"What if I told you he wasn't what you think?"
"I'd ask what special insight you had into him."
"I'm his granddaughter."
He stared at her, then shook his head. "The numbers are wrong."
"All right," she said with a shrug. "His great-great- granddaughter."
"And you want me to go out and pillage and steal and kill for you?"
"No, I want you to do it for us."
"You and me?"
"The entire Inner Frontier."
"You keep saying that, but it doesn't make any sense."
"Have you got any coffee?" she asked. "Because what I have to tell you is going to take awhile."
He ordered the kitchenette to prepare it, then handed her a cup and finally sat down on a chair that hovered a few inches above the ground, and changed its shape to accommodate his long, lean body.
"All right," he said. "I'm listening."
She proceeded to tell him about Santiago—everything she knew about him, everything her family had said when no one was around to overhear, everything Dante Alighieri had found hidden in the pages of Black Orpheus' poem. It took her close to two hours. When she was done she stared at him, waiting for a reaction.
"I believe you," he said at last.
"Good. That means I haven't wasted either of our time."
"Let me finish," he said. "I believe what you said. I believe Santiago was a secret revolutionary. I'm even willing to believe there was more than one Santiago." He paused, considering his words. "I believe that the time is right for another Santiago. But I'm not your man."
"Why not?"
"I'll help you look for him," continued Dimitrios. "I'll work for him and I'l fight for him." He stared unblinking into her eyes. "But I won't become him."
"Think of the difference you could make."
"Someone else can make it. Not me."
"But why?" she insisted.
"Because I'm not willing to do the things Santiago has to do if he's to be Santiago. I won't give orders to kill innocent men and women. I won't be the one who sends out men to kill young soldiers who are only trying to protect the Navy's payrolls or weapons. I understand why it has to be done, but it's contrary to everything I believe in, everything I am. I'll help you as far as I can, I'll protect you while you and the Rhymer are searching for the next Santiago, I'll never betray you—but I won't be Santiago, not now, not ever."
"You're sure?"
He smiled again. "Santiago is capable of lying. I'm not."
"But you will help us?"
"I said I would."
"Have you any suggestions where we should go next?"
"It'll take some thought," answered Dimitrios. "Santiago has to be able to lie, as I said. He has to send men to their deaths. He has to commit enough crimes to convince the Democracy that he's a criminal and not a revolutionary, and he has to be brutal and efficient enough to discourage any criminals on the Frontier from trying to take over his operation." He shook his head and added wryly, "He could be every scumbag I've ever hunted down."
"But he's not," she pointed out. "With him, it's a facade."
"I know. But they're not traits you're likely to find in a minister."
"That's why we decided to start with lawmen or bounty hunters," said Matilda.
"Maybe," said Dimitrios dubiously. "The question is who you trust more: a man who's been an outlaw all his life, or a man who's willing to become an outlaw on five minutes' notice."
"I see your point."
"Tell me about the one they call the Rhymer," he said. "I know he spent some time in your dressing room on Prateep. What's his interest in all this?"
"He's the one who sought me out in the first place."
"Why?"
She shrugged. "He wants to write poems about Santiago."
Dimitrios considered her answer for a moment, then nodded his head. "I suppose Orpheus needs a Santiago as much as Santiago needs an Orpheus."
"And what do you need?"
"I need men who deserve to die for what they've done. Right now I need one named Hootowl Jacobs. I heard a rumor tonight that he might have gone to Innesfree II. That's where I'll be heading tomorrow."
"If he's the one we're looking for, you won't kill him, right?"
"If he's the one you're looking for, I'll have to reevaluate my pledge to you," said Dimitrios.
"What has he done?"
"You don't want to know."
"Whatever it was, he did it to a woman," she said. "I know that much about you. That's why I was willing to come alone to your room."
"I saw you take that drunk out with a spinning kick," said Dimitrios. "You handle yourself just fine."
She got to her feet. "Tell me where your ship is and I'll meet you there in the morning."
"You're coming along?" he said. "Don't you have any professional engagements?"
"I'll cancel them and pick up work wherever you're going."
"We might to better going in three directions—you, me, and the poet."
"I'm coming with you," she said adamantly.
He shrugged. "Suit yourself."
"So where's your ship?"
"There's only one spaceport. Be there an hour after sunrise."
She got to her feet and walked to the door, then turned back to him. "I can't help thinking it should be you. You're such a goddamned moral man."
"You don't want such a goddamned moral man," he assured her. "You want a man who understands his purpose and will do whatever he has to do to succeed. I'm not that man."
"Well, you might at least look a little sad about it."
"Why?" he said. "Whoever he is, he is—or soon will be—the most important man on the Inner Frontier. We both know he's out there somewhere. What could be more challenging that finding him?"
"Convincing him that he's Santiago?" she suggested.
"When we find him, he'll know," said Dimitrios with certainty. "Hell, he's probably busy being Santiago right now. All we have to do is find him and tell him what his true name is."
"You really believe that, don't you?"
"If he's Santiago, the one thing he's not is a fool. If he's got the abilities we're looking for, he's been honing them, getting ready to meet his destiny. Our job is to point it out to him and convince him we're right."
"Do you really think we will?" asked Matilda.
"As sure as my name is Dimitrios of the Three Burners."
11.
Hootowl Jacobs loves his life.
Hootowl Jacobs takes to wife
A woman here, a woman there—
A bigamist, but one with flair.
Dante wrote that verse about Hootowl Jacobs, but he was still new at the job, and he made a major mistake, one Black Orpheus never made: he relied upon other people's descriptions and recollections. He never met Hootowl Jacobs himself, and that was the real reason the verse was so flawed.