“If it ends, it ends,” said Santiago. “I’ve led a satisfying life. I’ve seen hundreds of worlds, I’ve had the pleasure of owning this farm—and, in some small way, I’ve made a difference.” He shrugged and forced a smile to his lips. “And before you go writing my epitaph, I wish at least one of you would consider the possibility that I might not die.”

“I beg you not to do this,” said Jacinto earnestly.

“I appreciate your concern,” replied Santiago, “but my decision has been made.”

“Then let me go in your place,” said Cain suddenly. “The Angel has never seen either of us. At least I’ll have a chance against him.”

“I thought we decided that you didn’t want to become Sydney Carton,” noted Santiago.

“I’ve changed my mind.”

“Well, I haven’t changed mine,” said Santiago. “I appreciate your offer, Sebastian, but I have more important things in mind for you.”

“What could be more important than saving your life?” demanded Cain.

“There’s still work to be done, whether I’m here or not,” said Santiago gently. “And now, if no one minds, I think I’d like to have dinner.”

Cain and Jacinto spent the entire meal trying to argue Santiago out of his position, but he remained adamant. When he had finished eating he went out to the dell by himself and returned at about midnight, seemingly content. He invited Silent Annie to spend the night in one of the guest rooms, bade the three of them good night, and went off to bed.

Cain retired to his room, pulled two pistols out of his luggage, and spent the next hour oiling and cleaning them. He set his alarm for twenty minutes before sunrise and was totally dressed and checking his ammunition when he heard a knock at the door.

“Open,” he commanded in a low voice, and Santiago and Silent Annie entered the room.

“I was afraid of this,” said Santiago, staring at the pistols that Cain had laid out on the dresser. “Sebastian, what are you doing?”

“I’m going into town,” replied Cain, making no attempt to hide his weapons.

“I’ve told you not to.”

“I know what you told me,” said Cain. “I’m going anyway.”

“Annie?” said Santiago, stepping aside, and suddenly Cain was looking down the barrel of a sonic pistol.

“What the hell is this?” demanded Cain.

“I appreciate what you want to do, Sebastian,” said Santiago, “but I can’t allow it.” He turned to Silent Annie. “I’m leaving in ten minutes. You’ll keep him here?”

She nodded.

“Good-bye, Sebastian,” said Santiago.

He walked down the hall, and the door slid shut.

“You know he’s going off to get killed, don’t you?” said Cain bitterly.

She stared unblinking at him. “Santiago can’t be killed.”