“Okay then. What other crimes can I think of?” He paused to take a bite from a smoked sausage which tasted vaguely of Doku. “I know, supposing I take a fancy to your wife, if you had one, and have an affair with her behind your back, and then she says she wants to leave you for me?”
“If she wanted to have an affair, it would be because I was inadequate in some way, and she would be quite within her rights. It would encourage me to improve my behaviour. If she was a decent woman, and why would I marry anyone else, she would tell me I was inadequate and give me the option to improve.”
“Supposing I was too ugly or inadequate in some way to have a woman, and abducted one?”
“You would not need to; the state provides an adequate supply of women, men, beasts or objects to satisfy all desires, all working for the same reasons as Maria does…”
“Just suppose I did?”
Ludwig looked at his with puzzlement. “I cannot see that the occasion would ever arise.”
“All right then, what about dropping litter when you are out. Surely there must be laws about that?”
“We do not drop litter. You may have noticed that there are no bins about?”
“Not really.”
“This is because we take all our food and ‘ear-cigar’ wrappings home with us and dispose of them in the material surplus sewers. We get credits for recycling, and everything we buy is recorded both in and out.”
“And if they don’t match?”
“All wrappings are bio-degradable anyway. It only takes a little longer.”
“I’m amazed.”
“And the savings we make from not needing police, lawyers, parking attendants, councils, politicians, rubbish collection, auditors, speed traps—there are no speed limits anywhere on the planet—and all other symbols of so-called civilisation are ploughed into health care, recycling and infrastructure.”
“So what about the planet’s resources? Surely someone would want to take those?”
“We have no resources other than water and silicon, and the air that we breathe of course, which is also processed via the vegetation and the biological recycling plants.”
“And the water?”
“We could export it, but the cost of transport is too great.”
The Magus gave a low whistle. “I see why this place is such an attractive destination now.”
“Of course, we don’t allow anyone in. The Smorgs for example would be difficult to deal with.”
“Yes, I can imagine their lust for regular supplies of blood from living creatures would be a problem.”
“And the ‘Ovis’ people from ‘Aries’—their young are obsessive gamblers.”
“So I’ve heard. So the women must be free here?”
“Free, in the sense that there are many who work here who enjoy doing it for money.”
“What about disease though?” The Magus was remembering his first meeting with Rannie.
“People are screened as they arrive, and get sent straight to the hospitals for decontamination, so everyone is happy.”
“If they have the money…”
“They wouldn’t be here if they didn't. Once we have raised the entry fee, we holidaymakers can relax, or do anything else that we like.”
The Magus leaned back in his chair and took a large gulp of Williwater. He burped. “I’m sorry.”
“Do not be sorry. Willi never loses its fizziness or its coolness. That is another of its attractions.”
“So, all in all, the planet is a perfect hideaway for any sort of illegal operation?”
“Not illegal here, my old friend, but I think we should retire to the upstairs smoking room and have a Schnapps on the balcony while we watch the sun go down; leave your investigations until tomorrow. Come, I will lead the way.”
“Schnapps, an excellent idea,” said the Magus, pouring the remains of his drink into a potted palm.
* * *
Maria was busying about his bedroom when the Magus finally came out of his drunken sleep. He felt his head. It was not thumping, and the world was not going around as it would have been after a similar session at his Glenforbis home.
“I’m glad you are up, sir. I need to turn down the bed,” she said.
“Why, did it make an indecent proposal?”
“Sorry sir?”
“Nothing. Did that car turn up?”
“Yes, sir. I’ve parked it outside.”
“Very nice.” The Magus stared out the window at the limousine.
“Thank you sir. It’s going to be a lovely day. There’s a shower of rain scheduled for 3pm if you are going to be out at that time. Most people will be relaxing by their pools by then, or on the beach, so they find it most refreshing.”
“I’ll bear that in mind.”
“I’ve laundered your detective’s hat too. Herr Gottstein ordered it shipped over. He said that proper investigators always have the correct headgear.”
“Very thoughtful.”
“Breakfast is served in the dining room if you would like to go down.”
* * *
After a hearty meal, the Magus climbed into his host’s sedan. Gottstein was wedged into the driving seat. “It seems to me to be smaller than when I bought it,” he complained. “I could get a bigger car, but I think I like this one very much. I will be sad when it wears out and I have to get a replacement.”
“It looks good,” agreed the Magus. “What does it run on?”
“Compressed hydrogen, which of course burns directly to water and controls the oxygen levels. Without cars, our air would be too oxygen-rich and give us headaches.”
“Very clever.”
“Anyway,” said the big man as the car pulled silently away from the house, “I will set the coordinates and let the car do the rest.” He leaned back and disconnected the steering, so that the wheel held his stomach in without it needing to turn and tickle him.
“Automatic,” said the Magus. “Very nice. I take it you can steer if you want to?”
“Of course, but one gets used to taking it easy. Now please enjoy the scenery.”
* * *
“Nearly there, my friend.”
“Can we stop here please; out of sight of the house?”
“But that would mean we have to walk. Why should we not go up to the door and ask?”
“That would alert our enemies, surely.”
“There is no crime possible, so why would the occupants want to hide anything?”
“Trust me on this one please.”
“You are the investigator; I bow to your advanced experience.” He tried to bow, but the steering wheel held him firmly in place.
* * *
The house was not over-stated, possibly four bedrooms, three receptions and two bathrooms, with an integrated double garage, and room for four more vehicles in the well-appointed driveway. They sneaked across the established formal gardens and ornamental fishpond, and approached a rear window. The room was empty and the rest of the house seemed deserted, so the Magus took out his glass-cutting kit and inscribed a circle near the window catch. He gave it a light tap, and the glass came away neatly, attached to the suction cup. He held his breath. No alarms sounded; nobody rushed into the room, spraying machine-gun bullets. He reached through the hole in the window and released the catches. It opened silently. He held his breath again; still no alarms, still no crazed giants wielding meat-axes. He removed the flower vase on the sill and gently eased himself through the gap. The door to the room opened. He froze. “Guten morgen.” The grinning face which greeted him was none other than that of his host.
“Ludwig, how did you do that?” Suspicion gnawed at him. He remembered the first rule of being an investigator—trust no-one.
“The back door was unlocked. I told you there is no crime here. Why would anyone bother to lock a door?”
“We could always steal stuff?”
“They could always get mo
re delivered.”
“Of course, silly me. Right, let’s see what we can find.”
Personal Death Insurance
T
here were no details of the assassination attempt on him in the popular press when Tom investigated. He called Errorcode back into the gym, and announced that Amber was to be his P.A. from now onwards. The aide was surprised. “A personal assistant, sir? Why would you need a P.A.?”
“I do need someone to take notes, do my mails, check out flights, arrange meetings and buy presents for my wife when I forget to do it myself. By the way, do I have a wife?”
“Have you forgotten, sir?”
“The shock of that blackout and attack has left me a bit disorientated. The memories are coming back slowly though. Humour me for a while.”
“Yes, sir, you do have a wife. Would you like me to call her for you?”
“What would you call her?”
Errorcode looked blank.
“I won’t need you to,” continued Tom, still wondering who he was married to. “That’s what a P.A. is for.”
“By that definition, sir, we are all your P.A.s.”
“You’re very kind, but I would like only one P.A., and Amber is the one I choose. I’ve already set her up a logon account and requested the correct levels of access.”
Errorcode fidgeted. “Ah. I think she left the plane, sir.”
“What? We haven’t landed yet. What have you done to her?”
“There was that matter of her letting the assassin get to you…”
Tom’s face went purple. “You had better get her back, right now, or I will see to it that you follow her.”
The aide stepped backwards in shock. “Sir? You have never bothered with the staff before. We always deal with incompetence, or a score of 2 in the PDP, that way.”
“Maybe that blackout has brought me back to my senses. Get her here now, or I’ll throw you off the plane myself!”
“Yes sir.” The weasely face briefly twisted into a mask of venom, but quickly changed back. “I think I may be able to catch her before she jumps.”
“You’d better.” Tom’s threat was one he fully intended to carry out. Errorcode scurried from the observation deck, his face red with panic.
A few minutes later, the door opened and a dishevelled Amber came slowly into the room. Tom put his arm round her shaking shoulders. “What happened?”
“That man told me my services were no longer required. He said there would be an action plan.”
“Go on. Tell me everything.”
Amber took a deep breath and the full story rattled out. “He shut me in the airlock and told me that it was a punishment for leaving you when I was told to stay. There was no future for me anywhere now; he would see to that. The best thing I could do was jump. He said it would be quick. I opened the hatch, but it was a very long way down; I couldn’t do it. When he came back, I thought he was going to push me out, but he said that you wanted to see me instead. He didn’t look happy.”
“No, I expect not.”
“Why did you want to see me, sir?” She broke out of his grip and stood in front of him with her hands behind her back and her toes together, and her eyes cast to the floor. “I’m not that sort of girl, you know. If you think I am, I’ll go back to the airlock.”
“I wouldn’t be offering you the job as my P.A. if you were that sort of a girl. Now sit down and let’s sort this out.”
He caught her as she swooned.
Stiff drinks were called for, and quickly delivered by one of the other aides. “Where is Mr Errorcode?” Tom asked as he tried to force some of the liquid into Amber’s mouth.
“He sends his apologies, sir, but he is working on the presentation for Mr Nishi.”
“Good. No hard feeling then?”
“I am unaware of any, sir.”
“Right, now I have a new directive for you to share with the staff.”
“Yes, sir?”
“Amber here,” he indicated the coughing girl, “is my new P.A.…”
“But sir, you have never needed a P.A.… unless she is a…”
“No, she isn’t. I need someone to be at my side all the time…”
“But you have us, sir.”
“I do, and I’m eternally grateful, but I need someone I can share day to day working with.”
“I see sir.”
“Yes, and as you are all concerned for my safety…”
“Absolutely, sir.”
“I have already created a new ruling…”
“That is very impressive, sir.”
“You haven’t heard what it is, yet.”
“No, sir, but I’m sure it will be well-respected, and make a major contribution to the values and longevity of our organisation.”
“It will, to my longevity and that of my P.A..”
“Sorry, sir?”
“Yes, I have lodged the directive with the Auditors that if either I or Amber were to die for any reason, then my entire staff is to be burnt to death on the funeral pyre.”
The aide swallowed hard. “What about natural causes, sir?”
“Especially natural causes! I am aware that there are some undetectable or slow poisons which can be used to kill people. There have already been attempts on my life, as you know.”
The aide’s face went white. He grabbed the drink from Tom’s hand before Amber could take another sip. “I think there is not quite enough Absinthe in it ma’am,” he said. “Allow me to get you a fresh one.” He was gone before Tom could say anything else. Almost immediately the door opened again and another man appeared with two fresh drinks.
“Here is your new drink, ma’am,” he said, placing it on the table beside her seat, “and one for you, sir.”
“I’m not thirsty now, thank you.”
“Sir,” the new aide looked worried, “it really is an excellent beverage, absolutely guaranteed to make you feel better. It is one of Mr Errorcode’s favourites…”
“Ah, if it is one of Mr Errorcode’s favourites, then who am I to argue.” Tom tasted the cocktail. It really was very good. He downed it in one gulp. “Thank you. Please give my compliments to Mr Errorcode and tell him I enjoyed it immensely and would like another.”
“It will be on its way, sir.”
Amber looked at him with a puzzled expression. “Beg pardon, sir, but what was all that about?”
“Oh nothing, a bit of life assurance, that’s all. Do you know, he was right? I do feel a lot better. I wonder if a dodgy drink was why I blacked out in the first place. Yes, that’ll be it. I understand now.” Tom realised that the reason he had switched bodies again into this new place was because his current body must have been poisoned. That was why his death had been sudden in the old location; the new body had become available and waiting for him. He smiled as he thought of all the plotting that had been going on amongst the staff to get rid of him coming to nothing. Errorcode must have been really annoyed, if he was behind it all. But who could he trust? No-one. This is why he felt comfortable with Amber at his side; she had no connections with anyone in the staff, and indeed they had tried to set her up for the clumsy attempt of his life when the poison had failed. Or did she have connections? Could this be another bluff? He looked sharply across at the wide honest blue eyes smiling at him over the foliage in her glass. He smiled back. I have to trust someone, he thought, and she would be included in the burning if anything happened to him. “Amber, could I get you to check the personnel records of my immediate staff please? You should have access.”
“Of course, sir. What am I looking for?”
“Anybody who resigns in the immediate future, or even doesn’t turn up for work. We can assume that the present staff will stay with the plane until it lands, but do make sure that everyone is accounted for…”
“Yes sir.” Amber opened the console beside her and tapped in her user name. She grimaced. “It is denying access to my personal
account.”
“I did fill in the on-line form and asked for you to have an account set up with permissions to match my own.” He paused. “On-line form. Who do we contact to grant those permissions?”
Amber tapped at the console. “I can log in anonymously, sir. Let me check.” Tom took a sip from his second cocktail and watched her fingers skipping nimbly over the keyboard. “Ah, I believe it has been outsourced, sir.”
“Any idea to whom?”
The fingers flew over the keys again. “The Nishant Corporation, sir.”
“Anything to do with the Mr Nishi we are meeting later on?”
“It says here that he owns it, sir.”
“So we have outsourced our security to a company with which we are to still to negotiate an outsourcing deal?”
“It does seem odd, sir.”
“Anyway, can your permissions be chased?”
“There is an on-line form to do that sir. It looks like a long one. Shall I try to fill it in?”
“It’s worth a go.” He watched her again and was not surprised when she sighed. “Apparently I have to have a valid username and password to activate the form.”
“So you can’t chase the setup of your account until you have an account set up?”
She shook her head. “Seems a bit stupid, sir.”
“Okay, pass me the console and I’ll put my credentials in. Oh, it’s blank.”
“Yes, sir, it erased all my details when it rejected my user name.”
“Okay, fill it in again for me, with my particulars. When you get to the authorisation section, pass it back.”
Five minutes later, the form was complete, and Tom carefully entered his user name and password. He watched the whirling SCT logo, indicating the system was processing, and then smiled.
“Sir?” Amber saw his expression.
He handed the screen back.
Amber read; “Sorry you are not authorised to view this information. Please enter the details of the user who requires the password reset.” She whimpered.
Tom grinned. “Tell you what, use my account, otherwise we’ll have to wait for the process to mature. I’ll log in for you.” He tapped in the password, added his thumbprint to the reader and spat into the DNA analysis tube. “Right, we are in,” he said, wiping his lips on a gold-bordered tissue from the dispenser. “Over to you. Enter this new decree. Ready?”
Into the Fourth Universe Page 7