The Widowmaker: Volume 1 in the Widowmaker Trilogy by Mike Resnick

someday when I know you better,” said Nighthawk. “I might even enlist your help."
    "How comforting."
    "It is?"
    "Certainly,” said the Marquis with a smile. “It means that it doesn't involve killing me."
    "To borrow an old expression,” said Nighthawk, “I've got bigger fish to fry."
    And perhaps a very old one to kill, before his attorneys and medics decide to kill me.
    "Really?” said the Marquis, interested. “So you think the assassin is a bigger fish than I am?"
    "You want the truth?"
    "Definitely."
    "I think you are the assassin."
    "I told you I wasn't,” replied the Marquis.
    "I know. But I don't believe you."
    "What do you plan to do about it?"
    "I plan to hunt for evidence. As slowly as I can. And hope that you're right."
    "I don't think I understand,” said the Marquis, frowning. “I thought you explained to me that your first obligation was to bring in the assassin."
    "My first obligation is to hunt for him. I'll be just as happy if I don't find him."
    "Ah, I was right!” said the Marquis with a smile, finally comprehending. “You fulfill your mission and it's back into the vat with you."
    "Not if I can help it."
    "Just stay out here and they'll never find you."
    "There's one man back there who can find me wherever I go,” responded Nighthawk.
    "Nonsense! You're the Widowmaker!"
    "So is he —and if they cure him, he'll be after me the next morning."
    "What makes you think so?"
    "It's what I'd do—and I'm him."
    "It's foolish,” protested the Marquis. “Why should the Widowmaker want to kill his clone—especially if no one is paying him to do so?"
    "You can't have two Jefferson Nighthawks walking around at the same time. I've got something that he spent his whole life acquiring: his identity. He'll want it back."
    "I don't know how you can be so sure."
    "Because I want to kill him for the same reason,” answered Nighthawk. “As long as he lives, I'm just a shadow. I'm not even legally alive. Every credit I make is his, everything I do, both good and bad, accrues to him.” He paused, trying to order his thoughts. “Jefferson Nighthawk's just a name. I can answer to it as well as any other. But Widowmaker's a definition . I won't be the Widowmaker until he's dead."
    "But he doesn't have that problem,” noted the Marquis. “He is the real"—Nighthawk winced—"forgive me, the original, Widowmaker. His money, his identity, they're his own."
    "But who will they hire when they want the Widowmaker—an old man they can't even stand to look at, or me? He can't let me live any more than I can let him live. God didn't mean for there to be two of us alive at the same time."
    The Marquis stared at the young man for a long minute. “I wouldn't have your dreams for anything,” he said at last.
    "My dreams are very pleasant,” said Nighthawk wryly. “It's just my life I have problems with."
    "Well, we'll simplify and improve it, starting tomorrow."
    "I hope so,” said Nighthawk, getting up to leave. He heard a door dilate behind him and saw the Pearl of Maracaibo's image in a mirror as she emerged from another room, one with a large unmade bed in it.
    But somehow I doubt it, he added mentally as he left the office and went back to join Malloy in the casino.
    And for just a moment it seemed that a very old, very diseased man was walking beside him with an unseemly vigor.
    You think it's going to be this easy? asked the old man. You think you're going to kill the bad guys and get the girl and spend your life hunting villains on the Inner Frontier?
    I hadn't thought that far ahead, admitted Nighthawk. But it's a pleasant future.
    It's a pipe dream. Do you really think I'll let you live once I'm out of that frozen tomb? God made one Widowmaker, not two.
    How will you stop me? You're an old man, and I'm in my prime.
    But I'm the real Widowmaker. You're just a shadow that will vanish in the light of my day. Think about it: the better you are, the sooner I can dispose of you.
    Then the image vanished ...