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It was clear that the Hungarian had risen to the bait and was rapidly becoming enmeshed in what to him was a puzzle of electronics and computer logic. Hosato was glad to see him involved, though the conversation rapidly became too complex and technical for laymen such as himself to follow.

When James got up and wandered off into the small kitchen and no one noticed, Hosato decided to follow suit. The other three were huddled over the monitor log copies and didn’t even look up as he left.

James was pouring himself a glass of pop and looked up as Hosato joined him. He brightened noticeably.

“Could you pour two more of those while you’re at it?” Hosato asked.

“Sure. No problem.”

As the boy hurried about his errand, Hosato pondered the best way to approach the subject on his mind.

“Say, James,” he said at last. “We haven’t had much time to talk since the blowup at Mc. Crae.”

“Talk about what?” James asked, passing his friend the glass of soft drink and perching on the counter.

“About your future, mostly,” Hosato responded pointedly.

“I thought that was all settled,” James replied innocently. “I’m going with you.”

“It’s not that simple, and you know it. Look, James,” Hosato began. “You don’t know anything about me or how I live. Now, I don’t know what kind of romantic notion you have in your head about the kind of person I am, but it’s not a life-style you enter into casually.”

“I’m not doing this casually,” James protested. “I asked you to take me along with you before things went bad at the complex before Dad was killed, too. Besides, I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

“That’s what I mean!” Hosato pounced on the phrase.

Without realizing it, he began to pace back and forth in the cramped kitchen.

“James, there are lots of things you could do. You’re bright. You’re energetic. You’ve got guts. And you’ve got a whole lot of options before you. Don’t be stampeded into any one life just because you feel there’s no other choice. Particularly my kind of life. Now I don’t mean to sound negative on all this, but I’ve been traveling the star lanes most of my life and I’ve seen this time and time again. Men and women working at jobs they hate, their whole lives just a drone existence, all with the same story, 'I didn’t have any other choice.' Well, by God, you do have choices. Life should be a series of choices. Some lock you in, a few lock you out, and then there are others that open more doors. Making good choices demands brains, some luck, and a whole lot of guts. And most of all, it takes that something that makes us human the will to make ourselves better. James, don’t lock yourself into the first chance that you get. And that’s what this life will do. Don’t be looking back ten or fifteen years past the star lanes wishing you hadn’t committed to something you can’t get out of. James, don’t make choices like a programmed robot!”

Hosato stopped, realizing how emotional he was becoming.

“Is that why you said no the first time I asked you?” the boy prompted.

“That’s right. I’ll tell you now, I was tempted to go along with it even then. My work is lonely. To give you an idea how lonely, Suzi was my best friend until she was destroyed, covering our retreat. Do you understand what I’m saying. My best friend was a robot. That should give you an idea of how low things can get.”

“I liked Suzi,” James protested.

Hosato ignored him. “You’ve got a dozen ways you could go with your life. I’m only one of them. At this moment, I just happen to be the closest option to you. I can’t let you make your decision on that basis.” Then with a quick wink, an attempt to lighten the conversation, he added, “Listen kid, I’ve got my own dubious concept of honor, you know.”

“How did you get into this business?” James asked pointedly.

Hosato was silent for a few moments, then leaned against the counter as he answered.

“That’s a good question, James, and it deserves an honest answer. With me, I really didn’t have a choice, or rather, the choice was made for me. It’s a family business, and I was raised into it. For me, it’s as natural as breathing. For many reasons, I couldn’t leave it now if I wanted to. But I’ll tell you this much, James, I’m not particularly happy with what I do. Sometimes I wonder, if I were starting all over again and given a choice, and I knew what I know now, if I wouldn’t walk away from it all without looking back. You’ve got that choice, and I want you to “think it through before commiting yourself.”

James bit his lip thoughtfully. “All right, Hosato,” he said. “Tell me about this terrible life. What do you do?”

Now it was Hosato’s turn to lapse into silence. Waves of bitter memories held in check by sheer force of will now flooded over him. He had set himself up for this question; now he had to answer it, both for the boy and for himself.

“I’m a killing machine,” he said quietly. “I kill people. Not because they’re a threat or even because they may have offended me—not that that’s a good reason. I kill because I’m paid to.”

He fixed James with a calm gaze as he continued.

“You want to know what it means to be in my line of work. I said you don’t have any friends. Well, that was a lie. You have lots of friends. But your profession makes a mockery of the word 'friendship.' You worm your way into people’s confidence, and when they trust you implicitly, you destroy them. Rick’s my friend. We used to drink together back at Mc. Crae. All the time we were together, I was getting information to shut the complex down. At the veiy least, it would have put him out of work—permanently, if anyone ever found out he was a security leak. If he had found out what I was about or surprised me while I was working, I would have killed him.”

He deliberately let his voice harden. “You remember what it’s like to kill people, don’t you?”

James’s gaze wavered and dropped to the floor.

Hosato fought and conquered an urge to console the boy. He waited in silence while the boy relived his first blooding.

“Hosato,” James said at last, not lifting his gaze, “I don’t know about the killing. Back at Ravensteel, when I killed those men… I don’t know. I’m glad I saved our lives, that I was good enough with weapons to do it, but I still feel a little sick when I think about it!”

“Are you proud?” Hosato asked.

“What?” James raised his eyes at last.

“Are you proud of killing two men. If you get a chance, are you going to brag about it to the Hungarian?”

The boy hesitated, then dropped his gaze once more and shook his head. “No,” he said softly. “They were just enemies I killed. They weren’t people, I guess. They were just enemies.”

“Look at me, James,” Hosato demanded. He fixed his eyes deep into James. “They were people you killed. They weren’t robots that you terminated. They were two human beings, lives with loved ones, lives with dreams—people capable of wonderful things, as well, of course, as killing you. They weren’t just enemies, they were human beings.”

Hosato slid an arm around the boy’s shoulders. “James,” he said. “Let me tell you what my grandfather told me, the same grandfather who trained me for this work. He said, 'You must learn to kill because it is necessary. To be effective, you must kill coldly and without hesitation. But killing is not to be taken lightly nor is it to be taken pridefully. Kill as well, as skillfully as you can, knowing that killing is man’s fatal flaw.'

“That’s good advice, James. Listen to it.”

They both turned, to find Sasha framed in the door.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she said, “but I think we’ve got something out here.”

Hosato clapped James lightly on the back. “Think about what I’ve said. There’s no rush. Now, go on ahead. There’s something I want to say to Sasha.”