The man standing in the shadow cast by Ruthie's trailer wore faded work clothes suitable for a roustabout. Rousties had been leaving the stalled carnival, and anyone who saw the newcomer would have taken him for a replacement hire.

Unless, of course, they knew him.

Or had seen him appear out of thin air.

Hack Scudder took a deep, shuddering breath. Then he opened his mind and verified that none of the horrors he dreaded had taken place. Yet.

That knowledge gave him no comfort. It told him the horror that surely would occur within a day or so was the one he dreaded most: the death of his son.

If Ben hasn't maimed a half-dozen people by now, he's consciously suppressing his self-healing.

He understands what he's doing. He's stronger and braver at age eighteen than I've ever been.

Hack stepped out of the shadows and looked around.

Carnivale. It hadn't changed much in all these years. The one place on earth to which I thought I could never return...

The Enemy knew that. That's why they bought it and traveled all over the country with it, searching for my son. Snatched him while he was young and defenseless, hoping to corrupt him...he shouldn't have been drawn into any of this till he reached his mid-twenties!

Hack didn't know exactly who or what "Management" was, in the sense of knowing a name or face. It wasn't important. All that mattered was that the carnival owner was an embodiment - far from the only one - of the Darkness he was sworn to combat.

He closed his eyes and saw Carnivale as he'd pictured it in his mind. A giant serpent slithering along the back roads of America, daring him, the Gentleman Geek, to try to bite off its head.

And I couldn't. Even after it caught Ben in its coils, I couldn't make myself come back.

Until now, when it's too late.

He was sure Ben's illness was the result of a psychic attack, payback for his having spurned Management. He'd intended, at the appropriate time, to teach his son the techniques the Templars had taught him for recognizing and repelling such attacks. Caught at the outset, they could be thwarted as easily as a man might bat away a fly.

But this crisis had arisen so suddenly that Hack had been unable to intervene. He'd been in Mexico, healing other people's children - youngsters injured when their school collapsed during an earthquake. Unfortunately, the fact that he spent most of his time in a noncorporeal state didn't enable him to travel more rapidly than other people. And the information Ben had needed was too complex to be communicated through dreams.

There's only one small thing I can do for my son now. I need to do it in person. And I will do it, no matter what ghosts I have to face.

I owe him that much.

And so much more...

He strode up to the trailer door and knocked.

It was opened by a powerfully built young man who'd apparently been crying. Has to be Gabriel. The youth said, "Go 'way."

"Could I please speak to your mother?" Hack asked gently. "Tell her it's...Ben's father."

Gabriel stared at him, then retreated into the trailer. There was nothing to stop Hack from barging in, but he waited politely on the doorstep.

He heard Gabriel murmur something, then a woman's startled gasp. He winced.

Ruthie was at the door in an instant. She looked anxious and exhausted, but otherwise she'd changed very little since he'd last seen her.

"Hack? Hack! I can't believe it, after all these years -" She went rigid. "Oh God. Do you - do you know -?"

"Yes, yes," he assured her. "I know about Ben. That's why I'm here." He saw hope dawn in her eyes, and made himself crush it quickly. "But I can't heal him, Ruthie! I can't save his life."

All she said was, "Oh," but she swayed visibly, and he had to grab her and steady her.

After a few seconds she asked, "Why not? I know you have powers."

"He's my son..." He let his voice trail off, implying that was some sort of explanation. At least it's not a lie. Can't tell her the truth - she'd want me to heal him by harming her. The last thing any of us need is a battle over that.

Thanks to his ability to touch Ben's mind from a distance, he knew Ben had led her to believe a healer couldn't heal himself. She wouldn't question the prohibition's extending to close kin.

Ruthie had clung to him briefly, but now she backed off and gave him a wary look. "I'm not sure Ben will want you here. I don't know what's goin' on with you, but he used to think you wanted to kill him."

"I don't want to kill him."

"I'm sure you don't, but -"

"Is he conscious, Ruthie?"

"Y-yes. But I don't want you upsettin' him -"

"Please, Ruthie!" I have to get in there. But forcing my way in should be the last resort. "I promise I'll leave if Ben wants me to."

She gave a grudging nod, and led him into her bedroom. The room hasn't changed much, either.

Prepared though he thought he was, he was shocked by Ben's appearance. But he didn't let himself show it. He did as he'd planned, approached the bed with his arms lovingly outstretched.

Ben's eyes widened. He shrank away from him, gasping, then blurted out, "Don't touch me!"

But in the next instant, a look of stunned realization came over the youth's face. He gazed up at Hack, trembling, and tears began to form in those expressive eyes. "M-ma?"

Yes! Just what I wanted.

Ruthie was furious. "That's it! He's afraid of you. An' you've got him so mixed up he's callin' for his mother! Get out!" She tried to shove Hack toward the door, and her brawny son seemed about to lend a hand.

He stood his ground. "I have to talk to Ben, Ruthie. In fact, I need to talk to him alone for a few minutes. I think he'll agree to that." He appealed directly to his son. "Please, Ben! I won't hurt you." Locking eyes with him and stressing every word, he said, "I promise I won't touch you without your consent. I won't do anything you don't want me to do."

Ruthie turned to look at Ben, and he tried to nod. " 'S okay," he told her in a ragged whisper. "Go."

"All right," she agreed, still sounding unhappy about it. "The trailer's small, so I'll go outside for a bit. Gabriel too."

"No one can know I'm here," Hack said quickly.

She looked exasperated, but nodded. "I never leave Ben, but Gabe can sit on the steps an' I'll go behind the trailer where I ain't likely to be seen. The fresh air will do me good. When you're through, knock on the inside o' the door to get Gabe's attention. But if it's more than a few minutes -"

"I know. Don't worry, Ruthie. It'll be okay."

He waited till Ruthie and Gabriel had left, then gently told Ben, "You know I can touch you without doing any healing. I swear I won't do any. Trust me?"

Ben managed a weak "Yeah." So Hack sat carefully on the edge of the bed, held his hand and stroked his hair.

"You were terrified at the thought of my touching you," Hack began, "because you were afraid I'd try to heal you and hurt Ruthie or Gabriel -"

Ben cut in with, "Or...yourself."

Hack swallowed hard. "Right. Or me."

"So maybe...Ma? D-di'n't hate me?"

Hack said quietly, "That's right. No matter what she may have said, I think there's a very good chance that at the end, she didn't hate you. She must have seen, years before, that your small healings affected plants and the like. And when she was dying the two of you were alone in the Dust Bowl, no other life of any consequence for miles around. If she'd let you help her, you would have harmed yourself.

"I think you had a mother who loved you."

Ben's eyes were closed, but he wasn't trying to hold back his tears. He squeezed Hack's hand and said, "Th-thank you...Pa."

Yes, Hack told himself, I was right to come. I've given him some comfort. And knowing what a good person Flora was at heart, I believe what I told him is true.

After a few seconds Ben opened his eyes, looked at Hack, and said, "Loving."

"What?"

"Graveyard...plants..."

"Oh, that," Hack said ruefully. "You noticed that when I healed you in that graveyard, nothing happened to the plants."

"You...hurt...yourself?"

"Yes," Hack admitted, "but not badly. I've found I can draw on my own life-force - I'm not sure how I do it. All I had to do that night was close a small wound and replace the blood you'd lost. But it depleted me enough that I couldn't hold a physical form much longer. That's why I vanished so quickly, couldn't stick around to give you more advice."

There was no need to tell Ben the rest of it: that he'd given away so much of his life-force over the years, seeking to atone for his sins, that he'd doomed himself to existence as an insubstantial wraith. The Grand Master of his Order had told him he could still have a normal life span, live into his seventies or eighties. But any time spent in this corporeal form reduced his life expectancy. By how much, no one knew. A day spent like this might shorten his life by a decade.

So what? I never expected to die of old age.

No, I shouldn't tell Ben that. But there are other things I should tell him.

"I want to be straight with you, Ben," he said heavily. "I don't have any magic tricks up my sleeve. Your heart and lungs are so badly damaged that there's no way I can heal you without hurting other people. And you've made it clear, by suppressing your own powers, that you aren't willing to hurt anyone." Ben watched him steadily, showing no surprise or dissent. "If you were still a child, I might do it anyway. But you're a grown man, so I have to respect your wishes.

"I would go against them in one area, sacrificing myself" - Ben stiffened, about to protest - "if I could. If it would work. But it wouldn't." Ben looked more relieved than puzzled, but Hack felt he had to explain. "I've given away a lot of my life-force, in bits and pieces. Just recently I used it to help accident victims in Mexico. So it's depleted - there isn't enough to be useful in this crisis, even if I poured all of it into you."

It was hard for Ben to speak, but he forced out the words, "Don't...want that."

Hack sighed. "Yes, I know." I also know we could communicate mind-to-mind, but you'd find it so unsettling that it would probably do more harm than good. "Anyway, here's where things stand. If I were to heal you here and now, some of the carnies would be injured. If I could get the carnival to leave - everyone, including Ruthie and Gabriel - and I used my life-force and even used Ruthie's snakes, it wouldn't be enough." Enough to restore you as a wraith with a 30-year life expectancy, but being thrust suddenly into that existence would drive you mad. "Taking you to a forest with lots more plant and animal life would work, b-but -" Unexpectedly, his voice broke.

But I couldn't get you there alive.

Ben whispered, "I un'erstan', Pa. 'S all right." Then his eyes widened in alarm, and he clutched Hack's hand. "Don't...don't...kill! Promise!"

"Don't...oh God." Of course. I should have expected him to think of the way he saved Ruthie. "Okay, I'll have to address this. You don't want me to bring you back from death by killing someone else..."

"Promise!"

Hack looked into his son's agonized face and said quietly, "This is another area where I'd reserve the right to defy your wishes, Ben - if I could. But I can't. Because no one can be brought back from the dead more than once."

It took a few seconds for that to sink in.

When it did, Ben tried to scream, but he began gagging instead. His thin body convulsed in his father's arms, then lay frighteningly still. There was a soft tearing sound in his throat.

Hack held him, stroking his face, whispering, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

At last Ben choked out a word. "Babylon!"

"Babylon...yes, that was why I killed Carl Butridge. I've always had a mental link with you, and I killed Butridge because you were dead. I'm sorry - I hoped I'd never have to tell you."

"Don't...remember..."

"You were fourteen, and you broke into a farmer's hen-house because you were starving. Remember that? The old coot beat you with his shotgun -"

"Oh, yeah. Jus' wanted...few eggs. Not stealin' no chickens..."

"I know, I know."

Ben was calmer now. He looked at Hack and said, "What about...them other miners?"

"I killed them all." So I could survive to counsel you. Five hundred men, and I still have nightmares where I can pick out every one's screams.

And then I didn't even take good enough care of you to prevent this happening.

After a long silence Ben said, "Okay. Nex' time...I stay dead."

Yes. Unfortunately, you do.

For several minutes the only sound was Ben's labored breathing. His eyes were closed, and he lay so still that Hack thought he must have fallen asleep or lost consciousness. Hard to tell the difference.

He decided to call Gabriel and Ruthie back in. Ruthie had allowed him more time than he'd expected. But as he was getting to his feet, Ben said in a bemused voice, "You...done all that...an' God ain't killed you?"

Hack sat down again. He took Ben's hand and said carefully, "Of course He hasn't. God doesn't punish us by killing us! If anything, He wants us to have time to make amends for our sins."

Ben looked up at him, frowning. "Thought...maybe...gotta die 'cause I killed Lodz."

"No!" Good Lord. It would be cruel to tell him he's going to die because the Enemy was able to take advantage of his youth. But I can't let him think it's some Divine punishment!

"Listen to me, Ben," he said slowly. "Illness usually strikes for reasons we can't presume to understand, but it's never a punishment sent by God. You've had to endure years of hardship and stress - like your mother, like Becca Donovan. That weakened your body's resistance to infection." More sophistry, more not-quite lies. "I know what happened with Lodz. You did commit a sin. You had no right to take the law into your own hands. But it was a minor sin. You didn't kill an innocent. You were in a position to kill the person who actually was responsible for Ruthie's death."

"Di'n't have no proof..."

"No. You lucked out. You could have killed an innocent man. Thankfully, you didn't.

"But you'd been under intolerable stress for twenty-four hours. You were frightened and frustrated and exhausted, at a point where you could barely think straight. Management had deliberately brought you to that point - which lessens your responsibility.

"Before that, you'd rejected an easy chance to kill an innocent. You'd made a heroic attempt to sacrifice yourself. And later, you turned away from Management. God sees all that!"

"Ain't 'nough," Ben whispered, his eyes closing again. "Ain't done...good deeds...like you, down in Mexico..."

Why did I have to mention that? "Ben! Ben! Look at me!" The eyes opened, but they weren't focusing.

"Ben, I have so much to atone for! Your sins are nothing next to mine. You know about Babylon. There's more, maybe worse."

That got Ben's attention. "Worse'n Babylon?"

"In some ways, yes." It's been preying on my mind - maybe I need to let it out. "I'll tell you, and you can judge for yourself. Remember, God has never punished me for this!

"Years back, there was another time Ruthie was bitten by a snake. I spent the night watching over her, here in this bedroom, not knowing whether I'd need to use my powers."

Ben was wide awake now. "She said...you di'n't."

"She never realized it, but I used them. Oh yes, I used them."

"She was dead? An' you -?" Ben broke off in confusion, doubtless remembering Hack had said no one could be brought back more than once.

"No, she didn't die. I got nervous after hours of waiting for her fever to break. I knew that when morning came it would be hard for me to justify staying on, being the only one to take care of her. So I went ahead and healed her."

Ben looked bewildered.

Hack made himself gaze directly into his son's eyes. "The problem with that," he said steadily, "was that we weren't alone in the trailer. Gabriel was a small child at the time - he's only a little older than you. The life-force I used came from him. That's why Gabriel is mentally retarded."

He was prepared for Ben's horrified gasp. He wasn't surprised when Ben jerked his hand away from him, but it still hurt.

He forced himself to go on. "And I'm not even sure there was a need to use my powers. Ruthie might have recovered on her own."

He was surprised when Ben groped for his hand again. Ben was in shock, his eyes glazed with unshed tears, but once again he choked out a single word. "Ac-ci-dent."

"Maybe not." Don't take the easy way out. Tell him the truth. "You haven't heard the worst of it. I've always suspected that on some level, I did it deliberately. Because I was jealous."

"J-jealous? Ruthie said...you an' her never..."

"No, we never did," Hack assured him, "and neither of us ever wanted to. We were just casual friends. I hadn't gotten over losing your mother back then, and I let everyone know it.

"What I was jealous of was Ruthie's having her child with her, when I couldn't have you."

Ben made a sound that was close to a whimper, and his tears spilled over. "Thought...you...abandoned me!"

Hack shook his head. "Not by choice. I did it to protect you. There wasn't a day went by that I didn't think of you.

"And I'm afraid I may have hurt Ruthie's child deliberately, for spite! He was so young at the time that she never knew he hadn't been destined all along to be retarded. But I knew. I left Carnivale when I realized what I'd done."

Once he'd started talking about it he couldn't stop. "Do you see why I think that's worse than Babylon? I killed a man there to save your life. When I went on to kill hundreds more, I did it so I could escape with my own life. I can't defend what I did, but at least something significant was at stake. And the people I killed were adults, not particularly nice ones.

"I didn't kill anyone here at Carnivale, but I betrayed a friend and injured an innocent child. And my only reason for doing it was that I resented their being together!"

Ben tugged on Hack's sleeve, surprisingly hard, and pulled him down closer to the bed. "Pa...you listen! Stop...beatin' up on yourself. You ain't even...sure...you done it...on purpose!"

Hack realized he'd been babbling. "No," he admitted, "I'm not."

And then he found himself saying something he hadn't intended. "Ben...should I confess this to Ruthie at some point? Tell me what to do!"

Understandably, Ben stared at him and said, "Why...ask...me?"

"I...I'm not sure." Why had he felt that sudden compulsion?

He'd had a purpose in his confession: to make Ben see that God wasn't in the habit of meting out death sentences for even appalling sins. That made sense. But why was he, at his stage of life, seeking guidance from a dying eighteen-year-old?

"I can't explain it. But somehow, I know it's you I should ask. Please, Ben, tell me what you think! I'll abide by whatever you say. Should I confess to her?"

Ben hesitated, clearly wrestling with this unwelcome dilemma. But when he spoke, his voice was firm. "No."

Hack sighed. He felt relieved and, at the same time, guilty for having put the burden of decision on his son. "Thank you," he whispered.

He still didn't understand what had just happened, but he tried to shake it off. "Thinking of Ruthie and Gabriel," he said, "I'd better let them know they can come back in."

"Pa!" Ben clutched at him. "You...stay...too?"

"Yes, I'll stay," Hack said softly. "If you want me, I'm sure Ruthie won't have any objection.

"Don't worry, son. As long as you need me, I'll be here."