Kresh gave Donald a quizzical look. “My imagination works a lot like yours,” he said. He turned to Fredda. “Donald’s good example to the contrary,” he said, “I don’t think I’ve ever been in a situation where robots have done so much to make my job difficult. To make everyone’s job difficult.”
“That’s what you get when you try and take risks, even necessary risks, around robots,” Fredda said. “I think the real story is that none of us have ever really tried to take risks before.”
“And robots don’t like risks,” said Kresh. “They’re going to keep us all so safe they’re going to get us all killed. Sooner or later we’re going to have to-”
“Excuse me, Governor,” said Donald. “The Residence security system has alerted me via hyperwave that an aircar is landing in the visitor’s parking area.”
“Who the devil has found me here?” Kresh muttered.
“It could just be some tourist who wants to get a look at the Winter Residence,” Fredda said.
“Not with our luck,” he said, getting up. He crossed the room and sat down at the comm center. He punched in the proper commands, and brought up the view from the main entrance security cameras. There was the car, all right. And someone getting out. Kresh zoomed in on the figure, pulled in to a tight head-and-shoulders shot, and set the system to track the shot automatically. It was a man, his back to the camera as he climbed out of his armored long-range aircar. He turned around, and looked straight toward the concealed surveillance camera, as if he knew exactly where it was. He smiled and waved…
“What the devil is he doing here?” Kresh muttered to himself.
“Who is it?” Fredda asked, coming up to stand behind her husband.
“Gildern,” said Kresh. “Jadelo Gildern. The Ironhead chief of security.” He frowned at the image on the screen. “He’s no tourist come to get a look at the place. He knows we’re here. I think you’d better go let him in, Donald. Bring him to the library. We’ll wait for him there.”
“Yes sir,” said Donald.
“What does he want?” Fredda asked. “Why is he here?”
Kresh shut off the comm system and stood up. “From what I know of Gildern, there’s only one thing he ever wants,” he said. “What he wants is a better deal for Jadelo Gildern.”
“GOOD EVENING. MASTER Gildern,” said the short blue robot who met him at the door. “The Governor has ordered me to escort you to him.”
Gildern nodded curtly. Others might waste their time in courtesy to robots, but Ironheads did not. Besides, he had other things on his mind. It would be best for all concerned if this interview went very quickly indeed. There were unquestionably risks in the game he was playing, and he saw no benefit at all in making those risks greater. The blue robot. Donald 111. That was its name. Built by Leving herself, and Kresh’s personal assistant since he was sheriff. Deliberately designed to seem unthreatening. Frequently underestimated. Gildern smiled to himself. He often found it calming to remember just how much he had in his dossiers.
The robot led them through a large central court and down a corridor leading off to the right, then stopped at the fourth of a series of identical doors. Gildern had memorized the layout of the Residence on the flight down. This was the library.
The robot opened the door and Gildern stepped inside behind him. And there were Kresh and Leving themselves. Both here, precisely as he had guessed. Kresh seated behind a desk, Leving sitting in one of the two chair facing the desk.
“Jadelo Gildern of the Ironheads,” the robot announced, and backed away into a robot niche.
“Governor, Dr. Leving,” said Gildern. “Thank you so much for allowing me to arrive so-informally. I think you will find it to our mutual benefit if this visit is kept as quiet as possible.”
“What do you want, Mr. Gildern?” the governor asked, his voice calm and imperturbable.
Gildern walked up to the desk, made the slightest of bows to Dr. Leving, and smiled at Kresh. “I’m here to give you a present, Governor. Something you’ve wanted for quite some time.”
“And in return?” Kresh asked, his voice and face still hard and expressionless.
“And in return, I simply ask that you do not ask, now or in the future, how I got it. No investigation, no inquiry, no official legal proceedings or private researching.”
“You got it illegally,” Kresh said.
“My condition is that you do not ask such questions.”
“Just now I made a statement,” said Kresh. “I asked no question. And I’m not accepting any conditions. I’m sworn to uphold the law, as you may recall. And I might add that it is generally unwise to request an illegal service of a government official in front of witnesses. “ He nodded toward Leving and the robot in its niche.
Gildern hesitated. It wasn’t supposed to have played this way. He had planned on being able to bully Kresh, get what he wanted. But the man had called his bluff. Gildern needed Kresh to have the material, as much as Kresh needed to have it. All of the Ironhead plans, all of Gildern’s plans, would otherwise crumble. Gildern realized that he had made a serious miscalculation. He was too used to working in a world of people who could be coerced, manipulated, led, and blackmailed. He had assumed Kresh would be equally pliable. But Kresh was an ex-police chief who handled cases personally when he saw fit. What reason would he have to be cowed by Gildern? “I don’t want any questions asked,” he said again, in a tone of voice that even he found less than commanding.
“Then I suggest you take your business elsewhere,” said Kresh. “I have had a hard enough couple of days without being threatened and blackmailed by the likes of you. Get out.”
A flash of anger played over Gildern. He opened his mouth to protest, and, then thought better of it. He could play this with his pride, his ego, and lose everything. Or he could play it with his common sense and win it all. And then, later, once he had won, won it all, he would be in a position to indulge his pride. “Very well,” he said. “No conditions.” He pulled a small blue cube out of the pocket of his blouse and set it on the table. “Take it with my compliments.”
He bowed once more to Dr. Leving, turned and headed toward the door.
“Wait!” Dr. Leving called out. “What is it? What’s in that datacube?”
Gildern looked back toward her with genuine surprise. “You haven’t figured that out? I expect your husband has.”
“It took me a minute, but I have,” said Kresh. “Lentrall told me there were two break-ins at his lab. One to steal copies of his data, and the other to destroy the originals. I should have figured it out long ago. Lucky for you I didn’t.”
“Will one of you tell me?” Fredda demanded. “What’s in that thing?”
Gildern smiled unpleasantly at her. “Why, Comet Grieg, of course. All of Dr. Lentrall’s calculations and data regarding its location, trajectory, mass, and so on. It’s all there.” He looked from Leving to Kresh and nodded his head at the governor. “Now, then, if you’ll excuse me, I must leave at once. I’m expected at some little town called Depot in the middle of the Utopia region. There’s no suborbital service from here. I’m going to have to fly in a long-range aircar, and it is going to be a very long flight indeed.”
Kresh picked up the cube and smiled coldly at Gildern. “See our friend out, Donald,” he said. “I have a speech to prepare.”
“I look forward to hearing it, Governor,” Gildern said. And with that, he followed the small blue robot out of the room.
LANCON-03 PLACED THE call to Anshaw as soon as Governor Alvar Kresh had completed his speech, in which Kresh had just confirmed that the government was working on the comet project, and that the Utopia region was the target. Lacon-03 knew perfectly well that there was little Gubber Anshaw could do, but on the other hand, the New Law robots had precious few friends, and now was the moment when they would need all the help they could get.