Imperial Earth

Suddenl ,v, Karl seemed to come to a decision. He stopped his uncertain weaving along the narrow catwalk and turned on his heel so abruptly that Duncan drew back involuntarily. Then he realized, with both surprise and relief, that Karl’s hands were outstretched in a gesture of pleading, not of menace.

“Duncan,” he began, in a voice that was now completely changed. “You can help me. What I’m trying to do—P

It was as if the sun had exploded. Duncan threw his hands before his eyes and clenched them tightly against the intolerable glare. He heard a cry from Karl, and a moment later the other bumped into him violently, rebounding at once.

The actinic detonation had lasted only a fraction of a second. Could it have been lightning? But if so, where was the thunder? It should have come almost instantaneously, for a flash as brilliant as this.

Duncan dared to open his eyes, and found that he could see again, though through a veil of pinkish mist. But Karl, it was obvious, could not see at all; he was blundering around blindly, with his hands cupped tightly over his eyes. And still the expected thunder never came…. If Duncan had not been half-paralyzed by shock, he might yet have acted in time. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion, as in a dream. He could not believe that it was real.

He saw Karl’s foot hit the precious notebook, so that it went spi

late. 250 Even then, it might not have mattered; but the years and the rust had done their work. As the treacherous metal parted, it seemed to Duncan that Karl cried out his name, in the last second of his life. But of that he would never be sure.

THE LISTENERS

“You’re under no legal compulsion,” Ambassador Farrell had explained. “If you wish, I could claim diplomatic immunity for you. But it would be unwise, and might lead to various-ah-difficulties. In any case, this inquiry is in the mutual interest of all concerned. We want to find out what’s happened, just as much as they do.”

“And who are they?”

“Even if I knew, I couldn’t tell you. Let’s say Terran Security.”

“You still have that kind of nonsense here? I thought spies and secret agents went out a couple of hundred years ago.”

“Bureaucracies are self-perpetuating-you should know that. But civilization will always have its discontents, to use a phrase I came across somewhere.

Though the police handles most matters, as they do on Titan, there are cases which require-special treatment. By the way, I’ve been asked to make it clear that anything you care to say will be privileged and won’t be published without your consent. And if you wish, I will come along with you for moral support and guidance.”

Even now, Duncan was not quite sure who the Ambassador was representing, but the offer was a reasonable one and he had accepted it. He could see no harm in such a private meeting; some kind of judicial inquiry was obviously needed, but the less publicity, the better.

He had half expected to be taken in a blacked-out car on a long, tortuous drive to some vast underground complex in the depths of Virginia or Maryland. It was a little disappointing to end up in a small room at the old

State Department Building, talking to an Assistant Under Secretary with the improbable name of John Smith; later checking on Duncan’s part disclosed that this actually was his name. However, it soon became clear that there was much more to this room than the plain desk and three comfortable chairs that met the eye.

Duncan’s suspicions about the large mirror that covered most of one wall were quickly confirmed. His host—or interrogator, if one wanted to be melodramatic-saw the direction of his glance and gave him a candid smile.

“With your permission, Mr. Makenzie, we’d like to record this meeting. And there are several other participants watching; they may join in from time to time. If you don’t mind, I’ll refrain from introducing them

Duncan nodded politely toward the mirror.

“I’ve no objection to recording,” he said. “Do you mind if I also use my

Minisec?”

There was a painful silence, broken only by an ambassadorial chuckle. Then

Mr. Smith answered: “We would prefer to supply you with a transcript. I can promise that it will be quite accurate.”

Duncan did not press the point. Presumably, it might cause embarrassment if some of the voices involved were recognized by outsiders. In any case, a transcript would be perfectly acceptable; he could trust his memory to spot errors or deletions.

“Well, that’s fine,” said Mr. Smith, obviously relieved. “Let’s get started.”

Simultaneously, something odd happened to the room. Its acoustics changed abruptly; it was as if it had suddenly become much larger. There was not the slightest visible alteration, but Duncan had the unca

know if they were actually in Washington or on the far side of the Earth, and it gave him an uncomfortable, naked sensation to be surrounded by invisible listeners-and watchers.

A moment later, a voice spoke quietly from the air immediately in front of him.

“Good morning, Mr. Makenzie. It’s good of you to spare us your time, and please excuse our reticence. If you think this is some kind of twentieth-century spy melodrama, our apologies. Ninety-nine times out of a hundred, these precautions are totally u

It was a friendly, powerful voice, very deep and resonant, yet there was something slightly u

That was too easy an assumption; in any case, there was no way of distinguishing between computer vocalization and human speech-especially now that a realistic number of “ers,” “wells,” incomplete sentences, and downright grammatical errors could be incorporated to make the nonelectronic participants in a conversation feel at ease. He guessed that he was listening to a, man talking through a speech-disguising circuit.

While Duncan was still trying to decide if any answer was necessary, another speaker took over. This time, the voice emerged about half a meter from his left ear.

“It’s only fair to reassure you on one point, Mr. Makenzie. As far as we can ascertain, no Terran laws have been broken. We are not here to investigate a _crime—only to solve a mystery, to explain a tragedy. If any

Titanian regulations are involved, that is your problem-not ours. I hope you understand. ““Yes Duncan replied. “I assumed that was the case, but I’m glad to have your confirmation.”

This was indeed a relief, but he knew better than to relax. Perhaps this statement was exactly what it seemed to be-a friendly plea for cooperation. But it might also be a trap.

Now a woman’s voice came from immediately be hind him, and he had to resist the impulse to swing around and look at the speaker. Was this

quite u

“To save us all time, let me explain that we have a complete summary of Mr.

Helmer’s background.” And mine, thought Duncan. “Your government has been most helpful, but you may have information which is unknown to us, since you were one of his closest friends.”

Duncan nodded, without bothering to speak. They would know all about that friendship, and its ending.

As if responding to some hidden signal, Mr. Smith opened his briefcase and carefully laid a small object on the table.

“You’ll recognize this, of course,” the female voice continued. “The Helmer family has asked that it be handed over to you for safe custody, with the other property of the deceased.”