by Isaac Asimov
“He’s getting reinstated?”
“I can’t discuss it, Ariel. Suffice it to say that Special Service clamped down on everything related to the killings, including that, and your Mr. Avery did not have the necessary security ratings. He was automatically barred.”
“Does he know that?”
“He’s been notified.” He sighed. “Look, Ariel–it’s been a lousy week and it isn’t over yet. When I heard it was you, I thought that for two minutes I’d be able to talk to someone who didn’t want a liter of my blood and a position statement. Where’ve you been, by the way? I’ve called a couple of times, but Hofton kept telling me you were unavailable.”
“As you say, it’s been a lousy week.”
Taprin nodded. “Touché. Look, what do you want me to do?”
“Talk to somebody, get them to stop. Or do you want to see the Spacer community leave en masse?”
“It might actually be safer for them. But I’ll see what I can do.” He gave a wan smile. “Maybe this Saturday? Dinner? I’m not sure what I’ll be doing, but if you say yes, I’ll make time.”
‘‘I’ll have to see, Jonis. This situation was unexpected. I might not have any Saturdays for a while.”
He was visibly disappointed, but he nodded. “I understand, believe me.”
“While we’re talking, what has been found out? And how did the TBI get involved? I was under the assumption Special Service was handling this exclusively.”
“For the most part they are, but the TBI has its own mandate.”
Ariel frowned. “Mmm.”
“Well, as you said, the assassins were Managins, but so far there doesn’t seem to be a clear connection between them and anyone else. Unlikely as it sounds, it may turn out to be that they did this on their own.”
“You can’t possibly believe that.”
Taprin shrugged. “Special Service knows what they’re doing. They’ve been keeping me fairly current, though I’d like it to be hourly rather than daily.”
“What about the people who murdered my friend?”
He frowned thoughtfully. “Oh. I, uh–frankly, I haven’t asked specifically. I assume it’s part of the same investigation. I’ll ask about it next time I get a report, all right?”
“Fine. Now please, call off the hounds. I’ll be doing damage control until I retire after this.”
Taprin winced, but nodded. “I have to return to the arena now and face the lions. I’d like to see you...”
“I’ll be in touch, Jonis. I have my own lions to fight right now.”
Ariel broke the connection. Her anger thrummed at the back of her head.
What had he said? I don’t give a damn about your sacred Three Laws because I don’t believe them.
That pretty much said it all, she thought. Jonis had put into words what likely powered all the fear Terrans held for robots. To them, a robot seemed to possess will, and anything with a will was potentially corruptible. Terrans relied on automatons, mindless machines with no will at all, but that could kill or injure purely by accident or if wielded by another human. Their machines could not refuse to be misused that way, could not make a decision to protect a human. They just did their tasks and if flesh got in the way, too bad. An accident. Or a human’s fault. They no more trusted that a robot with evident capacity to decide would never harm them than Ariel trusted that Derec’s “variation “on robotics would never harm her. Perhaps for the first time she really understood Terrans and their unreasoning fear of positronics and robots.
“Thank you, Jonis,” she mused. “Your last act as my lover was at least beneficial.”
If Taprin believed that, though, after all their time together and having worked so closely with Clar Eliton for several years, then how could he possibly represent Humadros’s and Eliton’s beliefs? She thought back over the interview she had seen, and his comments about Bogard.
He’s not, she realized. It’s over...
“Ariel,” Hofton’s voice came over the intercom. “Ambassador Setaris is on the link.”
Ariel touched ACCEPT. Setaris winked onto her screen.
“Ariel, where have you been?”
“Working,” Ariel said, more sharply than she had intended.
Setaris frowned slightly. “Are you aware of the flight?”
“Yes, I am. I’ve spoken to Senator Taprin about it. I think it should be taken as given that nothing will be done. Special Service has assumed complete authority over the investigation and the TBI is upset about it. They’re having a territorial dispute and they somehow think that entitles them to harass our citizens. I don’t think we can stop them any time soon, certainly not quickly enough to do any good. I’m going to make the rounds again and see what I can salvage, but with Tralen–” she glanced at the list Hofton had provided “–Shorit, Klasina, Prattek, and Qurvis leaving, I don’t expect to have much success.”
Setaris was quiet for a time. “I see. Legate Korolin is being put off over when the conference will actually take place, as well. Negotiations have snagged on venue. Once they start arguing about where a meeting is going to be held, it’s a guarantee that there will be no meeting.”
“It’s coming apart.”
“It looks that way, yes. Unless arrests can be made in the next day or two, our brief will probably be to sever relations.”
“It’s that bad?”
“The credits, Ariel,” Setaris said wearily. “You have no idea how much money is in play here. Without the conference and some kind of treaty...”
“I see. Then whoever did this has won. Even if they’re captured, they did what they intended.”
“Who knows what was intended? Yes, you’re probably right in the main, but–I have a meeting to attend with the other ambassadors in six hours. I doubt any of them will stay if Aurora pulls out. It would be pleasant if you could give me good news before then.”
“I’ll do what I can, Ambassador, but–”
“I won’t expect miracles, Ariel.”
Setaris broke the link.
“How generous,” Ariel said to the blank screen.
She resisted the urge to call Mia. They had put Bogard into play, a gamble Ariel had been reluctant to take, and now all they could do was wait to see if it paid off. She surveyed her desk. She had more than enough to keep her occupied, but just now she could not summon the interest to begin.
“Ariel,” Hofton broke in again.
“Yes?”
“I wouldn’t bother you with this normally, but under the circumstances I think you should take this call. Mr. Udal?”
“Udal...?”
“The vendor who filed a complaint of vandalism with us early in the week?”
Ariel felt a wave of annoyance. “What the hell does he want?”
“As I say, I think you should take the call.”
Ariel banged her finger against the ACCEPT contact.
“Yes, Mr. Udal, how can I help you?” She managed only a hint of strain.
“I, uh, request an intervention. I need asylum.”
“What? From what, Mr. Udal? Have the vandals come back to smash the rest of your illicit stock”
“Please, Ms. Burgess! I’m quite serious. The Terran Bureau of Investigation is threatening me with confinement.”
“For what?”
“Contraband. I swear I didn’t know, I swear it, but–”
Ariel felt a solid lump form just below her throat. “What sort of contraband, Mr. Udal?”
“Positronic robots! I swear, I’ve never handled–”
“Mr. Udal, come to the embassy at once. I want to speak with you in person.”
“Do I get asylum?”
“We won’t know that until I talk to you. Please come in at once.”
“Yes, yes. I’ll be there within the hour.”
“Sooner.” She paused. “In fact, Mr. Udal, stay where you are. I’m sending an embassy limo for you. Is that clear? Don’t leave where you are. I’m sending a limo.”
“
Yes,” Udal spluttered. “Yes, I–thank you.”
“Hofton, do you have Mr. Udal’s location?”
“Yes, Ariel.”
“Go there yourself, personally, and pick him up and bring him here. Immediately. Take–what’s his name down in security? Michensol? Take him with you. I want Mr. Udal in my office in half an hour.”
“Thank you, Ms. Burgess,” Udal said. “Thank you.”
Ariel broke the connection, more annoyed than when she had answered it.
Contraband. Damn and damn. What next? All she needed was for the TBI to announce the arrest of an Auroran smuggler and the presence of an unknown quantity of illegal robots scattered who knew where on Earth.
I should have stayed home this morning...
“I’m not at liberty to discuss the specifics of our investigation, Ambassador. Please understand our position.”
Ariel tapped her index finger impatiently on her desk, out of sight of the com screen. The TBI agent had been very polite, very receptive, and very uninformative.
“I understand perfectly,” Ariel said. “You’ve decided that the assassination was directed at Senator Eliton exclusively and Ambassador Humadros simply got in the way... not to mention all the other Spacer nationals killed or injured. They had nothing to do with the fact that only Terran nationals were the target.”
The agent–Royan–almost frowned, appearing puzzled more than offended. Ariel tried to imagine Mia like this after several more years in the Service–professional and cynically unresponsive.
“We don’t disregard the losses to your people, Ambassador Burgess, but we are conducting our investigation the way we think best. Again, I apologize if this has inconvenienced your people.”
“Your people.” We’re human, aren’t we?
Ariel made herself nod, matching Agent Royan point for point with politesse. “If you had come to us before you started rousting Spacers, we might have been of assistance. You could have gotten better results, saved us all time, and possibly moved on to a more productive avenue.”
“Ambassador–”
“Let me put it to you this way,” Ariel said, hearing another obfuscation coming and losing patience. “If you don’t desist from harassing Aurorans I’ll file an injunction through the Senate and block you at every step. I’ve been less than impressed with Terran law enforcement over this. Five days and not one arrest? How hard can it be, Agent Royan? Nine armed assassins charge into Union Station, in front of thousands of witnesses on site and millions more through subetheric, six of them are dead, and you can’t find the last three? My government is patient, but with limits.”
Agent Royan was openly frowning now. “We’re pursuing every likely avenue, Ambassador Burgess. You will just have to be content with that. I’m sorry–”
“If this inconveniences me, yes, I know, you’ve said that a dozen times since this conversation began. I am curious about one other thing, though.”
“Yes?”
“It’s my understanding that Special Service has assumed jurisdiction over this matter.”
“Technically, that’s correct.”
“Then what exactly is it the TBI is investigating?”
“I’m not at–”
“–liberty to discuss that. Very well, Agent Royan, I’ll let you get back to your job. You’ve been notified of our objections. The next time you hear from us will be in the form of a court order. Thank you for your time.”
Ariel stabbed the disconnect.”
The com chimed. “What?”
“Excuse me, Ambassador,” the robot receptionist said, “but there is a call”
“If it can wait, tell them I’ll get back to them.”
“She insists on speaking with you now, Ambassador.”
Ariel wondered if she would ever grow used to being called “Ambassador.” Coming from the robot, it sounded so formal; from humans, it just sounded odd.
“Who is it?”
“A Rana Duvan.”
Rana? Derec’s specialist. She touched ACCEPT.
“Ms. Duvan, this is Ariel Burgess. How may I help you?”
“Sorry to call you, Ms. Burgess, but I have a problem I’m hoping you can help me with. Do you know where Derec is?”
“I–he had an appointment this morning with Alda Mikels of Imbitek. Hasn’t he checked in?”
“No, but–well, I don’t think he could help, but he should know.”
“Know what?”
“We’ve been shut down.”
It took Ariel a few moments to understand what Rana meant. “Phylaxis? What do you mean, shut down?”
“I mean I have an order here from a judge, cosigned by the Chair of the Committee on New Technologies, revoking our license and ordering us to cease all operations.”
Ariel’s ears grew warm as she took the news in. “Who’s the Chair of the Committee?”
“Senator Taprin.”
“Hell...” She remembered then that the New Technologies Committee was a sister committee to Eliton’s Machine Intelligence Committee. So had Jonis done this on his own, or bowed to pressure?
Does it matter? she thought bitterly.
“It’s worse than that, Ms. Burgess,” Rana continued. “I’ve been ordered by the TBI to hand over all our material, including our RI. In fact, there’s an agent standing in the lab now, who says he’s going to remain here until I comply.”
“How long do you have?”
“Not long.”
“Can you–?”
“That’s what I need to talk to Derec about. What does he want me to do?”
Ariel drummed her fingers, thinking frantically. If the TBI got hold of the illegally downloaded RI matrix, they could charge Derec and derail everything.
“Have you finished everything that needed finishing?” she asked.
“Except for a few minor details, yes.”
“I’ll see to it that they can’t take Thales–that’s your RI’s name?–and get a team over there to remove it to the embassy. In the meantime, I’d just clean some things up. I’ll be back in touch.”
“Thank you, Ms. Burgess.”
The screen went blank again, and Ariel closed her eyes.
Never wonder what could be worse, she thought wryly. She touched the intercom. “Let me know the instant Hofton gets back–”
“He has returned, Ambassador,” the robot replied.
“Get him in here.”
A minute later, the door opened and Hofton came in with Mr. Udal in tow. Udal looked embarrassed and contrite. A security guard followed them both.
Ariel held up her hand. “Have Mr. Udal wait outside for a few minutes.”
Hofton raised his eyebrows, but turned to the embassy security guard and nodded. Udal left the office.
“You have that look,” Hofton said. “More fires?”
“Things may be falling apart faster than we can patch them together. You know where the Phylaxis Group is?”
“Yes...”
“TBI is there to impound all their equipment and data. I’m having a claim drawn up declaring their RI–its name is Thales–exclusive jurisdiction of Aurora as a positronic entity. I want you personally to get it signed by the appropriate bureaucrat, take it to Phylaxis with a team of our roboticists, and get it out of there before they destroy it. If possible, get a restraining order, and try to extract Derec’s assistant, Rana Duvan.”
“Shall I shift any planets from their orbits while I’m at it?” Hofton asked dryly.
“This is a bit more pressing than gravity, Hofton. I need Phylaxis and its material secured. Thales definitely, everything else as a can-do-if-possible.”
“How soon?”
“An hour ago. Now, send Udal in here and get on it.”
“Your wish, etcetera,” he said with a slight flourish of his hand as he backed away from the desk.
The security guard brought Udal in.
“Sit down, Mr. Udal.” Ariel entered commands into her terminal and the tri-D image of his mang
led robot came up. She reached under the desk and brought up the crate containing the contraband positronic brain, gratified at the sudden amazed fear in his eyes.
“I’ll talk,” she said, “you listen. This isn’t just a humaniform drone. This is a positronic robot and here is the brain. You receive the drone bodies through normal trade routes and buy the brains from a black market source. The result is an illegal positronic robot, contraband, forbidden by more laws here than I can remember. The people who vandalized your establishment weren’t there to simply damage your business, they were there to give you and us a warning. You’ve been trading in black market robots, Mr. Udal, and some of the local fanatics have found out about it. I admire the nerve to make a complaint to me”
“But–”
“I’m talking now, Mr. Udal. This is causing us a lot of trouble and if you want to come out of this with a whole skin you will begin cooperating with me. First, by telling me the truth. I want to know who you’re buying them from and where you’re picking them up. I want to know how long you’ve been doing this, and I want to know who else is doing it and what else is being marketed illegally.”
Udal’s face began to distort. “I can’t–”
“You can, Mr. Udal. Don’t tell me you’re afraid of reprisals. I assure you there’s nothing they can do to you that I won’t, and I can do it legally.”
It took Udal several minutes to reach the point of decision. Ariel waited. She could see it coming, see him wrestling with the options, and finally realizing that he had none.
“Kynig Parapoyos,” he said finally. “It’s all through him.”
Now, Ariel listened while Udal talked.
Twenty-Six
tactical parameters, security enhanced facility, path map in place, sensor log consistent with template, sublevels sealed, primary levels combined AI and organic surveillance, interconnected access between areas minimal, laboratory isolation standard, tentative probability escape assigned high seventy percentile, factors dependent on direct observation
BOGARD RECOGNIZED THE place as the headquarters of Special Service. Agents Cupra and Gambel stood on either side, guiding Bogard as if it were an invalid who needed careful attention.
