The gambler walked over to a sensor terminal, as he had done every few hours since leaving Port étrange, and satisfied himself that there was still no sign of pursuit by ManMountain Bates.

“You know,” said Terwilliger, finally pouring himself some coffee and handing a cup over to Cain, “you never did tell me why you became a bounty hunter.”

“I’d been a terrorist for twelve years. The only thing I knew how to do really well was kill people.”

“How about that?” said the gambler with mock regret. “And here I thought it was because you believed in justice.”

Cain patted the weapon at his side. “I learned to use this gun because I believed in truth and honor and freedom and a lot of other fine-sounding things. I spent twelve years fighting for them and then took a good look at the results.” He paused. “Now all I believe in is the gun.”

“Well, I’ve met disillusioned revolutionaries before, but you’re the first one who ever fought on a free-lance basis.”

“Nobody paid me for what I did.”

“What I meant was that you seemed to go from one war to another.”

“When the first man I thought could put things right turned out to have feet of clay, I looked around for another. It took me three revolutions before I finally realized just how much clay God put into the universe.” He smiled ruefully. “I was a slow learner.”

“At least you fought the good fight,” said Terwilliger.

“I fought three stupid fights,” Cain corrected him. “I’m not especially proud of any of them.”

“You must have been a very serious young man.”

“Actually, I used to laugh a lot more than I do now.” He shrugged. “That was when I thought one moral man could make a difference. The only thing I find really funny these days is the fact that so many people still believe it.”

“I had a feeling the first time I saw you that you weren’t just your run-of-the-mill headhunter,” said Terwilliger. “Like I told you, I’ve got this knack for reading faces.”

“Well, if it comes to that, I had a feeling the first time I saw you that you were a lousy cardplayer.”

“I’m the best damned cardplayer you’ll ever meet.”

“I thought I beat you rather handily,” remarked Cain.

“I let you win.”

“Sure you did.”

“You don’t believe me?” said the gambler. “Then watch this.”

He pulled out the cards, shuffled them thoroughly, and dealt out two five-card hands on the tiny chrome table.

“Got anything worth betting?” he asked.

Cain picked up his cards, fanned them out slowly, and found himself holding four kings and a jack.

“It’s possible,” he answered cautiously.

“How about twenty-two hundred credits?”

“Let’s make it one hundred.”

“You’re sure?”

“That’s my limit.”

Terwilliger laid his hand down on the table. It contained four aces and a queen.