"They got where they are by following the rules and fitting the mold," replied Dante. "All the men who broke the mold are out here, or on the Outer Frontier."
"Or dead," said Virgil.
"Or dead," agreed Dante. "Killing is one of the Democracy's specialties. They killed a friend of mine as we were preparing to come here."
"Did he have it coming?"
"Nobody has it coming—and it was a she."
"What was her crime?"
"She tripped a man," said Dante.
"That's all?"
"That's all," repeated Dante. "The Democracy doesn't seem to care who trips it these days."
"What uniquely individual crimes did you commit?" asked Virgil.
"Nothing that deserved that kind of retaliation."
"They obviously saw it differently."
"They always do. That's why I'm here. The Democracy stops at the borders to the Inner and Outer Frontiers."
Virgil stared at him as one would stare at a child. It was a look that seemed to say: If you're that dumb, is it even worth the effort to set you straight? "The law may stop," he said at last. "But the Democracy doesn't."
"What are you talking about?"
"They come out in force and take what they need," said Virgil, "whether it's fissionable material, or food for newly colonized worlds, or conscripts for the military. Any Man or planet that objects gets the same treatment that any alien or alien planet would get."
"I didn't know," admitted Dante. "None of us do."
Virgil shrugged. "Maybe I'm being a little hard on them. Sometimes they pay for what they take, though it's never what it's worth. And if they come to a mining world with, say, thirty miners working it, and grab a couple of hundred pounds of plutonium, well, they'll probably use it to fight off some alien army that would otherwise subjugate a planet with ten million Men on it." Virgil paused. "But we don't know that. We just know they come and they take and they leave and no one can stand up to them. So maybe it's comforting to think they have some noble purpose for plundering the Frontier whenever they want."
"Are they on New Tangier IV?"
"The Democracy?" Virgil shook his head. "You might go years without running into them. Or you might run into them three times in a month. It depends on where you are and what they want at the moment."
"Okay, forewarned is forearmed. But in the meantime, I still need material for my poems, so I still plan to travel the Frontier."
"I was hoping you'd say that."
"Why?"
"Because we're going to make a deal," said Virgil. "You'll need a guide, and I've worn out my welcome in the New Tangier system."
"How?" asked Dante.
"How," replied Virgil, holding up his right hand in a sign of greeting.
"I beg your pardon?"
"An old Injun joke. Forget it."
"How did you wear out your welcome?"
"How can I put this delicately?" said Virgil. "I indulge in certain, shall we say, unmentionable acts with members of . . ."
"The opposite sex?" Dante offered.
"The opposite species," Virgil corrected him.
"Is that against the law?"
"We don't have too many laws on the Frontier," answered Virgil. "It's against at least 400 laws back in the Democracy."
"What species do you perform these unmentionable acts with?" asked Dante.
"Why should I limit myself to one species?"
"So what's you're saying is . . ."
"What I'm saying is that I've worn out my welcome," answered Virgil. "We'll talk about it more after you've adjusted to the Frontier."
"Okay—but I'll probably spend all my spare time wondering who you did what with."
"It'll give you something to do while we're traveling between planets."
Dante finished his drink and slapped some bills on the table. "I'll have another one of these."
"Credits," noted Virgil. "They'll take them here, but most Frontier worlds don't have much use for Democracy currency."
"Speaking of Frontier worlds, where are we going next?"
"As I remember my Inferno, I guide you through the nine circles of hell." Virgil paused. "Of course, you were in hell when you lived in the Democracy. You just didn't know it."
"I knew it. That's why I came out here."
"Oh, you're still in hell. It's just a less structured, less orderly one."
At that moment a tall, burly man appeared in the doorway. He was covered with reddish dust, which he brushed from his heavy coat.
"I'm looking for the poet," he announced.
"You mean the Rhymer," Dante corrected him.
The tall man glared at Dante. "I'm Hamlet MacBeth," he said furiously. "Does that mean anything to you?"
"I know who you are."
"Have we ever met before?"
"No," answered Dante.
"Then why are you spreading lies about me?"
"What I wrote was the truth and you know it," said Dante.
"Hi, Hamlet," interjected Virgil. "Come join us."
Hamlet stared at Dante. "You're with him?" he demanded, jerking a thumb in Virgil's direction.
"That's right," answered Dante.
"You don't choose your friends any more carefully than you choose your subject," said MacBeth. He stepped into the tavern, and two more men entered with him. "How many worlds have you been kicked off of, Injun?"
"I stopped counting when I ran out of fingers and toes," replied Virgil easily.
"I hear tell you turned a couple of your mutant ladyfriends into corpses," added one of the other men, staring at Virgil through narrowed eyes.
"That's a lie," replied Virgil. "They were corpses before I met them."
"Did you hear that?" roared the man. "Did you hear what he just said?"
"Excuse me for a moment," Virgil said softly to Dante. "I'll be back as soon as I clear up this little misunderstanding." He got up and began walking toward the three men. "I know you don't mean what you say, but I wish you wouldn't embarrass me in front of my new friend."
"Your new friend ain't gonna be around that long, Injun, " said MacBeth. "We got nothing against you, at least not today. If you're smart you'll keep out of our way."
"Come on over to the bar," said Virgil. "I'll buy you a round of drinks, and then maybe we can all be friends."
"Keep your distance, scumbag!"
"You really shouldn't call people names like that," remarked Virgil, still approaching them. "Even scumbags have feelings."
"What are you going to do about it?" demanded MacBeth pugnaciously, his right hand resting on the butt of his holstered burner.
"This," said Virgil softly.
His hands moved so fast that Dante couldn't follow them, but suddenly he had a knife in each, and an instant later all three men lay writhing on the floor, gagging and clutching their necks as blood spurted forth. None of them had had a chance to draw a weapon.
Virgil calmly walked back to the table, paying no attention to any of the other patrons, who stared at him but made no move to stop him. By the time he rejoined Dante, all three men had stopped thrashing and were still, each lying in an increasing pool of his own blood.