A Gathering of Widowmakers (The Widowmaker #4) Read Online Free PDF Page B

liver, and he'll need some cosmetic surgery, and a new ear, but he'll live."
    "And he was me at what—maybe forty?"
    "Somewhere around there, maybe a couple of years older."
    "If he couldn't stop the kid, what makes you think I can? I'm an old man, in case you hadn't noticed."
    "He'll listen to you."
    "And if he doesn't?"
    "You're his creator. You'll seem like a god to him—and people don't kill their gods."
    "I'll bet that line got a lot of laughs on Golgotha," replied Nighthawk grimly.
    "I'm serious, Jefferson," said Kinoshita. "I serve the Widowmaker. There were three versions of him in the galaxy. One's been shot all to hell and is in the hospital, and one's disqualified himself from the job." He stared at Nighthawk. "Like it or not, you're the Widowmaker again."
    "The hell I am. I'm sorry about what happened, but it's not my problem."
    "Excuse me, Jefferson," said Sarah, "but you're wrong."
    He turned to her with a puzzled expression on his face. "What are you talking about?"
    "A clone of Jefferson Nighthawk who gave his hand, his face, his very identity, to keep you alive while they were trying to find a cure for your disease is fighting for his life in a hospital, put there by another clone of Jefferson Nighthawk, who killed a man he was told was innocent. Jason Newman was created to raise enough money to keep you alive while medical science was developing a cure for your disease; you were cryogenically frozen at the time, and had nothing to do with that decision. But the younger clone, the one who put him in the hospital and killed an innocent man, is entirely your creation. You owe it to—"
    "To the galaxy?" he interrupted sardonically. "I've paid the galaxy in full a hundred times, and Jeff has been paying interest on it since I sent him out."
    "I was going to say that you owe it to the clone who's in the hospital," said Sarah. "The one who risked his life to save an innocent man from your creation. If that's not your problem, whose is it?"
    "The kid is just doing what I taught him to do," repeated Nighthawk stubbornly.
    "And Jason Newman—what was he doing?" said Sarah. "I know, it might never happen again. But it might also happen tomorrow, and next week."
    "The kid's already put one Jefferson Nighthawk in the hospital. What makes you think he won't do it to me?"
    "Who else is there?" said Kinoshita.
    "Let me ask you a simple question, Jefferson," said Sarah. "If someone who had no reason to lie told you that a man you were about to kill was innocent, would you kill him before trying to find out the truth? If the answer is yes, then you're right and you should stay here. If the answer is no, then you'd better pay a visit to Jason Newman and learn what you can from him, and then find Jeff and correct the errors you made when you were training him."
    Nighthawk uttered a sigh of defeat. "All I ever wanted was to live out my life in peace and obscurity. You wouldn't think that was so fucking hard to do, would you?"
    "It isn't, for normal men," said Kinoshita. "But you're the Widowmaker."
    Sarah stared at him with compassion and regret. "I think it's probably time to stop pretending that you were ever anything else."

5.

    The ship touched down on Giancola II, and Nighthawk and Kinoshita emerged.
    "Ugly world," commented Nighthawk, surveying the bleak, barren brown landscape.
    "Thank you," said Kinoshita.
    "What for?"
    "Those are the first words you've spoken to me since we took off."
    "I wasn't saying them to you ."
    They entered the spaceport. Kinoshita kept his distance. Nighthawk had been in a black mood for the entire trip. Kinoshita knew, or at least thought he knew, that the old man wasn't going to shoot the messenger, but he was making the messenger very uncomfortable.
    Nighthawk approached the robot/kiosk, tossed his passport disk on a counter, and let it read his fingerprints and retina.
    "Welcome to Giancola II, garden spot of the Inner Frontier," said the robot. "Name, please?"
    "You read my passport.