World of Chance

"Too bad!" Benteley said vaguely.

"Don't you care?"

"There's nothing I can do to Reese Verrick."

"You can kill him!" Her voice was shrill with hysteria. "Before he kills both of us!"

"No," Benteley said, "I'm not going to kill Reese Verrick. I'll wait and see what happens. In any case, I'm finished with that."

"And—with me?"

"You knew about the bomb."

Eleanor shuddered. "What could I do?" She hurried after him, frantic with apprehension. "Ted, I couldn't stop it, could I?"

"You knew that night when we were together. When you talked me into it."

"Yes!" Eleanor slid defiantly in front of him, blocking his way. "That's right." Her green eyes glittered wildly. "I knew. But I meant everything I said to you."

Benteley turned away, disgusted.

"Listen to me." She caught imploringly at his arm.

"Reese knew, too. Everybody knew. It couldn't be helped—somebody had to be in the Pellig body."

Benteley stepped back as a grumbling white-bearded little old man pushed angrily past him towards the ante­chamber. He disappeared inside the room and dropped his heavy book on the table with a thump. He blew his nose, moved critically about examining the chairs, and finally took a seat at the head of the table. Reese Verrick, standing at the window, exchanged a few words with him. A moment later Leon Cartwright followed after Judge Waring.

Benteley's heart resumed beating, slowly and reluctantly. The session was about to begin.

Chapter XIV

There were five people in the room.

Judge Waring sat at one end of the table. Leon Cartwright faced the massive figure of Reese Verrick, separated by two heaped ash-trays and a pitcher of ice water. Benteley and Major Shaeffer sat opposite each other at the low end of the table. The final chair was empty. Oster, the ipvic technicians, the Directorate officials, the Hill staff officers, had been barred.

Judge Waring glared suspiciously from Verrick to Cartwright and back to Verrick. "Is the recording business going?"

A recording technician crept agilely along the table and took up a position in front of Reese Verrick. "Thanks," Verrick said, as he collected his papers and prepared to begin.

"Is this the fellow?" Waring asked, indicating Benteley.

"He's the one I came for," Verrick said, with a brief glance at Benteley. "But he's not the only one. They're all breaking their oaths and betraying me." His voice trailed off, but he roused himself and quietly delivered his statement. "Benteley was dropped by Oiseau-Lyre. He came to me at Batavia looking for an eight-eight posi­tion; that's his class. Things were bad for me at that time but I took him on, in spite of my own uncertainty. I took him into my household, gave him a flat at A.G. Chemie."

Shaeffer shot a quick glance at Cartwright; he was ahead of Verrick's spoken words.

"I put him on my bio-chemist research staff. Fed him. Took care of him." Verrick raised his voice a trifle. "He was given a responsible position in my biggest project, at his own insistence. He stated that he wanted to get in on policy-level. I gave him what he asked. At the crucial moment he betrayed me. He killed his immediate superior, dropped his work, and fled. Too cowardly to go on, he broke his oath. The project collapsed because of him. He came here aboard a Directorate ship and tried to swear allegiance to the Quizmaster."

Verrick was silent. He had finished.

Benteley heard the words with a kind of dull surprise. Was that what had happened? Waring was looking at him curiously, waiting for him to speak. Benteley shrugged; he had nothing to say.

Cartwright spoke up. "What was Benteley's job in this project?"

Verrick hesitated. "He was doing substantially the same work as the other class eight-eight people."

"Was there any difference?"

Verrick was silent a moment. "Not that I can recall."

"That's a lie," Shaeffer said to Judge Waring. "He knows of a difference."

Verrick nodded reluctantly. "There was one difference," he admitted. "Benteley asked for and got the leading position. He would have taken the project to its final stage. He was trusted completely."

"What was that stage?" Judge Waring asked.

"Benteley's death," Cartwright answered.

Verrick didn't contradict him. He pretended to examine his papers until finally Judge Waring asked: "Is that true?"

Verrick nodded.

"Did Benteley know?" Judge Waring pressed.

"Not at first. It wasn't possible to make the information available to him immediately; he had just joined the staff. He betrayed me when he found out." Verrick gripped his papers convulsively. "He destroyed the project. They all deserted and let me down."

"Who else betrayed you?" Shaeffer asked curiously.

"Eleanor Stevens. Herb Moore."

"Oh," Shaeffer said. "I thought Moore was the man Benteley killed."

Verrick nodded. "Moore was his immediate superior and in charge of the project."

"If Benteley killed Moore, and Moore had betrayed you..." Shaeffer turned to Judge Waring. "It sounds as if Benteley acted as a loyal serf."

Verrick snorted. "Moore betrayed me afterwards. After Benteley——" He broke off.

"Go on," Shaeffer said.

"After Benteley killed him," Verrick said woodenly.

"What's that?" Judge Waring asked testily.

"Tell him what the project was," Shaeffer suggested mildly. "Then he'll understand."

Verrick studied the table in front of him. "I have nothing more to say." He got slowly to his feet. "I withdraw the material relating to Moore's death. That isn't relevant."

"What do you charge?" Cartwright asked.

"Benteley left the job I had assigned to him, the job he took on when he swore loyalty to me."

"It was either that or death," Cartwright pointed out.

"He should have stayed, it was his job."

Cartwright rose. "I have nothing else to say," he said to Judge Waring. "I accepted Benteley because I considered him freed from his prior oath to Verrick. I considered the oath broken by Verrick. A protector isn't supposed to send a serf to involuntary death."

Judge Waring's beard bobbed up and down. "A protector can destroy his serf on an involuntary basis only if the serf has broken his oath. In breaking his oath the serf forfeits his rights but remains his protector's property." He gathered up his law books. "The case here rests on one point: if the protector in question broke his side of the oath first, the serf in question was legally within his rights to drop his work and leave. But if the protector did not break his side of the oath prior to the serf's departure, then the serf is a felon liable to the death penalty."

Cartwright moved towards the door. Verrick followed, hands deep in his pockets. "That's it, then," Cartwright said. "We'll wait for your decision."

Benteley was with Rita O'Neill when the decision came, hours later. Shaeffer brought the news. "I've been scan­ning Judge Waring," he said. "He's made up his mind."

Benteley and Rita were sitting in a bar, two vague shapes in the dim colour-twisting shadows that enveloped their table. A single aluminium candle sputtered between them. Directorate officials were sitting about, murmuring, gazing vacantly ahead, sipping drinks. "Well?" Benteley said. "What is it?"

"It's in your favour," Shaeffer said. "He'll a

"Then Verrick has no claim over me," Benteley said wonderingly.

Shaeffer moved away. "Congratulations."

Rita put her hand on Benteley's. "We should celebrate," she said.

"Yes, I'm where I wanted to be." Benteley sipped his drink. "Working for the Directorate. Sworn to the Quiz­master. This is what I set out for."

Rita tore apart a match folder and fed the fragments to the metallic candle. "You're not satisfied, are you?"