"I'll be happy to." She stared at him. "That's some set of arms you have!"
He flexed his right arm. "This one's real." He tapped his left arm with the fingers of his right hand; it made a drumming sound. "This one's the fake. I lost the original arm in the war against the Sett."
"'Fake' is a feeble word for it," enthused Matilda. "It's the most impressive weapon I've seen! What can it do?"
"I don't like to talk about it," he said uncomfortably. "Most people think I'm some kind of freak."
"Not me," Matilda assured him. "And I do have a reason for asking."
He shrugged. "All right, ma'am," he said. "Depending on how I manipulate my wrist and fingers, it can be a burner, a pulse gun, a screecher, or—if I'm carrying the proper munitions—even a laser cannon."
"Amazing!" she said. "And you act as if the heat and gravity don't even affect you!"
"Oh, I feel 'em, ma'am," he said with a smile. "I just don't like to let them know it."
She looked at the bodies littering the street. "I'm surprised the law hasn't shown up yet."
"They don't have any reason to," said the Bandit. "Someone'll be along presently to do a body count and dispose of them."
"A body count?"
He nodded. "It's really quite oppressive out here, ma'am," he said. "You may not be aware of it, but I can see that you're gasping for air and having trouble swallowing. Let's go back into the restaurant and get you something cold to drink."
"Yes," said Matilda, suddenly dizzy. "I think that would be a good idea."
She turned to open the door and found herself falling. The Bandit caught her in his arms, set her back on her feet, and escorted her into the restaurant.
"Ah, that's much better!" she breathed as they sat at a table. Not only was the temperature comfortable, but she could tell that the oxygen content of the air had been increased.
"Your eyes look like they're focusing again," he noted.
"Yes, they are." A robot waiter brought two glasses of water to the table. She took one, soaked her napkin in it, dabbed her face and neck, and then took a sip of what was left. "Aren't you having any?"
"I'll get around to it," the Bandit assured her. "Right now I'm more concerned with you."
"I'll be fine."
"I don't know how long you plan to stay on Heliopolis II, ma'am," he said, "but if I were you I'd be very careful about going outside until I'd adjusted to the air and the heat."
"And the gravity," she added. "Am I that obvious a newcomer?"
He smiled. "I'd remember anyone as pretty as you."
She returned his smile, then took another sip of water. She could almost feel the precious liquid spread through her body. Finally, when she felt certain that she wasn't going to black out again, she looked across the table at the Bandit.
"You mentioned something about a body count?" she said.
He jerked a thumb out the window, where a pair of robots were picking up each Unicorn corpse and placing it carefully on a gravity sled. "They'll report it to the authorities."
"And then what?"
"And then I'll get paid."
"They pay you to kill the native inhabitants of Heliopolis II?" she asked, far more curious than shocked or outraged.
"A diamond for every Unicorn," said the Bandit.
She let out a low whistle. "You must have quite a pile of diamonds."
"A few."
"Why don't you just turn your laser cannon on their cities, or wherever it is that they live?"
"I don't believe in genocide," he answered. "I'll protect the men who work the mines, and I'll keep the streets safe, but I'm not going to wipe out an entire race, not even for diamonds."
All good answers so far. You have the greatest arsenal on the Frontier, you don't believe in genocide, you even protect damsels in distress. Maybe, just maybe, you could be Him.
"Why are you called the One-Armed Bandit?" she asked. "I understand the One-Armed, but why the Bandit?"
"It was a term for a type of gambling machine. A few people still use it."
"So are you a gambler?"
"No. I work too hard for my money to lose it at a gaming table."
"Then are you a bandit?"
"I won't lie, ma'am. I've been a bandit in the past. I may be one again in the future. But I've never robbed anyone who came by their money honestly. At least, I've tried not to." Better and better. You're willing to be an outlaw under the right circumstances.
"And," he continued, "sometimes it's just practical. I'd have no moral qualms about robbing the diamond mines here, given all the abuses the Democracy has committed."
"Then why don't you?" she interrupted.
He smiled guiltily. "I wouldn't know how to find a diamond in a mine, or how to extract one. And why should I want the Democracy after me when it's so easy to let them pay me for killing Unicorns?"
"Your logic is unassailable," agreed Matilda. She paused. "How long is your contract for?"
"Contract?"
"For, how shall I phrase it, policing the planet?"
"I can leave whenever I want," he answered. "As a matter of fact, I was thinking of leaving in the next week or two. A month in this hellhole is plenty." Suddenly he smiled at her. "But I'm willing to stay here as long as you need protection, ma'am—and on Heliopolis II, that translates to as long as you're on the planet."
"I appreciate that, Bandit," she said. "Where were you planning to go next?"
"I don't know. Wherever they might need someone like me."
"I might be able to help you out with that," said Matilda.
"Oh?"
"I have to speak to a friend first."
"Is he here?"
"No—but he can get here in a day or two."
"Well, I'll look forward to meeting him," said the Bandit. He pushed his chair back and got to his feet. "And now, if you'll excuse me, ma'am, I think it's time for me to go collect my commission." He paused awkwardly. "Perhaps you'd like to have dinner tonight?"
"I'd enjoy that very much," said Matilda. "I'm staying at the Tamerlaine."
"Fine. I'll call for you about an hour after dark. It'll still be oppressive, but it'll be a little more tolerable."
"I'll see you then," said Matilda.
He left the restaurant, and she ordered a very tall very cold drink, then another. Finally ready to face the planet again, she paid her tab and passed through the airlock that seemed omnipresent on all the human buildings on Heliopolis II, walked back to the Tamerlaine, and went right to the bar for another cold drink the moment she arrived.
Finally she went up to her room, filled the tub with cool water, got out of her sweaty clothes, and carried the subspace radio into the bathroom. She set it down on a stool right next to the tub, then climbed in and luxuriated as the water closed in around her body.
After a few minutes, feeling somewhat human again, she put through a call to Dante Alighieri. It took about ten minutes for him to answer, and there was static whenever he spoke, but she was able to converse with him.
"How are you doing?" she asked.
"All right, I guess. I've incorporated eight more men and women into the poem. How's Heliopolis?"