“God has little use for liars, Sebastian,” said Father William. He turned to Cain. “And I have even less.”

“I came here looking for Billy Three-Eyes.”

“Was there paper on him?”

“Probably,” answered Cain.

“Probably?” repeated Father William, wolfing down still more food and following it up with a large glass of beer.

“I don’t know. I wasn’t here to kill him; I was after some information.”

“About Santiago?”

“Why should you think so?” asked Cain.

“Because you were talking about him when I came in.”

“I thought everybody out here talks about Santiago.”

“I also know of your partnership with Virtue MacKenzie,” Father William pointed out. He finished the last of the meat he had sliced, considered giving himself a second helping of potatoes au gratin, decided against it, and attacked his roast with renewed vigor. “What did you think you could learn from Billy Three-Eyes?”

“Where to find him.”

“So you plan to be the man who kills Santiago?” asked Father William between mouthfuls.

“I plan to try,” answered Cain. He paused. “I have a feeling that I’m getting pretty close to him.”

“What makes you think so?”

“Because the worst crime anyone is likely to commit on Safe Harbor is robbing a store—but three bounty hunters have landed here in the past four months: you, me and Peacemaker MacDougal. That must mean something.”

Father William frowned. “MacDougal? Is he here?”

“Not anymore. He killed Billy Three-Eyes.”

“Well, there you have it,” said the preacher decisively.

“There I have what?”

“Coincidence. You and MacDougal were both after Billy Three-Eyes, and I’m here because my ship had a problem.”

“Why was Billy Three-Eyes here?” asked Cain.

Father William shrugged. “Who knows?”

“Somebody must,” said Cain. “He was a killer. What was he doing on a world like Safe Harbor?”

“Hiding out, in all likelihood.” Father William took a final mouthful of meat. “Moonripple!” he called out.

“That’s her name?”

The preacher nodded. “Lovely, isn’t it? It evokes images of Stardust and ethereal beauty.”

“I’ve heard it somewhere before,” said Cain, frowning.

“Yes, sir.” said Moonripple, emerging from the kitchen.

“I think it’s time for the cake, my child,” announced Father William.

Moonripple stared at his plate and frowned. “I keep telling you, sir, that if you insist on finishing your meal this fast, you’ll make yourself sick.”

“Who says I’m through?” Father William laughed. “I’ve still got most of the potatoes and half a pitcher of beer. But the cake would make a pleasant change of pace.”

“Wouldn’t you rather rest a bit and give yourself time to digest what you’ve eaten?” asked Moonripple.

“It’ll be digested by the time you return with the cake.” He paused. “You layered it with that fudge frosting we talked about yesterday, didn’t you?”

“Yes, sir.”

He tossed a platinum coin to her. “That’s my girl!”