Wallinchky spat. “A damned telepath. Well, there ain’t a telepath I haven’t jammed, and you’re pretty set there as well. Beta! Have the Kharkovs fitted with A and K band telepathic scramblers. Make ’em get a warrant and haul somebody in to get anything more than surface pleasantries.”
“It has been anticipated and already installed, Master,” Beta told him.
That seemed to bring the big man up short for a moment. He tried to decide if he liked that or not, finally decided that it just showed the kind of anticipation of his wishes he told them he demanded, and let it go. “What about the final treatment for you and Alpha?”
“It can be done today, Master.”
“Then do it, and let me see the result when it’s ready. Go ahead now.”
She bowed, and made for the medlab, as Alpha, waiting just outside, did the same.
“What’s that about?” Ari asked him.
“One final piece of insurance. I’m presenting them as androids.”
“Isn’t that illegal? Androids in the shape of a known race?”
“Not if they’re properly identified as such for all to see. Not much sense in making them, but so long as responsibility lies with the owner, it hardly matters. Remember, androids are considered computers, just like more conventional robots.”
Later that day, when they were determining that all was in readiness for a brief inspection and deciding exactly what to say, the two came back. Each now had a Regulus Corporation flat hologram embossed, appearing permanently as part of their foreheads. Regulus was the holding company Ari technically worked for, and it was wholly owned by Jules Wallinchky. The entire skin area, in white and bright red, was now dyed uniformly, and the design was abstract yet somewhat erotic. The skin, even on the faces, seemed to have the same sort of consistency as the artificial limbs and continue from them, as if they were essentially made of the same stuff all over. It was quite an effect. What caught Ari’s eye, though, were two very glaring differences.
Although not the same height, the two of them seemed much closer than they had. And they seemed to have no vaginal and rectal cavities, only model-like semblances representing them.
“You neutered them?” Ari said, appalled.
Wallinchky laughed and lit a cigar. “No. It’s really a suit that just looks like that.”
“And the height?”
“That’s even easier. Both the arms and legs can have all sensation switched off, then they lie down in the molds and the things are recast. About seven and a half centimeters less leg but still proportional and Alpha comes down to a less noticeable height. Add five to Beta, and she comes up close to Alpha. The arms we adjusted proportionally, and I added a great deal of inner support and heavy motor as well, now that they’re mine, all mine. They’re now about the fastest runners and strongest women you ever did meet. The skin sheen on the face and neck is a gel that sets like that and is used by actors in Kalachian theater, which basically is stylized and makes everybody look artificial anyway. Both the body suit and the gel are porous, so there’s no threat of suffocation or anything like that. Gives a nice effect, and the holograms make ’em legal.”
Ari went over and ran his finger down Alpha’s neck and then across her cheek. She didn’t move or seem to notice. It all felt… well, kind of rubbery, but while the effect was dramatic, the stuff was very thin.
Their voices had also been retuned—a simple command, Wallinchky told Ari. Female, but very deep and now with an ever so slight reverb that gave them a slightly mechanical sound. It was clear that Jules had thought this out closely, and also that he was thinking of taking them on the road. It would have been easier to just hide them out on the surface someplace. This wasn’t merely to fool the Inspector—this was a test of whether or not they were viable beyond housemaids here on Grabant.
“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.”