Roy brought the glass of white wine up to his nose, savoring the floral aromas. He preferred to surround himself with less intelligent individuals, but he also never turned down opportunities to mingle with those of an elevated class. Compared to the dry outdoors, the hot air inside Sujin McCrory's double decker bullet train lounge warmed him, uncomfortably so. He resisted the urge to loosen his bow tie.

Across from him, Sujin the tycoon sat in his wingback chair, legs crossed at the knee, a way that Roy found feminine and loathed, though somehow the tycoon still oozed self-confidence. Sujin managed to have perfect posture and appear comfortable. Roy wanted to call him seven different vulgar names, but held his tongue. He did make it a point to widen his legs before crossing his in a figure four. For all that, he considered Sujin a friend. He had to. The Red Prince paid him handsomely every so often for healing.

They drank wine in silence. Roy had been invited, so he waited for Sujin to do the talking. As Roy himself studied Sujin, he noted beads of sweat surfacing on the man's forehead. The tycoon produced a handkerchief and dabbed himself. Roy noted that the color of his skin paled a few shades since they last met.

"Are you well, Mr. McCrory?"

In silence, the tycoon examined him as well, as if trying to solve a mystery.

Roy swirled the glass, then sipped again, happy to draw the meeting out. He reveled in the lush living Sujin enjoyed. Ancient music—a symphony Roy believed was the term—filled the void between them with a broad, busy sound, which was just a tad too bloated for Roy's tastes. Roy recognized the pompous display of lavish extravagance. As his sermons were a charismatic performance of showmanship, so too was this rendezvous, an act put on by this robber baron. Roy plastered on a grin so as to not sneer. He would not fall for it. If the tycoon had everything his heart desired, why did he seek an audience with Roy?

At length Sujin broke the silence.

"You're something of an enigma, Mr. Rothspalt."

"How so?"

"You appear like a tempest and take New Oklahoma by storm. None know exactly where you came from, or where you are going. But you have followers. And the people, they seem to love you. Or at least they love what you're selling."

"I've been here four years. Almost two years in Noke'la. Long enough to be a local. And I'm not selling anything. I offer them truth and hope."

"Hope in what?"

"Hope in a higher power. Beyond that I can't say. That is sacred knowledge for those of devout faith, if they have enough belief."

"Scarcity of knowledge. And leveraging people's willpower or lack thereof against them. A common power play tactic. The blame is never on you for being a demanding taskmaster, it is on them for their shortcomings. Clever. I must admit, I'm impressed with you Roy. But enough charades. We two men are not so different. We both thrive off of the lives of others. I turn a profit. You reap in dependence and affection."

"Since we're speaking bluntly, I've not said kind things of your type, nor of the circles you run in, Mr. McCrory. In fact, one could say I've made the tycoons out to be enemies of the good people of New Oklahoma, and Rubrum at large. I've equated you with Terrans even. Everyone needs someone to hate, you see."

Sujin nodded, as if he'd been aware of this all along. Sujin arose and limped to the window, leaning heavily on his cane, staring out at Noke'la. "Are you aware that this planet is in the throes of death?"

"This planet was dead when we got here a hundred years ago."

"Yes. But for a time, we rejuvenated it, coaxed it back to life. But it seems Rubrum is through, done living. It would rather we pull the plug."

"What makes you say that, Mr. McCrory?"

"Every time this planet gets a leg up, an event occurs to bring it groveling to its knees. This planet almost turned green, long ago. Or parts of it at least. My father remembered it. Told me so. But then you know what happened?"

"Another Terran war."

"Precisely. That war cut us off from Terra, ending the support and the supply chain. We were left to fend for ourselves, fix anything that broke, learn to do without. Rubrum has never quite recovered from the regression experienced in those days. We've made no technological advancements, stuck with the same level of ingenuity as when we got here a hundred plus years ago. And in most cases, we've gone backwards, lost ground in the ever-waging conquest of progress. Entire settlements lost in some cases. Like Coprates."

At the mention of Coprates, Roy made sure to keep his face blank. "Ain't so bad. We're surviving."

"Are we? Or is this a slow death? Punishment in purgatory perhaps, doomed to suffer the consequences, the repercussion of the sins of our fathers."

"I just carry on and mind my own business. I don't try to dwell on those things."

"What if you weren't immune to the regression, Roy? What if obstacles were about to crop up in your life?" said Sujin. "Because I understand that you have trouble heading your way."

"Do you now? What have you heard?"

"It's been brought to my attention that a certain Terran lawman, a U.S. Marshal no less, has been sent to apprehend you on account of your past...activities."

"I'm fully aware of the marshal. You're the third person to warn me of him. In fact, the first was a man from Tharsis. The first bum leg I ever healed. In a way you owe your recovering leg to him. He showed me I was capable of helping others with my gifts.

"But as for the marshal, I've not decided what to do." He lied. He'd wanted to request Sujin's help. He'd come ready to offer a compelling argument. Sujin was indebted to Roy for all of the healing he'd performed. Now it seemed forces were working on the tycoon for Roy already.

"One can never be too careful. I'm prepared to extend my own personal bodyguard as well as leveraging some other...connections I have made. Just say the word."

"You'd do that for me?" Roy beamed. "In exchange for what exactly?"

Sujin raised a gloved hand. He pinched and tugged at each fingertip before removing the entire glove.

"I've taken it upon myself personally, to not see this planet regress any further. I've drawn my line in the red sand. Call me superstitious, but since my resolve hardened, I've met more obstacles than prior to my decision."

He held out his hand for Roy to inspect.

An open wound marred the back of his hand, just in between the knuckle of his thumb and first finger. The skin around it oozed through hairline cracks. Purple and blue veins of corruption spread from the center, webbing their way out at random, stretching away from the focal point. A yellow secretion crusted over in the center of the wound, but Roy could see that even now, a dampness settled into the lesion.

"How does it feel?"

"Cold. No, hot. Both. It throbs."

"Where'd you get this nasty bugger?"

"Down in the canyon."

"What were you doing down there?"

Sujin closed his eyes, gave a sharp inhale, and shuddered. "Never mind that. Page has tried tending it with dressing, but it's growing worse. Can you tend to this?"

Roy frowned. It was obvious Sujin didn't want to speak of the incident. He was holding back some information. Roy had never seen the man so shaken.

"I can try."

"I know you can heal this. What do you want? Name your price."

Roy hesitated, but not because he was trying to string Sujin along. "What about the sheriff and his deputies? Do you have any sway over them? Sheriff Frumt and his lawmen have nothing against me, but they ain't for me neither. Save for one of the deputies, none of the others are members of my congregation. They could easily side with the marshal. Might see it as duty. And they won't want to provoke the wrath of Terra if they can help it. The marshal could easily gather them to his cause."

"Let the marshal recruit them. Even better if they join his cause. Let him feel a false security in the strength of numbers. Even if they side with him, I own the sheriff, and he can turn his hounds against anyone, even a marshal, and especially one so far outside the protection of his jurisdiction. You forget that lawmen of different affiliations often despise each other."

"Good. That puts my mind at ease." Roy paused, considering if he should allow Sujin to be privy to Cherry's power. "The King bestowed a vision on one of those in my inner circle. She saw the marshal and warned me. Then another man in Tharsis warned me of the lawman. And now you. My King proves himself ever faithful."

Sujin waved his good hand dismissively. "But don't forget who's providing you with the real protection. Warnings are great, but gunslingers and the creds that buy their loyalty are better. Now can you heal this?"

Roy jumped to his feet, towering over Sujin, eye's blazing yellow, hands burning amber. The stench of sulphur filled the lounge and the conditioned air crackled. The white wine boiled in the glass, then evaporated. Glass shattered, raining over the floor. "You think this is a game? Do not blaspheme my King. Without him, you would not be healed these six times before."

Sujin dropped his glass of wine. It toppled to the floor, staining the velvet carpet. Roy saw himself in the reflection of Sujin's eyes. For a moment all pretenses of wealth and prestige fell away from the tycoon, and he sat as if naked before Roy, exposed for what he was. A vulture in a place of power, but a vulture and not a man.

The tycoon gawked at Roy's undeniable display of power, but his sick hand went to his cane.

The tycoon regained his composure quicker than Roy would have given him creds for. He extended his hand to Roy, resting it atop the cane head, the wound on full display.

"Please, Roy. I meant no offense to your pagan deity. Obviously with all my wealth, I can seek out anyone to attempt to heal this, but you're the only one who's results I trust."

Roy's rage eased, flattery calming his nerves. He straightened his blazer and seated himself, reaching out with his hand and examining Sujin's again. His other hand clasped his medallion, drawing power from it.

He knew what made this kind of wound. And he also knew that unlike Sujin's ailments, the tycoon would never heal from this infection. All Roy could do was prolong the inevitable. The temptation to smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"Get comfortable in that chair, Sujin. This is going to hurt."