“There’s no drunk like an old one,” said the Swagman. He signaled to Moonripple, who had just brought Father William a pan of hot biscuits. “A refill, if you please.”

“Yes, sir.” She looked at Cain. “Will there be anything for you, sir?”

“Maybe a change in company.”

“I beg your pardon?”

He sighed. “I’ll have a beer.”

“Right away, sir.”

“I can’t imagine what Orpheus saw in her.” commented the Swagman as he watched Moonripple walk to the bar.

“No, I don’t suppose you can,” said Cain.

The Swagman smiled. “I have a feeling that I’ve just been insulted.”

Cain stared at him and made no reply.

“By the way,” continued the Swagman, “I didn’t see Schussler on my way into town.”

“He’s dead.”

“That was stupid, Sebastian. You receive an absolutely free spaceship with an enormous bank of interesting information, and you destroy it? How wasteful.”

“I gave him my word.”

“I sincerely doubt that a promise given to a machine is legally binding.”

“All the more reason for keeping it,” said Cain.

“You’re sounding more like him every day,” said the Swagman, amused.

“Like Schussler?” asked Cain, puzzled.

“No. Like him.”

Moonripple arrived with their drinks.

“I want to thank you once again for saving my life, sir,” she said to Cain.

“I was happy to do it,” he replied.

“I hope Silent Annie was able to help you.”

He nodded.

She smiled. “I’m glad. That means I’ve done something good for you, too.”

“Yes, you have.”

She smiled again and went back into the kitchen to work on Father William’s dessert.

“That’s a very touching mutual admiration society you two have going,” commented the Swagman.

“If you say so.”

“If I save her life, will she take me to see Santiago, too?”

“I very much doubt it.”

“What commitment have you made to him?”

“None, as yet.”

“But you will?” he persisted.

“Perhaps.”

The Swagman grimaced and shook his head sadly. “Stupid. Just plain stupid.”

“Then I suggest you don’t join him,” said Cain dryly.

“The man is sitting on the biggest collection of artwork on the Frontier!” said the Swagman in exasperation. “And nobody seems to care about it except me!”

“He’s also sitting on the biggest collection of bluefever vaccine,” answered Cain calmly.

“Who the hell cares about vaccine?” demanded the Swagman. “We’re talking about irreplaceable objects of art!”

“Talk about them a little more softly,” said Father William from across the room. “You’re spoiling my digestion.”

“You’re a bigger fool than he is,” said the Swagman, lowering his voice and nodding his head toward Father William. “At least he thinks he’s serving the Lord.”

“Maybe he is,” said Cain.

“You’re in danger of becoming a bore, Sebastian,” said the Swagman distastefully. “A newfound sense of purpose is one thing; a newfound religious conviction is another.”