As Orpheus left for his next port of call, he was convinced that he would regularly encounter her every couple of years—but they never met again, for while he continued his aimless journey, immortalizing men and events, Moonripple finally came, after many false starts and digressions, to the colony world of Safe Harbor, which was where Cain first encountered her.

He wandered into the Barleycorn, the larger of the two local taverns, shortly after Schussler landed in late afternoon. It was totally empty. He checked the sign on the door, which proclaimed “We Never Close,” shrugged, and sat down at a table.

“I’ll be with you in just a moment, sir,” said Moonripple, coming out of the kitchen with a huge pitcher of beer, which she carried over to a large table across the room.

She smiled at him, disappeared again, and returned half a minute later carrying an enormous roast, which she set down next to the pitcher.

“That looks like real meat,” remarked Cain.

“It is,” she said proudly. “We grow our own beef on Safe Harbor.” She approached Cain’s table. “May I help you, sir?”

“It’s a possibility,” he replied. “I’m looking for someone.”

“Who?”

“Billy Three-Eyes. Ever hear of him?”

She nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Do you happen to know where he is?”

“He’s dead, sir.”

Cain frowned. “You’re sure?”

She nodded again.

“When and where?”

“He was killed right out there,” she said, indicating the street, “by a man called MacDougal.”

“Peacemaker MacDougal?” asked Cain.

“Yes, sir. That was his name.”

“Shit!” muttered Cain. He looked up at the girl. “Did he have any friends here?”

“Mr. MacDougal?”

“Billy Three-Eyes.”

“Oh, yes,” she said. “Everybody liked Billy.”

“We must not be talking about the same man.”

“I’m sure we are, sir,” said Moonripple. “After all, how many men could have been called Billy Three-Eyes?”

“He had a big scar on his forehead?”

“Right above the bridge of his nose. Yes, sir.”

“And everybody liked him?” continued Cain, surprised.

“Yes, sir,” replied Moonripple. “He was always telling funny stories. I was very sorry when he died.”

“Who would you say was his closest friend on Safe Harbor?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know, sir. I only saw him when he was in here.”

“Did he usually come alone?”

“Yes, sir. But once he got here, he talked to everybody.”

“I see,” said Cain. He sighed. “Well, I might as well stick around and talk to some of the people he talked to. Bring me a beer, will you?”

“Yes, sir,” said Moonripple. She walked to the bar, held a glass under a tap, and returned to him.

“Thanks,” said Cain.

“I should tell you, sir, that hardly anybody will show up for another three or four hours.”

“How about the group that’s coming by for dinner?” asked Cain, pointing toward the roast.

She smiled. “Oh, that’s not a group. It’s just for one man.”