The Best Rootin' Tootin' Shootin' Gunslinger in the Whole Damned Galaxy (5 page)

      
“How old were you then?"

      
“Maybe seventeen. I hooked up with you and Thaddeus a year or two later."

      
“And you were already that good with a gun?"

      
The Dancer shrugged. “It's just like pointing your finger."

      
“For
you
, maybe."

      
“I could teach you,” offered the Dancer.

      
“No, thank you. Guns scare me."

      
The Dancer laughed.

      
“What's so funny?” asked Tojo.

      
“That guns scare you. I was just thinking that what scares me more than anything else is the thought of getting up and talking to an audience."

      
“It's all I ever wanted to do,” said the hunchback, trying unsuccessfully to hide his disappointment.

      
“Yeah,” said the Dancer. “Well, all I ever wanted to do was be a gunslinger.” He frowned. “So here I am, a zillion miles from home, shooting at decks of cards."

      
“And ten knives at once,” Tojo reminded him.

      
“It's all the same. There's only one thing in the world a gunslinger needs, and I ain't got it."

      
“And what's that?"

      
“Another gunslinger, standing maybe thirty feet away and looking to hit leather."

      
He fell silent again, and Tojo knew that in some country of the mind he was walking down a dusty street at high noon, ready to do battle against Doc Holliday and Johnny Ringo. Suddenly the hunchback became aware of another presence in the room, and turned to see Mr. Ahasuerus standing just inside the doorway, looking extremely agitated.

      
“Tojo!” said the blue man. “I have been looking all over the place for you!"

      
“I've been right here, talking to Billybuck."

      
The Dancer broke free of his reverie and turned to face his newest visitor.

      
“Howdy, Mr. A. What brings you up here?"

      
“I have just been informed of Mr. Flint's decision, and it is totally unacceptable!” said Mr. Ahasuerus.

      
“It's not that important,” said Tojo. “If that's where I'm needed, that's where I'll go."

      
“You shall do no such thing,” said the blue man. “He may be an innately decent man, but sometimes he simply does not think before he acts."

      
“I'm sure he's just doing what he feels he has to do,” said Tojo.

      
“I do not believe that, and neither do you. This is
my
show too, and I am not letting you perform!"

      
“Why does everyone sound like they think I'm gonna kill him?” asked the Dancer, mystified. “It ain't as if I ever miss."

      
“That is not the point,” said the blue man. “Tojo is a barker, and a fine one." The little hunchback's homely features lit up at that remark. “And he is not going to be part of your act unless he wants to be."

      
“Really, I don't mind,” said Tojo.

      
Mr. Ahasuerus stared at him intently through his narrow orange eyes. “Answer me honestly, Tojo: which would you rather do—be an announcer or work in Billybuck's act?"

      
“Be a barker, of course. But—"

      
“Then it is settled."

      
Tojo shook his head sadly. “Nothing's settled until Thaddeus says it is. You know that."

      
“I will fight him on this,” promised the blue man.

      
“Thank you for the offer,” said the hunchback. “But when did anyone ever win a fight with Thaddeus?"

      
“Then maybe it is time that I tried,” said the blue man uncomfortably. “You will not perform, and that is final."

      
“It won't work,” said Tojo. “If you promise me that
I
won't be in the act, and Thaddeus has promised the girls that
they
won't be in the act, then who is the Dancer going to use?"

      
“We will simply have to eliminate those particular tricks from the performance,” said the blue man.

      
“You can't just get rid of them and not replace them with something,” said Tojo. “Not only are they what the audience pays to see, but the show is running short anyway, now that Jupiter isn't performing anymore."

      
“Then we shall just have to come up with some alternative,” replied Mr. Ahasuerus firmly. “Possibly Max Bloom can expand his comedy routine."

      
“He's too old,” said Tojo, shaking his head. “He can barely get through what he does already."

      
“Can I say something?” asked the Dancer politely.

      
“Of course,” said the blue man.

      
“I got a suggestion that may solve everyone's problems."

      
“I should be more than happy to hear it."

      
“I ain't been too pleased with the act as it stands anyway, like I was just telling Tojo here,” said the Dancer. “So how about getting rid of the wheel and the Killing Machine altogether?"

      
“What would you replace them with?” asked Mr. Ahasuerus.

      
“I got a couple of million credits of back pay coming to me,” began the Dancer.

      
“They are in an account bearing your name,” affirmed the blue man. “But what has that to do with the act?"

      
“What if I was to offer a million credits, cash, to the man who could beat me to the draw?"

      
“Are you suggesting that you would challenge members of the audience to a gunfight?” asked Mr. Ahasuerus in disbelief.

      
“Yep."

      
“It is absolutely out of the question. I cannot condone cold-blooded murder. I am truly shocked that you would even suggest such a thing."

      
“I wouldn't kill no one,” said the Dancer. “I'd just shoot the guns out of their hands."

      
“What if you missed?” asked the blue man.

      
“You ever seen me miss anything I aimed at?"

      
“And what if one of them shot you?"

      
“Then I'd be out a million credits, and you'd still have enough of my money left to bury me,” replied the Dancer with a smile. “Don't worry. Ain't nothing ever been born, hatched, or spawned that can beat me to the draw."

      
“It
would
be quite an attraction,” admitted Tojo.

      
“I do not like it,” said the blue man.

      
“You'll like it when you see how much money it brings in,” the Dancer assured him. “You can send movies and some practice pistols ahead to the next world so the local boys can try to get ready for me. Maybe even run it on television."

      
“Video,” the blue man corrected him absently. He lowered his lean, totally hairless head in thought for a moment, then looked up and waved his strangely-jointed fingers across the front of an imaginary poster. “‘Billybuck Dancer Takes On All Challengers.'” He bared his teeth in his equivalent of a smile. “It has certain commercial possibilities at that. In fact, it is not unlike what Julius Squeezer does in the wrestling ring."

      
“Except that a gun is a mighty powerful equalizer,” interjected the Dancer. “Some of them guys, they take one look at all three hundred pounds of old Julius, and they know there's no way they're gonna whip him, so they don't even try. That ain't the case with a gunfighter. And,” he added, his eyes bright with excitement, “when they climb into the ring with Julius, they know there's no chance of anyone getting killed."

      
“You're
sure
you can just disarm them?” persisted Mr. Ahasuerus.

      
“You been watching me for five years now. What do you think?"

      
The blue man sighed as he lost a final battle with his sense of caution. “I think there won't be a tent big enough to hold the crowds that this will draw." He paused. “I wonder what Mr. Flint will say?"

      
“If I know old Thaddeus, he'll probably be mad that he didn't think of it first,” chuckled the Dancer. “It's the kind of thing he'd of come up with if his head was on right these days."

      
“Are you implying that something is wrong with Mr. Flint?” asked Mr. Ahasuerus.

      
“He's the only guy on the ship who's unhappy—except for me, and I'm getting happier by the minute."

      
“I myself have noticed that his behavior is perhaps a little more aggressive than usual,” admitted the blue man. He looked at the blond sharpshooter. “But I simply assumed this is because he is a naturally competitive man."

      
The Dancer shrugged.

      
“He has wealth, and fame, and security, and everything he ever wanted," persisted Mr. Ahasuerus. “Why should he be unhappy?"

      
“Maybe because he's got wealth and fame and security and everything he ever wanted,” replied the Dancer. He seemed to lose interest in the conversation. “Anyone want a Coke?” There was no response. “I got some milk in there, too.” He waited for an answer, then shrugged again. “I had some booze that I kept for company,” he apologized, “but Thaddeus drank it all."

      
“As long as we seem to be discussing the subject of emotional stability," continued the blue man hesitantly, “I think you should know that I take an interest in
all
my associates."

      
“That's nice,” said the Dancer pleasantly. “By the way, how's old Jupiter doing these days? He don't hardly talk to me no more."

      
“Jupiter is the same as usual. As long as he and Batman can take turns dunking each other in the Bozo cage and hurling abuse at each other, he seems content. I must confess that I do not understand him at all."

      
“What's to understand?” said the Dancer. “He's happy with what he's doing."

      
“And what about you, Billybuck?” asked the blue man, wondering exactly how to phrase the question. “Has facing the Killing Machine every night put any undue strain on you?"

      
“I don't know what you mean."

      
“Well,” said the blue man awkwardly, “a number of our people place their lives in your hands at every performance, and now it seems that members of our audience will be doing so as well."

      
“Yeah?” said the Dancer expectantly.

      
“I just want to make sure that your emotional state is . . . ah . . . all that we might hope it to be. I mean,” he continued, “that if anything were bothering you, I hope that you would feel free to confide in myself or Mr. Flint."

      
“Like what, for instance?"

      
“Anything at all,” said Mr. Ahasuerus helplessly.

      
“I'll keep it in mind,” replied the Dancer.

      
The blue man looked plaintively toward Tojo for help, but the hunchback simply shrugged and shook his head.

      
“All right,” said Mr. Ahasuerus with a sigh. “I shall speak to Mr. Flint about your proposal, and if he approves, we will incorporate it on the next world we play.” He paused in the doorway. “You're
sure
no one can outdraw you? There are some very unusual races out here."

      
“That's a promise."

      
The blue man took one last look at all the posters of all the gunfighters who knew no one could outdraw them. “Then I hope that this attraction proves to be as successful as you anticipate."

      
“You got the best owner and barker and gunslinger in the galaxy,” said the Dancer, flashing him a boyish smile. “What could go wrong?"

 

 

Chapter 4

 

He never drank, he never swore,
 

He never laid up with a whore;
 

He never smoked, he never wed.

He had one goal: to mete out lead.

—from “The Ballad of Billybuck Dancer"

 

      
Thaddeus Flint looked up at the ominous, overcast sky. “If I didn't know better, I'd say we were due for one hell of a blizzard,” he remarked to his hunchbacked companion.

      
“I asked Mr. Ahasuerus about that,” replied Tojo, “and he says that Tilarba's annual snowfall averages only thirty-one point seven centimeters."

      
“I don't know from centimeters,” said Flint. “I just know what it feels like."