"Who are you?" he demanded, staring at Moby Dick.
"And I'm pleased to meet you too," said the albino.
Silvermane did not look amused, and Dante immediately stepped between them. "This is Moby Dick," he said. "He's the one who's supplying the imploder."
"Then I thank you," said Silvermane sternly. He looked around. "Where is it?"
"It's in a safe place," said Moby Dick.
"Get it. I don't have any time to waste."
"Once we reach an agreement."
Silvermane glared at him. "How much?"
"No money."
"Then what?"
"I'm coming along."
"I won't protect you," said Silvermane.
"I don't need protecting," said the albino.
"Against these two, everyone needs protecting."
"Not me," said Moby Dick. "I have an arrangement with them."
Silvermane looked at the huge man as if he was the lowest form of life, but he made no reply.
"Well, we don't have an arrangement," interjected Dante. "Maybe we could use some help." Silvermane turned to him. "This whole planet loves September Morn, practically worships her. Give me a day. I'm sure I can gather a few hundred men and women to come along and—"
"Santiago doesn't beg for help," said Silvermane.
"But he doesn't have to turn it down if it's freely offered," urged Dante.
"They didn't challenge Hadrian II. They challenged me."
"That's your final word?"
"It is."
"At least let me come with you," said Dante. "You don't know what she looks like. If they have more than one captive and they've done them any damage, you won't know which one's her."
Silvermane frowned. "Just how stupid do you think I am? I've pulled up a dozen holographs of her from the local newsdisc."
"Then consider this: if you're good enough to kill the aliens—aliens she felt could not possibly be defeated—she may find you so terrifying that she won't want to put herself in your power."
Silvermane considered what Dante had said for a moment, then nodded his head almost imperceptibly. "All right, you can come." He looked at Virgil. "But not the Indian. I don't like him."
"I go where he goes," said Virgil.
"You're staying here."
"I'm not one of your sycophants," said Virgil. "I don't take my orders from you. I work for the poet."
Suddenly Virgil was looking down the barrel of Silvermane's pistol.
"When I tell you to do something," began Silvermane, "you'll do it!"
"Stop!" yelled Dante, so suddenly and so loud that everyone froze. "Is this the way Santiago treats his allies? I thought you saved your bullets for your enemies."
Silvermane looked uncertain for just a moment, then holstered his gun.
"All right," he said to Virgil. "But stay clear of me, in the ship and on the planet." He turned to Moby Dick. "I've wasted enough time. Let's get the imploder."
He walked out the door, followed by Virgil.
"Four heroes off to slay the monsters," said Moby Dick to Dante, so softly that the other two couldn't hear him. A sardonic smile crossed his face. "I wonder how many of us will still be alive when we get there?"
39.
Oh, Tweedledee and Tweedledum,
The parts are greater than the sum.
They send their foes to Kingdom Come,
Do Tweedledee and Tweedledum.
Kabal III was a dark world, considering how close it was to its yellow sun, dark and bleak and gray. Rocky surfaces with jagged edges covered the surface. Undrinkable water created small canyons as it wound through the landscape. Opaque clouds crawled slowly across the sky.
"I don't like the looks of this place," said Dante, looking at the viewscreen as the ship took up orbit around it.
"Nobody asked you to come," answered Silvermane, who sat in the pilot's chair, meticulously oiling and cleaning his pistols and checking his ammunition.
"I've never seen them," said Virgil, "but based on all the stories I've heard, you're wasting your time. The most a bullet or two will do is make 'em angry."
"Probably," agreed Silvermane. "But if the imploder doesn't function or doesn't work, I need fallback protection."
"Mine would be: run like hell," said the Indian.
"That's why I'm Santiago and you're not."
Dante hadn't taken his eyes off the screen. "Seven degrees Celsius, 1.17 times Standard gravity, not much oxygen." He sighed deeply. "So you can't use your speed, you can't stand a sustained battle, and you're not going to be able to work up a sweat. Are you sure you don't want to wait until I can mobilize some of the people on Hadrian?"
"If I can't defeat them, they can't either."
"I see that being Santiago is not necessarily conducive to modesty," noted Virgil wryly.
"They've destroyed entire armies," shot back Silvermane. "There's no reason to believe 200 yokels from Hadrian will turn the tide of battle. I'm the best there is. Either I can beat them or I can't." He turned to Moby Dick. "It's about time you told me what you know about them."
"I know they're undefeated," said the albino.
"So is every man out here who carries a weapon."
"They don't carry weapons."
"Oh?" said Silvermane. "What did they to get you to work for them?"
"Nothing."
Silvermane's face mirrored his contempt. "You gave in without a fight?"
"They didn't conquer me," answered Moby Dick. "They dealt with me."
"And you dealt with the enemy."
"I thought the Democracy was the enemy," said Moby Dick. "Or is the enemy whoever you're mad at this week?"
"You're here under sufferance," said Silvermane coldly. "Don't forget it."
"Fine," said the albino. "Give me back my imploder and I'll leave."
Silvermane stared coldly at him but made no reply.
"Got 'it!" said Dante, still looking at the screen. "Increase the image and sharpen it," he commanded, and suddenly a small fortress came into view. It was made of local stone, poorly constructed, unimpressive from any angle. "Bring that up in three dimensions, and give us a 360-degree view of it, then give us an overhead."
"That doesn't look like it'd keep anyone out," remarked Virgil, studying the image.
"It won't," said Moby Dick.
"Then what—?"
"They have hostages," interrupted the albino. "It was built to keep them in."
"Computer, take us down," commanded Silvermane. "Land us 400 yards due south of the fortress that's on your screen."
"The terrain is too uneven," replied the ship. "There is a flat area that will accommodate my bulk 427 yards south-southeast of the fortress. Will that be acceptable?"
"Do it."
The ship broke out of orbit and headed toward the planet. A few moments later it touched down on the precise spot the computer had pinpointed.