Chimera (isaac asimov's robot mystery)

by Mark W. Tiedemann

  "Still, I'm engaged in a project that I can't let drop. In a few days I might be able to reconsider-"

  "In a few days I could be dead."

  "Then let me recommend another-"

  "I want you, Mr. Lanra. I'm not interested in second best." Towne cocked his head to one side. "More money? Name your price, we can negotiate."

  "This is a personal matter."

  "Very much so. "

  "For me. I'm afraid I can't. Not right now."

  Towne looked about to say more, then closed his mouth. He shrugged. "I'm sorry, then. I'll have my people take you back to your office. Don't fret, Mr. Lanra, I'm not the vindictive sort." He pursed his lips. "This personal issue. Perhaps I could help. I'm not without resources."

  Coren hesitated. Towne's offer took on new possibilities. He could not use his own security people to find Nyom's killer, but it would have been good to have the help. He ran through a number of ways he might take advantage of Imbitek's security.

  No, it was too complex. He did not have the time to work it out, build the appropriate firewalls, exercise the desired level of control.

  "That's very generous," Coren said carefully. Damn, it's tempting…

  "I think I can wait one more day," Towne said. "Let me know." He looked to his left then, and gestured. "Thank you for taking the time to talk with me, Mr. Lanra. "

  The pair of security that had accompanied Socras appeared then. They escorted Coren back through the lush garden. He paused before the dead foliage on the way out, fascinated in spite of his decision.

  Decompilers? he wondered. He instructed his Desk to run a thorough sweep on the office for eyes and ears. When the Desk reported none, Coren was surprised. He hefted his hemisphere, wondering how else they might set up surveillance.

  I don't have time for this…

  "What about the searches? Report."

  "Of the twenty-three names you designated for records searches, partial correlations have been found as far back as twenty-eight years. Eight of them attended the same university together. Sixteen have military service records. Twelve share relatives through marriage."

  "Give me the highest factor of commonality."

  "Investment."

  No surprise there, he thought. Every one of those twenty-three names was moneyed. "Any particular stock?"

  "Nova Levis Corporation. All of them were primary shareholders. "

  "Nova Levis? The colony or the lab?

  "The lab."

  "You said 'were: They are no longer investors?"

  "The corporation ran for eight years without showing a profit and was consequently closed."

  "Sold? To who?"

  "Purchased outright by the Kysler Diversified Group. Debt paid out of available funds plus sale of equipment and patents."

  Kysler…the same company that owned those shipments diverted to make room for Nyom's baleys…?

  "What patents?" he asked.

  "Unknown at this time. Do you wish another search?"

  "Yes. Who was on the board of directors?"

  "Unknown."

  "Did any of those twenty-three sell early?"

  "Three: Kyas Vol, Tenebra Patis, and Rega Looms."

  "How early?"

  "Joint sale, three years after purchase of shares."

  "Did any other shareholders who are not on this list of twenty-three sell at that time?"

  "One. Gale Chassik."

  "The Solarian Ambassador?"

  "Presently. He was not ambassador at the time."

  Coren considered. "I want a complete dossier on Nova Levis Corporation. For the time being, though, how does this figure into Ree Wenithal's career?"

  "Ree Wenithal was an operative of EuroSector Bureau of Criminal Investigation. His last case involved research into Nova Levis Corporation as one of several laboratories suspected as collusive entities in a kidnapping ring. Results proved inconclusive, no action taken."

  So that's where his reaction came from…

  "Synopsis of his last investigation."

  "Three-year investigation of kidnapping and infant brokerage, leading to the discovery of a child-selling trade operating between Earth and a Settler colony named Tau Regis. Agent Wenithal received a commendation for excellence in police investigation, three citations for exceptional public service, and a merit commendation for valor after exposing the ring and overseeing its destruction. He retired one year afterward with full pension and lifetime honors awards. He opened his own business two years later, a small private security firm which failed after four years. He remained retired then until starting the present firm of RW Enterprises."

  "Hard copy the dossier on the investigation."

  "Only the public record is available. Details are under security seal pending review."

  "Very well, the public record, then." Coren tapped a fingertip against his chin, thinking. "Question: If Wenithal's case only lasted three years, why is there an eleven-year spread concerning the names in his files?"

  "Subjects related in prior investigations from various districts. Collated by Wenithal under his own investigation for related details."

  "So this was not the first time these matters had been investigated?"

  "No. Ongoing investigations in five separate jurisdictions extending back seven years prior to Wenithal's case."

  "Are any of the investigating officers available?"

  "No. Eighteen officers, all deceased."

  "What about staff? Are any of the people who worked for Nova Levis still alive and available? The principle researchers, what happened to them?"

  "Five researchers. Three are listed as deceased, one emigrated shortly after the lab closed, and the fifth is listed only as Missing."

  "Missing. Name?"

  "Kyas Vol. "

  "One of the primary shareholders who baled out early."

  "Correct."

  "Just missing, no last known address? What about his file? Who was he?"

  "An immigrant, native of Spacer world Theia, resident director of research at two medical centers prior to accepting directorship of neurobiology department of Nova Levis. "

  Spacer…?

  "Did he return to Theia?"

  "The record does not so indicate."

  "Missing." That could mean anything.

  "The one who emigrated-destination?"

  "Nova Levis."

  Coren grunted. "Why am I not surprised. "

  "Unknown."

  Coren felt himself smile at the Desk's literalness. "Very well. Continue search. In the meantime, link me to Sipha Palen, encrypt protocols."

  The screen emerged from the desktop and winked on. Coren waited patiently while the machines exchanged the proper codes to set up the link. A few minutes later Sipha's face filled the screen.

  "About time," she said. "I was beginning to think you'd forgotten all about me."

  "No chance. I've had an interesting time since last we spoke. Listen, I'm sending you a positronic specialist. "

  "You're kidding. You really know one?"

  "Two, actually, but you're only getting Derec Avery."

  Sipha frowned for a moment, then whistled. "I am impressed, partner mine."

  "You know about him?"

  "I know someone who knows him. You would think he was the reincarnation of Susan Calvin to listen to this person."

  "Who? Oh, yes. Never mind. Anyway, he should be on his way up within the next hour or two. He's coming in company with an officer of the Auroran embassy, a fellow named Hofton. Meet them, keep the heat off them, and get them to their embassy branch as quietly and quickly as possible. Avery's position with Terran authorities is…what would be a good word?…fluid. I don't want him busted and deported before he can do us any good. "

  "Consider it done. Nobody arrests anyone on my station unless I say so."

  "Good, good. I'm also sending you a list of names. This is a fishing expedition, frankly, but it might turn up something. See if any of the deceased match in any way."
>
  "I'll do what I can. Have you found your informant?"

  "No. Someone else is looking for her, too. It might be a race." He thought about that. "Keep your people alert to her coming through Kopernik. If she's on the run she might try leaving Earth."

  "Got a description?"

  "I'll forward you an image. What about on your end? Anything new?"

  "We found some fibers on the bin that match fibers taken from Nyom Looms' fingernails. She fought. Our target may be banged up a bit."

  Somehow I doubt that, Coren thought. "What kind of fibers?"

  "Synthetic of some kind. We're still analyzing it. I'll let you know when we identify it." She paused. "You're sending Derec Avery up. Does that mean you're staying down?"

  "Afraid so. I've got some things to follow up."

  "And you really don't want to get back on a shuttle, do you?"

  Coren smiled wryly. "No, not really. Sorry."

  "You're going to have to get over that some day. Especially if you ever expect me to continue our friendship."

  "We'll see."

  "Uh-huh."

  Coren shrugged. "Hey, can I help it if I'm just an ordinary Terran?"

  "You aren't, though. That's why your aversion annoys me."

  "Yes, well…" He felt awkward, caught wordless. "Did you tell Looms?" she asked.

  "Um…yes. He took it better than I expected. Or maybe not. It's hard to read him, sometimes."

  "Does he want you to keep looking?"

  "Yes."

  "You would, anyway."

  "Yes."

  Sipha nodded as if understanding something else about him. "Let me get back to work. I'll see to it Mr. Avery gets to the Auroran embassy."

  "Right." Coren started to reach for the disconnect, then hesitated. "Sipha, have you ever caught anyone smuggling stolen children through Kopernik?"

  She stared at him, momentarily stunned. "No. Why?"

  "Something…just a peripheral bit of information I stumbled on. An old case, nothing current. Just thought I'd ask. Thanks. "

  "Talk to you later."

  The screen went blank.

  Coren cleared his throat and shrugged, as if trying to physically reset his thinking. "Desk, do you have that public file on Wenithal's last case?"

  "Yes."

  "Display it, please. "

  The screen filled with text. Coren leaned forward and began to read.

  Eleven

  Union Station D.C. looked much the same as always, but Derec never felt at ease with it-not after the assassinations and the subsequent ruin of his company and his hopes. The floor had long since been cleansed of blood and now shone with the high polish of smokey mirrors. People hurried about their business beneath its cavernous arch, announcements echoed over the P.A., and no one seemed to notice how much it had changed.

  As Derec walked toward the customs desk, Hofton behind him carrying a large bag and a columnar container, he kept looking around, searching, until he realized what it was he sought.

  Robots. There were no robots.

  Union Station had once, for a short time, been a kind of free zone where robots worked openly. The Terran Senate had passed special legislation to allow positronics here, as a testing ground to see how Earthers would react, and to show Earthers the nature of robots. Spacers came through Union Station D.C. and no other port on Earth, so it was convenient to provide them with a reception area that offered familiar accommodations. A Resident Intelligence had been installed to supervise the complex operations of the facility and manage all the robots. Derec's company, the Phylaxis Group, had overseen its installation and had been contracted to do the maintenance and troubleshooting for it, but subsequent events took all that away. And more.

  He was nervous here: partly because it had been months since he had visited Union Station and his last memory of it held death, and partly because this was the first time since the trials at which the conspirators in the assassinations were found guilty and sentenced he had left the embassy. Though treated primarily as witnesses, Derec's staff had been detained and questioned for several weeks, and at least one person had been arrested on a minor charge tangentially related to Phylaxis and its activities. In the aftermath, it had been made clear to Derec that his presence on Earth may be required indefinitely. He was to make himself available to the court.

  His passport had been confiscated.

  Later, Ariel had let him know that she had interceded in his arrest. His Auroran citizenship was reinstated and he received a new passport, but his position became tenuous in the course of action taken by ITE to challenge the new document, and an injunction resulted barring him from leaving Earth.

  "Legally," Ariel had explained, "this is absurd. It's a gesture. They can't keep you from leaving unless they arrest you. They can't arrest you on Auroran soil. If you do leave, your Auroran passport won't be questioned anywhere else and without criminal charges being filed, there are no grounds for extradition. They're trying to keep you here because they don't know what they want to do with you. You frighten them. We all do."

  I have news for you, Ariel, he now thought as he placed his one small bag on the customs desk, they frighten me…

  Hofton set his burdens on the desk beside Derec's and extracted a disk from his jacket. He handed it to the attendant.

  "I didn't even have a chance to find out anything about the director of the lab," Derec said. "Rotij Polifos. Never heard of him. "

  "I had a chance," Hofton said. "And?"

  "I think later…?"

  Derec looked at the customs attendant, who seemed totally absorbed by their documents. "Sure," he said.

  In retrospect, Derec realized that he saw the attendant push the button. She closed out one screen, turned smoothly, and her hand brushed across a depression on the desk to the right of her keypad. A second later, she handed Hofton a disk.

  "Derec Avery?"

  Derec turned to the voice and found himself confronted by three men in uniform and a fourth in a dark suit. One of the uniforms stood closest.

  "Yes?" Derec replied, his pulse picking up.

  "Port Authority," the uniform said. "Would you come with us, please?"

  "Um…I…"

  "Excuse me, officer," Hofton said, stepping forward. "Is there a problem?"

  "We have some questions for Mr. Avery."

  "You may ask them here. We have a shuttle to catch."

  The uniform frowned. "Who are you?"

  Hofton extended his ill. The officer slipped the disk into a palm reader, then showed it to the man in the suit.

  "We are on Auroran embassy business, " Hofton said. "Unless you have specific issues that you are willing to state publicly, you have no legal grounds to detain us. Our passage is to Kopernik Station and we will be staying at the embassy annex there. I can cite you the relevant part of the diplomatic accommodations code if you like, but I believe you already know it. "

  "There's no need to-" the man in the suit said.

  "Identify yourself, sir," Hofton said. "Are you also Port Authority? If not, please produce a valid warrant."

  "Warrant…?"

  "If you wish to detain Mr. Avery, I believe a warrant is required-you may not do so on spec. If there is such a warrant, we are permitted to return to the Auroran embassy here for consultation with our law department. Mr. Avery is currently working under a brief from Ambassador Burgess. You may check that. The brief extends her diplomatic immunity to her agents. You may check that in the code as well. But you may not detain us while you do so unless you have a valid warrant."

  "What is the nature of your visit to Kopernik?" the man in the suit asked.

  "You have not yet identified yourself," Hofton said. "Mr. Avery is not obligated to answer that."

  "Are you a lawyer?"

  "No, sir. If I were I would have settled this matter by now. I'm giving you the benefit of a less predatory disposition. "

  The man in the suit stepped forward, his face reddening. "That man," he sai
d, jabbing a finger at Derec, "does not leave this planet. "

  "I repeat," Hofton said calmly, "do you have a valid warrant?"

  Derec watched, stunned, as if time had stopped. Hofton did not flinch, did not smile, did not do anything that might have looked like an actionable gesture. The man in the suit reddened further.

  "You have no authority to prevent him, " Hofton said finally. "If you attempt to do so, the Auroran embassy will file a formal complaint. If you do not have that warrant, I can also promise that you will no longer hold the position you currently do. Now, there's an easy solution. Kopernik is technically Earth. A satellite, true, and not on the ground, but if you check you will see that it qualifies as Earth. Mr. Avery is not leaving Earth."

  "That's facile," the man in the suit said.

  "Yes. But legal."

  One of the uniforms was smiling. The man in the suit stepped back.

  "I'll be contacting my people on Kopernik," he said. "We'll have this conversation sooner or later."

  "You'll have plenty of time then to enjoin Mr. Avery from further travel outsystem," Hofton said. "Now, if you don't mind, we have a shuttle to catch. " Hofton turned to the custom attendant. "Please return my original disk now."

  The attendant paled visibly and handed over another disk.

  "Thank you," Hofton said and grabbed the container and the bag. "Mr. Avery?"

  Shaken, Derec managed to walk toward the debarkation concourse.

  Halfway to the shuttle, he glanced at Hofton. "How true was all that?"

  "Mostly," Hofton said. "I was guessing that they had no warrant, which is the only reason I could think that might prevent them from detaining us. As for what the Auroran embassy would do if he had insisted-which he could have… well, I rather doubt they'd risk an incident over you. "

  "You bluffed," Derec said in amazement.

  Hofton nodded. "Successfully, I think." Derec took his briefcase from the Kopernik customs inspector, nodded curtly, and walked forward, into the debarkation lounge. From space, Kopernik Station resembled a child's construction from struts and blocks and spheres, additions over time added to the original dumbbell configuration giving the impression of an abstract modelbuilder's idea of a tree. Symmetry could be sensed but not directly observed.