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“What about nut cults?”
“I was coming to that. Galactic law requires us not to interfere with any religion and to adhere to that rule sternly. But since the weak and the juvenile require protection so that, always legally and with the utmost caution, we do investigate all religions thoroughly. We make ongoing investigations to assure that religious rights are not violated, that each religion has the freedom to practice in its own way, that minors’ rights are not violated, that parishioners have complete freedom of choice—”
“What you are trying to say is that you keep tabs on who goes to what church and how often and you know what they are getting up to.”
“Precisely,” he growled defensively. “The records are secure and can only be accessed at the highest level in case of emergency.”
“All right. We have an emergency and they have been accessed. Tell me.”
“Rowena Vinicultura is one of the first members of the Temple. She attends regularly. She brought your wife to exactly four seances or sessions or whatever they call them.”
“So?”
He was begi
His voice ran down and he stared at his desktop. I finished the sentence for him.
“Master Fanyimadu does not appear in any entry in any of your records.”
He nodded without looking up. “We know his place of residence and have documented his attendance at the temple. However to preserve religious freedom we have done no more than that.”
“No investigations? No cross—reference with Immigration or Criminal Affairs?”
He shook his head in silence. I glowered. “Let me guess. You don’t know how he came to this planet, or if he is still here—or if he has left. Is that correct?”
“There has been… a certain failure of communication, an oversight.”
“Oversight!” I exploded, jumping to my feet and stamping the length of the room and back. “Oversight! Fire and blood and an explosion, a woman in the hospital and my wife vanished—and you call that oversight!”
“There is no need to lose your temper—”
“Yes there is!”
“—we are proceeding with the investigation and have already made some progress.” He ignored my sneer. “The blood found in the temple has been subjected to analysis down to the molecular and subatomic levels. These results have been compared to those of everyone on this planet. We keep complete health and hospital records as you might imagine. Computers are accessing this immense data base at the present moment. When I called you earlier the search had been narrowed to less than twenty possibilities. As we talked I have been following the progress on this readout.” He tapped the screen on the desk. “The exacting comparison has now been reduced to five. Nofour. Wait—there are only three now, And two of them are women! And that remaining man is…”
As he tore the slip from his printout we turned as one and raced for the door.
“Who?” I shouted as we ran. He read without breaking his stride.
“Professor Justin Slakey.”
“Where?”
“Under sixty seconds’ flight from here.”
At least he was right about that. The copter was airborne even as we fell through its door. The military must have had the news the instant that the police did because a cover of military jets roared by above us. Even before we began our descent we could see that copcopters were already hitting the ground and unloading troops to surround the house. Rotors roaring we dropped down onto the stone—flagged patio. Cohn had produced a large gun and was a fraction of a second ahead of me as we kicked open the doors.
The house was empty, the bird flown.
A suitcase was obviously missing, a gaping hole like a missing tooth from what had been a row of four in the bedroom closet. The garage door gaped open. A commofficer strode in, saluting as he pulled a printout from his chest pack.
“Gone, sir,” he said. Collin snarled as he grabbed the sheet.
“Professor J. Slakey, passenger on the stellar liner Star of Serendipity. Departed…” He looked up and his face was grim. “A little over an hour ago.”
“So they are already in warpdrive and ca
“That is the worst part. He really is Professor Slakey. I started a search as soon as his name appeared. I have just received a report directly from the medical authorities. He is a physicist of interstellar repute who was requested to come here by the Medical Commission, no expense was too great to acquire his services. Something to do with retarded entropy as applied to our hospital work.”
“Sounds reasonable. Slow down entropy and you slow down aging. Which is what this planet is all about. Was he for real?”
“Undoubtedly. I had the privilege of meeting him at a function once. Everyone there, the scientists, physicists for the main part, were greatly in awe of his talents and the work that he did here. lam getting reports now,” he touched his earphone, “that they all refuse to believe he had anything to do with the Fanyimadu personality.”
“Do you?”
Before he could answer there was a shouted exchange outside, then the door wasthrown open and a policeman ran in. Holding an insulated container.
“The search team found this when they were going through all the debris in the Temple of Eternal Truth, Captain—crushed under the machinery in the temple. We had no idea it was there until the wreckage was lifted. It’s a… human hand.”
He put it on the table and, in silence, we looked through the transparent side at the crushed and mangled hand inside. I had a long moment of panic before I could see by the size, the shape, that it was certainly male.
“Did anyone think to take the fingerprints of this?” I said.
“Yes, sir. They were sent for comparison..
He was interrupted by the ring of the phone. Captain Collin put it to his ear, listened, replaced it slowly.
“Positive identification. This is—Professor Slakey’s hand.”
I pointed. “If you need proof, there it is. They were one and the same person. The blood tests, now this. Slakey was Fanyimadu. Keep me informed of everything. Understand?”
I did not wait around for an answer. Turned on my heel—and left. Called back over my shoulder. “I assume that all details on Slakey will be in my commhopper when I get home.”
So much for the police and the authorities. It was time to get to work. I radioed for a cab, told the driver to have my own car returned from the Central Police Station—one of the perks of the rich is letting the menials do as much as possible—and pla
“Let me off here,” I ordered while we were still a kilometer from my house. I was too jumpy to be driven around in luxury. I wanted to walk—and think. I had the strong feeling that the police were not going to come up with any answers for this one. They had been out—thought right down the line. But could I do any better?
The homes were luxurious, surrounded by brilliant gardens, the air rich with bird sound. I heard little, saw nothing. Though I was aware when I walked up the path to my home that the front door was slightly open. I had left it closed. Thieves? No way—at least they took care of the ordinary kind of crime on lovely Lussuoso. I was smiling as I banged my way in. James jumped to his feet and we embraced warmly. Or was it Bolivar?