Chapter 18
Dawn was just touching the sky when I brought the assassin’s body in to the Count. I was deprived of the pleasure of waking him since the sergeant of the guard had already done this when the roof sentry had been discovered. The guard was dead too, from a tiny puncture of the same poison-tipped blade. The guardsmen and the Count were all gathered around the body on the floor of the Count’s sitting room and chattering away about this mystery, the inexplicable death of the sentry. They didn’t see me until I dropped my corpse down by the other one, and they all jumped back. “Here’s the killer,” I told them, not without a certain amount of pride. Count Cassitor must have recognized the thug because he gave a shuddering start and popped his eyes. No doubt an ex-relative, brother-in-law or something. I imagined he hadn’t believed that the Radebrechen family would really go through with their threats of revenge. A certain uneasiness about the guard sergeant gave me my first cue that I was imagining wrong. The sergeant glanced back and forth from the corpse to the Count and I wondered what thoughts were going through his shaven and thick-skulled military head. There were wheels within wheels here and I would like to have known what was going on. I made a mental note to have a buddy-to-buddy talk with sarge at the first opportunity. The Count chewed his cheek and cracked his knuckles over the bodies, and finally ordered them dragged out. “Stay here. Bent,” he said as I started to leave with the others. I dropped into a chair while he locked the rest out. Then he made a rush for the bar and choked down about a waterglass full of the local spirits. Only when he was working on his second glass did he remember to offer me some of this potable aqua regia. I wasn’t saying no, and while I sipped at it I wondered what he was so upset about. First the Count checked the locks on all the doors and sealed the single window. His ring key unlocked the bottom drawer of his desk and he took out a small electronic device with controls and an extendible aerial on top. “Well look at that!” I said when he pulled out the aerial. He didn’t answer me, just shot a long look at me from under his eyebrows, and went back to adjusting the thing. Only when it was turned on and the green light glowed on the top did he relax a bit. “You know what this is?” he asked, pointing at the gadget. “Of course,” I said. “But not from seeing them on Freibur. They aren’t that common.” “They aren’t common at all,” he mumbled, staring at the green light which glowed steadily. “As far as I know this is the only one on the planet–so I wish you wouldn’t mention it to anybody. Anybody,” he repeated with emphasis. “Not my business,” I told him with disarming lack of interest. “I think a man’s entitled to his privacy.” I liked privacy myself and had used snooper-detectors like this one plenty of times. They could sense electronic or radiation snoopers and gave instant warning. There were ways of fooling them, but it wasn’t easy to do. As long as no one knew about the thing the Count could be sure he wasn’t being eavesdropped on. But who would want to do that? He was in the middle of his own building–and even he must know that snooper devices couldn’t be worked from a distance. There was distinct smell of rat in the air, and I was beginning to get an idea of what was going on. The Count didn’t leave me any doubt as to who the rat was. “You’re not a stupid man, Grav Diebstall,” he said, which means he thought I was a lot stupider than he was. “You’ve been offplanet and seen other worlds. You know how backward and suppressed we are here, or you wouldn’t have joined with roc to help throw off the yoke around our planet’s neck. No sacrifice is too great if it will bring closer this day of liberation.” For some reason he was sweating now and had resumed his unpleasant habit of cracking the knuckles. The side of his head–where Angela had landed the bottle–was covered with plasti-skin and dry of sweat. I hoped it hurt. “This foreign woman you have been guarding–” the Count said, turning sideways but still watching me from the corners of his eyes. “She had been of some help in organizing things, but is now putting us in an embarrassing position. There has been one attempt on her life and there will probably be others. The Radebrechen are an old and loyal family–her presence is a continued insult to them.” Then he pulled at his drink and delivered the punch line. “I think that you can do the job she is doing. Just as well, and perhaps better. How would you like that?” Without a doubt I was just brimming over with talent–or there was a shortage of revolutionaries on this planet. This was the second time within twelve hours that I had been offered a partnership in the new order. One thing I was sure of though–Angelovely’s offer had been sincere. Cassi Duke of Rdenrundt’s proposition had a distinctly bad odor to it. I played along to see what he was leading up to. “I am honored, noble Count,” I oozed. “But what will happen to the foreign woman? I don’t imagine she will think much of the idea.” “What she thinks is not important,” he snarled and touched his fingers lightly to the side of his head. He swallowed and got his temper back under control. “We cannot be cruel to her,” he said with one of the most insincere smiles I have ever seen on a human being’s face. “We’ll just hold her in custody. She has some guards who I imagine will be loyal, but my men will take care of them. You will be with her and arrest her at the proper time. Just turn her over to the jailers who will keep her safe. Safe for herself, and out of sight where she can cause no more trouble for us.” “It’s a good plan,” I agreed with winning insincerity. “I don’t enjoy the thought of putting this poor woman in jail, but if it is necessary to the cause it must be done. The ends justify the means.” “You’re right. I only wish I was able to state it so clearly. You have a remarkable ability to turn a phrase. Bent. I’m going to write that down so I can remember it. The ends justify . . .” He scratched away industriously on a note plate. What a knowledge of history he had–just the man to plan a revolution! I searched my memory for a few more old saws to supply him with, until my brain was flooded with a sudden anger. I jumped to my feet. “If we are going to do this we should not waste any time, Count Rdenrundt,” I said. “I suggest 1800 hours tonight for the action. That will give you enough time to arrange for the capture of her guards. I will be in her rooms and will arrest her as soon as I have a message from you that the first move has succeeded.” “You’re correct. A man of action as always. Bent. It will be as you say.” We shook hands then and it took all the will power I possessed to stop from crushing to a pulp his limp, moist, serpentine paw. I went straight to Angelina. “Can we be overheard here?” I asked her. “No, the room is completely shielded.” “Your former boy-friend. Count Cassi, has a snooper-detector. He may have other equipment for listening to what goes on here.” This thought didn’t bother Angelic in the slightest. She sat by the mirror, brushing her hair. The scene was lovely but distracting. There were strong winds blowing through the revolution that threatened to knock everything down. “I know about the detector,” she said calmly, brushing. “I arranged for him to get it–without his knowledge of course–and made sure it was useless on the best frequencies. I keep a close watch on his affairs that way.” “Were you listening in a few minutes ago when he was making arrangements with me to kill your guards and throw you into the dungeons downstairs?” “No, I wasn’t listening,” she said with that amazing self-possession and calm that marked all her actions. She smiled in the mirror at me. “I was busy just remembering last night.” Women! They insist on mixing everything up together. Perhaps they operate-better that way, but it is very hard on those of us who find that keeping emotion and logic separate produces sounder thinking. I had to make her understand the seriousness of this situation. “Well, if that little bit of news doesn’t interest you,” I said as calmly as I could, “perhaps this does. The rough Radebrechens didn’t send that killer last night–the Count did.” Success at last. Angelina actually stopped combing her hair and her eyes widened a bit at the import of what I said. She didn’t ask any stupid questions, but waited for me to finish. “I think you have underestimated the desperation of that rat upstairs. When you droned him with that bottle yesterday, you pushed him just as far as he could be pushed. He must have had his plans already made and you made his mind up for him. The sergeant of the guard recognized the assassin and connected him with the Count. That also explains how the killer got access to the roof and knew just where to find you. It’s also the best explanation I can imagine for the suddenness of this attack. There’s too much coincidence here with the thing happening right after your battle with Cassitor the Cantankerous.” Angelina had gone back to combing her hair while I talked, fluffing up the curls. She made no response. Her apparent lack of interest was beginning to try my nerves. “Well–what are you going to do about it?” I asked, with more than a little note of peevishness in my voice. “Don’t you think it’s more important to ask what you are going to do about it?” She delivered this line very lightly, but there was a lot behind it. I saw she was watching me in the minor, so I turned and went over to the window, looking out over the fatal balcony at the snow-summitted mountain peaks beyond. What was I going to do about it? Of course that was the question here–much bigger than she realized. What was I going to do about the whole thing? Everyone was offering me half-interests in a revolution I hadn’t the slimiest interest in. Or did I? What was I doing here? Had I come to arrest Angelina for the Special Corps? That assignment seemed to have been forgotten a while back. A decision had to be reached soon. My body disguise was good–but not that good. It wasn’t intended to stand up to long inspection. Only the fact that Angelina was undoubtedly sure that she had killed me had prevented her from recognizing my real identity so far. I had certainly recognized her easily enough, facial changes and all. Just at this point the bottom dropped out of everything. There is a little process called selective forgetting whereby we suppress and distort memories we find distasteful. My disguise hadn’t been meant to stand inspection this long. Originally I had been sure she would have penetrated it by now. With this realization came the memory of what I had said the night before. A wickedly revealing statement that I had pushed back and forgotten until now. You’re none of these things out of the past, I had shouted. None of these things . . . Angelina. I had bellowed this and there had been no protest from her. Except that she no longer used the name Angelina, she used the alias Engela here. When I tuned to face her my guilty thoughts must have been scrawled all over my face, but she only gave me that enigmatic smile and said nothing. At least she had stopped combing her hair. “You know I’m not Grav Bent Diebstall,” I said with an effort. “How long have you known?” “For quite a while; since soon after you came here, in fact.” “Do you know who I am–?” “I have no idea what your real name is, if that’s what you mean. But I do remember how angry I was when you tricked me out of the battleships, after all my work. And I recall the intense satisfaction with which I shot you in Freiburbad. Can you tell me your name now?” “Jim,” I said through the haze I was rooted in. “James diGriz, known as Slippery Jim to the trade.” “How nice. My name is really Angela. I think it was done as a horrid joke by my father, which is one of the reasons I enjoyed seeing him die.” “Why haven’t you killed me?” I asked, having a fairly good idea of how father had passed on. “Why should I, darling?” she asked, and her light, empty tone was gone. “We’ve both made mistakes in the past and it has taken us a dreadfully long time to find out that we are just alike. I might as well ask you why you haven’t arrested me–that’s what you started out to do isn’t it?” “It was–but . . .” “But, what? You must have come here with that idea in mind, but you were fighting an awful battle with yourself. That’s why I hid the fact that I knew who you really were. You were growing up, getting over whatever idiotic notions ever involved you with the police in the first place. I had no idea how the whole thing would come out, though I did hope. You see I didn’t want to kill you, not unless I had to. I knew you loved me, that was obvious from the beginning. It was different from the feeble animal passion of all those male brutes who have told me that they love me. They loved a malleable case of flesh. You love me for everything that I am, because we are both the same.” “We are not the same,” I insisted, but there was no conviction in my voice. She only smiled. “You kill–and enjoy killing–that’s our basic difference. Don’t you see that?” “Nonsense!” She dismissed the idea with an airy wave. “You killed last night–rather a good job too–and I didn’t notice any reluctance on your part. In fact, wasn’t there a certain amount of enthusiasm?” I don’t know why, but I felt as if a noose was tightening around my neck. Everything she said was wrong–but I couldn’t see where it was wrong. Where was the way out, the solution that would solve everything? “Let’s leave Freibur,” I said at last. “Get away from this monstrous and unnecessary rebellion. There will be deaths and killing and no need for them.” “We’ll go–if we go someplace where we can do just as well,” Angela said, and there was a hardness back in her voice. “That’s not the major point though. There’s something you are going to have to settle in your own mind before you will be happy. This stupid importance you attach to death. Don’t you realize how completely trivial it is? Two hundred years from now you, I and every person now living in the galaxy will be dead. What does it matter if a few of them are helped along and reach their destination a bit quicker? They’d do the same to you if they had the chance.” “You’re wrong,” I insisted, knowing that there is more to living and dying than just this pessimistic philosophy, but unable in this moment of stress to clarify and speak my ideas. Angela was a powerful drug and my tiny remaining shard of compassionate reserve didn’t stand a chance, washed under by the flood of stronger emotions. I pulled her to me, kissing her, knowing that this solved most of the problems although it made the final solution that much more difficult. A thin and irritating buzz scratched at my ears, and Angela heard it too. Separating was difficult for both of us. I sat and watched unseeingly while she went to the vidiphone. She blanked the video circuits and snapped a query into it. I couldn’t hear the answer because she had the speaker off and listened through the earpiece. Once or twice she said yes, and looked up suddenly at me. There was no indication of whom she was talking to, and I hadn’t the slightest interest. There were problems enough around. After hanging up she just stood quietly for a moment and I waited for her to speak. Instead she walked to her dressing table and opened the drawer. There were a lot of things that could have been concealed there, but she took out the one thing I was least suspecting. A gun. Big barreled and deadly, pointing at me. “Why did you do it, Jim?” she asked, tears in the corners of her eyes. “Why did you want to do it?” She didn’t even hear my baffled answer. Her thoughts were on herself–though the recoilless never wavered from a point aimed midway in my skull. With alarming suddenness she straightened up and angrily brushed at her eyes. “You didn’t do anything,” she said with the old hard chill on her words. “I did it myself because I let myself believe that one man could be any different from the others. You have taught me a valuable lesson, and out of gratitude I will kill you quickly, instead of in the way I would much prefer.” “What the bell are you talking about,” I roared, completely baffled. “Don’t play the innocent to the very aid,” she said, as she reached carefully behind her and drew a small heavy bag from under the bed. “That was the radar post. I installed the equipment myself and have the operators bribed to give me first notice. A ring of ships–as you well know–has dropped from space and surrounded this area. Your job was to keep me occupied so I wouldn’t notice this. The plan came perilously close to succeeding.” She put a coat over her arm and backed across the room. “If I told you I was innocent–gave you my most sincere word of honor–would you believe me?” I asked. “I have nothing to do with this and know nothing about it.” “Hooray for the Boy Space Scout,” Angela said with bitter mockery. “Why don’t you admit the truth, since you will be dead in twenty seconds no matter what you say.” “I’ve told you the truth.” I wondered if I could reach her before she fired, but knew it was impossible. “Good-by, James diGriz. It was nice knowing you–for a while. Let me leave you with a last pleasant thought. All this was in vain. There is a door and an exit behind me that no one knows about. Before your police get here I shall be safely gone. And if the thought tortures you a bit, I intend to go on killing and killing and killing and you will never be able to stop me.” My Angela raised the gun for a surer aim as she touched a switch in the molding. A panel rolled back revealing a square of blackness in the wall. “Spare me the histrionics, Jim,” she said disgustedly, her eyes looking into mine over the sight of the gun. Her finger tightened. ” I wouldn’t expect that kind of juvenile trick from you, staring over my shoulder and widening your eyes as if there were someone behind me. I’m not going to turn and look. You’re not getting out of this one alive.” “Famous last words,” I said as I jumped sideways. The gun boomed but the bullet plowed into the ceiling. Inskipp stood behind her, twisting the gun into the air, pulling it out of her hand. Angela just stared at me in horror and made no move to resist. There were handcuffs locked on her tiny wrists and she still didn’t struggle or cry out. I jumped forward, shouting her name. There were two burly types in Patrol uniforms behind Inskipp, and they took her. Before I could reach the door he stepped through and closed it behind him. I stumbled to a halt before it, as unable to fight as Angela had been a minute ago.