“Why do you still have it?” asked Cain. “It’s the only physical feature of yours that seems to be known beyond Safe Harbor. Why didn’t you get rid of it when you underwent your cosmetic surgery?”

Santiago stared at his hand for another moment, then laughed. “I’ll be damned if I know,” he replied. “It’s been a part of me for so long that I never even mentioned it to the surgeon.”

“I hope you wear gloves when you’re traveling incognito.” said Cain.

“I always do. I was born in the Democracy; my fingerprints are on file there somewhere. I wear contact lenses that distort my retina pattern for the same reason.” He rose to his feet. “Shall we eat now?”

They went off to the dining room and spent the rest of the evening talking about Santiago’s immediate and long-range plans for the future. Cain went to bed with another book—Tanblixt’s poetry, which he found totally incomprehensible—and continued his discussion with Santiago and Jacinto the next day, his enthusiasm for their enterprise growing by the hour.

Then, just before sunset, Virtue MacKenzie showed up on Santiago’s doorstep, and all of the revolutionary’s plans for the future were forcibly put on hold.

26.

He burns brighter than a nova;

He stands taller than a tree;

He shouts louder than the thunder;

He flows deeper than the sea.

“Actually,” Santiago was saying as he leaned back in his easy chair and sipped his brandy, “I’m told that he was the patron saint of the oppressed Spanish nobility. They used to invoke his spirit before doing battle to drive the Moors out of their country.”

“Santiago means Saint James in Spanish, a language they used to speak on old Earth,” added Jacinto, who was sitting on a large, comfortable couch with Cain.

“Not quite as biblical as your own name, Sebastian,” remarked Santiago.

“It’s my middle name that bothers me,” said Cain. “I should never have let Orpheus know what it was. Then I wouldn’t have to put up with this Songbird nonsense.” He sighed. “Still, I suppose we can’t choose our names.”

“Everyone out here does just that,” noted Santiago.

“Those are names for the Frontier,” replied Cain. “They’re not official.”

“If you stay on the Frontier, they’re official enough.”

Suddenly the security system warned them that a vehicle was approaching. It was identified as Silent Annie’s, and a moment later the door slid back to reveal her slim figure.

“Annie—what a pleasant surprise!” said Santiago, getting to his feet. “To what do we owe the pleasure of this visit?”

“We have a bit of a problem on our hands,” replied Silent Annie, remaining in the doorway.

“Oh?”

Silent Annie nodded her head. “She’s sitting in my vehicle.”

“Who is it?” asked Santiago.

“Virtue MacKenzie.”