The Sea is Full of Stars

“They can exist outside of the control of this computer?”

“Sure. They’re gonna be perfect. The ideal aide, confidante, and bodyguard. Smart, obedient, devoted, strong, and programmable—all the best of people and computers.”

“Master,” Alpha interrupted. “The Inspectorate’s ship is in orbit and requesting final clearance.”

“Give it,” he told them. “Come on, you two—and you, too, Ari. Let’s go meet the coppers.”

In the back of his mind, like somebody turning on a music player, Ari could hear an incessant little tune of no consequence but with a series of notes and a refrain you couldn’t get out of your head once you heard it. The little neuromachines were kicking in at the point and on the wavelengths that a telepath, even a strong telepath, used. You weren’t supposed to be able to do this legally, but the Realm never enforced it and it was only affordable to the very powerful.

Ari, for one, wanted to see what a Genghis O’Leary would look like.

There were two passengers on the shuttle, as expected. The foursome watched them emerge on a screen above the airlock, so they could get an advance look at their unwelcome visitors. One was a huge man—not fat, but a giant, well over two meters, with shoulders that seemed enormous as well and a big barrel chest. Nothing was wasted on him; it was all tight as a drum. His head was either shaved or naturally barren, but he had eyebrows thicker than many people’s hair and a huge walrus-style mustache, both natural flaming red in color. Dressed as he was in colorful clothing, including a flamboyant red-lined cape, in earlier centuries he might have been taken for a professional wrestler. He definitely didn’t look like Sherlock Holmes or the administrative type, either, but his square jaw and almond eyes nonetheless fit a man who might be named Genghis O’Leary.

Beta looked over at Wallinchky. “Master, this large man is very dangerous. He is a master of arcane fighting skills and also very powerful, but he is a Doctor of Forensic Science and is known to possess as close to a true photographic memory as is known to be possible.”

“You know that mountain?” Jules Wallinchky responded, a bit awed at the sight himself.

“Master, yes. He was a teacher in the Realm Police Academy.”

“Interesting. But the name wasn’t one you recognized?”

“Master, names were not used for the teachers, lest they be compromised for later police work. Students nicknamed him ‘Doctor Big.’ ”

“Would you kill him if I asked you to?”

“Of course, Master,” she responded without a moment’s pause, almost as if she were hurt that he’d question her devotion. He liked that.

“Well, don’t unless I do ask you, or my life or liberty are at stake. Say nothing and don’t betray that you have ever known him. Do you recognize the other one?”

“No, Master.”

The other one was more normal-sized, much detail concealed in a long robe and by a gauze mask and integrated hood, so nothing at all of the face could be recognized, not even the gender.

“Master, the other is not a telepath. I am sensitive to the bands,” Alpha told him. “The subject is, however, attempting to conceal something from us.”

That much was obvious. “Male or female?”

“Male, Master,” Beta answered. “His walk betrays him.”

“Analysis?” They were getting close to the airlock and time was running out.

Beta didn’t hesitate; she had all of Ming’s old skills and memories available from Core, and Core’s speed of thought. “Master, the large one is obviously here because with his mind he knows original Beta and can recognize her. It is probable that the other knows original Alpha and they are disguising him until after identification is made. Recommend both units not meet them.”

Wallinchky thought it over, but as the airlock hissed and the lens twirled to reveal the newcomers, he said, “No, let’s play their game.”

The big man had to bend down slightly to get into the area through the portal, but he straightened into almost military bearing once he did so, and his eyes took in all four as if examining four suspects in a terrorist raid, missing no detail. He clicked his heels and gave a slight bow. “I am Inspector O’Leary. My associate is Brother Bakhtar, who is along to assist me in some specialized examinations. He doesn’t talk much and has religious beliefs that prohibit him showing his face to strangers, but he’s a great aid to me. I know that you are Jules Wallinchky, and that this is your nephew, Ari Martinez. The ladies…?”

“Are not quite ladies,” Jules responded with a smile. “Androids, Inspector, linked directly to the central computer that is the god of this whole complex. I find it useful to have some humanoid units around the place, since we’re mostly containing and restoring great classic art here. Later on I can introduce you to the Kharkovs and they can show you what the work is here. They are known throughout the Realm as experts.”

“Androids. Fascinating. They are so very humanlike.” He sighed. “Well, can we go someplace more comfortable and sit down and talk?”

Wallinchky nodded and smiled. His uncle was quite smooth, but Ari Martinez knew that neither O’Leary nor he could mistake the tension in his own body language. It was disappointing; he was usually a better actor than this.

They went into the study. Wallinchky said to Alpha, “Bring us some good wine and some decent munchies. Beta, help her out.”

They both bowed and scampered out.

The huge inspector sank down into a padded chair, and the chair seemed almost to collapse from his bulk. “I hope I don’t kill your furniture,” he said apologetically. “I was born and raised on a rather high gravity world, and thanks to adaptation genetics I am, I’m afraid, a bit… well, dense.” It was supposed to be a joke, even though probably true, and he smiled as he said it.

Brother Bakhtar, still a jumble of dark brown, sat comfortably in another chair. He wore brown boots and high socks, surgical-type gloves, and not a single part of him that was real showed.

“Just what is all this about, Inspector?” Jules Wallinchky asked him. “I am a busy man—in fact, I planned to leave here later today. My art collection is very well known, and precisely cataloged. This part here is usually not seen by most people in this setting, but it’s loaned to museums and on special occasions piecemeal, and a holographic walkthrough is available to anyone who wishes it. In other words, I have the receipts for them.”

The Inspector chuckled. “I’m not involved in that sort of work in any event,” O’Leary assured him. “Right now I am operational director of Internal Security and work directly under the Ministry of the Interior.”

“I’ve been accused of just about every crime in the book, as you may know,” Jules Wallinchky admitted, “but never has anybody accused me of treason. Many of my companies do business with the military, as you well know. I’d be a fool to risk all that I have—and for what? It was the Realm that made all this possible!”

The two “androids” returned with trays, served drinks to each of them and then offered trays of hors d’oeuvres around before taking position on either side of the doorlike guards, although if anyone needed a refill, they were quick to move to offer it.

Both Jules and Ari noted that it wasn’t above Brother Bakhtar to drink wine, although the glass was moved up under that mask and little was revealed. Wallinchky could hardly wait to get to a computer terminal alone and see what the probes revealed about the mystery man.

“No one has accused you of treason,” the Inspector assured him. “However, the City of Modar was struck by a known and powerful Enemy of the Realm, Josich Hadun— or, at least, it was under his orders. Two of his family members were in the saltwater section traveling under assumed names. We assume they were in charge of murdering the Captain and coordinating the whole thing. There is no question of the perpetrators. The question is, rather, why.”

“We gave our statements, Inspector. We were just happy to escape with our lives. I gather this Hadun doesn’t usually feel so generous.”

“Not without an ulterior motive, no. That’s one of the reasons why I’m here. The other concerns some subsequent events since that you almost certainly would not yet be aware of.”

“Yes?” Jules Wallinchky didn’t like this. Information was constantly coming in to him wherever he was, but with the vast distances of space, it was always quite a bit behind, which didn’t stop him from not liking