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26.

They sold their ship as soon as they reached the Inner Frontier, then took their new ship and their new identities straight to Solio II.

"You know," said Nighthawk, when they were still half an hour out from Solio, "I know why I'm going back. But I sure as hell can't figure out why you're going."

Father Christmas shrugged. "Why not? Solio's got churches, just like every other world."

"It's also got a top-notch security force. We may fool them for a while with all the stuff we picked up on Purplecloud, but eventually they'll dope it out. If not before I kill Hernandez, then after. Either way, anyone who was seen with me is going to be pretty high up on their Wanted list."

"You want me to leave?" asked Father Christmas.

"I didn't say that," replied Nighthawk. "I asked why you hadn't left."

The older man leaned back on his seat, stared at the ceiling for a moment, and exhaled heavily. "I think it's curiosity more than anything."

"To see if you were right about Hernandez hiring the Marquis?" asked Nighthawk, puzzled.

Father Christmas shook his head. "No, I'm pretty sure about that. And if it's not that, then it's something similar. These guys feed on lies and subterfuge the way we fed on Redbison two nights ago."

"Then what are you curious about?"

"You."

"Me?"

"Yeah," said Father Christmas. "I want to see if you're as good as I think you are."

"I assume that's a compliment?"

"All depends. I don't think you can steal the girl and get off the planet, but I'm curious to see how close you come."

"You left out killing Hernandez."

"That, too."

"Getting to him will be the toughest part of the job," said Nighthawk thoughtfully. "Once I've killed him, the rest should fall into place."

"Have you given any thought as to how you're going to get to him?" asked Father Christmas.

Nighthawk lit a small, thin cigar. "Not really. Create some story that'll get me in to see him, I suppose."

"You can't be the only man who's ever wanted to kill him," suggested Father Christmas. "There probably aren't too many stories he hasn't heard—or that his subordinates haven't heard."

"Well, if push comes to shove, I'll shoot my way in and shoot my way out," said Nighthawk with a shrug.

"Just like that?" asked the older man, snapping his fingers together.

"Why not? I took the Marquis, didn't I?"

"What if you run into someone better?"

"Anyone who's better than the Marquis isn't working for peanuts on some security force," answered Nighthawk. "He's set up shop somewhere on the Frontier, and he probably controls a dozen or more worlds."

"Well, at least consider this: there's no silencer for the gun you're carrying. The first shot will draw everyone within five hundred yards."

"There's only going to be one shot," responded Nighthawk. "That's all I ever take."

"One, five, a dozen—it'll make noise."

"Hernandez carries a laser pistol. By the time my gun's made a bang, I'll have his weapon, and it's silent except for a little buzzing. If no one hears a second shot, they'll think the first one was something else."

"You hope."

"Actually, I don't much give a damn. If they worked for Hernandez or so much as touched my Melisande, I want to kill 'em."

"Well, I, for one, would feel a damned sight safer if you had some means of approaching him other than to tell one ridiculous story and then shoot your way in if the story doesn't work," said Father Christmas.

"Just say the word and I'll put down on a neighboring world and let you get off."

"I don't want to get off, son," said the older man. "I just want you to take it a little slower and more carefully so that you live through this episode."

Nighthawk looked at Solio II, a green and blue world spinning in the viewscreen. "She's there right now," he said. "The slower I go, the longer it'll be before we're together again."

"Son," said Father Christmas, "I hate to keep bringing this up, but she doesn't want to be together with you."

Nighthawk's expression hardened. "She will," he said adamantly.

 

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