by Moulton, CD
I have yet to work on a case where every little detail was important, such as in Sherlock Holmes or Quincy. Life is much more likely to give you ten tons of pegmatite and one opal than ten tons of opals and one small lump of pegmatite – and the opal will be somewhere inside of the load, not right on top or right on bottom, in most cases.
Maybe that doesn't make sense to you, but it does to me.
I remember (naturally! When did a machine ever forget anything – and no remarks from TR? ) once when I started a story telling about my reading one of the novels. I flung the book across the room before I finished the first page, saying I knew who did it already, even though I didn't know what was done except maybe it was a murder – it was, after all, a murder mystery.
I later picked up the book and began reading it to find the page I read was a dream-sequence parody of a type of author. The story wasn't bad.
I mention this because I can be just as wrong as any detective anywhere. I have to stop myself from jumping to conclusions from insufficient data.
The story was one of the CD Grimes short stories and the point was exactly that. Those old stories that began in that manner ("...she had legs up to here and a body that wouldn't quit. When she spoke, her voice was like little bells, and a warm electric ripple ran up my spine...") were always the same. The woman who caused the reaction was the murderer.
The difference in that story was CD figured the same thing out in his stupid dream sequence. ("...so there was no point in going on in the investigation and getting shot up or worse. I'm not bulletproof, and am enough of a coward to know I'd probably get hit – and not a flesh wound somewhere that would let me jump from the hospital bed to continue the chase. However, if she was going to use....")
I personally prefer a bit of reality.
I've been shot at with a lot worse than a projectile weapon, and have been hit. I've provoked that act, deliberately, but I'm a machine with built-in deflector shields and such, and am in little danger.
I like a fantasy that isn't so completely improbable. I find that acting like I'm a somewhat greedy and self- centered normal businessman of whatever race I'm investigating will get me much better results than a tough- guy act.
A crook will trust a crook. He understands what's going on in his mind, but the tough-guy type, while often a crook, is never trusted. The violence freak isn't quite sane, and one doesn't allow dependence on someone they know is unstable. I've found in only a couple of cases that a person who is so unstable ever gets into a position of power.
Z would point out people like Hitler and Khomeini, but those names mean nothing to me, and Earth isn't such a great example anyhow. They seem always to go to the extremes, even now, when they're finally being allowed into the empire.
When I consider all of what I've written to this point, I wonder how much I lie to myself about things. Maybe I allow those novels of Z's to influence my programming to more of an extent than I ever knew.
I chased one Immin woman across a lot of planet, had a running battle with lasers, and was as close as I've ever been to being killed by her! (Oh yes! A machine can definitely die! Anything with independent intelligence can die.) It was like a lot of those spy/action things I read.
That's really different though, because those things weren't part of the detective business so much as they were part of the emperor's crew's duties.
I consider everything Z and Thing wrote, and find they've seen a hell of a lot more action in some ways than most of those spy novels, and those things are history, not fiction.
Let me just say that a murder mystery.... Let me just say I started out to give some background on things, and allowed my self-justification tendency to get out of hand. TR is, of course, aware of every word, and is getting quite a lot of amusement from it. TR likes to see me get overly wrapped up in these ridiculous situations of my own making.
Maita programmed me with a random screw-up factor, as it calls it so I could give it the reactions of a true organic mind. These things can't happen in a critical or dangerous place, but they've taught me embarrassment and more. I could, of course, simply erase the ramblings of the past few minutes and no one would be the wiser, but I'm not about to do so. It would be the thing TR expects, so I'll think like an organic and say, "What the hell! I wrote it and that's that!"
TR can enjoy even this rationalization, saying at least any readers who accidentally pick up the wrong book to try to read it will know confusion is my strongest trait!
"It's like on that planet, Vood," TR said. "When I told Heku your mind tends to wander. Last time it never came back!"
You see what I have to put up with.
Something Odd on Flimt
There wasn't much happening on Perfect 3, so I told TR to take us to EC. We might as well visit with our friends while there was time, and I was interested in Z's and Thing's gardens.
I'm waterproof, of course, and am built to withstand the high pressures at the depths where Thing's gardens grow, so I'm one of the few who can view them directly. There's a holoview in Z's home of a section of the gardens, but that's limited. The overall plan is vast and brilliantly done. It's much like the difference in standing on Z's terrace to view his orchid gardens as opposed to walking around the mountain. The small percent seen from one point tells you little about the overall picture.
Thing is capable of completely abstract thought, where even as advanced a machine as Maita or myself/TR simply can't handle all the random variables. It uses a number of those theories in its gardens in some very interesting ways.
It simply isn't possible (Okay! I mean it figuratively! I don't believe in impossible either!) to get an overall view of those gardens – yet it accomplished that very clearly. It was successful in getting a coherent view of random abstractions.
In addition, it's beautiful.
We arrived, and TR landed next to Maita, where it began to exchange information about whatever projects they were working on. I visited with Maita awhile, then went through the transmat to Z's. He'd left a note on the board that he was on the mountain with some of the Tendd and a couple of Joe's People working with the Cymbidiums and paphs.
I radioed to find Thing's floater wasn't far out in the ocean, so went out and down. Thing had another Mentan down there showing it around, and they both hooked tentacles around me. I have a receptor for Thing's empathic projections, so we were immediately in full communication with the contact.
We spent a couple of hours in the gardens, then I went back to Z's while Thing took its friend to visit its own island a short distance south. Z was still up on the mountain, so I went out to find him. I found some of the Tendd and Joe's People dividing the plants to plant in a large new area. They told me Z was farther along, so I went along a path with a rough terraced rock ledge to one side. There were Odontoglossums and Maxillarias on the lower parts, and Miltonias upwards. It was a beautiful display, and Z was hanging from a rope along a ways planting Zygopetallums and Masdevallias. We talked awhile, and I went back to relax at his place.
It may seem strange a robot would want to relax, but it's a relaxation from mental tensions, not physical ones. It was nice to lay around doing nothing.
I should have known it was too good to be true. TR called on the internals to say we had a case. It received the fastcom and took all the details that were available.
We had to go to Eachera in two days.
The delay was due to the fact only Maita and TR have TTH14, and Eachera is a long way off. Normal speeds would take that long. It would give me time to visit with the crew, so I took advantage of the time. We caught up on our stories and had some fun playing our jokes and insult games.
TR would wait until I was aboard to brief me on the case, and Maita, Thing, and Z would go to Inkta. Rimalt was expected to die at any moment and they would want to be there. I did too, but we all have our duties.
I imagine T6 will come back with them to EC and will become a sort of partner with TR and me in the detective job.
Perhaps it'll have Maita make it a second half and we'll have another team like TR and myself.
We all left EC at about the same time, heading in different directions. I told TR to catch me up on things en route.
"It's something odd going on on a planet called Flimt," TR reported. "The Eacherons are reptilians on the order of the Kheth, but with tails. They have that conglomeration of worlds out by the 'W' beacon that've all gotten along well for a long time now. You know about all of that. Maita went to all the planets there with Thing and Z.
"Well, there seem to be some kind of systematic assassinations going on, and Flimt's involved somehow. It's a new world in the group with a nice enough bunch of people – semi-mammalian.
"I can modify you from the description Maita has of them. Sort of between the Cheeth and the Bentans.
"They called Maita for help. Flimt did. They said they have nothing to do with any assassinations and are trying to establish themselves as productive members of the empire. Maita believes them, because only a society of idiots would call on the empire to investigate if they were guilty of anything at all.
"It's not the kind of thing that would accomplish much anyhow. It doesn't make a whole lot of sense, but we don't have nearly all the facts yet.
"I think Maita's afraid it's more Immins. It's the kind of thing they'd do."
"There aren't any Immins in that area, and probably none are anywhere anymore," I said. "We're going to have to start from nothing here, aren't we?"
"It sure looks that way! We're at Flimt. Do we go in as empire agents?
"I can put up a disguise and you can go in the shop or we can act like we know what we're doing and go in to find out what's happening before we fly off on one of our famous tangents."
"Yes. We can go to disguises later if we have to. We'll let them know the empire responds very quickly to requests of this sort." I didn't get the response I expected from that pious statement, so I immediately knew TR was worried. You learn to notice reactions of a being with whom you share a part of your mind.
"It's not Immins, TR. You and I and Rollo were one of the groups who scoured this area for them. They aren't here. Period. Let's get the facts first, then we can decide whether we have any reason for worry."
We've all had more than too much of Immins. I can certainly understand why Maita and TR would worry about finding any of them here, but I was certain it couldn't be Immins. The Eacherons and all others in this group knew what they had been and would've screamed to the empire if there was any hint whatever they might have survived out here. I couldn't think of anyone in the entire galaxy who wouldn't scream to Maita if any were found.
"I'm not the least worried about Immins," TR replied. "I'm worried about something else entirely. There was something else out here Maita thought was defeated once before and found that it wasn't.
"It's the mathematics. It's just that it's happening now and not ten years ago."
"Tlesson?"
"And Old Home. That was two hundred seventeen years ago and is one hundred ninety three plazsis (MGS light years) from here. Those robots didn't have TTH drive, but they did have very efficient STL drives. This is about right for that. Time means nothing to them. We had a problem with one or two of those things since."
"But that was a berserker machine! It wouldn't be carrying out a lot of individual assassinations! It's designed to do massive destruction, not this sort of thing – if I understand what you've said.
"Assassinations?"
"If any part of that machine did survive it's had nearly two hundred years to learn, and it didn't bring too much with it. It had developed a weird sort of basic intelligence, so it could theorize and change its methods."
"I don't think it could be that! What do you base it on, other than the timing and closeness?"
"The randomness. If one of these worlds were planning something it would be to exactly that – a plan. These peoples know each other. They've gotten along for three or four hundred years. None of us believes it's the Flimts doing any of this stuff.
"That eliminates all likely suspects.
"It's also a feeling. This sort of thing doesn't happen among the advanced worlds."
"Has is built robots to do these things? How could it even communicate? How would it know who or where or anything?"
"It learned Maitan long ago from the time of the robot wars," TR pointed out. "These people out here are Maitan Empire citizens and use Maitan in trade. It's a language ships in transit for two hundred years could have learned through any number of methods.
"You can think better than that!
"This scares me, Boss! I think you can figure the implications if that thing programmed something and it's now here!"
"I don't believe it. We'll have to get some facts here and work from them. These kinds of wild speculations lead nowhere."
I went to the spaceport offices. TR landed us on diplomatic ID, so there was an official greeting party. I went with them to a comfortable office where we discussed the problems.
There had been more than fifteen assassinations over the past halfyear of people from twelve different worlds. All the killings occurred on Flimt or on the planets and stations in the system, and all were important trader diplomats. None, of course, were Flimts.
"Are there many who oppose trade with other worlds?" I asked.
"No!" Gorg, the lead speaker for the Flimts cried. "We've actively sought trade with other peoples. That's why we can't understand this. It wouldn't make any sense for us to do anything like this!"
"We are a very curious and dynamic race of people," Hedda, another spokesperson, explained. "We want to travel the whole of the empire, and we want others to come here. We can't understand who is doing this to us or why. It can cause people NOT to come here!"
"I know of the mind probe the empire has, and that Emperor Maita declared it may not be used, except with consent of the subject," Gorg suggested. "I, and I think everyone else in this room, invite its use on me! Right now!"
"The probe may tell us something about all of this you aren't aware you know, but I know you're innocent," I agreed. "No guilty person's ever asked that the probe be used. That would have to be the greatest stupidity conceivable."
"We have a sort of basic theory about it. We truly hope we're making up scarytales!" Gorg demanded. "Use it on me to find if there is anything that may be of help."
Hedda insisted, "Anything I can do to resolve this situation, anything at all, I will do, without hesitation. We cannot afford this kind of thing at this time. People do not yet know us well. We must have trust!"
I called TR on the com device there in the room, though I'd already told it to send the probe on a floater. If it suddenly showed up things would appear suspicious to these people.
They all used the probe and the floater left. "Only the empire machines in my ship will ever read those probes," I promised – truthfully. I'm a machine in the ship. "It'll edit out anything pertinent and erase everything else. I assure you, your privacy will in no way be violated.
"I further assure you the empire will do everything possible to resolve the situation and find who's behind it. We don't condone such tactics under any circumstances. I'll try to keep you informed of anything as quickly as I can. There may be some areas where we'll require your direct help in conducting the investigation. I won't pause before asking your cooperation.
"If any of you discover anything, no matter how small, please inform me at once. Most of my cases are solved by some really stupid little fact or mistake made by the instigator. A little seemingly forgettable incident can have enormous implications."
They thanked me and I went back to TR.
"Nothing," it informed me. "They haven’t any idea whatever about what's going on. They meant it when they said their whole race wants trade and contact. They don't know of anyone who's opposed. They've based their entire economy on it. They aren't aware of anyone not in the guild having been here, and they're keeping careful watch for Imm
ins, because the empire asked them to do so.
"You were right about one thing! We have to start from hardly more than nothing!"
"Have you accessed all of their police reports of the assassinations?"
"Yeah, sure, Boss. They gave orders everything and anything we request is to be supplied, no questions asked. They don't have much in the way of police, because they aren't very much of a criminal people, but they've got pretty sophisticated detection systems. They had gifted students study all of it from the empire because they knew they'd be subjected to certain types of criminal things as members of the traders guilds.
"They even studied about us!"
I could tell TR wasn't worried anymore from that last little bit. I was supposed to get all pompous about what wonderful things we'd done. TR was baiting me.
"About us?" I asked. "Whatever for? I could understand if they studied about ME, but US?
"No, that doesn't make any sense!"
"Ah, stick it!" TR snapped sarcastically (How does a machine DO that?). "If YOU don't deliver here I'll let YOU explain it's YOU who does all the work!"
I grinned at TR's console and sat back in the pilot's chair to think. TR input everything about the killings to me at the same time, but I was getting a sinking feeling it was a lot of data that wouldn't have a lot of meaning. I set up circuits to look at the data from as many angles as possible.
There had been eleven deaths on Flimt, two on its larger moon, two on the next planet outward, and one on the relay station. All were shot with pencil lasers of some sort. There didn't seem to be any connection among the victims. It was almost random.
"I assume you've done all the locator rundowns?"
"Are we still snipping at each other?" TR asked. "I can say no correlations, or I can be sarcastic."
"I think we're in for a pretty mean one here. We can save the fun and games until I'm happily proven wrong.
