"Did you get it?" asked Dante anxiously.