into him, on a dozen of the Edge-worlds. Malhomme, dirty and cynical,
moved among the dregs of the stars preaching religion and fighting the
corporations, the opportunists, the phony rebels who wanted nothing for
anyone but themselves. He had been known to break heads together with
his huge fists, and he had no qualms about stealing or even killing when
his anger was aroused. Yet there was a peculiar honesty about him.

"You always have to have a cause, don't you, Rene?"

The greying giant shrugged. "It makes life interesting, and it makes me
feel good sometimes. But I don't overestimate myself: I'm scum, like the
rest of them. The only difference is that I know it; I'm just one man,
with no more rights than anyone else, except those I can take." He held
up his large knuckled hands and turned them in front of his face. "I've
got broken bones in both of them. I wonder if the Buddha or the Christ
ever hit a man. The books on religion that are left in the repositories
don't say."

"Would it make any difference if they hadn't?" Rynason asked.

"Hell, no! I'm just curious." Malhomme stood up, hefting his repentance
sign in the crook of one big arm. His face again took on its arched look
as he said, "My duty calls me elsewhere. But I leave you with a message
from the scriptures, and it has been my guiding light. 'Resist not
evil,' my children. Resist not evil."

"Who said that?" Rynason asked.

Malhomme shook his head. "Damned if I know," he muttered, and went away.