by Isaac Asimov
“There is something further in Bissal’s criminal record that does point to him,” Donald said. “I was about to come to it. His most recent arrest. Just about nine months ago, he was picked up on the shore just south of Hades and charged with the illegal transport of New Law robots and tampering with robot restriction devices. He could not make bail and thus served a full month in jail before his lawyers managed to get the charges withdrawn–according to the court record ‘for lack of evidence. ‘However, the arrest report indicates a strong case against Bissal.”
Kresh grunted. “So either his lawyers were better than what a low-class hood should have had, or else someone paid someone off. Or both. Except they didn’t want him on the loose so they didn’t pay his bail. It suggests someone was taking care of him–but not out of the goodness of their hearts.”
“Yes, sir. But there is one other interesting point. The arresting officer on the case was one Ranger Emoch Huthwitz.”
“Huthwitz!” Justen said. “So there’s your motive.”
“Motive?” Fredda said. “Wait a second. You lost me. Motive for what?”
“For killing Huthwitz,” Justen said. “It’s obvious. Huthwitz must have been bribed to turn a blind eye to the rustbacking delivery, but either he couldn’t prevent someone else spotting it, or else he double-crossed Bissal. And Bissal knew who to blame for his rotting in jail for a month.”
“Which reminds me, sir,” Donald said. “You have not given any orders regarding the arrest of Bissal.”
Devray looked startled. “You mean we’ve been sitting here all this time and there’s been no one out looking for him?”
“No, there hasn’t,” Kresh said. “My standing orders to Donald are not to issue manhunt orders without my specific instruction. Cases vary too much to set standard orders.”
“Well, what about it?” Devray asked. “Isn’t it about time to pick Bissal up?”
“Maybe, maybe not,” Kresh said. “Bissal is either on or off the island. If he is on the island, he’s not getting off it. He is either in hiding or else he’s slipped back to his regular daily routine, trying to pretend nothing happened, hoping we’re not on to him. He’s not going anywhere. We have time–a little time–to do things right rather than in a panic.”
“But suppose he got off Purgatory?”
“If the coroner robot’s reports are right about the time of death, we shut down all departures from the island and recalled all outgoing craft within two hours of Grieg’s death. Island traffic control says everything–everything–in the air or on the water was turned back. And before you ask, we were lucky on spacecraft. There have been no launches since an hour before Grieg was killed, and we have the spaceport shut down. We only have to worry about sea and air.”
“But you said he was probably working for rustbackers,” Fredda said. “Everyone knows their boats get through without getting caught.”
“Smugglers need legitimate shipping and air travel to hide behind,” Kresh said. “With the seas and skies empty, we’d be able to spot anyone trying to get away. The only way Bissal could have managed to escape is if he left the island’s airspace long enough before the turn-back order, and flying fast enough, so he would be completely out of view of the island’s air traffic control when the turn-back order came. If he managed that, he’s in such a damned fast aircar he could be anywhere on the planet by now. And traffic control didn’t spot any high-speed craft departing the island during the time interval in question.”
“So you think he’s still on the island,” Devray said.
“Most likely,” Kresh said. “And I think it might be useful to proceed with more care than speed in picking him up. It might be that we can spot him and trail him for a while first. Maybe he’ll lead us to some of the others in the plot.”
“Hmmmph,” Devray grunted. “It’s a possibility.”
“The other problem,” Kresh said, “is that if we go with a massive, all-out manhunt to chase him down, it will be all but impossible to keep the SSS from joining in. I don’t want the SSS in on this yet. Cinta seemed to be playing it straight when I talked to her, but I can’t count on that. My gut reaction as of right now is that the SSS wasn’t involved in the assassination, but we can’t run this investigation on hunches.”
“What do you do if you play it carefully, and then the SSS just happens to find Bissal before you do?” Devray asked.
“And he gets listed as ‘killed trying to escape.” Kresh nodded and rubbed his eyes. “I know, I know. And there is the minor detail that most of the island is under SSS jurisdiction and neither your people nor mine have legal arrest powers here. There’s no way to do this right–just ways that are more and less wrong.”
“Then let’s pick a wrong way and get on with it,” Devray said. He thought for a moment. “How about this–we send pairs of discreet, plainclothes officers out to start the search. One Ranger and one deputy in each team. That way we share the blame, share the credit, and our people can watch each other, even if they don’t quite trust each other yet. I can see your arguments for moving quietly, but I say we have to move quickly.”
The room was silent for a moment as Kresh thought it over. He got up from his chair, leaned forward on the table, and then nodded to himself. “Very well,” he said at last. “Donald, issue quiet orders for a search as per Commander Devray’s suggestion. Picked teams of plainclothes Rangers and deputies, working in tandem.”
“Yes, sir. If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I will have to concentrate on my hyperwave links in order to make the arrangements.” Fredda watched as Donald’s eyes dimmed slightly. Suddenly Donald was standing perfectly still, all motion stopped, an active robot turned utterly inert. Donald had in effect turned off his body for a time while concentrating on other things. It was rather disconcerting, even to Fredda, and she had designed Donald. We forget how unlike us they are, Fredda thought. Robots are shaped like us, walk like us, talk like us. But they aren’t the least bit like us. Not really.
After perhaps half a minute, Donald’s eyes brightened again and he came back to himself. “The initial orders have been relayed, sir, and I would urge both you and the Commander to review the final arrangements and brief the search personnel. It will take a little while to assemble the search teams, however, and your attention will not be required until then.”
“Very good, Donald,” Kresh said. “Which reminds me–what the hell are we going to say when we brief them? It might be a good moment to review our current theory of the case.”
“Not much theory left to a lot of it,” Devray said. “We’ve got a pretty good idea of who did it and how. We just don’t know why he did it–or who he was working for, which might well come to being the same thing.”
“Okay then, you tell me,” Kresh said as he sat back down. “I’m so punchy right now I don’t know any more.”
“Well, where do we start? Let’s see.” Devray thought for a moment. “All right, last night what was clearly an elaborate conspiracy to kill the Governor went into action. We do not as yet know who set it in motion, or what their reasons for wanting to kill the Governor were. However, whoever the plotters were, they were highly organized and had significant resources at their disposal.
“Long before the reception took place, they were able to gain access to the security robots and doctor them. The robots were rigged with modified range restrictors. Ah, Dr. Leving, perhaps you can speak to that point better than I can.”
“All of the SPR robots were indeed rigged with restrictors,” Fredda said. “That is, all but one of the robots was. I’ve just finished examining what’s left of that fiftieth robot–the one found in the lower-level storage room. Strictly speaking, it wasn’t a robot at all–call it an automaton. It didn’t even have a positronic brain. It was a machine with limited motor coordination, programmed to follow the next robot in line when they were marched down into the basement. That’s all it could do on its own.”
“Then what good was it?” Kresh aske
d.
“Have you ever heard the tale of the Trojan Horse?” Fredda asked. “It’s an ancient legend about a statue delivered to the enemy as a supposed gift, but filled with assassins who came out after dark and killed the defenders. That’s sort of what the automaton was, except it wasn’t filled with assassins–just assassination equipment, packed into its head and torso. The device for activating the range restrictors to shut down all the other robots, the blaster used to kill Grieg and wreck the SPR robots, and the device for simulating Grieg alive on the comm link–all of them were hidden inside the body of the Trojan robot.”
“Hiding the murder weapon inside the security robot. Someone has a nasty sense of humor,” Kresh said. “All right, then, the robots were all rigged. We’ve got to get started tracking those robots, and who had access to them. But don’t count on it telling us much soon. Rustbackers are good at covering their tracks. But we’ll get a team on it right away. Go on.”
Devray took up the narrative. “It would seem to me that the conspirators must have prepared the robots some time ago, setting them up either for this specific visit to the Residence or having them in readiness for whatever opportunity presented itself. My suspicion is that they were preparing for this specific visit. It has been publicized for some time, and they would have had the time to set it all up.”
“That brings up an important question that’s been bothering me,” Fredda said. “Why did they set up such an elaborate method of assassination? Surely there were easier ways to kill the Governor.”
“I’m not so sure of that,” Kresh said. “We keep–kept–very heavy security around him in Hades. There are far many more Three-Law robots around him there. Besides, I’m not sure that killing him was the entire point.”
“Then what was the point?” Fredda asked.
“Killing him here. On Purgatory, where it would cause the most mess and controversy. At the Residence, when he was here to demonstrate his own authority. I think they wanted to do more than kill him. I think they wanted to damage his work, weaken him, discredit him, create an uproar. And using range restrictors out of New Law robots won’t make people feel happy or comfortable, either. It gives them something else to blame on New Law robots.”
“Ah, I think you’re wrong there,” Fredda said. “They failed in the attempt, but they went to a lot of effort to hide the use of the restrictors. That’s why the SPRs were shot in the chest.”
“But why didn’t he shoot all the SPRs?” Devray asked.
“I think I know why,” Fredda said, “but let’s come to that. “She turned to Devray.
“All right, then, they set it up well in advance. During the party, Blare and Deam–the two supposed Ironheads who had orders to start a fight–came in, and the supposedly bogus SSS agents who had orders to extract them arrived as well. How, we don’t know.”
“Supposedly bogus?” Kresh asked.
“If you were sure they weren’t real SSS, wouldn’t Melloy be here?” Devray asked.
“Point taken. Go on.”
“Before I do, just note that at least six conspirators got into the building. Blare, Deam, the three real or false SSS, and Ottley Bissal. The SSS was in charge of watching the door, but they let at least six people in they should not have–along with fifty doctored robots and Space knows what else. Either the conspirators managed to get false names onto the guest list, or the SSS were lax as hell–or the SSS was in on it. Also, don’t forget some SSS units supposedly had orders to do a handoff to the Rangers once the guests had arrived, but that was a false order to get those units out of the way. My Rangers never knew about the handoff, and no one seems to know who gave the order to the SSS.”
“Bissal just walked right in,” Fredda said. “The SSS agents on the door were already gone by then, ordered to stand down.”
“Burning hells,” Kresh said. “You’re right, it all looks like it points to SSS involvement–but damn it, Devray, you know as well as I do it doesn’t take a conspiracy for things to go wrong when you have this many services jostling each other. Your people, mine, the SSS, the Governor’s staff, the local powers-that-be, hell, the caterers, and the media people. It was chaos around here. Sheer incompetence and missed communications and distrust between Spacer and Settler are all it would take. All the plotters would have to do was wait for their chances to slip through the cracks. Or maybe just spread a little financial lubricant around. Maybe tell a few SSS agents that your uncle really wants to sneak in just long enough to see the Governor. Or maybe it is a top-to-bottom conspiracy in the SSS with Cinta Melloy pulling all the strings.”
“With what motive?” Fredda asked.
“I don’t know. Ask Justen. Maybe they’re homesick and figure if they raise enough hell, the Settlers will have to pack up and go home.”
Justen Devray shook his head. “They might even be right.”
“They can’t be right,” Kresh said, all the tiredness suddenly gone from his voice, his words hard as iron. “We can’t let it be right. We need the Settlers,” he said. “Don’t ever forget that. You should know that better than anyone. Our planet is dying, and we no longer know how to save it by ourselves. Only the Settlers can save it for us. If we drive them away, this planet is doomed. Let’s keep that in mind, shall we?”
“What are you saying?”
“I mean we not only have to solve this case–we have to solve it without starting interstellar incidents. If we determine that, for example, the SSS killed Grieg, that is going to require very careful handling.”
“Meaning we let them get away with it?”
“I don’t know. You tell me. If it’s a choice between making an arrest and keeping the planet alive, what should we do?”
The room was silent for a moment. Fredda spoke up, trying to break the tension. “Look,” she said, “let’s not borrow trouble. Maybe it won’t come tp that. Let’s just take it one step at a time, all right? Now, Justen, where were we?”
“The alleged SSS agents, Blare, and Deam all got in during a ten-minute period when the logging system went out. About two hours into the party, Blare and Deam staged their scuffle with Tonya Welton. Which means we have to consider her too. She was part of the diversionary plan. Whether or not she was a willing participant is another question. Suppose she was running the assassination?”
“What would her motive be?” Fredda asked.
“Maybe she wanted to get Shelabas Quellam into office,” Kresh said. “Maybe she got tired of dealing with an overbearing Governor like Grieg. Quellam has as much backbone as a bucketful of water. With him as Governor, she could more or less run the planet herself.”
“But Quellam would only succeed if Grieg was impeached and convicted,” Fredda said. “As it is, Grieg’s Designate becomes Governor.”
“The story is that Quellam is the Designate, “Kresh pointed out.
“But is the story true?” Fredda asked. “Suppose that’s not true, and Tonya Welton’s intelligence is good enough to tell her that? Maybe she figured Grieg was going to be thrown out of office, and didn’t want Quellam in there. Or maybe her intelligence people managed to find out who the Designate is, and she decided she liked that person so much she wanted her or him to be Governor right now. Or maybe she found out Grieg was about to choose a Designate she didn’t like as much as the present name, and took steps to put her choice in office. Or maybe she wanted to precipitate such a shambles that she would have a viable pretext for pulling her people out of this forsaken vermin hole. If she wanted to abandon the planet and let everyone and everything on it die, what difference if the Governor dies a little before everyone else?”
“Do you really think she was behind it?” Devray asked. “You both know her. You make her sound like she’s capable of practically anything. I can believe she’s no shrinking violet, but is she really that ruthless?”
“I think Tonya Welton is capable of doing whatever she believes to be necessary,” Kresh said. “Anything. But no, I don’t think she did it. She’s
had lots of chances to walk away from Inferno, and she hasn’t. And if she wanted to take over the planet, she wouldn’t bother with this sort of hole-and-corner stuff. She’d just bring in a fleet with all guns blazing. On the other hand, that fleet could still show up anytime and there wouldn’t be a lot we could do about it.”
“You’ve got a real positive attitude about all this, don’t you?” Fredda asked. “All right, so there’s the diversionary fight. Meanwhile Bissal is waiting to get in–”
“Excuse me, Dr. Leving, but I must interject,” Donald said.” There were another set of participants in the staged altercation. Aside from Tierlaw Verick, they are, in fact, the only suspects we currently have in custody.”
“In custody?” Kresh said. “We have suspects in custody?”
“Yes, sir. Caliban and Prospero. They surrendered to me personally about one hour ago. I had only just returned from taking them into custody as I arrived here for the briefing. A condition of their surrender was that I was forced to agree that I would not reveal it to you until such time as I could do so in front of Commander Devray and one other witness, though I do not know the reason for that condition.”
“Caliban and Prospero?” Fredda asked. “Why didn’t you say something at the start of the briefing session?”
“Sheriff Kresh ordered me to report on Ottley Bissal,” Donald said.
But that weak excuse didn’t fool Fredda. A robot as sophisticated as Donald did not have to be that literal-minded in interpreting such an order. Donald had a flair for the dramatic. Not surprising, considering that his job was the solving of mysteries. Judging–quite rightly–that it would do no harm to discuss other issues first, he had waited until the proper dramatic moment to unleash his bombshell.
Or, to give a less anthropomorphic explanation, Donald understood human psychology and knew that humans would give greater attention–and greater credence–to his suspicions regarding the two robots if he waited until the proper moment.
Fredda herself wasn’t sure which explanation was right. Maybe Donald himself didn’t know. Humans didn’t always know why they did things. Why should robots? “Where are Caliban and Prospero?” Fredda asked.
