The Wizard of Anharitte (16 page)

An hour after mid-day the unusual echo of horses’ hoofs clattered to the door of his chambers. The sound was rare because the great horses of Roget, fully as large as the ancient Terran dray-horses, were unpopular beasts on the crowded roads of the city. They had their place at the great provincial estates, but for town work they were used mainly by the civil powers as a symbol of authority. A message from Di Irons required Ren to join the cavalcade to the spaceport. The reins of the great saddled and bridled beast were flung toward him with the instruction that he was to mount.

Ren’s riding experience was little and the size of his steed was daunting. He said as much, but his protests were dismissed.

‘Then here’s your chance to learn, Agent. The prefect won’t wait.’

Somehow he managed to mount. He sat unhappily astride the great beast whose back seemed as broad and as warm as the bed Ren had vacated during the night. Having mastered the art of staying on top of the moving animal, he next faced the problem of control. He found himself assisted by the fact that me giant horse appeared to know exactly what was required of it in terms of destination and speed. It obediently followed the messenger and two others through the streets of Firsthill, out on to the Trade Road, down the slopes and on to the Via Arena.

The messenger rode hard, without pausing for further explanation. The fact that his escort rode mainly ahead of him led Ren to suspect that his presence was required for a constructive purpose, rather than a punitive one. They soon came in sight of the spaceport, from which, even in daylight, the bright flames from burning fuel tanks showed crimson under the vast columns of smoke.

Ren’s initial surprise at being conveyed in so unusual a manner was soon dispelled as he realized that carriage by the giant horses was certainly the fastest means of transport available. Although cushion-craft were able to produce a better turn of speed on the open stretch of the Via Arena, the slower working of the craft in the city gave ample advantage to horses. His present journey was accomplished in well under half an hour. Bruised and sore, Ren clung frantically to the saddle horn and only fell when he attempted to dismount.

Di Irons, looking fiercer and sterner than ever, waited for Ren to pick himself out of the dust, then strode away, indicating that the agent should follow. Ren followed painfully, wondering if his encounter with the horse had done something irrevocable to his legs. Their path took them broadly across the spaceport, most of which was obscured by wide trails of drifting smoke. The prefect stopped when finally they neared the number-five landing bowl where the Rance battle cruiser had been.

Ren caught his breath as the scale of the catastrophe became apparent. The tall ship had been totally demolished and the parts further shattered. Even the single components seemed destroyed. Only a very small part of the ship’s total mass was still evident. The rest of it had presumably been vaporized or dispersed over many thousands of meters of terrain. Even the nearly indestructible wolframic of the landing bowl was heavily cratered as though from a major war. The picture was one of violence multiplied by violence. It was a job most thoroughly done.

‘How did it happen?’ asked Ren.

Di Irons put on a thunderous scowl. ‘Pictor Don has a theory that the ship was toppled by an s.h.e. charge placed in the vicinity of one of the ship’s stabilizers. Her engines then exploded and that touched off her magazine. Unfortunately she was heavily overarmed and some of the later explosions took away a fair proportion of the spaceport buildings. I’ve no doubt we’ll be receiving a detailed account of the damage from the spaceport Disaster Control center in due course. That’s why I wanted you here. You’re going to give me an independent view of how it was done, who did it—and why it was necessary.’

‘Me? But I know nothing about it. I was asleep at the time.’

‘That’s no excuse,’ said Di Irons. ‘I’ll wager you know a great deal about it. Pretense will save you nothing. Let’s be in no doubt as to where you stand. In the past twenty-five hours I’ve uncovered sufficient facts about you and the activities with which you’ve been involved to have you declared
persona non grata
on just about every civilized planet in the universe. Not only that, but for default of various laws on Roget under Space Conventions I could encourage our government to make claim for damages that would not only bankrupt your Company but would cripple another half-dozen of their Free Trade associates.

‘Having warned you to follow the advice of your society on how to conduct a feud with the
Imaiz
, you have no conceivable defense for your actions. So do you now volunteer to answer my questions or do I have to break both you and the Company?’

‘What exactly do you want to know?’ asked Ren unhappily.

‘This battle cruiser—it must have carried enough armaments to start a major war. Was it put here by the Free Trade Council?’

‘No. It was donated by Rance, ostensibly as a technical backup facility. I don’t think the majority of the council was aware that it was anything else.’

‘So why did it possess a fully equipped war potential?’

‘It was one of Rance’s so-called “disaster ships”—though I’ve come to suspect that their function is to cause disasters, not to alleviate them.’

‘Didn’t you know of this when you asked for it?’

‘I didn’t ask for it. It just arrived. When I found out what sort of equipment it carried, I complained to Director Vestevaal. He went immediately to Free Trade Central to demand its withdrawal.’

‘Hmm!’ Di Irons nodded thoughtfully. ‘And I take it that somebody couldn’t wait to see it go peacefully. Your friend the
Imaiz
, perhaps?’

‘I’ve no evidence,’ said Ren. ‘But he knew it for what it was and its demolition has a characteristic thoroughness.’

‘That’s agreed,’ said Di Irons, looking around at the widespread damage. ‘And in the circumstances I don’t think we shall hear. much from Rance about her loss, especially if Director Vestevaal’s already protesting about it at Free Trade Central. But more than the ship went here. A lot of highly valuable spaceport installation went with it. When the Galactic Spaceports commission learns of it, the repercussions are going to be grave. I’m going to be under pressure to produce some good answers. Frankly, I don’t have the expertise in outworld technology to produce those answers. But you do. And you’ve the additional advantage of knowing both the
Imaiz
and the pattern of life in Anharitte, neither of which an outworld investigator would know. Therefore I’m willing to strike a bargain with you.’

‘What sort of bargain?’

‘We both suspect it was the
Imaiz
who destroyed this ship. I want to know how much evidence against the
Imaiz
could be gathered by an outworld inquiry into the disaster.’

‘You choose your words most carefully, Prefect.’

‘In this instance I’ve a good reason to do so.’

‘And what have I to gain from the exercise?’

‘Give me some good answers, Ren, and I might forget to file any charges against yourself or the Company.’

‘I’ll willingly try, though your terms don’t give me much option. But I’ll need information. How cooperative can I expect to find the spaceport staff?’

‘They themselves’ are in default for permitting an armed warcraft to remain docked at their facility beyond the recognized refueling time. Therefore their careers are equally in my hands. I suspect you’ll find them very cooperative indeed.’

Pictor Don, the spaceport’s emergency commander, spread his hands resignedly.

‘I can assure you, Tito, that outside sabotage is quite out of the question. Nobody could have gotten through without detection. Because of the permanent danger to personnel around ’ the landing bowls, the whole area is monitored by radar. The radar overscan extends well beyond the spaceport perimeter. The computer constantly oversees all activity in the area and throws up alarm signals for any potentially dangerous or unusual event.’

‘What other defenses have you?’

‘Mainly the fences. The first and second fences form a corridor manned by a patrol with guard dogs. Then there’s an electrified fence inside that and the inner one’s a barbed barrier. It would take a very clever person indeed to get through that lot.’

‘We happen to suspect a very clever person. What I’m trying to establish is—did he indeed get through or was the blast an accident? What about the gates?’

‘Only two—both remotely controlled and responding only to the controller’s direct orders. He has to satisfy himself by computer verification of ident cards and the vision link that I the person asking for admission has the necessary authority to enter.’

‘And did he give clearance to anyone at a time reasonably close to the blowup?’

‘No. There were no admissions for at least four hours before the blowup occurred.’

‘Then it would have to be through the fence. Has the whole perimeter been checked?’

‘Electrical checks have been carried out. Nothing was found. Physical examination of all the wire on the perimeter will take a little time.’

‘Then let me have the answers as soon as you can,’ said Ren. ‘If somebody penetrated that fence, I want to know how. Did your radar scan tell you nothing?’

‘The watch computer signaled nothing unusual.’

‘How critical is the watch computer?’

‘Sufficient for normal purposes.’

‘But does it discriminate between different types of radar returns?’

‘Necessarily so. Frequently animals from the plains stray near to the outer fence and trigger a minor alert. Also some birds and small animals actually live out on the bowls. The computer has been programed to reject the movement of small creatures and to respond mainly to the approach of something the size of a cushion-craft or one of the tracked tenders.’

‘Then how does it function for personnel protection on the bowls?’

‘It’s spectrum filtered to give maximum response to metallic objects while remaining relatively insensitive to organics and nonmetals. Any crews working on the bowls will naturally be wearing thermo-reflective suits and these give a very good radar return.’

‘So it is possible for an unsuited man to have walked across the bowls without the computer’s classifying him as an object to be reported?’

‘It’s possible, but I see the point as rather academic. Nobody could damage a battle cruiser with less than about a hundred kilos of s.h.e. explosive. I’d seriously doubt that somebody broke the fence and carried that weight across the bowls on foot. Perhaps a trained man might do it—but I don’t believe it happened. I think they’d have had to use a vehicle—and if they’d done so the computer would have spotted it and sounded the alarm.’

‘Nevertheless,’ said Ren, ‘I’d like to know if there was anything on the radar scan below the computer’s indicating threshold. Do you tape a record?’

‘Of course.’ Pictor Don shrugged his shoulders. ‘I’ll have a replay set up in the operations room. If you want my opinion—it’s a waste of time.’

‘What are you looking for, Ren?’ The stern and thoughtful prefect was shadowing Ren closely, listening to every syllable of his investigation. ‘I’d have thought Don’s evidence that there was no penetration of the fences was pretty conclusive.’

‘Not conclusive enough. If it did happen we need to know now, not have it thrown up during some outworld inquiry. All defenders and all defense systems have blind spots. If someone has the wit and the ability to figure just where these blind spots are, they form a positive advantage to the attacker. A bit of ingenuity coupled with the right know-how should produce a method of attack the defenders won’t expect because they know it to be impossible. Our prime suspect in this case is a recognized master of impossible events and is also a considerable technician. I can’t see that dogs, a few wire fences and a radar scan need be any deterrent to the
Imaiz
.’

‘There’s been some talk of rockets,’ said Di Irons. ‘Couldn’t Dion have used one without having to penetrate the fence?’

‘He may well have the capability at Magda, but that wasn’t the way it was done. As I see the evidence, the ship was toppled, as you’ve already said, by an s.h.e. charge placed under a stabilizer. But that couldn’t in itself have initiated the entire chain of disasters that followed. Almost certainly the ship was toppled upon a further line of explosive charges, and the direction of the ship’s fall was calculated to insure that those charges would do the maximum damage. It was an exercise in fine mathematics, undertaken by someone who had a very clear idea of the working layout of such a battle cruiser.’

‘From which you conclude?’

‘That the operation was carried out by a competent outworlder—someone familiar with space constructions. And it would have taken time and careful measurement to place those charges accurately. Whoever did it must have worked on the bowl under cover of darkness and had a pretty shrewd idea at he would not be picked up by the radar monitor. That’s an assembly of knowledge and skills very difficult to match. I think that Dion must be a well-trained saboteur—in addition his other talents.’

Di Irons was not yet convinced.

‘If I understand Pictor Don correctly it would have taken at a hundred kilos of explosive just to topple the ship. If now saying that further charges were laid—they must up to a considerable extra weight of explosive. All this to be moved through the fence and brought across at least a kilometer of landing bowls—without detection.’

‘I know very little about explosives,’ said Ren. ‘But I’d doubt less than two hundred kilos of s.h.e. would have done the trick.’

‘And brought in without using a vehicle? Do you suppose they used mules or magic?’ The prefect was sarcastic.

‘I don’t know how it was done, but I’m willing to bet we’ll find a few answers on the below-threshold level of the radar records.’

The radar overscan, untrimmed by the computer, reflected considerable movement of wildlife outside the perimeter fence. The false alarms would have been continual had not spectrum filtering been employed. In contrast, the casual movements of spaceport personnel and vehicles were easily distinguishable by the heightened radar responses to the various metallic substances they carried. It was at about this level of discrimination that the computer operated.