The Computer Connection

“I’m much obliged and grateful for the support,” I said, “but I’m much perplexed. I never sent any messages.”

The two pros brushed me off. “What’s the bust?” Jimmy asked Harry.

“A vibrator shield. I’ve never seen one like it before.”

“Linear? Lattice? Louvre?”

“No. Moiré.”

“Uh-huh. That’s the new Mosler Model K-12-FK. Only been out a few months.”

“Can you rip it?”

“Sure. You have to monkey with inductance and wattage. Takes about twenty minutes. I’ve got my tools with me and I’ll show you.”

“How can you be so positive?” I asked.

Valentine was pained. “You’ll never make a thief, Guig. I bought a Moiré the first day it came on the market and spent a week locating its weak points. Now I’m on a bust tour staying ahead of Mosler’s frantic try to crunch-proof the model. That’s what I was doing in Vancouver.”

There’s preparation for you. There’s a pro for you. But who sent the messages to the Group gimpsters? Don’t tell me. I knew but I wasn’t ready to face it yet.

A complete stranger wearing a lab coat projected into the house without warning. Very bad ma

“Who you?”

“Union Carbide.”

“Esplain you bug.”

“Estro maquina, man. Go crazy like.”

“Jus’ now?”

“N. Jive now. But d’yeth hours back, craz-eee. We lookin’ ever since for Guess-cat. Ax him what happen. Maybe pasar again? Can fix?”

“Poder fix. Not now. I tell ‘m. Wait you. Out.”

He pulled himself up from the floor and out by retro.

Poulos said matter-of-factly, “Dr. Guess had his seizure ten hours ago.”

“How much do you know, Greek?”

“Everything the young lady whispered to you. I have sharp ears.”

“Then Guess affects the Extro as much as it affects him.”

“You have reached the correct conclusion.”

“The Extro sent the messages to Harry and Valentine.”

“To be sure. Via the electronic network.”

“Are we being overheard now?”

“Probably. Perhaps words and thoughts, both.”

“We’re bugged.”

“In a novel way, yes, so long as Dr. Guess is conscious and in possession of his senses. However, he is not the only one assisting the computer.”

“What?”

“The Group has a vendetta on its hands: a private war.”

“For God’s sake, Poulos. Who? What? Why?”

“I don’t know. I surmise that it is another member of the Group.”

“The hell you say.”

“But I do say. A renegade Moleman.”

“Impossible!”

“Nothing is impossible.”

“A Moleman turning on his own kind?”

“He or she. Yes. Why are you astonished? The Group has feuds and revenges of record. This is merely another such case.”

“What led you to your conclusion?”

“The faux messages to Houdini and Valentine.”

“They were sent by the Extro.”

“True, but how did it know of their existence and capacities? How did it know where to reach them?”

“It could have — It — No, you’re right. Then the Chief must have told it.”

“Using what for data? He has been a member of the Group less than a week. He has met or heard of half a dozen at the most; certainly not Houdini and Valentine. He could not possibly have the knowledge to impart to the Extro.”

“My God! My God! I think you’re right. You must be. One of our own. But why say he’s against us?”

“Because he has joined the Extro which is a proven hostile.”

“Dear God! A renegade.”

“And a most powerful enemy of many years and much experience. He or she is a match for any of us.”

“You have no idea of who it might be?”

“None whatever.”

“His motivation?”

“Hatred, for some reason or other.”

“For all of us or just some?”

“Impossible to say.”

“How does he communicate with the Extro?”

“Nothing could be simpler. Pick up the nearest phone of any sort and speak into it. The network will convey the message to the Extro, provided the switchboard is conscious.”

“This could be a disaster for the Group, Poulos. I’m on the verge of scuttling.”

“But why, Guig? It is a monumental challenge of much fascination, the first for us in many years.”

“Granted, but where does it leave us?”

“En route to Ceres. Not scuttling, merely ensuring the safety of Guess and his capsule. Then we’ll return to the fight.”

Harry and Jimmy weren’t even listening. They were involved in an intense professional conversation using words like watts, amperes, megahertz, frequency, inductance. In my past crooks talked nitroglycerine and diamond drills. Progress. They broke off when Poulos and I finished and looked at us.

“When?” Jimmy asked softly.

“When the redskin is ready. He’s the one you’ve got to get in.”

“It might be better to wait until the power demand is at the low.”

“N way,” Harry said. “JPL has its own supply, always at the peak.”

“Then now is as good as any time. I’d like to move on to Tokyo soon.”

“I’ll go see how the Chief is doing,” I said.

He was doing fine with Fee hovering over him while he seemed to be berating Natoma in Cherokee for abandoning the high morality of Eriedom. Natoma was laughing. “He man showven pig,” she told me in XX. M’bantu had taught her a lot while he was helping her turn into the latest shout.

“The Group is waiting to crunch you into the capsule,” I said. “Are you ready?”

“Y.” He got out of the bed. “So I’ve converted you.”

“Hell no! I don’t believe in your doublegaited salvation, but the Group tries to stick together.”

“You remind me of Voltaire, Guig. ‘I hate everything you say but will fight to the death for your right to say it.’”

“Which Voltaire never said, according to Tosca. Come downstairs.”

He listened for a moment and I knew who he was listening to. “R as usual, Guig; only attributed to Voltaire and I haven’t quoted it accurately. Coming.”

There were five Abominable Snowman neutrals waiting in the chopper. Two for Harry and Jimmy and two for the Chief and Fee. The fifth? They all looked at me.

“Not me,” I said. “I want to tepee with my blue wife.”

“Come on, Guig.”

“Why me?”

“You recruited Guess. You’ve got to see it through.”

“Through to what? I don’t even know where this demented op is going. Natoma, tepee?”

“Take care brother, Glig,” Natoma said. “You go. I wait.”

So I go, just as M’bantu brought in Borgia a mite too late. Apologies and split. While we were squirming into our neutrals in the chopper I asked Erie’s favorite son, “What’s your program?”

“Vague and desperate, but anything to get away from U-Con. Loft by kinorep and then use the laterals to get off the premises. I only hope there’s enough gas left.”

“You’ve got full tanks. The tech crynappers filled them for their dastardly crime.”

“That’s a plus, but it’s the only one. I’m in a hell of a pickle. Can I steal a rocket vehicle? I’ve never heard of anyone trying that.”

“The larceny might make your lam easier.”

“If I can, where do I go? The orbiting cyclotron? Ceres and I.G. Farben? The Greek’s mine? I don’t know yet. It’ll take working out, and anyway I’m waiting on Edison’s analysis. Probably it’ll have to be a parking orbit, if I can heist a vehicle.”

“Will the Extrocomputer go along with this?”

He gave me a penetrating look. “What makes you ask that?”

“I know. I got the scenario from Fee-5.”

“She hears too much,” he snapped and cased himself in the neutral.

Harry led us into JPL, again giving all the correct signs and countersigns. “V bad security,” he said. “The code should change every four hours.” At the double doors to the landing theater we stopped and Jimmy Valentine took over. He inspected the moiré pattern shield carefully. Then he got out of the neutral and opened his coverall, displaying more tools than the Chief carried. “Twenty minutes max,” he said. “Stiff all snoops.”