Flight of the Maita
Book ten
"Call Me Tab"
© 1987 & 2012 by C. D. Moulton
Smashwords Edition
© 2012
all rights reserved: no part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright holder/publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Tab writes a casebook about the detective agency
Critic comment
What can I say? It’s a lot of shorts like you’d find in the magazines. The robot detective idea isn’t new, but Moulton has a slant. I did like “The Castle Drove Murders” and “Besides, It Was Fun!”
– PA Rtng: Good, if you like shorts.
Contents
About the author
C. D. Moulton has been everything from a rock musician to a high steelworker, from a junkyard manager to a commercial fisherman. He has traveled over much of the world, both with the music and as an importer/ exporter.
He started writing SciFi and mysteries in 1984, and has written more than 90 books as of this publishing.
CD is “opinionated and obnoxious” politically, in his own words. He is outspoken against “greedy corrupt politicians and those who consider the environment and its destruction in terms of money” and a few other social issues. He is “extreme in my dislike of extremists” in any field.
CD now resides in Bonita Springs, Florida, where he does research with orchids (three of his books are about orchid culture), jams with old friends from the music business, and pursues his favorite occupation: Beach bum.
*Since first publication CD has moved to Bocas del Toro, Panama’
“Call Me Tab”
My name is Tabori R. DeSixtee. I'm a robot detective for the Maitan Empire, designed and built by Emperor Maita, personally. Maita also built my ship, TRD-60, affectionately called TR. It's a part of me and is also my closest friend. We share the memory banks and are always in contact through radio except in those rare instances where it isn't practical to use radio for one reason or another.
Maita is also a machine, though we won't spread that around. It is, in fact, a spaceship. It has a crew of two beings, one Terran called Z and one Mentan called Thing (Z names these beings – or did at first). There are often other temporary members of Maita's crew such as Tranz, a reptilian being and Tom, a Zeenan, but Maita, Z and Thing are the core of their group.
Maita made me and TR to try to discover why organic beings think and act as they do, but we've about given up hope of ever knowing. Maita has a personality, TR has its own and I have mine. That's the way we are.
You may have read one or two of these cases somewhere before. Z started this kind of recording of our experiences to present as entertainment right from the first and talked me into doing the same. I wrote about my first experiences in a book I called TRD-60 Perfect 3. Perfect 3 is a planet orbiting the star Euclich out near Empire Center.
I just went through the files and took out a random little collection of my cases, threw them together in sort of easy chronological order and here they are. I hope you like them and find them entertaining. I know I did!
My name, or designation, is Tabori R. DeSixtee. I am a detective specifically for the Emperor Maita, exalted leader of the Maitan Empire of the This Galaxy. (I call it This Galaxy as there's really no reason to name the galaxy one happens to be in at this time because we've never developed any method to cross the currents of intergalactic space, though the emperor has assured me it can be done.)
My card:
Tabori R. DeSixtee
Private Investigations
Code TRD-60 Perfect 3
"Call me Tab"
Now that the crap is over my "Name" stands for Transitive (Or traveling) Abecedarian Basic-ordered Random Intelligence. The "R" stands for robot and the D-60 is my design production number. The emperor designed and built me personally.
Maita's a machine too, but few know that. It could cause some problems among the organic members of the empire. They claim to have these hangups about being ruled by machines – meanwhile they allow those computers to handle almost every facet of their lives. I see just about everywhere I go that they stop for traffic signals on those planets that have surface travel.
The truth is they already have their lives controlled almost entirely by machines.
You explain their thought processes. I can't, though that IS my real purpose.
You see, Maita has this crew of diverse organic beings and close friends – well, just two at the moment, but there have been various others for varying lengths of time.
Thing is a Mentan and an empath while Z's from some backwater world called Terra. I was there once, and you talk about a really screwed up place.... But that's another subject entirely. Suffice it to say Z's taught us quite a lot. He's shown us that absolute illogic is sometimes the best weapon in one's arsenal.
He also gave us all a sense of humor, which is an emotional response to a ridiculous situation or about the same response to deliberately looking at something from a different perspective than was intended.
This isn't about Z and Thing.
My initials, fastcom code and ship's designation are all TRD-60.
Did I mention my ship (I know I didn't. I'm a machine)? It's really my transportation, a huge memory bank, a laboratory, a factory, a friend and part of me. We're in constant contact through a thing called radio that was once very popular among certain stages of most emerging cultures. It's a short-term usage thing as better ways of communicating come along so it's soon out of use, which makes it safe to use as TR and I do because it can't be intercepted except by Maita's machines – which have their own instructions.
In primitive cultures we have to be careful. They use it so can find it if we do.
It seems strange to enter a primitive culture and know they have the means to discover me when cultures thousands of years advanced over them seldom do.
Only Maita and I have the newest drive, designated TTH14. TR discovered it because of an accident on one of our recent little adventures. It isn't safe for ships that aren't independently intelligent. The planal interface factors and the dimensional mode planal interstices are far too complex for them.
Theron and Searcher, two intelligent machines we know, don't want the drive as it isn't really that much faster (To a machine with infinite patience) and is, as stated, dangerous to use.
Let's see. Anything else?
Oh, yeah. Perfect 3.
Perfect 3 is the third planet outward from the sun designated "Euclich," near the base of the spiral "N" arm of the galaxy. We call it N43/-1/1107, which is its galactic coordinate setting. It's one of four trade worlds in the system, each having certain characteristics that lend it to a different type of being.
Perfect 1 is small, hot, light, thick atmosphere. M1, in other words.
Perfect 2 is medium. Medium everything. Size, atmosphere, temperature. M2, (Like Terra). (If you've read any of Z's books he uses the old system where Terra was an M3, but the recent restructuring of classification puts Terra at M2, very close to M3.)
Perfect 3 is medium-sized, low atmospheric pressure, lower temperatures, low water content. M3.
Perfect 4 is large, heavy, thick atmosphere and medium temperature. It produces some heat internally. M4.
After that the planets in the system don't match their M numbers.
In the old system the "M" numbers were reversed.
I always say Perfect 3 is a nearly perfect (Get it? Sorry.) description – if you're judging on a scale of one to ten.
The galactic coordinates are simple and are possible because Maita and crew (Sometimes me included) placed gravitic pulse beacons a few years back at ten location across the galaxy. One at galactic center (Almost. There's a black hole at center, so we didn't think the beacon would hold up for long if it were placed in there. Get it?), one at the "top" of the center globe, and one at the "bottom," and one at each "compass arm" of the galaxy at 25,000 plazsis (A Maitan Empire standard light year) from galactic center. N43/-1/1107 is, therefore, 43 degrees from the galactic "N" beacon, one plazsi negative, which is galactic south of the center plane of the galaxy, and 21107 plazsis from galactic center. Set your coordinates for that, and you'll be within one plazsi of Euclich when you enter N space. Having once been there, you can calibrate much closer for subsequent trips.
42.849/-1.103/21106.8492 is within three light minutes, which is within the system about halfway between the orbits of Perfects 3 and 4.
I'm a shade under two meters in height, mass at 87 kilos and am designed to look like a Swaz.
A Swaz is an amphibian being from Swaville. Swaville (SWAH vuh leh, not Sway vil) is a planet that's not far (In interstellar terms) from Terra. It's also M2.
I have the general shape (K-form) of the reptilian Kheth or the mammalian Terrans, have webbing between my fingers and toes about one third of their length, have dual-lidded eyes (Inner clear, outer opaque), am what Z has called "built like a pro running back", (I haven't any idea what that means. I seldom know what he's talking about) have a vestigial small dorsal fin from the back of my neck to the crack of my ... buttocks. My skin is tough and leathery and I, of course, am hairless.
Swaville is a planet with a great deal of heavy metal salts in everything, which is why Maita chose the form. Those salts are stored in the skins of the beings from those planets for toxic isolation. The cells carrying the salts grow out and slough off with the skin layers. This rids the body of the cumulative poisons very effectively.
The lead and gold and such in the skin also very effectively make it virtually impossible to scan me with X-rays and E-M beams.
Neat, huh? Keeps them from finding out I'm a robot.
I was also designed to handle such things as eating and excretion and other organic functions so no one knows or can tell I'm not an actual native Swaz.
I have credentials from University or anywhere else I choose because I can plug into the machines that run things, program it in, and all will be confirmed.
That handles the preliminaries. Now to the case.
I was tinkering with the atom architects in the lab on TR when it told me there was a fastcom message coming in. I went in to take the sheet from the printer (Fastcom can only send printing, not voice) and read it.
That's another thing. I can plug directly into the fastcom to send and receive. Part of being a machine.
<TRD-60>
~Lanta:gvrnmnt brdcst:N52/0/20001
~Manipulation of economics causing disruptions
~See what's going on there Tab
>Maita.<
"Lanta," I said.
"You got it, Boss!" TR replied and took off.
Lanta isn't but a couple of hundred plazsis from Perfect so we'd be there in a few minutes. I asked TR to give me everything it had on Lanta and their systems.
Lanta is a very rare sort of place, I discovered. It has two intelligences who evolved together and who actually get along fairly well. One's basically reptilian, the Mirks, and is the higher intelligence. The others are called the Keepos, who're (Ha! I just noticed! Don't forget the apostrophe in that one!) like some animal Z calls "an intelligent chimpanzee with speech".
They're mammals.
They have a large reptilian animal they use for a beast of burden.
We grounded on the space port where I went to the local hotel, checked in and established myself under the name of Eks Trah, a name I often use.
I've had enough publicity in the past that it interferes with my investigations. I'd be the only Swaz on Lanta but, as all peoples of one race tended to look alike to another race that wouldn't be a serious problem.
TR can modify me tremendously when necessary and has a few disguises of its own.
I decided to take awhile to see what the real situation was before I put my big mouth into it, so strolled around getting the feel of the place.
A nice thing about being a machine and, to top that, being designed by the designer of most of the machines used for keeping the records for a large empire, is that I can interface directly to "read" those machines.
Now all I had to do was to discover what meaning any of it had so far as this case went.
I wasn't even sure what this case was. Maita hadn't said very much. It was economic, which generally isn't in the detective area so I'd have to go back to TR to study economics. I had all the information these machines around here would give, now I had to get the entire theory behind it.
It would take about two minutes as I simply plugged into TR's console to have it input on demand. I have several distinct partitions in my "mind" so I can input the information to study later. I can erase what isn't needed and use the space for something else.
Lanta is a stage four planet so there's only a very limited part of the world where empire people and other aliens are allowed to go. I sent floaters out at night to "read" the machines in other areas. I immediately found that the interference was from outside so it was definitely an empire matter.
But why? What did Lanta have to offer?
It was an agricultural planet. I wasn't aware of anything here anyone else would want badly enough to try to manipulate an entire economy to get! Titanium and rhodium were exports, as was the very high quality beryllium they produced, but that wasn't enough to bring anyone in. Those were all things that could be acquired easily from any number of places.
I input all about the agricultural products, but there didn't seem to be anything of overriding importance grown on the planet.
Okay. I had to find who was here illegally and get them out without harming an emerging culture. These things were delicate, but I wasn't worried about these people. They were open and friendly and aliens weren't a problem to their psychology.
Why the culprits, whoever they were, were here was another question. The only race who actually were stupid enough to think they could start an empire with themselves as overlords were the Immins and they were, for most practical considerations, now extinct.
Races joined the empire by their own request and could drop out anytime they chose. All the empire really is is a huge trading guild and social club. It was strictly for convenience races used the empire machines instead of millions of obstructive bureaucrats.
So who? What? Why?
I took two days (Local) gathering data, then went to see the agents for Lanta. I was still totally unlearned as to anything except that someone was manipulating the economy here for the singular purpose of bankrupting the place. The extreme economic depression seemed aimed at the people themselves.
A Keepo named Kupe spoke to me for a moment, then led me in to introduce me to a Mirk named Lahro, who was some sort of liaison officer for Lanta. He was somewhat slender, had fairly short arms in relation to his legs and body, a slight snout and sharp teeth.
He was wearing eyeglasses! It was the first time I had ever seen a reptile with glasses. They were of a strange design with a sort of clamp around the upper snout.
The ears were like mine. Slits in the side of the head.
"Please make yourself at home," he said. "Kupe said you were an economist?
"Please understand, if you are not familiar with our races, that Kupe's people are not as developed as are the Mirk. They were for centuries used for pets, they have evolved intelligence. It is in a formative stage. At this time they have the mental abilities of someone just prepubescent in my race.
"The races cooperate and we do get along well.
"Why is an economist from University on Lanta?"
"Because there's some anomalous feature in your economy that's about to throw your world into a great depression internally. We wish to prevent that," I replied. "There's the strong possibility it's an outside influence."
He (?) studied me carefully for a moment. "I am, of course, aware something is not right in our economy," he said. "We have a study team trying to find what is wrong so it may be corrected. I was not aware that University involved itself with such local things – especially on undeveloped worlds such as Lanta."
"We usually don't interfere when a race is doing something that'll cause problems only to itself," I said. "That doesn't seem to be the case here. We want to know what's happening so we can prevent a disaster that's not of your own making.
"We don't manipulate economies because that always comes back to haunt a culture later. It's a political trick.
"I must know who's going into the interior here who isn't native to this planet. Perhaps I can trace what's wrong and who, why and how it's being done, if you follow me."
"No one is leaving Spaceport," he said definitely. "That is certain. Our own economists have said it is an artificial kind of influence. They have the same trepidations as you, apparently."
I nodded, spoke a few pleasantries, then took my leave.
The empire had sensors so the only way anyone could come to this world undetected was to do it through this city. That no one had left this city other than natives of this world was equally certain.
That meant tampering with the machines. THAT'S something I'm particularly well-designed to handle!
Two days later I had to say flatly that there had been no tampering here. Period. No tampering and no one from outside.
How was it being done? – and, damn it! Why?
I went back to TR where we had a silent discussion. We decided it had to be a plan by someone who'd been here or who'd been represented here since the start of the decline.
It also had to be someone who had connections with Lanta's native financial institutions.
We went over the lists of aliens who fit that description and found there were only thirty four possibilities. TR said it would send floaters to follow that many, then argued they could easily defense surveillance.
Some people seem to think we have some very sophisticated weapons to use in detection, what with all the technology.
That's true. Unfortunately, every advance in our technology has a corresponding advance in something designed to thwart the technology and we're further behind all the time in some ways.
Not in mentality!
"Then we'll have a very good idea of who they are!" I said.
TR is nothing if not quick to see a point. "Yo!" it quickly replied.
I went back to the hotel to spend the next afternoon and evening until TR sent me the list of six who had defensed the floaters.
It worked! There were six people here who were deeply into something they wished to keep hidden so strongly that they had gone to the expense of buying anti-surveillance equipment. Three were investigators for investment firms so would naturally have such equipment. Three more were legal police organizations who would, also naturally, have the equipment.
By logical elimination it was one or more of the investment investigators. Someone had found something here and wanted to break the economy as a means of getting control of it.
That wasn't logical.
I went back to TR to argue it out, but it boiled down to those six.
I fastcommed the emperor to ask what possible thing could be on this world, then waited. It would take a certain amount of time for even such a sophisticated machine as Maita to search through every little clue.
The fastcom dinged and began printing: *There are no minerals or precious stones or inorganic compounds on Lanta that can't be found elsewhere in greater concentration and/or on unowned planets or asteroids. That leaves organic compounds or technology. There's no technology on Lanta that's more than primitive. There are no unusual theories and no psy talents beyond the norm. There are no drugs that can't be synthesized cheaper and better, either medical or recreational. It remains for you to discover what else it could be. Thing says hello and to ask you if you have found anything like gincha there? It's a thing that can be synthesized only with an atomic architect and only you and I have that technology. Z says to remember Feach. I assume that will mean something to you. I send greetings.*
Signed with the emperor's seal, so to speak. (Our personal link carried the seal as asterisks in the form of the great seal. Only direct coms from Maita had those seals on empire machines.) Even if there was something of interest in the message to anyone other than myself no machine in the galaxy would receive the message except TRD-60, its coded destination.
I thought a moment.
I knew who the culprit was, but I didn't know why or anything else. I didn't know how.
It was Koomthe Klaas, the investigator for Maitan Galactic Delicacies.
Both Thing and Z figured it much the way I did. It was a spice or rare flavoring that could be synthesized only with an atomic architect. Everyone else here dealt with other types of products.
Now to find the stuff, straighten out the economy and get Koomthe off the planet.
I had TR set a spy floater to watch the MGD warehouses and another to trace all shipments that came into the place. It could call others as needed.
It was wait time again, which is ninety percent of detective work, so I strolled around until I found Klaas in a shop having the aforementioned gincha with two natives. I had TR send two minifloaters to follow the natives when they left and sat at a table close to Klaas. He would know I was interested in him – or that someone was – because of the floater. I would dare him and see what transpired.
When the two left he nodded, then signaled for me to join him.
"I suppose they're to be followed?" he said as I sat.
"No, Klaas," I answered (Proving a machine CAN lie – if it's designed to do so, so don't believe what you've heard about that one!). "It's you I'm going to catch, not your flunkies."
He studied me.
He was a Fethren, which is a mammalian species something like an overly fat Terran with black and white fur.
"I wish you luck, but not good luck," he replied. "What are the charges to be?
"You're working for Lanta?"
"No, I'm working for the economics department at University," I lied, watching his reaction. He gasped slightly and I could see he was having a bit of trouble breathing.
If anyone caught the interest of University they were doomed and he knew it. The very finest brains from thousands of cultures directed at one was scrutiny nothing could withstand for long.
I stood and said, "Don't die of heart failure on me! I want to see you thoroughly destroyed and your name held to ridicule throughout the galaxy!" and walked out.
This was, obviously, psychological warfare. If he got scared he'd get careless and, though I planned to finish this quickly, every edge was an edge.
TR said two people had come to the warehouse and left. It reported the floaters had sent followers that had shown one to be a farmer in the mountains while the other was a free stockbroker. They both left with large sums of money on their persons.
I went to the nearest records machine where I plugged in as soon as it was safe to do so.
The way the economy was being wrecked was that vanadium, THE precious metal here and the basis of the economy, was being dumped in large supply all over the planet, destroying the basis of the economic system, thus the system itself. A gram of the metal was two hundred credits exchange one year ago, but was only forty two credits exchange now. A few more tons of a common element and this economy would collapse.
I went to the warehouse, used my sensors to find the security system, then used a couple of floaters to protect myself as I went inside after the place was closed for the night.
There were various cartons, sacks of things, jars and crates. I took small samples of everything, then went into the "office" section.
Klaas was seated behind a desk with a small light on his face. He was dead.
I ran sensors that determined he had died half an hour earlier of an electronic interference that stopped his heartbeat. He should never have told them I was after him.
Whoever "they" were.
I "read" the console of the security system to determine who was in the building at the time of death, then searched the rest of the offices.
In a closet in one was about a quarter ton of vanadium ingots, which I took on a pallet, loaded onto floaters, then sent to TR along with the samples from the containers.
I made the security system "forget" I'd been there, then went back to the hotel.
In the morning TR told me what was happening. There was a spice that was as much as addicting here, it grew in the outer mountains, it couldn't be synthesized except with the architect and the natives wouldn't grow it except as a last resort as they didn't use it on moral grounds, and these are a moral people. It was a rare type of compound in that it affected both reptilian and mammalian beings.
"Break the economy and force a depression so you can force the people to grow this stuff," TR snarled. "Every time I think we've found the lowest lifeform in the galaxy we find something lower.
"What next?"
"Does MGD have a ship here now?" I asked.
"Yo!"
"We have to get aboard," I said. "How long has it been on the planet?"
"Since yesterday morning," TR replied. "They took on some boxes and sacks."
"Has anything been taken off?" I asked.
"No. Two people," TR said.
I grinned and stood. TR told me which ship so I took four very small passive "bugs” along with some other very important stuff I "swallowed."
I went to the ship and strolled in as though I belonged. A security robot checked me over, but I turned on my "machine" responses so it decided I was another depot cargo handler servo.
I placed the "bugs" where I wanted them, then went to the control bay. No one was there so I announced my presence on the PA mike.
They came from all over the place with disruptors and lasers drawn. I grinned at the two who were obviously in charge.
"Kopey Lahch and Beerm Kluce?" I asked. "I spoke with your representative yesterday. Klaas?
"I really think you'd better leave Lanta and head out to intergalactic space. You people working for them who can take the probe and know you'll pass needn't worry, but the ones who're in the know will wish you hadn't been born or hatched or whatever."
"Kill him!" Kluce snarled.
I dropped the special compound on the elementizer grid (The thing that makes it possible for me to eat and drink), which breaks things down to their basic elements. I can then reassemble or vent off the gases, such as the strong anesthetic I sprayed over them. They were all sound asleep as I searched the ship with the help of several floaters. We removed two more tons of vanadium along with all the narcotic/spice.
I sealed the ship and called Maita to send an Empire cruiser, then went back to TRD-60.
"Boss, they store the vanadium in a huge vault in Capital City, not too far from here. What can we do?" TR asked.
"What if the weight of all that metal were to cause some kind of cave-in where most of it was forever lost?" I asked.
"I scan limestone caverns all under the place, but nothing deep enough to handle it," TR replied.
"So make something deep enough to handle it, then do it," I said.
To make a long story shorter, TR sent a floater with a sonic disintegrator to carve a deep flue, then to take the floor from under part of the vanadium.
I hoped to get the price back up to normal, but we only got enough to get it to about eighty six credits, but that was enough to save the economy after a bit of inflation and devaluation.
Now we'd have to bring others here to suggest the world's monetary system be changed to something that wouldn't be so easy to manipulate as some stupid metal. Maybe we could eventually get them onto empire exchange – which is based on the fact that most cultures wanted to get along with most others so it wasn't really based on anything except when Maita decreed one credit was the value of the average work done by any citizen of the Maitan Empire in one fifth of a MGS (Maitan Galactic Standard) hour.
To be quite truthful, the money was nothing more nor less than an excuse for diverse peoples to get together.
There's really very little crime in the empire. I'll have to spend some time answering some hard questions, such as: Why did these Fethren, a generally good, law-abiding race, want to get large amounts of money?
Why would they stoop to such a low method as to deal in addicting drugs?
Is this the only place such a thing is taking place?
Why is there a market for the drugs?
Where is that market?
There are thousands of other questions.
This is what I'm designed for – not so much for answering questions, but for asking new ones. It's a big galaxy. I'm sure there are far more questions out there than there are answers. I want to discover what some of them are!
I was on Empire Center with my friends, Thing, a Mentan, Z, a Terran, Maita, a machine who is emperor of most of this galaxy – though most peoples don't know that – and Tous, a Parf, artist extraordinaire and unclassifiable lifeform from a magnificent planet with rings and moons and all the things most peoples would want.
Kelth, a reptilian being whose parents had been diplomats, as had his grandparents, was there.
I'm designed to look, feel, act and react like a Swaz, an amphibian being from a planet called Swaville.
Yeah, designed. Maita built me to try to discover how and why organics think and act as they do. (Fat chance!)
My card:
Tabori R. DeSixtee
Private Investigations
Code TRD-60 Perfect 3
"Call me Tab"
The Tabori stands for Transitive Abecedarian Basic-ordered Random Intelligence, the R is for Robot and the DeSixtee is for D-60, my design/production number. TRD60 are my initials, my fastcom code and the name of my ship is TRD-60). I'm part of the ship most of the time. We're one being in one sense and separate in others. My friends and I call the ship TR when we're addressing it.
Abecedarian is a rare word that means a beginning learner in any field. My function is to learn and to transmit what I learn to Maita. I can plug directly into any of the empire machines to "read" them or input their information.
That's handy in the detective business.
Z was on the mountain planting orchids, Thing was under the sea, working on its gardens, Tous, who was now very old, was down painting the rising of the green sun. The red one was two thirds of the way behind him toward the horizon so the crossings of the lights made fantastic patterns.
Kelth had stepped into the transmat to go to Empire Center headquarters, thence to his own ship and away somewhere.
EC, as we call Empire Center, has a third sun. It is yellow. EC is as beautiful a place as Parf.
A floater came to give me a fastcom readout. (Fastcom doesn't transmit audio.) It must just be something to do because Maita or TRD-60 could transmit directly to me.
I picked up the sheet and thanked the floater (Yes, I know a floater has no intelligence. Haven't you ever thanked a recorded voice or some serving machine?), then read the thing.
<TRD60: Perfect 3: (rtnsmt EC1)>
~Tab I am in trouble
~Come at once
~University
~Do not chance interception message.
~Destroy this. >Rimalt.<
Rimalt? Who the hell is Rimalt?
I searched my interior data banks (The main ones are on TR, but if someone on University feared interception I took that damned seriously. That was why Maita sent the message by floater) and discovered Rimalt was a professor from Inkta and was the registered owner of T6, or Ship, an intelligent ship who had altered the records so it could be with its friend.
All ships handle their own registration so Maita talked with Ship and agreed that, as Ship is an empire private transport, no one would ever know the difference.
I liked Ship, so would probably like Rimalt.
I "ate" the message (Dropped it into my mouth where it fell onto the elementizer grid to be broken down to its constituent atoms which were then vented as gases or stored as solids. The grid makes it possible for me to eat and drink, which are things expected of an organic) I then went into the transmat, told Maita I was off (To which it replied, "So what's new?" We all have our own senses of humor, too) and boarded TR. Maita had given TR the message over closed circuit so it wasn't necessary for me to tell it where to go. (Double entendre.)
University is a planet established by Maita for the sole purpose of functioning as its name implies. The basic entrance requirements are unbelievably stiff and, of the thousands of people among the thousands of races on thousands of worlds, only about one percent are considered, ten percent of those actually make it and thirty nine to forty six percent of those finish the basic courses. Of those who finish the basic courses only twenty percent or so finish secondary – and of those only two percent finish the full courses.
To be considered at all is a tremendous honor while to be accepted, even if one fails, means a great advantage over others in the field chosen. For a world to have as many as three persons attending University in one year is unusual and only a few have even two in a decade.
There's a world called New Zule that has no less than six students right now, though the Zulians are a special case in most ways. I don't know of any Zulian who started at University who didn't finish at least the basic course – with honors. I think from knowing those people any one of them who applied would make the grade.
How do I get sidetracked like this?
Oh, yeah.
We landed at the main port, but in the local or 'For the staff' parking lot. I used Maita's machines to list where Ship was and we grounded directly across the carrier pad from it. TR could establish a closed laser comlink that couldn't be intercepted.
I'd have to pretend to be visiting for some other purpose so I got out the official-looking papers Maita long ago gave me that said I'd finished primary and secondary on University in metals and alloys with a minor in robotics.
Rimalt was prof. of exopsychology (Everything here was exopsychology. University was a rock with a fourteen thousand kilometer diameter before Maita planoformed it. It had no native life at all) so I put "cause: to discuss robot psychology with exopsychologists." Students and graduates steadily kept up with their fields and often came to University for research or updating. If they didn't their degrees were rescinded to basic.
I met with two other professors to discus, A – that it was very rare for a Swaz to attend University, even rarer for one to complete basic and rarest of all for one to complete secondary and, B – the psychological implications of programmed ability from a machine having no built-in independent intelligence.
I handled A by stating the records would show the Swaz had high intelligence and ability, but weren't of a psychological type to stay in one place studying (Which is true ) and B, by talking so far over their heads they passed me along to another who might have expertise in the field.
No professors on University would be bothered because a graduate student had gone so far ahead of them in his researches. They were, in fact, delighted.
I often took programming information from the unintelligent machines so I could talk the subject well. I also had programmed in every single bit of knowledge every single one of them had.
Rimalt took me into his personal office, which was secure, and I remembered him exactly. He had taken that Allen Dale character to the Terran system from that crazy planet where the sorcerer had stopped the best Terran ship with a spell. (Science!)
"Tab, I hope you remember me," Rimalt said. "I have a rather serious problem here and I don't know how to handle it.
"I found your card on my ship and seem to remember that you do work for the emperor so I called you in. I noted that your records here are exceptional, so I have some hope.
"Perhaps all I need is another slant, but this is too much to let go by without investigation."
He was swinging his trunk from side to side so I knew he was extremely nervous.
Perhaps I should describe what the Inktans are like for those of you who don't know them. They aren't a widespread race.
You've all seen holos of the Terran, Z, who is a friend of the emperor. He's shown on holovid enough to where he's familiar to most.
Well, picture him much the same from the neck down, but with very large ears that can be used like a fan and a snout or nose that's long and muscular and can be used much like a tentacle at times. It hangs almost to the waist.
Z says it looks like a man with an elephant's head, whatever that is.
At times of stress they have a habit of swinging the "trunk" from side to side. They are very intelligent and good people. Witness the fact this one is a professor on University. There are other Inktan professors on University, which is quite an honor for Inkta in itself. You can imagine the requirements.
"What seems to be the problem?" I asked.
"In a word, murder," he replied.
That was a real shock! Murder at University was unheard of! It wasn't all that common anywhere in the Maitan Empire, but here at University?
"Why hasn't the emperor been told!?" I cried.
"Because it is not known to be murder," he said. "I have a very inquisitive mind and have discovered there is no such thing as real coincidence beyond a very limited point in extraordinary circumstances.
"I hope I am wrong. I sincerely hope I am upset over nothing and that coincidence can be more than I ever thought. Here!"
He handed me four sheets of white paper and one of yellow. I took the yellow one first.
>Professor Ju Senkwat: Modal plane physics:
University 3D: Pentate 1, 71597MGS: Twanith 4 – ZeMa Ind. Rsrch. 4MGS yr. Uv Septate 1, 71601MGS: Inv. TTH4 Modal Inverter Safety Cutout – TTH4 dual course mode drop switch. Pub (ATTCHD). Rcrd exmplry. D: Medate 11, 71605MGS.(?)NC.<
He finished the full courses, worked in research on Twanith for four + Maitan Galactic Standard years, invented two very important safety features and published pages of research and theory. He died last year of assumed natural causes.
On University it WOULD be assumed natural.
Where the hell was Twanith? With a Zeenan-Maitan plant?
I scanned my data. Twanith 4 was an M3 planet toward galactic center and west. It was known for research in applied physics.
I took the top white sheet.
>Kelu So Zupen; Kliin; S979; Planal navigation: Prime 1, 71604MGS: Spnsr ZeMa/Kliin. 219. D: Medate 19, 71605. NCHF.<
Kliin was close to Twanith as those things go. About eighty plazsis (A plazsi is a MGS lightyear) and slightly more galactic westward.
I could see Rimalt's suspicion right away. ZeMa had sponsored both of the dead people: Natural causes – heart failure.
I took the next sheet.
>Lar Te Next; Sentah; S991; Mode plane set-and-hold mechanics m/beacon loci comb. moder TTH4. Medate 1, 71604MGS. Spnsr. ZeMaMo. 219. D: Septate 6, 71605MGS. NCRspF.<
A score of over 990! A genius among geniuses!
ZeMa again. This was definite as far as I was concerned.
Natural causes: Respiratory failure.
Sure! Right! and yeah!
I picked up the next sheet.
>Coom Koom; Srarnthph; S989; Planal crossover mechanics/ planal physics. Medate 1, 71604MGS. No spnsr. R219. D: Septate 6, 71605 MGS. (?)NC.<
Entered and died on the same days as the one before, but no sponsor?
I checked my data banks. Srarnthph produced rare alloys and electralloys. ZeMa used electralloys in their moders.
How nice.
The last sheet was different:
>Pin Trk; VSTR; Califf; D: Septate 6, 71605MGS. AcD.Elec. Shk.<
A visitor from Califf was electrocuted? Other than the fact two others had died that date I didn't get the connection.
I checked data and got the connection. ZeMa main offices were on Califf.
Rimalt was watching me closely.
"Give me the rest of it," I requested.
"Trk was a troubleshooter for ZeMa with a reputation as a hit man. He was supposed to have killed two people on Netdel a couple of years ago, but wouldn't take the probe and had to be released for insufficient evidence," he said. "He was electrocuted on his own ship.
"It seems there was a power auxline left plugged that fell against the door to his quarters. He grabbed the handle and was fried.
"Another coincidence was that the safety light was burned out AND the warning tone was under a pile of dirty laundry so it couldn't be heard.
"Strange that dirty laundry was in the hall."
"The hit man was hit," I said. "Why all the secrecy on your part?"
"The machine asked and reported on my request for information about Trk. There was no code for the asker," he answered.
I nodded, then told him to take a leave, get on T6 and get the hell out for a few days. I would go with him to T6 to have TR give flight instructions.
Anyone who knows anything whatever about modal plane travel will get a very cold sick feeling to even consider the least possibility there's any tampering with any of those devices. Should one go out of phase inside of a star that star would immediately nova – in two planes. That's a hell of a lot of destruction for a little thing that can be carried in the average pocket. (Well, if you have a large reinforced pocket. They're heavy.)
I waited until Rimalt was out and on the way to T6, then followed with a floater. I couldn't see that he was followed otherwise so went into TR soon after Rimalt entered T6 and sealed for flight.
I had TR beam T6 they were in danger so it might be a very good idea if they disappeared for a few days.
As soon as Ship left I fastcommed Maita on the unbreachable channel about the whole thing. I sent it in digital burst as a secondary precaution, though there should BE no way to breach that channel.
Disguise time.
I had TR take me off-planet to mold me into the form of a Bentan. It put on a disguise of its own, by making the saucer-shape appear wavy and unbalanced. It was a thin shell, but it was very convincing.
Bentans didn't go to University, usually. Probably not more than one every three decades made it past primary, but they were there as workers so one more wouldn't cause comment.
I accessed the port facility machines, then went into the complex to access some of their machines. TR reported there was no interference on circuits anymore now that Rimalt was gone and the ship following him had also left.
"What?" I sent. "Did you warn T Six?"
"Sure, Boss, but Ship knew it. I fastcommed Maita, now Ship's heading for EC. The tail will have a surprise when it pops out into N space!" TR replied.
I couldn't find much on University so went back to TR.
"Boss, the ship that carried the hit man also carried the hit man's hit man," TR said. "I got its code and Maita said it's now aground on Sentah. Sentah has a distributorship for good ol' ZeMa Industries and has branch offices there."
"Let's go!" I said. I used the time on the way to Sentah to study everything about this case. I couldn't see the purpose of any of this.
I had another idea so, as I was directly connected to TR's banks, I got all the information about ZeMa.
Zeena had a few partnerships with various other worlds to help distribute their products. Some, such as ZeMa, did basic research as well. Zeena was known as THE quality producer in the empire of such things as ships and was most careful of every stage.
My logic suggested that something was developed on Twanith in the four years that Ju Senkwat was working there, possibly by him directly. The three students had some access to what it was – or knew something about it.
Something had gone desperately wrong and this was coverup.
That didn't make any sense. If something went wrong it would be corrected. No one would chance a problem with a moder!
That gave me another idea. I accessed the records of ZeMa again.
ZeMa was owned by Irwat Cloogue Feer, a Bentan. It was in debt to the tune of several million credits, but that wasn't excessive for this stage. It held patents on Ju's safety devices, which alone would make billions – if there wasn't a problem with the device or its design.
I told TR to stop and to get Maita on the fastcom.
I asked if there had been any sign of defect in the devices and waited for the sheet.
*Re: Inq. Ju devices. Pretesting seems definitive. All laboratory tests positive.*
"Any record of in-service testing?" I asked.
*Reports to ZeMa not on record this time.*
"Get those tests, Maita!" I sent. "Something's wrong here. Very wrong – and with moder safety!"
I told TR to head for Twanith. I also had it remove its disguise and to remodify me. I'm much more comfortable as a Swaz.
We got our answer minutes before we reached Twanith: *Reports Ju devices show deterioration of alloys and some connections interplanal interfacings. Devices inoperative after sixty one jumps. Am withdrawing all units from service and am issuing recall. Have notified Zeena both this and murder warrants I have taken against Bentan Irwat Cloogue Feer and persons now unknown. Cloogue will be placed on probe under my orders immediately when apprehended. Cloogue on Twanith. Get her, Tab.*
I had TR land on the ZeMa pads where it could disable all ships there. No one was leaving until I had Cloogue aboard TR and on the probe. The fact that Maita not only would allow the use of the probe – but demanded it – was enough to show the extreme seriousness of this.
But why? Why would anyone do such a thing? A moder could fail anywhere without the safety features – and anywhere included the star any individual or race was near at a given time!
Irwat Cloogue Feer was in her office seated at her desk dead as an asteroid. She had written a note in her own hand, which was a talent few had anymore. It's so much easier to speak into a pocket secretary that costs about ten credits and have everything written, printed, shown on a screen or played back at your own convenience. It would correct the grammar and spelling and would translate to any of the traders' languages.
I picked the paper up carefully and read it:
To whom it may concern:
I, Irwat Cloogue Feer, have committed a crime against all life in this galaxy, and can only beg understanding.
I invested everything I own in this company, and even borrowed to employ a University graduate who has taken several patents in this company's name. Those patents would in normal circumstances earn many times my investment. That is the value of a University graduate.
We have recently discovered there is a serious flaw in the design of those parts. The man who designed them found, with a group of his students, that interplanal mechanics in themselves will make the devices useless after a limited number of uses. They then become dangerous.
The company has been taken out of my hands, and I cannot control those who now hold it.
I wanted to finance Ju Senkwat's research to repair the damage, and to make the devices workable.
Such is not possible. Ju is dead, as are his pupils, and I know surely my own accidental death must be planned, and even now, something along those lines is being enacted.
I choose, therefore, to take my own life, and to leave this warning. DO NOT USE THE ZeMa MODAL INTERFACE DEVICE! THE PROGRAM IS FAULTY!
Kemah take my spirit
It was signed and sealed by Cloogue.
I sent the information to TR, who sent it to the emperor and keyed the police. I gave them my story on the probe (They aren't aware I'm a machine), then went to TR.
"What now?" I asked.
"We have to find out who's really behind this crap, obviously," TR answered. "Review the records we have and you find something important.
"You read the University machines. What does it mean?"
I input my full recorded data into TR.
"Okay. What's two nineteen? What's R two nineteen?" it asked, then answered from its own data.
"Recommended by two nineteen.
"Two nineteen is a scout for the University Applied Physics Department.
"Does that mean what it's got to mean?"
"Yeah," I said. "A rotten rockslug at University."
We were soon back at University where I accessed the records. 219 wasn't on the list.
"That means two nineteen's a bigshot who has access to the machines," I suggested to TR.
"THAT means they can be found through other methods," TR replied. "Call up records and find who paid what for whom to go to Twarnith, Kliin, Sentah ... which is where our killer went. Netdel and Sentah are both pirate planets and are almost on top of each other.
"Get the records and we're gone!"
I accessed the machines as quickly as possible, then got back to TR. We were on Netdel a few hours later where I went to the offices of ZeMaNCo – to the president's office.
I met the typical efficient secretary, a Krome with a pinched face and a conservative and severe ear line. (The Krome have long pointed ears and attach a small chain between them to hold them upright. This one had a plain chain without jewels.)
I used my Maitan Empire credentials and went into the office as a Bentan woman was exiting the balcony. TR had a floater there in seconds so apprehended her quickly. Here's the probe report:
~Eekto Flen Who: Bentan female born Bypass Medate 12, 71574MGS; Schooling normal: No record: President ZeMaNCo, Netdel at time of arrest. Charges by machine incorruptible. Probe by Emperor Maita order ANMGS5-22-71606/TRD60-Priority 1. As follows:
= I did in full knowledge conspire to produce and to distribute dangerously defective equipment with full knowledge of possible life-threatening results to entire planetary systems.
= I did have full awareness these defects could destroy civilizations in two planes at one and the same moment.
= I did personally pay for the deaths by murder of six (?) persons.
= I did personally kill one Pin Trk, the person hired to kill others.
= I did recruit all those killed, except for Professor Ju Senkwat for the purpose of hiding the fact the moders were defective.
= I did all this to increase my financial position, therefore my personal power over my fellow beings.
= I will again commit crimes of any magnitude should the chance arise, as I am totally greedy.
That last part was something the probe is great for discovering. No organic can possibly fool it into releasing them if they have the capacity to renew their criminal activities.
TR dumped her into its large elementizer and that was that. No finesse at all.
We then went back to EC where I stepped back onto Z's patio from the transmat. Rimalt was sitting on the edge of the fishpond watching the colors flash and dart.
"I got the conspirators. The emperor recalled all the moders that were defective and is repairing them at empire expense," I said. "Do you know about it?"
"Yes," he replied. "Thing was here a few minutes ago and told me all about it."
"Your thought processes have saved the lives of many people and possibly of entire civilizations," I said.
"That is something YOU have done," he replied. "I know of your exploits with those Immins and in other areas. That is why I decided to call you.
"I have a suggestion for the emperor if you will be so kind as to deliver it. He is far too busy to see me and I wouldn't ask, but I know you speak with him often.
"These things are something a machine would spot very quickly.
"You came with excellent empire credentials and are studying mechanopsychology, therefore, you have obviously had some experience with the quickness of the machine to refute too much coincidence.
"Why not program the birth/death records machines to spot these anomalies?"
I looked thoughtful, then nodded. "A good idea," I agreed. "It would've discovered the problem at University long before it became so serious."
"You might save some civilizations in the future as a direct result," he said. "I have read of your exploits, as I said, and I have read your own chronicles.
"Saving civilizations seems to be a habit of yours.
"I'll go back to work at University now. Good fortune!"
He stepped to the transmat station, turned to lift the trunk in salute, winked at me and was gone.
You WOULD think I sort of make a specialization of saving civilizations to read my stuff – wouldn't you?
Good fortune!
The fastcom chattered, dinged and began spewing out its sheet of information.
That's the trouble with fastcom. Sure, you can send a message instantaneously across the whole galaxy, but only to a printer. No voice, no pictures.
I tore off the sheet to read the message.
<Tabori R. DeSixtee Agency: Perfect 3>
~TRD60: 15:10: Medate 11, 71602MGS as follows:
~Tab please meet me Royal Hotel Space port City Bypass room 716 9:30 Medate 15
~Important matter.
~You were recommended by Kheth diplomat Kelth.
~Discretion required.
~®). >Son Tak – Eachera<
That's me, Tab.
My card:
Tabori R. DeSixtee
Private Investigations
Code TRD-60 Perfect 3
"Call me Tab"
The R stands for robot, but only a few know that. Emperor Maita made me personally for the purpose of learning how organic beings think. It won't work, but as I'm brilliantly programmed and am independent I'm having a lot of fun.
®) in message means respond.
This one would be easier on me, too, because the last case was for a professor at University so was a lot more formal than I like to be. Eacherons have a less subtle sense of humor. Maita made me with a great sense of the ridiculous.
See, Maita's a machine, too, though a VERY few people know that!
I have a ship that's actually part of myself when we're interlinked. TRD-60 has vast memory banks and computational circuitry I can use directly. I can also plug right into most of the machines that run the empire and can "read" them instantly or alter their programming. That really helps in the detective business.
Aren't you glad machines are incorruptible?
Don't bet on it.
I instructed TR (I take it you've figured TRD-60 is the ship's registration. I call it TR) to head for Bypass on TTH4, the new standard drive. TR has a much faster one, but only the emperor and TR have it. We only discovered how to use it a very short time ago – since my last solo case. It's far too dangerous for a non-intelligent machine to control. Besides, it would only take twenty hours to go the almost five thousand plazsis (Maitan Galactic Standard lightyears) to Bypass on standard TTH4.
I'm designed to look like a Swaz, an amphibious being from a planet called Swaville. I look, act, feel and smell like a Swaz, as a general rule, but there's equipment on TR to modify me any way necessary.
Bypass is one of the old pirate planets that was converted into a vacation world with casinos and all that crap. It's been a thriving business for about three hundred MGS years now. Emperor Maita sees that everything is on the up and up in the games and there're the usual diversions found on such worlds.