tower as was practical. In a matter of moments there was a guard of twenty
or more sloppily uniformed men about their small craft.
Tog made a move. “Welcoming committee,” she said.
[Illustration.]
They climbed out the circular port, and flashed their United Planets
Bureau of Investigation badges to the youngish looking soldier who seemed
in command. He was indecisive.
“United Planets?” he said. “All I know is I’m supposed to arrest anybody
landing.”
Ronny snapped, “We’re to be taken immediately to United Planets
headquarters.”
“Well, I don’t know about that. I don’t take orders from foreigners.”
One of his men was nervously fingering the trigger of his submachine gun.
Ronny’s mouth went dry. He had the feeling of being high, high on a rock
face, inadequately belayed from above.
Tog said smoothly, “But, major, I’m sure whoever issued your orders had no
expectation of a special delegation from the United Planets coming to
congratulate your new authorities on their success. Of course, it’s
unknown to arrest a delegation from United Planets.”
“It is?” he frowned at her. “I mean, you are?”
“Yes,” Tog said sweetly.
Ronny took the hint. “Where can we find a vehicle, major, to get us to the
capital and to United Planets headquarters? Evidently we arrived before we
were expected. There should have been a big welcoming committee here.”
“Oh,” the obviously recently promoted lad said hesitantly. “Well, I
suppose we can make arrangements. This way please.” He grinned at Tog as
they walked toward the administration building. “Do all girls dress like
you on Earth?”
“Well, no,” she said demurely.
“That’s too bad,” he said gallantly.
“Why, major!” Tog said, keeping her eyes on the tarmac.
At the administration building there was little of order, but eventually
they managed to arrange for their transportation. Luckily, they were
supplied with a chauffeur driven helio-car.
Luckily, because without the chauffeur to help them run the gauntlet they
would have been held up by parades, demonstrations and monstrous street
meetings a dozen times before they ever reached their destination. Twice,
Ronny stopped short of drawing his gun only by a fraction when half
drunken demonstrators stopped them.
The driver, a wispy, sad looking type, shook his head. “There’s no going
back now,” he told them over his shoulder. “No going back. Last week I was
all with the rest, I never did believe David the One was really Immortal.
But you was just used to the idea, see? It’d always been that way, with
the priests running everything and we was used to it. Now I wish we was
still that way. At least you knew how you stood, see? Now, what’s going to
happen?”
“That’s an interesting question,” Tog said politely.
Ronny said, “Possibly you’ll have the chance to build a better world,
now.”
The driver shot a contemptuous look over his shoulder. “Better world? What
do I want with a better world? I just don’t want to be bothered. I’ve been
getting my three squares a day, got a nice little flat for my family. How
do I know it’s not going to be a worse world?”
“That’s always a possibility,” Tog told him. “Do most people seem to feel
the same?”
“Practically everybody I know does,” he said glumly. “But the fat’s in the
fire now. The priests are trying to hold on but their government is
falling apart all over the place.”
“Well,” Ronny said, “at least you can figure just about anything in the
way of a new government will be better than one based on superstition and
inquisition. It couldn’t get worse.”
“Things can always get worse,” the other contradicted him sadly.
-------------------------------------
They left the cab before an impressively tall, many windowed building in
city center. As they mounted the steps, Ronny frowned at her. “You seemed
to be encouraging that man in his pessimism. So far as I can see, the best
thing that ever happened to this planet was toppling that phony
priesthood.”
“Perhaps,” she said agreeably. “However, the man’s mind was an ossified
one. A surprisingly large percentage of people have them, especially when
it comes to institutions such as religion and government. We weren’t going
to be able to teach him anything, but it was possible to learn from him.”
Ronny grunted his disgust. “What could we possibly learn from him?”
Tog said mildly, “We could learn what people of the street were thinking.
It might give us some ideas about what direction the new government will
take.”
They approached the portals of the building and were halted by an armed
Space Forces guard of half a dozen men. Their sergeant saluted, taking in
their obvious other-planet clothing.
“Identifications, please,” he said briskly.
They showed their badges and were passed on through. Ronny said to him,
“Much trouble, sergeant?”
The other shrugged. “No. Just precautions, sir. We’ve been here only three
or four weeks. Civil disturbance. We’re used to it. Were over on Montezuma
two basic months ago. Now there was _real_ trouble. Had to shoot our way
out.”
Tog called, “Coming Ronny? I have this elevator waiting.”
He followed her, scowling. An idea was trying to work its way through.
Somehow he missed getting it.
Headquarters of the Department of Justice were on the eighth floor. A
receptionist clerk led them through three or four doors to the single
office which housed Section G.
A red eyed, exhausted agent looked up from the sole desk and snarled a
question at them. Ronny didn’t get it, but Tog said mildly, “Probationary
Agent Ronald Bronston and Tog Lee Chang Chu. On special assignment.” She
flicked open her badge so that the other could see it.
His manner changed. “Sorry,” he said, getting up to shake hands. “I’m
Mouley Hassan, in charge of Section G on New Delos. We’ve just had a
crisis here, as you can imagine. The worst of it’s now over.” He added
sourly, “I hope. All my assistants have already taken off for Avalon.” He
was a short statured, dark complected man, his features betraying his
Semitic background.
Ronny shook hands with him and said, “Sorry to bother you at a time like
this.”
They found chairs and Mouley Hassan flicked a key on his order box and
said to them, “How about a drink? They make a wonderful sparkling wine on
this planet. Trust any theocracy to have top potables.”
Ronny accepted the offer, Tog refused it politely. She sat demurely, her
hands in her lap.
Mouley Hassan ran a weary hand through already mussed hair. “What’s this
special assignment you’re on?”
Ronny said, “Commissioner Metaxa has sent me looking for Tommy Paine.”
“Tommy Paine!” the other blurted. “At a time like this, when I haven’t had
three nights’ sleep in the last three basic weeks, you come around looking
for Tommy Paine?”
Ronny was taken aback. “Sid Jakes seemed to think this might be one of
Paine’s jobs.”
Tog said mildly, “What better place to look for Tommy Paine, than in a
situation like this, Agent Hassan?” Her eyebrows went up. “Or don’t you
think the quest for Paine is an important one?”
The other subsided somewhat. “I suppose you’re right,” he said. “I’m
deathly tired. Do whatever you want. But don’t expect much from me.”
Tog said, just a trifle tartly, Ronny thought, “We’ll have to call on you,
as usual, Agent Hassan. There’s probably no single job in Section G more
important than the pursuit of Tommy Paine.”
“All right, all right,” Mouley Hassan admitted. “I’ll co-operate. How long
have you been away from Earth?” he said to Ronny.
“About one basic week.”
“Oh,” he grunted. “This is your first stop, eh? Well, I don’t envy you
your job.” He brought a cool bottle from a delivery drawer in the desk
along with two glasses. “Here’s the wine.”
Ronny leaned forward to accept the glass. “This situation here,” he said,
“do you think it can be laid to Paine?”
Mouley Hassan shrugged wearily. “I don’t know.”
Ronny sipped the drink, looking at the tired agent over the glass rim.
“From what we understand, check has been kept on all persons leaving the
planet since the bombing.”
“Check is right. There’s only one ship that took off and it carried nobody
except my assistants. If you ask me, I still needed them, but some brass
hat back on Earth decided they were more necessary over on Avalon.” He was
disgusted.
Ronny put the glass down. “You mean only one ship’s left this planet since
the God-King was killed?”
“That’s right. It was like pulling teeth to get the visas.”
“How many men aboard?”
Mouley Hassan looked at him speculatively. “Four-man crew and six Section
G operatives.”
Tog said brightly, “Why, that means, then, that either Tommy Paine is
still on this planet, or he’s one of the passengers or crew members of
that ship.” She added, “That is, of course, unless he had a private craft,
hidden away somewhere.”
Ronny slumped back into his chair as some of the ramifications came home
to him. “If it was Tommy Paine at all,” he said.
Mouley Hassan nodded. “That’s always a point.” He finished his glass and
looked pleadingly at Tog. “Look, I have work. If I can finish some of it,
I might have time for some sleep. Couldn’t we postpone the search for
Tommy Paine.”
Tog said nothing to him.
Ronny came to his feet. “We’ll get along. A couple of ideas occur to me.
I’ll check with you later.”
“Fine,” the agent said. He shook hands with them again. He said, somehow
more to Tog than to Ronny, “I know how important your job is. It’s just
that I’ve been pushed to the point where I can’t operate efficiently.”
She smiled her understanding, gave him her small, delicate hand.
In the elevator, Ronny said to her, “Why should this sort of thing
particularly affect Section G?”
Tog said, “It’s times like this that planets drop out of the UP. Or,
possibly, get into the hands of some jingoistic military group and start
off halfcocked to provoke a war with some other planet, or to missionarize
or propagandize it.” She thought about it a moment. “A new revolution, in
government or religion, seems almost invariably to want to spread the
light. An absolute compulsion to bring to others the new truths that
they’ve found.” She added, her voice holding a trace of mockery, “Usually
the new truths are rather hoary ones, and there are few interested in
hearing them.”
-------------------------------------
They spent their first day in getting accommodations in a centrally
located hotel, in making arrangements, through the Department of Justice,
for the local means of exchange—it turned out to be coinage, based on
gold—and getting the feel of their surroundings.
Evidently Delos, the capital city of the planet New Delos, was but slowly
emerging from the chaos that had taken over on the assassination. A
provisional government, composed of representatives of half a dozen
different organizations which had sprung up like mushrooms following the
collapse of the regime, had assumed power. Elections had been promised and
were to be brought off when arrangements could be made.
Meanwhile, the actual government was still largely in the hands of the
lower echelons of the priesthood. A nervous priesthood it was, seemingly
desirous of getting out from under while the going was good, afraid of
being held responsible for former excesses.
Ronny Bronston, high hopes still in his head, looked up the Sub-Bishop who
had given them landing orders while they were still aboard the Space
Forces cruiser. Tog was off making arrangements for various details
involved in their being in Delos in its time of crisis.
A dozen times, on his way over to keep his appointment with the official,
Ronny had to step into doorways, or in other wise make himself
inconspicuous. Gangs of demonstrators roamed the street, some of them
drunken, looking for trouble, and scornful of police or the military.
Twice, when it looked as though he might be roughed up, Ronny drew his gun
and held it in open sight, ready for use, but not threateningly. The
demonstrators made off.
His throat was dry by the time he reached his destination. The life of a
Section G agent, on interplanetary assignment, had its drawbacks.
The Sub-Bishop had formerly been in charge of Interplanetary
Communications which involved commerce as well as intercourse with United
Planets. It must have been an ultra-responsible position only a month ago.
Now his offices were all but deserted.
He looked at Ronny’s badge, only vaguely interested. “Section G of the
Bureau of Investigation,” he said. “I don’t believe I am aware of your
responsibilities. However,” he nodded with sour courtesy, “please be
seated. You must forgive my lack of ability to offer refreshment. Isn’t
there an old tradition about rats deserting a sinking ship? I am afraid my
former assistants had rodentlike instincts.”
Ronny said, “Section G deals with Interplanetary Security, sir—”
“I am addressed as Holiness,” the other said.
Ronny looked at him. “Sorry,” he said. “I am a citizen of the United
Planets, not any one planet, even Earth. UP citizens have complete
religious freedom. In my case I am unaffiliated with any church.”
The Sub-Bishop let it pass. He said sourly, “I am afraid that even here on
New Delos, I am seldom honoured by my title any more. Go on, you say you
deal with Interplanetary Security.”
“That’s correct. In cases like this we’re interested in checking to see if
there is any possibility that citizens of planets other than New Delos are
involved in your internal affairs.”
The other’s eyes were suddenly slits. He said, heavily, “You suspect that
David the One was assassinated by an alien?”
Ronny had to tread carefully here. “I make no such suggestion. I am merely
here to check on the possibility. If such was the case, my duty would be
to arrest the man, or men.”
“If we got hold of him, you’d have small chance of asserting your
authority,” the priest growled. “What did you want to know?”
“I understand that no interplanetary craft have left New Delos since the
assassination.”
“None except a United Planets ship which was carefully inspected.”
Ronny said tightly, “But what facilities do you have to check on secret
spaceports, possibly located in some remote desert or mountain area?”
The New Delian laughed sourly. “There is no other planet in all the United
Planets with our degree of security. We even imported the most recent
developments in artificial satellites equipped with the most delicate of
detection devices. I assure you, it is utterly impossible for a spacecraft
to land or take off from New Delos without our knowledge.”
Ronny Bronston’s eyes lit with excitement. “These security measures of
yours. To what extent do you keep under observation all aliens on the
planet?”
The priest’s chuckle had a nasty quality. “You are quite ignorant of our
institutions, evidently. Every person on New Delos, in every way of life,
was under constant survey from the cradle to the grave. Aliens were highly
discouraged. When they appeared on New Delos at all, they were restricted
in their movements to this, our capital city.”
Ronny let air whistle from his lungs. “Then,” he said triumphantly, “if
any alien had anything to do with this, he is still on the planet. Can you
get me a list of all aliens?”
The other laughed again, still sourly. “But there are none. None except
you employees of United Planets. I’m afraid you’re on a wild-goose chase.”
Ronny stared at him blankly. “But commercial representatives, cultural
exchange—”
The priest said flatly, “No. None at all. All commerce was handled through
UP. We encouraged no cultural exchanges. We wished to keep our people
uncorrupted. United Planets alone had the right to land on our one
spaceport.”
The Section G agent came to his feet. This was much simpler than he could
ever have hoped for. He thanked the other, but avoided the necessity of
shaking hands, and left.
-------------------------------------
He found a helio-cab and dialed it to the UP building, finding strange the
necessity of slipping coins into the vehicle’s slots until the correct
amount for his destination had been deposited. Coinage was no longer in
use on Earth.
At the UP building he retraced his steps of the day before to the single
office of Section G.
To his surprise, not only Mouley Hassan was there, but Tog as well. Hassan
had evidently had at least a few hours of sleep. He was in better shape.
They exchanged the usual amenities and took their chairs again.
Hassan said, “We were just gossiping. It’s been years since I’ve been in
Greater Washington. Lee Chang tells me that Sid Jakes is now a Supervisor.
I worked with him for a while, when I first joined Section G. How about a
glass of wine?”
Ronny said, “Look. If Tommy Paine was connected with this, and it’s almost
positive he was, we’ve got him.”
The others looked at him.
“You’ve evidently been busy,” Tog said mildly.
He turned to her. “He’s trapped, Tog! He can’t get off the planet.”
Mouley Hassan rubbed a hand through his hair. “It’d be hard, all right.
They’ve got the people under rein here such as you’ve never seen before.
Or they did until this blew up.”
Ronny sketched the situation to Tog, winding up with, “The only thing that
makes sense is that it’s a Tommy Paine job. The local citizens would never
have been able to get their hands on such a bomb, or been able to have
made the arrangements for its delivery. They’re under too much
surveillance.”
Tog said thoughtfully, “but how did he escape all this surveillance?”
“Don’t you understand? He’s working here, in this building, as an employee
of UP. There is no other alternative.”
They stared at him.
“I think perhaps you’re right,” Tog said finally.
Ronny turned to Mouley Hassan. “Can you get a list of all UP employees?”
“Of course.” He flicked his order box, barked a command into it.
Ronny said, “It’s going to be a matter of eliminating the impossible. For
instance, what is the earliest known case of Tommy Paine’s activity?”
Tog thought back. “So far as we know definitely, about twenty-two years
ago.”
“Fine,” Ronny said, increasingly excited. “That will eliminate all persons
less than, say, forty years of age. We can assume he was at least twenty
when he began.”
Hassan said, “Can we eliminate all women employees?”
Ronny said, “I’d think so. The few times he’s been seen, all reports are
of a man. And that case on the planet Mother where he put himself over as
a Holy Man. He could hardly have been a woman in disguise in a Stone Age
culture such as that.”
Hassan said, “And this Tommy Paine has been flitting around this part of
the galaxy for years, so anyone who has been here steadily for a period of
even a couple of years or so, can’t be suspect.”
Mouley Hassan thrust his hand into a delivery drawer and brought forth a
handful of punched cards, possibly fifty in all.
“Surely there’s more people than that working in this building,” Ronny
protested.
Mouley Hassan said, “No. I’ve eliminated already everyone who is a citizen
of New Delos. Obviously, Tommy Paine is an alien. We have only forty-eight
Earthlings and other United Planets citizens working here.”
He carried the cards to a small collator and worked for a moment on its
controls, as Tog and Ronny watched him with mounting tension. “Let’s see,”
he muttered. “We eliminate all women, all those less than forty, all who
haven’t done a great deal of travel, those who have been here for several
years.”
The end of it was that they eliminated everyone employed in the UP
building.
The cards were stacked back on Mouley Hassan’s desk again, and the three
of them sat around and looked glumly at them.
Ronny said, “He’s tinkered with the files. He counterfeited fake papers
for himself, or something. Possibly he’s pulled his own card and it isn’t
in this stack you have.”
Mouley Hassan said, “We’ll double-check all those possibilities, but
you’re wrong. Possibly a few hundred years ago, but not today. Forgery and
counterfeiting are things of the past. And, believe me, the Bureau of
Investigation and especially Section G, may look on the slipshod side, but
they aren’t. We’re not going to find anything wrong with those cards.
Tommy Paine simply is not working for UP on New Delos.”
“Then,” Ronny said, “there’s only one alternative. He’s on this UP ship
going to, what was the name of its destination?”
“Avalon,” Mouley Hassan said, his face thoughtful.
Tog said, “Do you have any ideas on the men aboard?”
Mouley Hassan said, “There were four crew men, and six of our agents.”
Tog said, “Unless one of them has faked papers, the six agents are
eliminated. That leaves the crew members. Do you know anything about
them?”
Hassan shook his head.
Ronny said, “Let’s communicate with Avalon. Tell our representatives there
to be sure that none of the occupants of that ship leaves Avalon until we
get there.”
Mouley Hassan said, “Good idea.” He turned to his screen and said into it,
“Section G, Bureau of Investigation, on the Planet Avalon.”
In moment the screen lit up. An elderly agent, as Section G agents seemed
to go, looked up at them.
Mouley Hassan held his silver badge so the other could see it and on the
Avalon agent’s nod said, “I’m Hassan from New Delos. We’ve just had a
crisis here and there seems to be a chance that it’s a Tommy Paine job.
Agent Bronston here is on an assignment tracking him down. I’ll turn it
over to Bronston.”
The Avalon agent nodded again, and looked at Ronny.
Ronny said urgently, “We haven’t the time to give you details, but every
indication is that Paine is on a UP spacecraft with Avalon as its
destination. There are only ten men aboard, and six of them are Section G
operatives.”
The other pursed his lips. “I see. You think you have the old fox
cornered, eh?”
“Possibly,” Ronny said. “There are various ifs. Miss Tog and I can double
check here. Then as soon as we can clear exit visas, we’ll make immediate
way for Avalon.”
The Avalon Section G agent said, “I haven’t the authority to control the
movements of other agents, they have as high rank as I have,” he added,
expressionlessly, “and probably higher than yours.”
Ronny said, “But the four-man crew?”
The other said, “These men are coming to Avalon to work on a job that will
take at least six months. We’ll make a routine check, and I’ll try and
make sure the whole ten will still be on Avalon when and if you arrive.”
They had to be satisfied with that. They checked all ways from the middle,
nor did it take long. There was no doubt. If this was a Tommy Paine job,
and it almost surely was, then there was only one way in which he could
have escaped from the planet and that was by the single spacecraft that
had left, destination Avalon. He was not on the planet, that was definite
Ronny felt. A stranger on New Delos was as conspicuous as a walrus in a
goldfish bowl. There simply were no such.
They spent most of their time checking and rechecking United Planets
personnel, but there was no question there either.
Mouley Hassan and others of UP personnel helped cut the red tape involved
in getting exit visas from New Delos. It wasn’t as complicated as it might
have been a week or two before. No one seemed to be so confident of his
authority in the new provisional government that he dared veto a United
Planets request.
Mouley Hassan was able to arrange for a small space yacht, slower than a
military craft, but capable of getting them to Avalon in a few days time.
A one-man crew was sufficient, Ronny, and especially Tog, could spell him
on the watches.
Time aboard was spent largely in studying up on Avalon, going over and
over again anything known about the elusive Tommy Paine, and playing
Battle Chess and bickering with Tog Lee Chang Chu.
If it hadn’t been for this ability to argue against just about anything
Ronny managed to say, he could have been attracted to her to the detriment
of the job. She was a good traveler, few people are; she was an
ultra-efficient assistant; she was a joy to look at; and she never
intruded. But, Great Guns, the woman could bicker.
The two of them were studying in the ship’s luxurious lounge when Ronny
looked up and said, “Do you have any idea why those six agents were sent
to Avalon?”
“No,” she said.
He indicated the booklet he was reading. “From what I can see here, it
sounds like one of the most advanced planets in the UP. They’ve made some
of the most useful advances in industrial techniques of the past century.”