Caliban

Donald sat down at the controls and they took off. “Did it strike you as odd that she wished to know so much about the Leving case? After all, she has no responsibility to investigate crimes,” the robot said as he maneuvered for altitude.

“Yes, I wondered about that. In fact, I rather got the impression that she was waiting for us to say something we didn’t, though the devil alone would know what that might be. I don’t know, Donald. Perhaps she has some genuine personal or professional interest in Leving’s well-being.”

“I see,” Donald said, some trace of uncertainty in his voice. “But I don’t regard that as a sufficient explanation of Lady Tonya’s strong interest. Note that she scarcely asked at all about Fredda Leving herself. It was only the robotic aspect of the case that interested her. Why does she care so deeply about the case, and why does she regard it as so overwhelmingly important?”

“I tell you what I think, Donald,” Kresh said as he watched the landscape below. “I think a Settler committed the crime, perhaps acting directly under Tonya Welton’s orders, precisely to set off more disturbances and give the Settlers an excuse to get off the planet. Bringing us in today during the riot was merely the first step in orchestrating that withdrawal.”

“Might I ask your reasons for thinking that?” Donald asked impassively as he guided the aircar.

“Well, first off, I don’t like Settlers. I know that’s not much of a reason, but there it is. And second, say what Tonya Welton will about this contingent of Settlers being trained to understand our ways and appreciate the Three Laws, I still can’t believe a Spacer would try any of the stunts that have been suggested to explain the attack. Think about them: building a remote-control device that mimicked a robot, strapping on robot feet and using a robot arm as a club, building and programming a special-purpose killer robot. No Spacer would do those things.

“Welton was right about one thing-the Three Laws are close to being our state religion. Interfering with them, abusing them or the concept of robots in any way, would be close to blasphemy. There are times when I think our illustrious Governor Chanto Grieg is pushing so hard for change that someone’s going to bounce up and call him a heretic. Maybe it even goes deeper than that. I find the very idea of perverting robots to be stomach-turning. It’s like the prohibition against ca

“No. Only a Settler would be stupid enough-well, all right, ignorant enough-to try and plant the idea that a robot could commit an act of violence. Any Spacer would know how deep and abiding the prohibition against that is.”

Alvar stopped and thought for a minute. Suddenly a new and disturbing thought dawned on him. “In fact,that might well be the motive. Maybe the Settlersdon’t want to leave. We’ve been too tied up with figuring how the attack was made to stop and wonderwhy anyone would want to attack Fredda Leving.”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow you, sir,” Donald said.

“Let’s just ignore all of Welton’s nonsense about respecting us as an alternate culture. She as much as said they came here as missionaries, hoping to convert us away from robots. The Settlers-this lot on Inferno, and all of them generally-arealways casting about for ways to make the Spacer dependence on robots look like a weakness, instead of a strength. Trying to convince us to abandon robots. You spoke about the need for us to trust robots. Suppose the attack on Levingis the opening salvo in a campaign to make us afraid of our own robots?”

“I see the point, sir, but I am forced to question the choice of Fredda Leving as the victim. Why would the Settlers attack their own ally?”

Kresh shook his head. “I don’t pretend to understand their politics, but perhaps there is some sort of bad blood between Welton and Leving. Some sort of resentment, some sort of competition or disagreement between them. Jomaine Terach hinted at it. It must be tied up in this grand project we can’t be told about yet.

“And I don’t think we’re going to get anywhere until we know whatthat’s about.”

THREEhours later, Alvar Kresh sat at his desk, reading through the daily reports, making notes to himself on the status of this investigation, that application for promotion. By rights, he should have gone home to bed, allowed himself some rest. All told, he had gotten perhaps an hour’s sleep the night before. But he was too keyed up to sleep, too eager to leap back in and get on with the chase.

Except, as yet, there was nothingto chase. Until and unless Gubber Anshaw emerged from his home, Kresh would be unable to question him. Maybe the forensic labs would be able to come up with something as they sifted through all the physical evidence at the scene. Kresh had a bet with himself that forensics would come up with something-but that it would be misleading. Whoever had done this thing seemed damned clever at leaving clues that did not point anywhere.

But until something broke with a witness, or evidence, there was damn little he could do.

No, there was one other possibility. There was always the chance of another incident. Another attack that could give him a pattern, a rhythm, he could work with. Another attack carried out a bit more sloppily. It was a terrible thing for a policeman to wish for a new crime to be committed, but there were precious few other ways he could get a break on this case. What else could he do? Send half the force out randomly searching for robot-soled boots? Surely the perpetrator had destroyed them by now, or else hidden them well indeed, ready for the next attack.

Alvar struggled to get his mind off the case. After all, he did have a department to run. He managed to get through a worrying report from perso

Because the Settlers were here to take over. He knewthat much, deep in his gut. No matter how many denials or reassurances they made, no matter how much noise Governor Grieg made about rapprochement and new eras of cooperation, Kresh would still believe-would stillknow- theSettlers looked at Inferno simply as a world ripe for colonization.

For the time being, the Settlers-at least most of them-were making polite noises, being respectful of local culture, but that would not last.Local culture. There was a political code word, if ever there had been one. A euphemism for the use of robots. Some optimists thought that the Settlers on Inferno would grow used to robots, come to see the advantages of robots, and perhaps even return home to their Settler worlds singing the praises of robots. A market would develop for Spacer robots on Settler worlds, and everyone would get rich selling robots to Settlers.

But Kresh had no such illusions. The Settlers were here to take over, not to be sold serving robots. Once they were firmly in control of Inferno-well, all it took to be done with a robot was a single shot from a blaster. After they had wiped out the robots, the Settlers wouldn’t evenneed to move against the Spacers. Spacer culture-and individual Spacers-needed robots the way a person needed food and drink. Too many jobs were given over to robots, too many people had never bothered to learn tasks that were more easily left to robots. Without robots, the Spacers were doomed.

Which brought him back to his central point: What happened to Spacers if robots could no longer be trusted?

And what if the Settlers engaged in a plot for the express purpose of finding out?