“I see. My name is Kelty. I’m assistant-chief of the Law-Enforcement Department, acting under the planetary computer, which technically is chief. I’m afraid I have some bad news for you gentlemen.”
“Not surprising,” growled Hammell.
Roberts said, “This planet has been nothing but bad news since we got here.”
“Then why not go to another planet?”
“Our gravitor burned out. We had to strip the coils of the tender’s gravitor, to make emergency repairs. Then, to come down here, we had to scavenge from the main gravitor, to get the tender to work.”
“Where did you land?”
“We didn’t land. We crashed about ten miles inside a forest belt, between a couple of wide tracts of cleared land. The spaceport was about forty miles to the east of where we crashed.”
“Then,” said Kelty, watching Roberts alertly, “you were well inside the killer forest. I’m surprised you got through alive.”
“Yes,” said Roberts, “we’re a little surprised, ourselves. We’d scarcely started to set foot outside the tender when a thing like an oversize gray tiger jumped us. We fought that off with guns from the emergency kit. Our communications officer got in contact with your city here—we hadn’t been able to raise it while we were in orbit—and while I was trying to arrange for help, another of these overgrown tigers showed up. Meanwhile, it turned out that I was talking to a mechanical answering device of some kind, so I gave that up. We fought off this second animal, the sun set, and something started taking cracks at the far side of the tender. This thing forced its way into the tender’s cargo compartment. We managed to get in touch with someone else on the communicator, but before we could make our position clear, the tender got heaved around, and the communicator was smashed.”
Roberts shook his head. “The next morning, Hammell and I started through the forest, got into some kind of a thicket that folded big clinging leaves around us like wet sheets, and while we were fighting clear of this, a pile of insects came pouring through the trees, tumbling over each other, and spreading out to eat everything in sight. We managed to get out of their way, and saw that when the horde passed, all the insects left behind jumped and flew after it to catch up and pour forward again. They were traveling southeast, which suited us, so we walked along close behind, and believe me, nothing bothered us. When they hit the cleared ground, they changed direction, and we got out of the forest and hiked the rest of the way in the open.”
Kelty was listening intently. His look of suspicion had disappeared, and now he smiled. “You used your heads. Such good sense deserves success; but I’m sorry to have to tell you, we have no way to go after those men, and the repair facility you’re looking for is no longer here.”
Roberts looked at him blankly.
Kelty said, “You’ve apparently assumed that the population of this planet grew up from a beginning with a few tough settlers to its present size. In that case, if there was cause for a repair facility in the first place, it wouldn’t disappear overnight. But it isn’t so. The city was designed and built as a man-made paradise, through the beneficence of a tax-free foundation. The foundation was under legislative investigation. To get out from under, an accumulated surplus balance of several trillions had to be unloaded quickly, and it had to be done somehow for the demonstrable benefit of mankind. A planetary-utopia project was dug out of the files, and right here is the final result. This city was built, and staffed by highly-trained technicians, with a computer in overall control, then the foundation opened a campaign on half-a-dozen overpopulated worlds, gathered from their slums millions of ‘socially-disadvantaged individuals’ and used the last of its excess money shipping them here. That is how this planet was settled.”
Roberts grappled with the mental picture this created.
* * *
Hammell said, “Where did a repair facility ever fit in?”
“It looked nice in the plans, and it did a good job when the populace was coming in here. After that, there wasn’t much use for it. When a mob looted and burned it, the computer had what still remained reprocessed to fill more urgent needs. There’s nothing left now but a plot of ground where the facility used to be.”
Hammell shook his head and glanced at Roberts.
Roberts finally said, “There’s no way to get the repairs done here?”
“Not without the equipment and the technicians. The equipment was looted. About that time, the technicians saw the way things were sliding, and made recommendations, which the computer, in compliance with its built-in directives, rejected. The technicians got fed up. One fine morning, they pulled out, leaving the computer programmed to neither produce nor maintain air-travel mechanisms. The technicians went to the far side of the killer forest, and set up independent farming communities over there. This planet being what it is, they’re evidently having plenty of trouble, but they prefer it to the city. We can’t reach them to bring them back. We have no air transport. And the computer couldn’t be programmed to restore the repair facility except by these technicians.”
Roberts said, “Could the technicians be persuaded to come back temporarily, just to program the computer?”
Kelty’s eyes glinted. “If so, they’ll never get away again. They broke their contract. Now the whole roboid police force is on the lookout for them. Naturally, I will obey the orders of the planetary computer, and seize them the instant they show up.” Kelty saw Roberts’ expression, and smiled. “Don’t worry, Roberts. They know this. No, you could never possibly persuade them to come back here. We’ve tried to hire people to take their place, but without success. Who wants to spend his time struggling with the frustrations of a gigantic slum-city? Everything you do here fails. Put up a light bulb, and someone will smash it. Install a water pipe in the afternoon, and it will be ripped out by next morning. Bare maintenance is all the computer and its mechanisms can manage. For most specialists, the work is solid frustration. My job is a little different. It’s quite a challenge to use limited force in such a way that a measure of order is maintained. But I do it, and I aim to continue to do it.”
Roberts thought it over. “I can see what you’re up against. But unless we can get the computer and the technicians together, how can we get the ship—or even the ship’s tender—repaired?”
Kelty shook his head. “In the present setup, it’s impossible. The computer can’t divert the effort to rebuild the repair facility, because of the widespread disorder and destructiveness of the populace.”
“I can’t leave my ship in orbit,” said Roberts, “and the men trapped on board, helpless.”
“But, you see, unless some order can be brought out of this chaos, we have no choice in the matter. And to do that would take a change in the attitude of the populace. There’s only one other way.”
“What’s that?”
Kelty studied him speculatively. “If you and your men, who have considerable technical background, will first consent to devote your time and training exclusively to work for the City, from now on, then we might be able to work something out.” He straightened up, and then stepped back. “Then, you see, it might be worth the computer’s while to rebuild the repair facility.”
Roberts stared at him.
Kelty smiled. “Meanwhile, since you’re citizens, you have guaranteed rent-free cost-free housing. If you should decide to join us, your work would naturally require that you live in close proximity to the Planetary Control Center. Until you do, it would, of course, be unfair to discriminate against the other citizens by giving you special attention. Since we’ve found you innocent, you will now be released. You’ll be given a routing ticket on the way out, to take you to your quarters. You’ll find them airy, with an exceptional view.”
Kelty turned, gestured, and a roboid-jailer wheeled with a hiss of tires down the corridor.
Kelty gave them a final smiling glance. “Think over what I’ve said, Roberts. If you decide to join us, let me know.”
* * *
That evening found Roberts and Hammell in a five-room apartment on the sixth floor of a ten-story building. The building had emergency staircases littered with cans, broken bottles, garbage, and large rats, which disputed the passage with them on the way up. The gravitor-drop had a chain across the entrance, bearing a dented “NO POWER” sign. There was not a whole piece of glass to be seen in the building. The empty window frames looked out over a park, where dead half-grown trees had four-letter words carved in their bark, and the spindly grass sprouted amidst heaps of rotting garbage.