Cartwright rejoined: "I don't consider that he broke his oath to you."
"You betrayed him," Shaeffer added.
Verrick grunted, retrieved his gun, and replaced it in his pocket. "We'll have to get advice on this," he murmured. "Let's try to get Judge Waring up here."
Judge Felix Waring, the highest ranking jurist in the system, was a grouchy, white-bearded gnome in a moth-eaten black suit and old-fashioned hat.
"I know who you are," he muttered, glancing at Cartwright. "And you, too." He nodded at Verrick. "That Pellig of yours was a fizzle, wasn't he?" He cackled gleefully. "I never liked the looks of him—didn't have a muscle in him."
The ship that had brought Judge Waring had disgorged newsmachines, Hill officials, Directorate bureaucrats, and finally Sam Oster. Ipvic technicians had come in their own ship; signalmen with reels of communication wiring wandered everywhere, stringing up television equipment. Towards the middle of the day the place became a hive of noisy, determined activity. Motion was everywhere, figures coming and going... Benteley stood in a corner, watching gloomily.
"It's nice, here," Rita O'Neill said, settling herself for a doze.
Benteley nodded, then muttered: "So Judge Waring is going to make his decision amid all this din?"
In another corner Leon Cartwright was talking with a barrel-chested, grim-faced man, Sam Oster was congratulating him on his successful bout with his first assassin.
Benteley gazed at them until they separated. Finally he turned—and found himself facing Eleanor Stevens.
"Who is she?" Eleanor asked in a clipped voice.
"Cartwright's niece," he answered, following her gaze.
She shrugged and started away suddenly; after a moment
Benteley followed. "They're about to start; they're going to let that stupid old goat decide," she went on.
"I know," Benteley said listlessly.
"He hardly knows what's going on. Verrick pulled the wool over his eyes at the Convention; he'll do it again. Has there been any news about Moore?"
"An Ipvic screen has been set up, for Cartwright's use. Verrick doesn't care; he didn't interfere."
"What does it show?"
"I don't know. I haven't bothered to look." Benteley came to a halt. Through a half-open door he had caught a glimpse of a table and chairs, ash-trays, recording instruments. "Is that——"
"That's the room they set up." Suddenly Eleanor gave a cry of terror. "Please get me out of here!"
Reese Verrick had moved past the door of the room.
"He knows—about us," Eleanor said as they pushed among the people. "I came to warn you——"
"Too bad!" Benteley said vaguely.
"Don't you care?"
"There's nothing I can do to Reese Verrick."
"You can kill him!" Her voice was shrill with hysteria. "Before he kills both of us!"
"No," Benteley said, "I'm not going to kill Reese Verrick. I'll wait and see what happens. In any case, I'm finished with that."
"And—with me?"
"You knew about the bomb."
Eleanor shuddered. "What could I do?" She hurried after him, frantic with apprehension. "Ted, I couldn't stop it, could I?"
"You knew that night when we were together. When you talked me into it."
"Yes!" Eleanor slid defiantly in front of him, blocking his way. "That's right." Her green eyes glittered wildly. "I knew. But I meant everything I said to you."
Benteley turned away, disgusted.
"Listen to me." She caught imploringly at his arm.
"Reese knew, too. Everybody knew. It couldn't be helped—somebody had to be in the Pellig body."
Benteley stepped back as a grumbling white-bearded little old man pushed angrily past him towards the antechamber. He disappeared inside the room and dropped his heavy book on the table with a thump. He blew his nose, moved critically about examining the chairs, and finally took a seat at the head of the table. Reese Verrick, standing at the window, exchanged a few words with him. A moment later Leon Cartwright followed after Judge Waring.
Benteley's heart resumed beating, slowly and reluctantly. The session was about to begin.
Chapter XIV
There were five people in the room.
Judge Waring sat at one end of the table. Leon Cartwright faced the massive figure of Reese Verrick, separated by two heaped ash-trays and a pitcher of ice water. Benteley and Major Shaeffer sat opposite each other at the low end of the table. The final chair was empty. Oster, the ipvic technicians, the Directorate officials, the Hill staff officers, had been barred.
Judge Waring glared suspiciously from Verrick to Cartwright and back to Verrick. "Is the recording business going?"
A recording technician crept agilely along the table and took up a position in front of Reese Verrick. "Thanks," Verrick said, as he collected his papers and prepared to begin.
"Is this the fellow?" Waring asked, indicating Benteley.
"He's the one I came for," Verrick said, with a brief glance at Benteley. "But he's not the only one. They're all breaking their oaths and betraying me." His voice trailed off, but he roused himself and quietly delivered his statement. "Benteley was dropped by Oiseau-Lyre. He came to me at Batavia looking for an eight-eight position; that's his class. Things were bad for me at that time but I took him on, in spite of my own uncertainty. I took him into my household, gave him a flat at A.G. Chemie."
Shaeffer shot a quick glance at Cartwright; he was ahead of Verrick's spoken words.
"I put him on my bio-chemist research staff. Fed him. Took care of him." Verrick raised his voice a trifle. "He was given a responsible position in my biggest project, at his own insistence. He stated that he wanted to get in on policy-level. I gave him what he asked. At the crucial moment he betrayed me. He killed his immediate superior, dropped his work, and fled. Too cowardly to go on, he broke his oath. The project collapsed because of him. He came here aboard a Directorate ship and tried to swear allegiance to the Quizmaster."
Verrick was silent. He had finished.
Benteley heard the words with a kind of dull surprise. Was that what had happened? Waring was looking at him curiously, waiting for him to speak. Benteley shrugged; he had nothing to say.
Cartwright spoke up. "What was Benteley's job in this project?"
Verrick hesitated. "He was doing substantially the same work as the other class eight-eight people."
"Was there any difference?"
Verrick was silent a moment. "Not that I can recall."
"That's a lie," Shaeffer said to Judge Waring. "He knows of a difference."
Verrick nodded reluctantly. "There was one difference," he admitted. "Benteley asked for and got the leading position. He would have taken the project to its final stage. He was trusted completely."
"What was that stage?" Judge Waring asked.
"Benteley's death," Cartwright answered.
Verrick didn't contradict him. He pretended to examine his papers until finally Judge Waring asked: "Is that true?"
Verrick nodded.
"Did Benteley know?" Judge Waring pressed.
"Not at first. It wasn't possible to make the information available to him immediately; he had just joined the staff. He betrayed me when he found out." Verrick gripped his papers convulsively. "He destroyed the project. They all deserted and let me down."
"Who else betrayed you?" Shaeffer asked curiously.
"Eleanor Stevens. Herb Moore."
"Oh," Shaeffer said. "I thought Moore was the man Benteley killed."