Santiago chuckled. “I’m not a leader,” he said. “I’m a lightning rod. I raid and I loot and I kill, and the Democracy wrings its hands and offers rewards for the King of the Outlaws.” A satisfied smile crossed his face. “If they knew why I was doing this, if they had the slightest inkling what I was financing with the spoils of my conquests, they’d have fifty million men out here, scouring every inch of every world for me.” He paused. “I’m good at hiding, but I’m not that good. I’d much rather be thought of as a successful villain than a successful revolutionary.”

“Are you a successful revolutionary?” asked Cain.

“You were at the medical center,” replied Santiago. “You’ve seen what we’re trying to do.”

“Any team of doctors could do the same thing.”

“True,” admitted Santiago. “But any team of doctors couldn’t pay for the facility, and they certainly couldn’t mine the area where the navy plans to build its base on Hyperion.”

“Silent Annie says it was an accident.”

“Was it also an accident that they killed off a native population of millions of sentient beings?” demanded Santiago. “That scenario has been played over and over again all across the Inner Frontier. I’m trying to convince them that there’s a better way—and failing that. I’ll damned well convince them that there’s a less painful way.”

“Is it working?”

“It depends on your point of view,” answered Santiago. “Hundreds of colonies exist that would have been decimated. Tens of thousands of Men are alive who otherwise wouldn’t have been. A handful of alien races who hated all Men have learned that some of us are a bit less hateful than others.” He smiled. “It’s a matter of proportion. I would say it’s working; the Democracy would probably wonder why we had wasted so many lives and so many years to produce such insignificant results.”

A man in his early thirties, with a streak of white running through his coal-black hair, emerged from the interior of the house just then and approached them.

“Yes?” said Santiago. “What is it?”

The man looked at Cain hesitantly.

“This is Sebastian Cain,” said Santiago. “While he is my guest, I have no secrets from him.” He turned to Cain. “Sebastian, this is Jacinto, one of my most trusted associates.”

Cain nodded a greeting.

“I am pleased to meet you, Mr. Cain,” said Jacinto, inclining his head slightly. He turned back to Santiago. “Winston Kchanga has refused to deliver our merchandise to us.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Santiago, frowning. “Has he offered any reason?”

Jacinto snorted contemptuously.

“I’m afraid Mr. Kchanga has outlived his usefulness to us,” said Santiago.

Jacinto nodded and went back into the house.

“I suppose I should explain.”

“It’s none of my business,” replied Cain.