“I wasn’t born, either,” said Holmes softly. “I was created this way… what’s to be proud of?”
“A clone cannot surpass the original, and that’s an axiom,” persisted Morrison. “Does that mean that Peter Valke was a genius violinist? You shouldn’t… you shouldn’t demean your own talent…”
“I am a detective.” Holmes shook his head. “I’m a detective who loves playing the violin. I’m happy to see you all here, my friends. Today we must resolve the sad problem that precipitated my coming to this ship. Please, be seated.”
His words seemed to have an effect. Alex watched as every one of his crew found a seat. Generalov, Lourier, Morrison on one small couch. Kim and Janet on the other. Across from them, C-the-Third and the Zzygou sat in two armchairs, as did Holmes and Watson. And Dr. Watson, for the first time, ignored her habit of sitting on an armrest.
Alex unhurriedly took a seat between Janet and Kim. After a moment’s reflection, he threw his arms around both women’s shoulders.
“So…” said Holmes pensively. “First of all, I have a few things to tell you, which aren’t directly related to this case. The Imperial Council has made the decision… and it has already been signed by the Emperor… that in case of a massive-scale military conflict, the isolation field will be taken off the planet Eben. And after that, the Empire will make a direct plea for help to the Board of Cardinals. Ms. Janet Ruello…”
The woman started. Her face was tense with a mixture of both joy and alarm.
“Do you suppose Eben will answer the call for aid?”
“Yes,” replied the black woman, without hesitation. “No doubt, they will.”
“Thank you… Lady Sey-Zo, do the ruling females of the Swarm comprehend this situation?”
“It change nothing…” the Zzygou whispered.
“I believe you. And one more piece of news… a small one. The Sky Tourism Company is undergoing bankruptcy proceedings. All of its assets will be redirected to an aid fund for war victims. I am afraid, ladies and gentlemen, that you are unemployed.”
“This is just my luck!” cried Generalov, throwing his hands up. “It’s always this way! Just when I find a decent job and a good crew—”
The navigator fell silent, glaring at Holmes, as though the detective was responsible for the decision to liquidate the company.
“Am I supposed to resign my commission officially?” Alex asked.
“As soon as the investigation is closed.”
Alex nodded.
“And now let’s move on to the most grievous question,” said Holmes. “By the way, Captain… could you assist me with the issue of the listeners’ attention?”
It took Alex a few seconds to understand the request.
“Yes, of course. Computer! Captain’s access! Prepare the recreation lounge for dynamic maneuvers!”
“Completed…” replied the service program. Little orange lights flashed on the armrests of chairs and couches. Outwardly, nothing seemed to have changed, but when Alex tested it by attempting to half-rise from his seat, an invisible strip of force field softly tossed him back onto the couch. The Zzygou lifted her hands to touch the invisible barrier. Threw a questioning look at Alex.
“I hope nobody minds these little safety precautions?” Holmes inquired, and laughed dryly. “But of course, someone does mind. Well, nothing to be done.”
He took out his pipe and began to fill it. Alex, after a brief hesitation, lit up a cigarette. Slow movements were easy to make, though you could still feel the firm resistance of the force field.
“This is ridiculous! And useless, too!” said Generalov nervously. “I don’t know about you, Mr. Holmes, but I get really irritated by any restriction of my freedom of movement!”
“A killer-spesh is a good reason for force barriers,” said Lourier. “Puck… don’t argue. Holmes will only consider it incriminating.”
Holmes let out the first puff of smoke.
“So, what do we have, ladies and gentlemen? A group of criminals—one person simply couldn’t have pulled this off—has set the goal of instigating a war between the Empire and the Zzygou Swarm. To achieve this, a crew was gathered whose every member could kill Princess Zey-So. And the preparations, mind you, must have began at least five months ago. That is the precise time when Alex Romanov was badly wounded and left on the planet where Zey-So and Sey-Zo were to transfer to a human ship. I believe everyone here will be interested in the fact that the hospital staff received a hefty bribe for making Alex Romanov’s treatment a month and a half longer than necessary.”
Alex nodded. It was easy for him to believe that.
“This was serious preparation,” said Holmes, without a hint of humor. “Very thorough. Lady Sey-Zo, when did you make the decision to tour the Human Empire?”
The Zzygou heaved a deep sigh.
“Eighteenth day of January, by Earth calendar. During the diplomatic visit of the Imperial Council delegation to the Zzygou realm.”
“I… was wounded on the twenty-seventh of January,” Alex said.
“Nine days. Very speedy work.” Holmes nodded. “The choice was probably made from among all the astronauts who were on Quicksilver Pit or on the ships that had entered planetary space. You were unlucky, Alex. That is a fact. Unfortunately, that doesn’t guarantee that you were not a part of the plot. You could have landed in the hospital willingly….”
“Holmes, have you any idea what it’s like to be deprived of your rump, member, and legs for months on end?” asked Alex angrily.
“To a degree. I lost both my legs once,” rejoined Holmes imperturbably. “And I had to use mechanical prostheses for a month—there was no time to go to the clinic for transplants.”
Alex involuntarily looked away. Everyone else also seemed rather uncomfortable. Holmes had admitted this unsavory and shameful detail of his biography—using mechanical artificial organs—with the genuine fortitude of a detective-spesh. But still, it was awkward for all of them to hear him admit it.
“But I must consider every possibility, including that of a selfless perpetrator,” Holmes continued. “So, the scope of this operation allows us to definitely speak of the existence of a powerful, far-flung organization that has money, connections, and highly qualified agents… and is interested in war.”
“The military, after all?” asked Morrison.
“The military alone would not win the war against the Zzygou. And to free Eben would mean a complete restructuring of the military, reassigning all the command posts… no. The military didn’t want war. The generals might have been dreaming of a fast conflict resulting in immediate victory, but not of such a shake-up of the very foundations. The Ebenian natives? There aren’t that many of them, after all. They are scattered all over the galaxy, they are being monitored, and they don’t have access to the highest power echelons. What does that leave us?”
“Imperial Security!” cried Janet. It seemed she, too, was enthralled by the investigation process.
“Exactly. That is the organization that almost completely lost its influence after the power of the Emperor weakened and the colonies received their federal status.” Holmes nodded. “The interests of Imperial Security do not just allow for, but demand, a military conflict, increasing tension, and the implementation of a special governing regime in the Empire.”
“We have an Imperial agent-spesh among us!” said Morrison, almost cheerily. “Wow! Ever since I was a kid, I’ve always dreamed of seeing a secret operation hero!”
“Your dream has already come true,” said Holmes dryly. “Let us continue… Lady Sey-Zo, does my assumption seem logical to you?”
The Zzygou frowned.
“You are blaming your own security service for what happened? Then it is act of state terrorism, and war is unavoidable.”