To Roberts’ right, Hammell started, like one whose attention has wandered.
“Your Grace?” He glanced from Roberts to Glinderen, and there was a click as he gripped his sword.
“Not yet,” said Roberts. “It was only a thought.”
“Your Grace has but to give the word—”
“I know, but it is not yet given.” Roberts glanced at the redbearded technician. “As we talk here, has Glinderen some hidden device to record our actions?”
“Not Glinderen, but that pair on the floor are wired from head to foot.”
“We may wish to speak privately later. Let us take care of this now.”
The technician called in some guards, who carried the bodies outside.
Roberts, considering what to do next, now heard a perfect reproduction of his voice say calmly, “This business is about complete. The authority of Glinderen here is at an end. The laws he has enacted exist now on the sufferance of you, my barons, who may do as you wish to right the damage as quickly as possible. I like not what I have heard here. This fellow Glinderen could not doubt Oggbad if Oggbad had acted full-force against him. Has Oggbad been quiet of late?”
Kelty nodded. “No attempt to break through since Glinderen has been here.”
Roberts settled back to let the armor do the work—whereupon the armor quit talking.
Roberts said, “By holding back, Oggbad recuperates his strength, convinces Glinderen the tales of his prowess are naught but wild imaginings, and allows Glinderen free reign to turn our arrangements into chaos at no cost to Oggbad. The next move may be an attack by Oggbad in full strength. Are we prepared?”
Kelty said, “If the Baron of the Outer City will take over control of his territory, I can put back in line all the roboids we’ve pulled in to keep order.”
The Baron nodded. “O.K. Provided you deliver to me that lot of special prisoners, and let go everybody jailed under the no-defense law.”
“Done,” said Kelty. He glanced at Roberts. “We’ll have a far stronger setup than we had when Oggbad made that first big attack. I doubt that a similar attack would get by the walls, except for some coming in by air.”
“Unfortunately,” said Roberts, “Oggbad is not likely to attack the same way a second time. What if he ravages the crops?”
Kelty hesitated. “We have gas generators, an airborne corps of the defense force, and a few very fast gas-laying vehicles. We’d have more but our production program was cut back by Glinderen.”
Roberts turned to the redbearded technician.
“How is your production of special devices?”
“Derailed. We’re back on the old maintenance routine. Somebody in KQL block smashes a light bulb, so we put in another one, and he smashes that, and so on, until everyone who feels like smashing a light bulb gets bored, and they decide to let us put one there. It’s PDA order that all kinds of stuff must be maintained. Well, you can see what level we’re operating on.”
Kelty said, “But the best of it is that whoever gets caught gets his picture and an account of his exploits in the Paradise Star. Some PDA administrator claims this ‘gives the offender a sense of identity and beingness.’ The lack of that was supposed to be the cause of the trouble, so this is to cure it.” Kelty glanced at the technician. “Did you bring that—”
The redbearded giant smiled ironically, and handed over a folded glossy sheet, which Kelty opened out and turned around. “Yes, here we are. We wanted you to see this.” He handed the sheet to Roberts.
Roberts flattened the sheet on the table. It was nicely printed, with the words “Paradise Star” in large flowing letters at the top, over the picture of a small angel carrying a harp and flying toward a stylized star. Under this was a banner headline:
DULGER SLAYS SIXTEEN!
LRP Block. Citizen Surl Dulger today killed sixteen women and children using as weapon a knife he made from a New Venusian wine bottle that he stole himself.
Asked if he did not feel sorry for the victims, Surl Dulger said, “They had it coming.” When officers asked what they had done to have it coming, Dulger replied: “Grermer only got fifteen. This is a record, right? I got the record?”
Officers assured him that indeed he had.
This is a new homicidal record for LRP block. Surl Dulger, the new record holder, was born in a neat white room in the Heavenly Bliss Hospital just seventeen short years ago. Strange to say, seventeen is just one more than the number of women and children Dulger slew this morning.
Whether he . . .
* * *
Roberts looked up. “What manner of joke is this?”
“Oh,” said Kelty, “that’s no joke. That’s news. That paper is turned out by the millions of copies.”
The technician said, “Right this minute, we’ve got between six and seven hundred of these guys undergoing rehabilitation downstairs, and we’ve got sixty more second-guesting after making new records.”
Kelty nodded, “And at the present rate, it won’t be long before they’re coming around the third time. What gets me is that we have to arrest citizens if they try to defend themselves. If you protect yourself, you’re denying the murderer his ‘right to an identity,’ and only a trained psychologist is competent to decide whether this will interfere with the murderer’s later treatment.”
Roberts looked at Glinderen. “This was your idea?”
“No,” said Glinderen. “It was recommended by my Chief of Psychology.”
“But you approved it?”
“I lack the specialized knowledge to evaluate the program. Therefore it received automatic approval.”
“Where’s your Chief of Psychology?”
“Probably in his office. I can—”
“Did you have any doubts about this procedure?”
“Well . . . I asked some questions. I was reassured, however, that this was a valuable therapeutic method.”
The technician nodded. “I happened to be watching that conversation on the surveillance screen. That was before Glinderen ordered us to stop using the surveillance system. What happened was that the psychology chief said this method would ‘create a sense of real importance and meaningful existence’ in the criminal. Glinderen hesitantly asked, ‘What about the victims?’ The psychology chief said, ‘Unfortunately, they are dead, and we can do nothing for them. Our duty is to rehabilitate the living.’ Glinderen nodded, and that was it.”
Hammell growled, “If I might have directions where to find this Chief of Psychology—”
“No,” said Roberts, “that’s too good for him.” Roberts glanced at the fanatical leader of the Outer City. “Baron, have you considered this problem?”
“Yes, but I can’t think of anything slow enough.”
“Hm-m-m,” said Roberts, forgetting he was in armor, and absently putting thumb and forefinger to the faceplate of the suit. “There must be some—”
Glinderen said, “He is a PDA—”
“But,” said Roberts, “if he should volunteer to take up residence in Paradise—in order to give the planet the benefit of his vast experience—”
The Baron of the Outer City nodded agreeably. Kelty smiled. The redbearded giant absently flexed his large muscular hands.
“If he should volunteer,” said Roberts, “then perhaps the best place for his services would be in whatever block has the most vigorous competition for a new homicide record. Possibly he can contribute to ‘a sense of real importance and meaningful existence’ in someone there.”
“Yes,” said the Baron of the Outer City, with a beautiful smile.
Glinderen burst out, “What if he should be killed?”
Roberts said regretfully, “Unfortunately, he would then be dead, and we could do nothing for him. Our duty is to rehabilitate the living.”
Glinderen nodded, blinked, and stared at the wall.
Roberts said, “Then that is taken care of. Gentlemen, these matters must be settled, but the longer we dwell on them, the greater the danger that Oggbad may make some determined move—”
Kelty said suddenly, “If he’s still here. I don’t know why I didn’t think of this. Glinderen’s PDA ships have come down here and taken off again. He could have sneaked away on any of them.”
Everyone looked at Roberts. Once again, the whole structure of his argument threatened to collapse.
Roberts thought fast, then shrugged. “Outspace ships. Yes, he could leave the planet, but what then? Oggbad’s ambition is to seize the throne of the Empire. Luckily, to pass from here to the Empire requires special navigating devices which outspace ships lack, and which Oggbad himself does not understand and cannot build. His own ship, he has lost. Yet, if he escapes, it must be on a ship of the Empire, with such a navigating device installed, unless Oggbad wishes to carve out a new domain in the outspace realms. If so, why, we are well rid of him. I believe he is here.”
Once again, everyone looked convinced. Roberts himself felt convinced. Oggbad and the Empire were taking on such reality that Roberts had to remind himself to do nothing that would commit him to produce proof.