"How soon do I leave?"
"As soon as you can get to the spaceport."
"Well," said the Indian, "you usually know what you're doing. I suppose this will make sense to someone."
He turned and left.
Dante had a cup of coffee, then went down to the lobby and had the desk clerk summon a robotic rickshaw, which he took out to September Morn's house.
"Hi," he said, when she ordered the door to dilate and let him pass through. "How are you feeling today?"
"Much better, thank you," she replied. "I had to buy a new door, but otherwise the house seems intact." She paused. "My sister seems to have packed up and left. Would you know anything about that?"
"I seem to remember her expressing some interest in seeing the galaxy."
September Morn smiled. "You're a lousy liar."
"Let's hope you're a good one," said Dante.
"What are you talking about?"
"I notice that Trajan has a police department. Do they have a Neverlie Machine?"
"I suppose so. Most police departments do," said September Morn. "Why?"
"I want you to submit to it, turn it up to lethal, and make a holodisc of yourself swearing that Dimitrios was killed by Santiago."
"You're crazy!" she said. "It'll fry me in an instant!"
"No it won't," he corrected her. "You'll be telling the truth. The Bandit was Santiago when he killed Dimitrios."
A look of comprehension crossed her face. "He was, wasn't he?"
"Right. Can you do it?"
"I'll do it twice. Once at minimum voltage, so it just gives me a little jolt if it thinks I'm lying. Once I'm convinced that it's safe, I'll do what you want."
"Good. I'll send Accidental Barnes with you, to make sure none of the police play any games with the machine while you're in it."
"I assume there's a reason for this?"
"Just bring me the holodisc when you're done."
"All right."
He left and went back into town. Before the day was out, a huge man, taller than Silvermane and almost as broad as Moby Dick, wandered into the Fat Chance, looked around, spotted Dante sitting at a table with the albino, and approached them.
"You've come a long way and accomplished a hell of a lot, Rhymer," he said in his booming voice. "I've been hearing about you all the way back on Delvania."
Dante jumped to his feet. "Tyrannosaur Bailey!" he said. "I never thought I'd see you again."
"I never thought I'd leave Delvania—but when I heard that you killed Tweedledee and Tweedledum, I decided that you actually did what you set out to do and found Santiago, and the time had come to take a stand. You point him out to me, and I'll sign up to follow him."
"I can't," said Dante. "We've had a couple of unsuccessful candidates. But the organization is intact, and we could sure use you on our side."
"There's no Santiago?"
"At the moment."
Bailey shrugged. "What the hell—I'm here."
"Then you'll join us?"
"Yeah, I'll join you. Truth to tell, I was starting to feel a little claustrophobic back on Delvania." He paused. "So what do I do now?"
Dante stared at him for a long moment, then spoke.
"Do you really want to help?"
"I said I did."
"Then I want you to do back to Delvania—"
"I just left!" interrupted Bailey.
"Just for a short time," continued Dante.
"And what do I do once I get there?"
"Burn your tavern down."
Bailey stared at him as if he was crazy. "Do what?"
"You heard me. Burn it down."
"Just go home, burn it down, and leave?"
"And tell everyone who will listen that Santiago did it, and you want his head." Dante paused. "I especially want you to tell that to any member of the Democracy, or anyone who might soon be traveling to the Democracy. Can you do it?"
"Of course I can do it!"
"Good. Can you leave tonight?"
"I just got here. I plan to eat, shower with real water, and sleep in a real bed. I'll go back in the morning."
"Fair enough."
"What about you?" asked Moby Dick after Tyrannosaur Bailey had gone off in search of a meal. "You're sending everyone else off on missions. What do you do now?"
"Go back to Valhalla, I suppose, and see what needs taking care of," said Dante. "Matilda and the Plymouth Rocker are still there, and they probably need some help." He paused. "You might as well come along."
"Me? I've got a business to run right here."
"It'll get by without you, and we may need you to use your alien contacts on our behalf."
"For how long?"
"I don't knew. A few days. Maybe a week."
"All right," agreed the albino. "I don't suppose there's any sense backing out now that we've already beaten the Tweedle."
"We'll leave in the morning."
"How about tonight?" said Moby Dick. "I've got nothing better to do. We might as well get started."
Dante shook his head. "I want to stick around to make sure Bailey leaves for Delvania. Then we'll go."
Moby Dick shrugged. "You're the boss."
"In the meantime, get hold of Deuteronomy Priest and convince him that Santiago is the anti-Christ."
"And then what?"
Dante smiled. "Then turn him loose."
They took off in mid-morning. During the flight, Dante contacted Wilbur Connaught and had him transfer half the money he'd raised to a numbered account on Far London. Then he climbed into a Deepsleep pod—Moby Dick was already ensconced in one—and didn't wake up until they'd broken out of orbit around Valhalla and were about to touch down.
Matilda was waiting for him, as were the Plymouth Rocker, Accidental Barnes, Blue Peter, Virgil Soaring Hawk, and dozens of other members of the organization. Even Tyrannosaur Bailey, possessed of a faster ship, was there.
"I hear you've been a busy man," said Matilda. "You look like you've lost a little weight."
"I'm lucky that's all I lost," he replied.
"The Rhymer's done pretty well to hang onto his life when so many men and aliens were trying to relieve him of it," agreed Moby Dick.
Dante introduced the albino to the assembled group, then went off to the office with Matilda, who'd gotten a description of Silvermane's death and the destruction of Kabal III but wanted all the details.
"I just love the fact that you had Navy kill the Tweedle!" she said when he was done.
"I think it was an elegant solution," replied Dante. "They were the only ones with sufficient firepower to destroy the planet—and not only did they do our dirty work for us, but the one crime we didn't want laid at Santiago's door has been officially blamed on the Tweedle."
"And now you're getting Santiago blamed for crimes he didn't commit."
"We lost sight of that along the way," said Dante. "He's got to be a criminal, important enough for the Democracy to be aware of his activities, and yet not enough of a threat for them to go after him with the full force of their military might."
"The Bandit was right," said Matilda.