the Empire came first. Certainly he could not show up for work without inviting the same
kind of “accident” that had befallen Rask.
It was equally certain that he would have to leave Vesa. These killers obviously had a
widespread conspiracy that enveloped the whole moon, and they would not take kindly to
being spied upon. They would turn Vesa upside down in their efforts to find him and, with
his distinctive DesPlainian body, he couldn’t disguise himself well enough to ensure
anonymity.
He toyed with the thought of joining forces with Yvette, now that his cover in the lower
part of Vesa’s society was broken. He knew where she was supposed to be staying, and
it would be easy enough to get in touch with her. The thought of working together with
her was a warming one; they had always been very close, and they worked at their best
as a team when they could bounce ideas off one another. And with the killers now
looking for him so avidly, the two of them could set a trap and catch some of them. A
quick shot of nitrobarb would then help them track down the rest of the mob.
But after some thought he vetoed that idea. Yvette was in the middle of her own
investigation; she had her own goals and her own cover identity. It would not be fair of
him to interrupt her work just because he’d messed up his own assignment. They had
agreed to try a twopronged attack on the problem in the hopes of solving it that much
faster. It still was a sound strategy, if he worked it right.
Besides, he had learned something crucial in the warehouse. Every single one of the
murderers assembled there had been a Chandakhar male. Some of them were rather
old, and a few, like Radapur, were quite young. Obviously there was some way killers
were recruited into this conspiracy, and just as obviously the recruitment was occurring
down on the surface of Chandakha. Clearing out all the murders on Vesa would do no
good if the factory for producing more of them was left untouched. Chandakha, then,
would have to be his next stop. But he would need some help.
He went to the spaceport, got his things from the locker and checked into a nearby hotel.
The instant he was alone be activated his room’s vidphone and placed an intrasystem call
down to a very private number on Chandakha.
After a minute the connection was made, and the screen lit up with the face of a very
attractive lady. She also appeared to be a native of Cbandakha; she had a dark
complexion, brown eyes and long black hair that had just the slightest tipping of gray to
it. There were a few lines of responsibility and worry to her face, but they enhanced
rather than subtracted from her beauty. Her age could be anywhere from thirty-five to
sixty, it was impossible to tell. This would be Marask Kantana, the Service’s chief for
Chandakha and Vesa.
“Who’s there?” she asked peering into her screen, for Jules had kept the video part of
his transmission turned off. “What do you want?”
Jules said only one word: “Wombat.
The effect of that word on Kantana was startling. She had been given prior warning that
agents Wombat and Periwinkle would be conducting investigations in her area, and that
she was to give them all the assistance they required. Even had she not been told in
advance, however, the effect would have been the same; those two code names were
legendary in the Service, and commanded instant obedience. From a proud woman used
to issuing orders, Kantana’s visage shifted to one of complete subservience. “What can I
do for you?” she asked.
“I’m on Vesa at the moment and I need to get down to Chandakha without being seen.
The spaceport will be watched. What do you suggest?.
“There’s my private ship,” Kantana replied without hesitation. “I could fly up to Vesa for
the day, and you could come back packed in my trunk-at least until we got you inside the
ship.
“Smooth.” Jules decided instantly that he liked this woman. She thought quickly, and had
a no-nonsense approach to her job. No wonder the Head spoke so highly of her, he
thought.
They arranged the details of the pickup in code, though Jules strongly doubted whether
the murderers had the capacity to intercept or interpret this call. They had shown no
previous inclination to get involved on a political level, preferring to commit their crimes in
as quiet and businesslike a manner as possible. Then, when the call was over, Jules
leaned back on his bed to rest and think.
Six hours later, Gospozha Kantana’s personal spacecraft docked on Vesa. She took her
luggage, which consisted of a small briefcase and a large trunk, to a hotel room that was
customarily set aside for her periodic trips to the moon. She left her things in the room
and went out for a couple of hours’ recreation at the casino.
When she returned to her room, Jules was waiting for her. She gave him a polite nod of
the head and sat down in a chair in one corner of the room. It would be up to Jules to
speak first.
“I’ve been going over these,” he began. holding up a couple of spools of tape. He had
requested that she bring up what files the Service had on the seven Chandakhari he had
worked with. “I think I’ve discovered a common pattern to them, and I’d like your advice
on the matter.
“My office is at your complete disposal, as you know.” Jules shifted his weight on the
bed where he sat. “Each of these men had a criminal record before coming to Vesa.
Each came from a large family, of which he was either the sole or principal support-even
Radapur, who was only about twenty Earth years old.
“None of those facts is at all unusual on Chandakha,” Kantana said matter-of-factly. “It is
not a pleasant place to live. It’s a tropical world, and only one of its five continents is
habitable by humans; the rest are hellholes and breeding grounds for insects and
plagues. Even the one continent where we can live is ravaged periodically by rainstorms,
droughts, floods and insect swarms.
“Whichever bureaucrat came up with the idea of colonizing Chandakha decided that it
could best be done by using people who were already accustomed to these problems.
As a result, most of the colonists-my ancestors included-were recruited from the Indian
subcontinent of Earth and transplanted here. Some of our customs were brought over,
some were dropped and new ones were created. The caste system, which lingered on in
India even after it was officially abolished, is almost nonexistent here, though you still find
traces every so often. But one problem that took root here was overpopulation, which we
nearly had licked by the twenty-second century. We have it worse now than it’s ever
been.
“It’s not uncommon for a married couple here to have twenty or twenty-five children
during their lifetime. With modern medicine; most of those survive. At first, there was
plenty of land to go around, but we’ve been here three centuries now. Family parcels are
being whittled down, until now the average family is hard-pressed to support itself.
“Many people, fed up with farm life, move into the cities. But it’s even worse there. We
have little heavy industry, since all the resorces of this continent are used to feed
ourselves, and the other continents can’t be mined. Jobs are scarce, but people have to
live. Crime is the one profession they can turn to. It’s been estimated that at least one
person in ten on Chandakha makes most of his living by illegal means. In the cities, that
ratio can be as high as four in ten.
Jules was flabbergasted by this revelation. “But who do they steal from?.
“The honest people. Each other. Anyone and everyone.” Though Kantana’s voice was
even, the look behind her eyes showed her true feelings. This was a sympathetic woman
who had long borne the burden of these people’s problems even though, in her exalted
position as chief of the local SOTE office, she could have ignored them.
Jules was shaking his head. “I find it hard to believe that conditions like these could exist
in the Empire today. The Emperor can’t condone these things.” He remembered his one
meeting with His Imperial Majesty Stanley Ten-an old man, yes, but sharp-witted and
deeply caring for the people be ruled.
Kantana’s voice was without bitterness. “The Emperor is very busy and very far away.
Chandakha is very peaceful, no threat to him or the Empire. When a man rules over
thirteen hundred planets he has to govern by crisis; the quiet problems get overlooked.
Besides, the problem has only really begun to emerge in the last fifty years; we’ve had a