The building still hummed and vibrated with the dying echoes of the
alarm siren as the biophysicist hurried down the corridor, and without
breaking stride, pushed open the door to the Director's office.
The Director shuffled the papers before him and sighed heavily. His
chair creaked protestingly as he shifted his bulk and looked up.
"Well?"
"He got away clean," said the biophysicist.
"Any fix on the direction?"
"None at all, sir. And he's got at least a two hours' start. That takes
in a pretty big area of space."
"Hm-m-m! Well there's just a bare chance. That experimental cruiser is
the fastest thing in space and it's equipped with the latest
ethero-radar. If we get started right away, we just might--"
"That's just it," interrupted the biophysicist. "That's the ship he got
away in."
The Director jumped angrily to his feet. "How did that happen? How can I
explain to the board?"
"I'm sorry, sir. He was just too--"
"_You're_ sorry?" He slumped back in his chair and drummed the desk top
with his fingernails, worrying his lower lip with his teeth. He exhaled
loudly and leaned forward. "Well, only one thing to do. You know the
orders."
The biophysicist squirmed uncomfortably. "Couldn't we send a squadron of
ships out to search and--"
"And what?" asked the Director, sarcastically. "You don't think I'd risk
a billion credits worth of equipment on a wild-goose chase like that, do
you? We could use up a year's appropriation of fuel and manpower and
still be unable to adequately search a sector one-tenth that size. If he
just sat still, a thousand ships couldn't find him in a thousand years,
searching at finite speeds. Add to that the fact that the target is
moving at ultra-light speed and the odds against locating him is
multiplied by a billion."
"I know, but he can't stay in space. He'll have to land somewhere,
sometime."
"True enough--but where and when?"
"Couldn't we alert all the nearby planets?"
"You know better than that. He could be halfway across the galaxy before
an ethero-gram reached the nearest planet."
"Suppose we sent scout ships to the nearer planets and asked them to
inform their neighbors in the same way. We'd soon have an expanding
circle that he _couldn't_ slip through."
The Director smiled wryly. "Maybe. But who's going to pay for all this.
By the time the circle was a thousand light-years in diameter there
would be ten thousand ships and a million clerks working on recapturing
one escaped prisoner. Another thing; I don't know offhand what he's been
sentenced for, but I'll wager there are ten thousand planets on which
his crime would not be a crime. Do you think we could ever extradite him
from such a planet? And even if by some incredible stroke of fortune one
of our agents happened to land on the right planet, in which city would
he begin his search. Or suppose our quarry lands only on uninhabited
planets? We can't very well alert the whole galaxy in the search for
just one man."
"I know, but--"
"But what?" interrupted the Director. "Any other suggestions?"
"N ... no--"
"All right, he asked for it. You have the pattern, I presume. _Feed it
to Fido!_"
"Yes, sir, but well ... I just don't--"
"Do you think _I_ like it?" asked the Director, fiercely.
In the silence that followed, they looked at each other, guiltily.
"There's nothing else we can do," said the Director. "The orders are
explicit. _No one escapes from Hades!_"
"I know," replied the biophysicist. "I'm not blaming you. Only I wish
someone else had my job."
"Well," said the Director, heavily. "You might as well get started." He
nodded his head in dismissal.
As the biophysicist went out the door, the Director looked down once
more at the pile of papers before him. He pulled the top sheet closer,
and rubber-stamped across its face--CASE CLOSED.
"Yes," he mused aloud. "Closed for us, but--" He hesitated a moment, and
then sighing once more, signed his name in the space provided.
* * * * *