Tortha Karf looked sidewise at Verkan Vall. “Your girl has the makings of a cop, Vall,” he commented.
“She’s been a big help, on Esaron and Kholghoor Sectors,” Vall said. “She wants to stay with it and help me; I’ll be very glad to have her with me.”
Tortha Karf nodded. He knew, too, that Dalla wouldn’t want to have to go back to Home Timeline and wait the long investigation out.
“Of course; we can use all the help we can get. I think we can get a lot from Dalla. Fix her up with some kind of a title and police status—technical-expert, assistant, or something like that.” He clasped hands, man-fashion, with her. “Glad to have you on the cops with us, Dalla,” he said. Then he turned to Vall. “There was almost twenty-four hours between the time I heard about this and when this blasted Yandar Yadd got hold of the story. Of all the infernal, irresponsible—” He almost choked with indignation. “And it was another fourteen hours between the time Skordran sent in his report and I heard about it.”
“Golzan Doth sent in a report to his company about the same time Skordran Kirv made his first report to his Sector-Regional Subchief.” Vall mentioned.
“That might be it,” Tortha Karf considered. “I wish there were another explanation, because that implies a very extensive intelligence network, which means a big organization. But I’m afraid that’s it. I wish I could pull in everybody in Consolidated Outtime Foodstuffs who handled that report, and narco-hypnotize them. Of course, we can’t do things like that on Home Timeline, and with the political situation what it is now—”
“Why, what’s been happening, Chief?”
Tortha Karf swore with weary bitterness. “Salgath Trod’s what’s been happening. At first, after Yandar Yadd broke the story on the air, there was just a lot of unorganized Opposition sniping in Council; Salgath waited till the middle of the afternoon, when the Management members were beginning to rally, and took the floor. The Centrists and Right Moderates were trying the appeal-to-reason approach; that did as much good as trying to put out a Fifth Level forest fire with a hand-extinguisher. Finally. Salgath got a motion of censure against the Management recognized. That means a confidence vote in ten days. Salgath has a rabble of Leftists and dissident Centrists with him; I doubt if he can muster enough votes to overturn the Management, but it’s going to make things rough for us.”
“Which may be just the reason Salgath started this uproar,” Vall suggested.
“That,” Tortha Karf said, “is being considered; there is a discreet inquiry being made into Salgath Trod’s associates, his sources of income, and so on. Nothing has turned up as yet, but we have hopes.”
“I believe,” Vall said, “that we have a better chance right on Home Timeline than outtime.”
Tortha Karf looked up sharply. “So?” he asked.
Vall was stuffing tobacco into a pipe. “Yes. Chief. We have a big criminal organization—let’s call it the Slave Trust, for a convenience-label. The people who run it aren’t stupid. The fact that they’ve been shipping slaves to the Esaron Sector for ten years before we found out about it proves that. So does the speed with which they got rid of this Nebu-hin-Abenoz, right in front of a pair of our detectives. For that matter, so does the speed with which they moved in to exploit this Croutha invasion of Kholghoor Sector India.
“Well, I’ve studied illegal and subversive organizations all over paratime, and among the really successful ones, there are a few uniform principles. One is cellular organization—small groups, acting in isolation from one another, cooperating with other cells but ignorant of their composition. Another is the principle of no upward contact—leaders contacting their subordinates through contact-blocks and ignorant intermediaries. And another is a willingness to kill off anybody who looks like a potential betrayer or forced witness. The late Nebu-hin-Abenoz, for instance.
“I’ll be willing to bet that if we pick up some of these Wizard Traders, say, or a gang that’s selling slaves to some Nebu-hin-Abenoz personality on some other timeline, and narco-hypnotize them, all they’ll be able to do will be name a few immediate associates, and the group leader will know that he’s contacted from time to time by some stranger with orders, and that he can make emergency contacts only through some blind accommodation-address. The men who are running this are right on Home Timeline, many of them in positions of prominence, and if we can catch one of them and narco-hyp him, we can start a chain-reaction of disclosures all through this Slave Trust.”
“How are we going to get at these top men?” Tortha Karf wanted to know. “Advertise for them on telecast?”
“They’ll leave traces; they won’t be able to avoid it. I think, right now, that Salgath Trod is one of them. I think there are other prominent politicians, and business people. Look for irregularities and peculiarities in outtime currency-exchange transactions. For instance, to sections in Esaron Sector obus. Or big gold bullion transactions.”
“Yes. And if they have any really elaborate outtime bases, they’ll need equipment that can only be gotten on Home Timeline,” Tortha Karf added. “Paratemporal conveyer parts, and field-conductor mesh. You can’t just walk into a hardware store and buy that sort of thing.”
Dalla leaned forward to drop her cigarette ash into a tray.
“Try looking into the Bureau of Psychological Hygiene,” she suggested. “That’s where you’ll really strike it rich.”
Vall and Tortha Karf both turned abruptly and looked at her for an instant.
“Go on,”
