by Mike Resnick
“For the purpose of this proposition, it most definitely is,” said Kargennian, ignoring Flint’s undisguised animosity. “They have a culture that worships weaponry fully as much as yours does."
“I don’t know that we actually worship it."
“Perhaps I used the wrong word,” replied Kargennian. “But the fact remains that their history and cultures are as fully committed to firearms as your own. To this day, most of them carry hand weapons, as barbaric as the concept may seem."
“How much did they offer?” asked Flint.
“I beg your pardon?"
“That’s the deal, isn’t it?” he said. “Their champion against the Dancer?"
“I knew you would understand them!” said Kargennian. He paused for effect, then continued. “I’ve worked out the preliminary details with them. Each side will put up ten million credits, for a duel to the death!"
“But that’s dreadful!” exclaimed Mr. Ahasuerus.
“That’s all the money they could raise, and all we can afford to lose if worst comes to worst,” apologized Kargennian.
“That is not what I am referring to,” continued the blue man. “I am reluctantly willing to let Billybuck disarm his opponents in the specialty tent, but a duel to the death is out of the question.” He paused, trying to control his emotions. “This is not what sentient beings do to one another!"
“We should have nothing to worry about,” said Kargennian confidently. “I’ve seen Billybuck Dancer in action a number of times, and I can’t imagine anyone ever defeating him."
“That is not the point!” protested Mr. Ahasuerus. “I will not stand idly by and be a party to murder!"
“I thought you would be happy with the proposition,” said Kargennian, obviously bewildered.
“One of us is,” said Flint. “Why don’t you go on down to the mess hall for a while and let Mr. Ahasuerus and me discuss this in private?"
“There is nothing to discuss,” said the blue man firmly.
“Fine,” said Flint. “Then we’ll talk about the weather.” He turned to Kargennian. “Go on. We’ll call you when we need you."
“But this is a chance to make ten million credits in a single evening, not to mention subsidiary rights!” said Kargennian to the blue man. “Think of what you’re refusing!"
“Kargennian, you’re about as subtle as an elephant in heat,” said Flint. “Will you please get the hell out of here and let me talk to my partner alone?"
“This was my idea!” protested Kargennian. “I really should remain and explain all of its implications."
“There is only one implication that I am concerned with,” said Mr. Ahasuerus.
“Kargennian!” said Flint ominously.
The rotund little alien looked into Flint’s eyes, sighed, shrugged, and walked out the door, which slid shut behind him.
“Well, Mr. Flint?” said Mr. Ahasuerus, staring coldly across the office at him.
“Well, Mr. Ahasuerus?"
“I cannot condone premeditated murder,” said the blue man firmly. “What happened on Tilarba was tragic, but it was an accident. This is a totally different matter."
“This is a unique situation,” said Flint, picking up an alien artifact that his partner had set aside for use as an ashtry and studying it absently.
“We are doing very well as it is. We do not need the money."
“You’re going to find this hard to believe, but I don’t give a damn about the money,” answered Flint.
“‘Hard’ is an understatement,” said Mr. Ahasuerus. “I find it impossible to believe."
Flint smiled wryly. “I’ve already got more money than I ever dreamed of, and I haven’t got a damned thing to spend it on. What do I need more for?"
“As you yourself have pointed out many times, you view it as a means of measuring success,” retorted the blue man harshly. “I, on the other hand, view dead bodies as a means of measuring not just failure but immorality."
“Why not look at it from the Dancer’s point of view?” suggested Flint.
“Because Billybuck Dancer is not a rational man."
“He’s not a rational blue skeleton,” said Flint. “There’s a difference."
“Come now, Mr. Flint. You yourself have remarked countless times that you consider him to be crazy."
“Of course he’s crazy,” acknowledged Flint. “So what? This is a whole different ball game from what’s been going on lately. He’ll be fighting to win, and the competition will be hot enough so that he won’t have to do anything stupid to give his opponent what he considers a fair chance."
Mr. Ahasuerus shook his head. “No matter how you try to justify it, the end result is that someone is going to die."
“People have been dying for eons."
“That is not an answer,” said the blue man.
“It’s the best answer you’re going to get. This is good for the Dancer, it’s good for the Darbeenans, and it’s good for business."
“Murder is never good,” replied Mr. Ahasuerus, the muscles in his face twitching as he tried to control his emotions.
“I agree,” said Flint. “But murder implies an unwilling victim. Do you think you’ll have to twist the Dancer’s arm to get him to accept the fight?"
Mr. Ahasuerus glared at him but made no reply.
“Do you think there aren’t half a million Darbeenans hoping and praying right this minute that they’ll be the one who is chosen to fight for their side?"
“And what if Billybuck dies?"
“He won’t,” said Flint confidently.
“But if he does?"
Flint shrugged. “Then he’ll die rich and happy. There are worse things."
The blue man shook his head gravely. “There is nothing worse than a meaningless death."
Flint smiled a bittersweet smile. “I envy you for thinking so.” He picked up his coffee cup, noticed that it was empty, and walked across the room to pour himself some more. “Why don’t we call the Dancer up here and ask his opinion?"
“I already know what his opinion will be,” replied Mr. Ahasuerus.
“You pride yourself on being a moral man,” said Flint. “Isn’t it immoral not to let him know the opportunity he’s been presented with?"
“It would only frustrate him,” said Mr. Ahasuerus, not without a note of compassion. “I will not allow him to accept the proposition."
“Do my ears deceive me,” said Flint with a smile, “or do I detect a note of totalitarianism in your voice?"
“He is not capable of making this decision rationally,” replied the blue man.
“Well, if push comes to shove, neither are you."
“I resent that remark, Mr. Flint,” said Mr. Ahasuerus, stirring his coffee so vigorously that a goodly amount of it spilled out onto his desk.
“Resent away,” said Flint. “The fact of the matter is that you’re as singlemindedly committed to life as he is to death. What gives you the right to decide his fate based on your prejudices?"
The blue man shook his head in amazement. “I often wonder why your bed is never empty. Then I am subjected to your powers of persuasion, and I know.” He took a deep breath and released it slowly. “However, this is not a debating society. Killing is wrong, and nothing you can say will make it right."
“All I say is that we should let the Dancer know what’s going on."
“You insist?” asked Mr. Ahasuerus.
“I do."
“And if we do not tell him together, I presume you will tell him alone?"
“Yes."
The blue man sighed. “Then I shall summon him here. But I hope you know that the only change this will precipitate will be to make a very confused young man even more unhappy than he already is."
“Relax,” said Flint, walking over to the communication console. “I’ll do it for you."
He activated the intercom, tried without success to get a response from the Dancer’s room, and then called the mess hall. Tojo answered, informed him that
the Dancer was not there, and volunteered to hunt him up.
“I would imagine that Billybuck is in his room and simply did not bother to activate his intercom,” declared the blue man.
“Makes sense,” agreed Flint. “That means he should be here in a couple of minutes.” He paused thoughtfully, then looked at his partner. “If you don’t believe that I don’t care about the money, you’re never going to buy this next statement either—but I really don’t like arguing with you, Mr. Ahasuerus. Let’s call a truce and just keep quiet until the Dancer arrives."
They sat at opposite sides of the room, sipping their coffee, for the better part of five minutes. Then there was a knock at the door, and Mr. Ahasuerus opened it to reveal Tojo and the Dancer standing in the hall.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Flint asked the hunchback.
“You said to bring the Dancer up here as soon as I found him,” replied Tojo.
“I said to send him up here,” said Flint.
“I’m sorry,” apologized the hunchback, turning to leave. “I must have misunderstood you."
“What the hell,” said Flint. “As long as you’re here, you might as well stick around. This isn’t going to take all that long."
“But if I’m intruding—"
“Shut up and sit down,” said Flint. “You’ve been with this carnival since before I bought it. You’ve got a right to put in your two cents’ worth."
The blue man stared at Flint curiously, but said nothing.
“What’s all this about, Thaddeus?” asked the Dancer, tipping his hat to his two employers and seating himself on an arm at one of the office’s sturdier sofas.
“Kargennian’s got a proposition for you, Dancer,” said Flint.
“Who’s Kargennian?"
“The Corporation guy—the one who looks like a little red butterball."
“I don’t know him."
“Why should you?” muttered Flint. “You’ve only seen him twenty or thirty times.” He shook his head, then continued. “He’s got a pretty interesting offer from a planet called Darbeena. We’ve just been discussing whether to accept it or not."
“It don’t make no difference to me where we go,” said the Dancer.
“It might this time,” said Flint. “It seems these Darbeenans have a lot in common with the National Rifle Association."
“What does that mean?"
“It means they carry guns, and they know how to use them.” Suddenly the Dancer’s face brightened, and he leaned forward eagerly. “They’ve offered us ten million credits if you’ll go up against the best gunfighter on their planet."
“Love to,” said the Dancer.
“There’s a catch,” said Flint. He paused for effect. “This is a fight to the death."
The Dancer laughed and slapped his leg. “Do you really mean it, Thaddeus?"
“I wouldn’t kid you about something like this,” replied Flint seriously.
“How soon do I get to do it?” asked the Dancer, barely able to contain his enthusiasm.
“First we’ve got to decide if you get to do it,” said Flint.
“What are you talking about?"
“I’m talking about killing someone who’s never done you any harm."
“That’s a chance he takes. Besides, his people probably think he’s gonna win."
“And the taking of a life doesn’t disturb you?” asked Mr. Ahasuerus.
“He’s gonna be trying to take mine, ain’t he?” responded the Dancer.
“Not if we don’t allow the fight to occur,” said the blue man.
“Where’s this here Kargennian guy?” asked the Dancer suddenly.
“Downstairs, in the mess hall,” said Flint. “Why?"
“Thaddeus, you and Mr. Ahasuerus have always been good to me and treated me decent, but I been waiting all my life for something like this,” said the Dancer without rancor. “If you don’t go along with it, I’m gonna hunt up this butterball guy and make my own deal with him."
“Even if it means you can never come back?"
The Dancer nodded gravely. “Even so."
“You’d never see another human being again,” Flint pointed out.
“This is more important,” said the Dancer. “Besides, maybe I’ll take Jiminy along. He can look as human as the next guy."
“Jiminy works for us,” said Flint.
“Then I’ll buy him off after I win,” said the Dancer firmly.
“In other words, you plan to participate in this gunfight whether you do it as a member of the carnival or not?” asked Flint.
“I got to,” said the Dancer. “Please believe me, Thaddeus: I don’t want to hurt your feelings none, and I’d like to stay with the show—but this is what I was put here to do, and there ain’t nothing gonna stop me from doing it."
Flint turned to the blue man. “Your witness,” he said with a smile.
“I know Billybuck’s feelings on the matter,” replied Mr. Ahasuerus calmly. “I think what I would like now is some input from Tojo."
“From one bleeding heart to another,” said Flint sarcastically.
“From one sensitive sentient entity to another,” corrected Mr. Ahasuerus.
“He’s just going to back you up."
“I’m sure he can think for himself,” said the blue man.
“How sure?” demanded Flint suddenly.
“What are you driving at?” asked Mr. Ahasuerus.
“Do you have enough confidence in Tojo’s sensitivity to let him make the decision?"
“Just a minute—!” stammered the hunchback.
“Yes, I do,” replied the blue man firmly.
“Done,” said Flint. He turned to Tojo. “Just for the record, had you heard anything about this gunfight before you came into the office?"
“No, but—"
“Then it’s up to you."
“But I don’t want it to be up to me!” protested Tojo.
“Well,” said Flint easily, “nobody can have everything they want, can they?"
“It’s not fair, Thaddeus!” continued Tojo.
“I know,” said Flint softly, “but it’s the only way we’re going to keep peace aboard this ship."
“Dancer, say something!” demanded Tojo.
“Ain’t nothing to say,” replied the Dancer pleasantly. “I’m fighting no matter what you guys decide."
“Don’t ask me to do this, Mr. Ahasuerus,” pleaded the little hunchback, turning to the blue man.
“Mr. Flint and I have irreconcilable differences on this subject. I have confidence in your judgment and character; I will put my trust in them."
“But you’re not a Man!” said Tojo, stammering so badly he could hardly force the words out. “Thaddeus is. He knows."
“What are you saying?” asked the blue man, blinking his narrow orange eyes very rapidly.
“That if the decision is mine, the Dancer is going to fight on Darbeena," said Tojo miserably.
“But why?” demanded Mr. Ahasuerus in disbelief.
“Because he’s my friend, and I care for him."
“But a gunfight . . ."
“It’s all he’s lived for,” said ToJo, “all he’s ever wanted. If it will make him happy, then I want it too."
“Even if it means he must kill a Darbeenan?"
“I don’t know any Darbeenans,” replied the hunchback. “I hope he changes his mind, but if he doesn’t, and the Darbeenan voluntarily faces him, then I can’t tell him not to do it."
“And if the Darbeenan should win?” persisted the blue man.
“Not a chance,” said the Dancer easily.
“Even if the Dancer loses, isn’t it better to die doing what he thinks he was born to do than to live for however many years he’s got left without once getting the chance?” asked Tojo.
The blue man sank back in his chair, totally deflated. “I gave my word,” he said at last. “So be it."
“Thanks, Mr. Ahasuerus,” said the Dancer, standing up and tipping h
is Stetson again. “You won’t be sorry—you’ll see."
“I am already sorry,” said the blue man miserably.
“I’d better hop down to the mess hall and tell—what was his name again?— anyway, I’d better tell him that the fight’s on.” The Dancer ruffled Tojo’s straight black hair with his hand, then left the office.
“Tojo, please wait outside,” said Mr. Ahasuerus.
The hunchback climbed down off the couch he was sitting on and walked out into the corridor.
“Mr. Flint, that was an underhanded and deceitful thing to do,” said the blue man, his eyes blazing. “You knew what he was going to say."
“Yes, I did,” admitted Flint. “Your job is money; mine is people."
“It was a terrible burden to place on his shoulders,” continued the blue man, his fingertips pressed so hard against the top of his desk that the color all but vanished from them.
“He’s tougher than you think,” said Flint. “He can bear up under it."
“Someone will die because of what you forced him to do,” persisted the blue man, his tones cold and emotionless.
“Someone would have died anyway. You don’t seriously doubt that Kargennian would have gone straight to the Dancer if we’d turned him down, do you?"
“I do not know,” said Mr. Ahasuerus, his fury reflected in his lean, angular face. “All I know is that you have manipulated me into a position that is all but untenable, and it will be a long time before I can forgive you for it."
“I had no choice,” replied Flint seriously. “The fight was going to take place with or without our blessing, and I knew that I was never going to persuade you to change your mind.” He paused. “You know, I’ve seen five men killed in boxing rings back on Earth. It was tragic, and nobody wanted it to happen, but it didn’t stop prizefights from taking place, and it didn’t stop people from wanting to see them."
“Including you?” asked the blue man ironically.
“Including me."
“Am I to understand that you will actually enjoy watching this exercise in barbarism?"
“I’d never admit it to the Dancer,” said Flint, “but yes, I would. Haven’t you ever wondered if he’s as quick as we think he is?"
Mr. Ahasuerus stared at him for a long moment. “Mr. Flint, we have worked together so closely and for so long that I occasionally forget just how alien we are from one another. I have nothing further to say to you today."
