“Possibly,” said Cain, looking down the various aisles. “Do you carry any books or tapes here?”

“Safe Harbor doesn’t have a newstape,” he said. “Nothing very exciting ever happens here,” he added with an apologetic smile. “But we do have a selection of tapes and magazines from nearby worlds. Is there anything in particular you’re looking for?”

“Yes,” said Cain. “Have you got material about Santiago?”

“Nothing worth looking at,” said the shopkeeper. “Just the usual stupid speculations written by incompetents who have nothing better to do with their time.” He sighed. “You’d think somebody would tell the truth about him after all these years.”

“What is the truth?” asked Cain.

“He’s a great man, a great man, and they keep treating him like some kind of common criminal.”

“I don’t mean to seem rude,” said Cain carefully, “but none of the stories I’ve heard about him make him sound like anything but an outlaw.”

“You’ve been listening to the wrong people.”

“Are you one of the right ones?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“What can you tell me about Santiago?”

“Oh, nothing very much,” replied the shopkeeper.

“Just that he’s a great man,” said Cain.

“That’s right, sir,” said the shopkeeper briskly. “You’ll find our magazines and tapes in the middle of aisle three, just past the computer supplies.”

“Thank you,” said Cain. He wandered over to the tape section, browsed for a couple of minutes, and walked out.

His next stop was the barber shop, where he got a shave while listening to the barber tell him with a straight face that he had never heard of anyone named Santiago.

Cain spent the rest of the morning wandering through the small village, striking up conversations wherever he could. The people were divided almost equally: half of them thought Santiago was a saint, and the other half seemed not to recognize his name.

Finally he returned to Father William’s hotel. The preacher was still rocking lazily in the sunlight, sipping a tall iced drink through a straw.

“Hello, Sebastian,” he said. “Have you decided to join me?”

“For a couple of minutes, anyway,” said Cain, pulling up a chair.

“A couple of minutes is all I’ve got,” replied Father William. “It’s getting on toward lunchtime.” He paused. “Did you have a successful morning?”

“An interesting one, anyway,” responded Cain.

“I notice that you’re not overburdened by supplies,” remarked the preacher with a lazy smile.

“I decided to carry them back after the heat of the day,” lied Cain.

“Good idea,” said Father William. “Will you be leaving then?”

Cain shrugged. “Perhaps.”

“Where will you be going next, Sebastian?”

“I haven’t decided yet. How about you?”