“And nobody ever will,” replied the Swagman. “Just the same, I was prepared to stay with him all the way to Santiago’s doorstep.” He paused. “But he isn’t the one.”

“The one?”

“The one who can kill Santiago.”

“I know,” said Yorick with a euphoric smile. “That’s why I told him the truth.”

“What truth?” demanded the Swagman.

“About Safe Harbor. That’s his next step.”

“I just told you: Billy Three-Eyes is dead. Now,” said the Swagman, pulling out a roll of bills and holding them enticingly before Yorick’s nose, “where’s my next step?”

“Who knows?” replied Yorick pleasantly. “Where are you going?”

“Where do you think I should go to find Santiago?”

“To find him?” repeated Yorick. “Go with the Songbird.”

“Let me amend that,” said the Swagman. “Where should I go to kill him?”

“He’s my best customer,” said Yorick. He paused thoughtfully. “He’s my only customer. I don’t want him killed.”

“I’ll buy you enough alphanella seeds so that you never need him again.”

“I won’t live long enough to spend the money the Songbird gave me,” said Yorick placidly. “Why do I need more?”

The Swagman stared at him for a moment, then shrugged. He began walking around the room, examining the artificial gems, and finally stopped in front of the canvas.

“Are you ever going to finish this?” he asked.

“Probably not.”

“I’ll buy it from you if you do.”

“It’s already sold to your friend Black Orpheus.”

The Swagman studied the portrait with renewed interest. “Eurydice?”

“I think that’s what he called her. He left a couple of holographs with me, but I lost them a long time ago.”

“You could have been one hell of an artist.”

“I’m happier this way,” said Yorick.

“What a stupid thing to say.”

“My painting brings pleasure to others. My weakness brings pleasure to me.”

“You’re a fool,” said the Swagman.

Yorick smiled. “But I’m a loyal fool. Have you got anything else to say to me, Swagman?”

“Not a thing.”

“Good.” He ground the seed to pulp between his molars. “I’ve got about a minute before it hits. Do you mind letting yourself out?”

The Swagman picked up a number of discarded sketches from the floor and carefully tucked them inside his tunic.

“Mementos,” he said with a smile, walking to the door.

“Now that you’ve deserted your partner, where will you go next?” asked Yorick.

“I am not without prospects,” replied the Swagman confidently.

“People like you never are,” said Yorick, his vision starting to blur.

“People like me get what they want,” said the Swagman, taking a tentative step into the room and watching for a reaction. “People like Cain don’t even know what they want.”