front of the table, he leaned back against it, looking directly at the d’Alemberts. “It turns
out,” he said, “that the Bjendens decided to take a short vacation just before closing the
deal. Being very wealthy, they decided to go off-planet and, never having been there
before, they decided to visit Vesa. They left a clear trail that far; any number of people
saw them on the spaceliner to Vesa, and there is a record of their having checked into a
hotel there. But from that point on, nothing is clear. Suddenly there is no further record of
them at their hotel, or at any other. Their return trip tickets were cashed in, and there is
no record of them buying new ones. All of a sudden, Vesa just swallowed them up,
without a trace. That was all our man on Lindstrom could determine from where he was,
so he referred the case-with a Class Four Priority-to the SOTS branch on Chandakha.
“Chandakha?” Jules interrupted. “Where’s that? I thought I’d heard of most of the
planets, but that sounds like a new one.
“It’s interesting how these things work out,” the Head said, smiling at Jules’ confusion.
“Everybody knows that Vesa is a moon, but it’s become so famous that it has figuratively
eclipsed the planet it circles. Chandakha is a planet slightly larger than Earth itself. It was
settled some three hundred years ago mostly by people of Asian stock -particularly
those from the Indian subcontinent. Chandakha has always been a relatively poor world;
the people can raise enough food to feed themselves, but they’ve had little commerce
with the rest of the Galaxy. Vesa is their big drawing card, and it gets all the attention.
“At any rate, our SOTE chief on Chandakha, Marask Kantana by name, received the
report from Lindstrom and, since it had a high priority, she got right to work on it.
Because Chandakha has always been such a quiet world she had a very small staff, but
she did what she could. She checked all the standard places, and came up with the
same answers as the Lindstrom chief-namely that the Bjendens had simply vanished. The
local Vesan police more or less shrugged their shoulders and told her there was nothing
they could do-with so many transients coming and going all the time, it was impossible
for them to account for any particular ones. They were very polite, but their total lack of
cooperation infuriated Kantana and, shrewd woman that she is, she decided to look into
matters a little further.
“What she found simply astonished her. She double-check, cross-checked, practically
wove herself into a plaid with all her checking. When she was positive her facts were
irrefutable, she sent them back here to Earth -this time with a Class Eight Priority.
Jules and Yvette cast each other startled glances. A Class Eight Priority was
nothing short of a planet-wide catastrophe. Suddenly this case had taken on much more
dire dimensions than just the disappearance of a banker and his wife.
Reaching down onto the surface of the console, the Head picked up three book reels.
“These are her findings,” he said. “They came straight to Helena on arrival, and she
brought them instantly to my attention. I’ll give them to you before you leave; they’ll
probably shock you as much as they did us. There are a few more reels, also, because
we correlated some data of our own. The total picture is frightening.
He went back and sat down behind the console, never taking his eyes from the
d’Alemberts’ faces. “The disappearance of the Bjendens was no isolated phenomenon.
Over the past twenty years more than two hundred and fifty thousand people have
vanished on Vesa without a trace!.
Jules sat bolt upright and Yvette’s eyes widened in disbelief. “What?” the female agent
exclaimed. “That’s impossible!.
“I don’t believe it,” Jules said, echoing his sister’s sentiments. “chat many people can’t
simply disappear.” “Nobody said it was `simple’,” Helena spoke up from behind her
father. “In fact, we suspect it’s awfully complex-a full-fledged conspiracy.
“There’s no other explanation,” the Head agreed. “It’s so unexpected that no one ever
looked for it before. But a simple check of spaceliner reservations tells a good deal of
the story. Over the last two decades a certain number of tourists have come to Vesa and
a certain number have left. The first number is quite larger than the second.” “Maybe
they stayed on Vesa,” Yvette suggested.
“Unfortunately the answer is not that simple,” said the master tactician, shaking his head.
“The population of that moon is well accounted for. We have records on births, deaths,
immigrations and emigrations for that entire timespan, and they entirely explain the
present population level.
“But why wasn’t this noticed earlier?” Jules asked. “Didn’t the spaceship companies think
anything was odd when so many people canceled their return reservations?.
“Apparently not. The customer is always right, and it’s not polite to pry into his reasons
for canceling. Perhaps he’s decided to stay longer, perhaps he’s decided to book
passage with another company. Remember, this was happening gradually, and the effect
was spread out over all sixty-two companies that run ships to Vesa. They just never
compared notes among themselves. It wasn’t until we compared all their records
together that we noticed the discrepancy.
Yvette found herself shaking her head. “But how can such a huge number of people just
disappear without an alarm being raised? Some of them must have had family and
friends who would miss them. Why weren’t the police notified?.
“Ah , but they were. Our Central Computer Facility has the records of every police
department on every planet, and we cross-checked their missing persons files. They’re
simply bulging with cases of people who went off to visit Vesa and never returned home.
“But if that’s the case. . . .” Jules began.
“I know; it looks like incompetence on someone’s part not to have spotted the pattern
long ago. But really, what reason was there to cross-check before? Look at it this way:
there are at present one thousand, three hundred and forty-three planets in the Empire.
If we assume randomness, that equal numbers of people from each planet disappeared
on Vesa, that leaves us with an average of two hundred people per planet. Now average
that over twenty years, and you find that only ten people per planet per year are
disappearing there. Not an extraordinary number at all. The ordinary planetary police
force handles thousands of missing person calls in a year. I assume that, when they
trace a missing person to Vesa, they put in a routine call to the police there for
assistance. The Vesan police give them the same polite brush-off they gave Kantana.
The planetary police have neither the time nor the resources to follow up on these cases,
so they mark them unsolved and stick them away. Ten unsolved cases per year is a drop
in the bucket compared to the volume they’re used to handling.
Yvette and Jules sat in stunned silence as they contemplated what the Head had told
them. A quarter of a million people had gone to Vesa and vanished. Furthermore, they
were disappearing at a rate of better than twelve thousand a year-or thirty-five a day!
What could be happening to them all.
“You’re implying,” Jules said slowly, “that the Vesan police are in on whatever conspiracy
is occurring there.” The Head folded his hands on the table in front of him. “There’s
simply not enough information to say. It’s extremely likely that they know something.
After all, no matter how many tourists they say they get-and I will concede it’s an awfully
large number-it’s hard to imagine them not noticing something of this magnitude. But it’s
rather obvious that they’re choosing to ignore it.
“And if they’re doing that,” Yvette mused aloud, “then they must be taking orders from
someone. The most likely suspect is the person in charge. Let’s see, Vesa is a moon, so
it would have to be a marquis-correct?.
“A marchioness, in this case,” the Head nodded. “Marchioness Gindri Lohlatt, a spineless
sort at best. Our personality profile shows her to be incapable of any sustained
conspiracy like this; she’s simply too weak-willed. She may be someone else’s tool, but
it’s doubtful she’s the brains.
“A duke, then,” Yvette persisted. “The Duke of Chandakha, perhaps?.
“The Duke of Chandakha is thirteen years old,” the Head informed her. “His mother has
served as Regent since he assumed the title two years ago. The former Duke was
assassinated by a disgruntled peasant after a reign of thirty-four undistinguished years.
“In other words,” Jules said, “since this activity on Vesa has continued unabated for
twenty years, it’s probably unconnected to the Dukes of Chandakha.
The Head nodded. “There’s a basic lack of continuity in the two regimes, yet the records
indicate that the disappearances didn’t even slow down at the Duke’s death.
“Then the answer is definitely on Vesa.” Yvette’s words were more a statement than a