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Captain Sir Henry Quill, Bart., stood at the head of the long table inthe officers' wardroom and looked everyone over. The way he did it wasquite impressive. His eyes were narrowed, and his heavy, thick, blackbrows dominated his face. Beneath the glow plates in the overhead, hispink scalp gleamed with the soft, burnished shininess of a well-polishedapple.
To his left, in order down the table, were Mike the Angel, LieutenantKeku, and Leda Crannon. On his right were Commander Jeffers, EnsignVaneski, Lieutenant Commander von Liegnitz, and Dr. Morris Fitzhugh.Lieutenant Mellon's seat was empty.
Black Bart cleared his throat. "It's been quite a trip, hasn't it? Well,it's almost over. Mister Gabriel finished the conversion of the powerplant yesterday; Treadmore's men can finish up. We will leave on the_Fireball_ in a few hours.
"But there is something that must be cleared up first.
"A man died on the way out here. The circumstances surrounding his deathhave been cleared up now, and I feel that we all deserve anexplanation." He turned to Mike the Angel. "Mister Gabriel--if you will,please."
Mike stood up as the captain sat down. "The question that has botheredme from the beginning has been: Exactly what killed Lieutenant Mellon?Well, we know now. We know what killed him and why he died.
"He was murdered. Deliberately, and in cold blood."
That froze everybody at the table.
"It was done by a slow-acting but nonetheless deadly drug that took timeto act, but did its job very well.
"There were several other puzzling things that happened that night.Snookums began behaving irrationally. It is the height of coincidencethat a robot and a human being should both become insane at almost thesame time; therefore we have to look for a common cause."
Lieutenant Commander von Liegnitz raised a tentative hand, and Mikesaid: "Go ahead."
"I was under the impression that the robot went mad because Mellon hadfilled him full of theological nonsense. It would take a madman to doanything like that to a fine machine--therefore I see no peculiarcoincidence."
"That's exactly what the killer wanted us to think," Mike said. "But itwasn't Mellon that fed Snookums theology. Mellon was a devout churchman;his record shows that. He would never have tried to convert a machine toChristianity. Nor would he have tried to ruin an expensive machine.
"How do I know that someone else was involved?"
He looked at the giant Lieutenant Keku. "Do you remember when we tookMellon to his quarters after he tried to brain von Liegnitz? We foundhalf a bottle of wine. That disappeared during the night--because it wasloaded with Lysodine, and the killer didn't want it analyzed.
"But, more important, as far as Snookums is concerned, is that I lookedover the books on Mellon's desk that night. There weren't many, and Iknew which ones they were. When Captain Quill and I checked Mellon'sbooks after his death, someone had returned his copy of _The ChristianReligion and Symbolic Logic_. It had not been there the night before."
"Mike," said Pete Jeffers, "why would anybody here want to kill Lewthataway? What would anybody have against him?"
"That's the sad part about it, Pete. Our murderer didn't even haveanything against Mellon. He wanted--and _still_ wants--to kill _me_."
"I don't quite follow," Jeffers said.
"I'll give it to you piece by piece. The killer wanted no mysteryconnected with my death. There are reasons for that, which I'll come toin a moment. He had to put the blame on someone or something else.
"His first choice was Snookums. It occurred to him that he could takeadvantage of the fact that I'm called 'Mike the Angel.' He borrowedMellon's books and began pumping theology into Snookums. He figured thatwould be safe enough. Mellon would certainly lend him the books if hepretended an interest in religion; if anything came out afterward, hecould--he thought--claim that Snookums got hold of the books without hisknowing it. And that sort of muddy thinking is typical of our killer.
"He told Snookums that I was an angel, you see. I couldn't be eitherhurt or killed. He protected himself, of course, by telling Snookumsthat he mustn't reveal his source of data. If Snookums told, then thekiller would be punished--and that effectively shut Snookums up. Hecouldn't talk without violating the First Law.
"Unfortunately, the killer couldn't get Snookums to do away with me.Snookums knew perfectly well that an angel can blast anything atwill--through the operation of God. Witness what happened at Sodom andGomorrah. Remember that Snookums has accepted all this data as _fact_.
"Now, if an angel can kill, it is obvious that Snookums would not dareattack an angel, especially if he had been ordered to do so by a human."
"Just a minute, Commander," said Dr. Fitzhugh, corrugating his face in afrown. "That doesn't hold. Even if an angel _could_ blast him, Snookumswould attack if ordered to do so. The Second Law of obedience supersedesthe Third Law of self-preservation."
"You're forgetting one thing, Doctor. An angel of God would _know_ whohad ordered the attack. It would be the human who ordered the attack,not Snookums, who would be struck by Heavenly Justice. And the First Lawsupersedes the Second."
Fitzhugh nodded. "You're right, of course."
"Very well, then," Mike continued, "since the killer could not getSnookums to do me in, he had to find another tool. He picked LieutenantMellon.
"He figured that Mellon was in love with Leda Crannon. Maybe he was; Idon't know. He figured that Mellon, knowing that I was showing MissCrannon attention, would, under the influence of the lysurgic acidderivative, try to kill me. He may even have suggested it to Mellonafter Mellon had taken a dose of the drugged wine.
"But that plan backfired, too. Mellon didn't have that kind of mind. Heknew my attentions and my intentions were honorable, if you'll pardonthe old-fashioned language. On the other hand, he knew that von Liegnitzhad a reputation for being--shall we say--a ladies' man. What happenedafter that followed naturally."
Mike watched everyone at the table. No one moved.
"So the killer, realizing that he had failed twice, decided to do thejob himself. First, he went into the low-power room and slugged the manon duty. He intended to kill him, but he didn't hit hard enough. Whenthat man wakes up, he'll be able to testify against the killer.
"Then the killer ordered Snookums to tear out the switches. He had madesure that Snookums would be waiting outside. Before he called Snookumsin, of course, he had to put the duty man in a tool closet, so that therobot wouldn't see him. He told Snookums to wait five minutes and thensmash the switches and head back to his cubicle.
"Then the killer went to my room and waited. When the lights went outand the door opened, he intended to go in and smash my skull, making itlook as though either Mellon or Snookums had done it.
"But he didn't figure on my awakening as soon as the switches werebroken. He heard me moving around and decided to wait until I came out.
"But I heard him breathing. It was quite faint, and I wouldn't haveheard it, except for the fact that the air conditioners were off. Evenso, I couldn't be sure.
"However, I knew it wasn't Snookums. Snookums radiates a devil of a lotmore heat than a human being, and besides he smells of machine oil.
"So I pulled my little trick with the boots. The killer waited andwaited for me to come out, and I was already out. Then Chief Multhausapproached from the other direction. The killer knew he'd have to getout of there, so he went in the opposite direction. He met Snookums, whowas still obeying orders. Snookums smacked into me on his way down thehall.
"He could do that, you see, because I was an angel. If he hurt me of hisown accord, I couldn't take revenge on anyone but him. And there was nonecessity to obey my orders, either, since he was obeying the orders ofthe killer, which held precedence.
"Then, to further confuse things, the killer went to Mellon's room. Thephysician was in a drugged stupor, so the killer carried him out and puthim in an unlikely place, so that we'd think that perhaps Mellon hadbeen the one who'd tried to get me."
He had everyone's eyes
on him now. They didn't want to look at eachother.
Pete Jeffers said: "Mike, if Mellon was poisoned, like you say, how comehe was able to attack Mister Vaneski?"
"Ah, but did he? Think back, Pete. Mellon--dying or already dead--hadbeen propped upright in that narrow locker. When it was opened, hestarted to _fall_ out--straight toward the man who had opened thelocker, naturally. Vaneski jumped back and shot before Mellon even hitthe floor. Isn't that right?"
"Sure, sure," Jeffers said slowly. "I reckon I'd've done the same thingif he'd started to fall out toward me. I wasn't even lookin' when thelocker was opened. I didn't turn around until that stun gun wentoff--then I saw Mellon falling."
"Exactly. No matter how it may have looked, Vaneski couldn't have killedhim with the stun gun, because he was already either dead or so close todeath as makes no difference."
Ensign Vaneski rather timidly raised his hand. "Excuse me, sir, but yousaid this killer was waiting for you outside your room when the lightswent out. You said you knew it wasn't Snookums because Snookums smellsof hot machine oil, and you didn't smell any. Isn't it possible that anair current or something blew the smell away? Or--"
Mike shook his head. "Impossible, Mister Vaneski. I woke up when thedoor slid open. I heard the last dying whisper of the air conditionerswhen the power was cut. Now, we know that Snookums tore out thoseswitches. He's admitted it. And the evidence shows that a pair of waldohands smashed those switches. Now--_how could Snookums have been at mydoor within two seconds after tearing out those switches_?
"He couldn't have. It wasn't Snookums at my door--it was someone else."
Again they were all silent, but the question was on their faces: Who?
"Now we come to the question of motive," Mike continued. "Who among youwould have any reason to kill me?
"Of the whole group here, I had known only Captain Quill and CommanderJeffers before landing in Antarctica. I couldn't think of any reason foreither of them to want to murder me. On the other hand, I couldn't thinkof anything I had done since I had met the rest of you that would makeme a target for death." He paused. "Except for one thing." He looked atJakob von Liegnitz.
"How about it, Jake?" he said. "Would you kill a man for jealousy?"
"Possibly," said von Liegnitz coldly. "I might find it in my heart tofeel very unkindly toward a man who made advances toward my wife. But Ihave no wife, nor any desire for one. Miss Crannon"--he glanced atLeda--"is a very beautiful woman--but I am not in love with her. I amafraid I cannot oblige you with a motive, Commander--either for killingLieutenant Mellon or yourself."
"I thought not," Mike said. "Your statement alone, of course, wouldn'tmake it true. But we have already shown that the killer had to be ongood terms with Mellon in order to borrow his books and slip a drug intohis wine. He would have to be a visitor in Mellon's quarters. And,considering the strained relations between the two of you, I think thatlets you out, Jake."
Von Liegnitz nodded his thanks without changing his expression.
"But there was one thing that marked these attempts. I'm sure that allbut one of you has noticed it. They are incredibly, childishly sloppy."Mike paused to let that sink in before he went on. "I don't mean thatthe little details weren't ingenious--they were. But the killer neverstopped to figure out the ultimate end-point of his schemes. He workedlike the very devil to convince Snookums that it would be all right tokill me without ever once considering whether Snookums would do it ornot. He then drugged Mellon's wine, not knowing whether Mellon would tryto kill me or someone else--or anyone at all, for that matter. He got adream in his head and then started the preliminary steps going withoutfilling in the necessary steps in between. Our killer--no matter whathis chronological age--does _not_ think like an adult.
"And yet his hatred of me was so great that he took the chances he hastaken, here on the _Brainchild_, where it should have been obvious thathe stood a much better chance of being caught than if he had waiteduntil we were back on Earth again.
"So I gave him one more chance. I handed him my life on a platter, youmight say.
"He grabbed the bait. I now own a spacesuit that would kill me veryquickly if I went out into that howling, hydrogen-filled storm outside."Then he looked straight at the killer.
"Tell me, Vaneski, are you in love with your half sister? Or is it yourhalf brother?"
Ensign Vaneski had already jumped to his feet. The grimace of hate onhis youthful face made him almost unrecognizable. His hand had gone intoa pocket, and now he was leaping up and across the table, a singingvibroblade in his hand.
"_You son of a bitch! I'll kill you, you son of a bitch!_"
Mike the Angel wasn't wearing the little gadget that had saved his lifein Old Harry's shop. All he had were his hands and his agility. Heslammed at the ensign's wrist and missed. The boy was swoopingunderneath Mike's guard. Mike spun to one side to avoid Vaneski's diveand came down with a balled fist aimed at the ensign's neck.
He almost hit Lieutenant Keku. The big Hawaiian had leaped to his feetand landed a hard punch on Vaneski's nose. At the same time, Jeffers andvon Liegnitz had jumped up and grabbed at Vaneski, who was between them.
Black Bart had simply stood up fast, drawn his stun gun, and fired atthe young officer.
Ensign Vaneski collapsed on the table. He'd been slugged four times andhit with a stun beam in the space of half a second. He looked, somehow,very young and very boyish and very innocent.
Dr. Fitzhugh, who had stood up during the brief altercation, sat downslowly and picked up his cup of coffee. But his eyes didn't leave theunconscious man sprawled across the table. "How could you be so sure,Commander? About his actions, I mean. About his childishness."
"A lot of things. The way he played poker. The way he played bridge. Henever took the unexpected into account."
"But why should he want to kill you here on the ship?" Fitzhugh asked."Why not wait until you got back to Earth, where he'd have a betterchance?"
"I think he was afraid I already knew who he was--or would find out veryquickly. Besides, he had already tried to kill me once, back on Earth."
Leda Crannon looked blank. "When was that, Mike?"
"In New York. Before I ever met him. I was responsible for the arrest ofa teen-age brother and sister named Larchmont. The detective in the casetold me that they had an older half brother--that their mother had beenmarried before. But he didn't mention the name, and I never thought toask him.
"Very shortly after the Larchmont kids were arrested, Vaneski andanother young punk climbed up into the tower of the cathedral acrossfrom my office and launched a cyanide-filled explosive rocket into myrooms. I was lucky to get away.
"The kid with Vaneski was shot by a police officer, but Vaneski gotaway--after knifing a priest with a vibroblade.
"It must have given him a hell of a shock to report back to duty andfind that I was going to be one of his superior officers.
"As soon as I linked things up in my own mind, I checked with CaptainQuill. The boy's records show the names of his half-siblings. They alsoshow that he was on leave in New York just before being assigned to the_Brainchild_. After that, it was just a matter of trapping him. Andthere he is."
Leda looked at the unconscious boy on the table.
"Immaturity," she said. "He just never grew up."
"Mister von Liegnitz," said Captain Quill, "will you and Mister Kekutake the prisoner to a safe place? Put him in irons until we are readyto transfer to the _Fireball_. Thank you."
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