"Yes," Barris said. "I was in the hotel room. It came in through the window. The third person who was present is the one who has the thing now; I left it with her. And she not only can produce it, she can also verify my account."
"Whom was the attack aimed at?" Reynolds said.
At that point, Barris stopped abruptly. I've made a mistake. I am close to terrible risk; they almost have me.
"Was the hotel the Hotel Bond?" Reynolds asked, examining the papers before him. "And the woman was a Mrs. Rachel Pitt, wife of the recently deceased Unity man, Arthur Pitt. You were with her in this hotel room ... I believe the Hotel Bond is in rather a run-down part of the city, is it not? Isn't it a favorite place for men to take girls for purposes generally concealed from society?"
His blue eyes bored at Barris. "I understand that you met Mrs. Pitt in line of official business; her husband had been killed the day before, and you dropped by her house to express official sympathy. You next turn up with her in a seedy, fourth-rate flop house, here in Geneva. And where is she, now? Isn't it true that you had her taken to your region, to North America, that she is your mistress, this widow of a murdered Unity man? Of course she'll back up your story-after all, you have a sexual relationship going, a very useful one for her." He held papers up, waving them. "Mrs. Pitt has quite a reputation in Unity circles as an ambitious, scheming woman, one of those career wives who hitch their wagons to some rising star, in order to-"
"Shut up," Barris said.
Reynolds smiled.
He really has me, Barris realized. I must get off this topic or we are finished.
"And the third person," Reynolds said. "Whom the attack was aimed at. Wasn't that person Father Fields? Isn't it a fact that Rachel Pitt was then and is now an agent of the Movement, and that she arranged a meeting between you and Father Fields?" Swinging around to point at Jason Dill, he shouted, "One of them has the girl, the other meets the father. Isn't this treason? Isn't this the proof that this man demanded?"
A rising murmur of agreement filled the auditorium; the Directors were nodding their approval of Reynolds' attack.
Barris said. "This is all character assassination; it has nothing to do with the issue. The real situation that faces us is the danger from Vulcan 3, from this living organism with its immense survival drive. Forget these habitual petty suspicions, these-"
"I am surprised," Reynolds said, "that you have picked up Jason Dill's insane delusion."
"What?" Barris said, taken aback.
Calmly, Reynolds said, "Jason Dill is insane. This conviction he has about Vulcan 3-- it is a projection from his own mind, a rationale for handling his own ambitions." Gazing thoughtfully at Barris, he said, "Dill has childishly anthropomorphized the mechanical construct with which he deals, month after month. It is only in a climate of fear and hysteria that such a delusion could be spread, could be passed on and shared by others. The menace of the Healers has created an atmosphere in which sober adults could give momentary credence to a palpably insane idea. Vulcan 3 has no designs on the human race; it has no will, no appetites. Recall that I am a former psychologist, associated with Atlanta for many years. I am qualified, trained to identify the symptoms of mental disturbance-even in a Managing Director."
After a time, Barris sat down slowly beside Jason Dill. The authority of Reynolds' logic was too much; no one could argue back. And of course the man's reasoning was unanswerable; it was not coming from him but from Vulcan 3, the most perfect reasoning device created by man.
To Dill, Barris said softly, "We'll have to fight. Is it worth it? There's a whole world at stake, not just you or me. Vulcan 3 is taking over." He pointed at Reynolds.
Dill said, "All right." He made an almost imperceptible motion to his armed guards. "Let's go down this way, if we have to. You're right, Barris. There's no alternative."
Together, he and Barris rose to their feet.
"Halt!" Reynolds said. "Put your arms away. You're acting illegally."
Now all the Directors were on their feet. Reynolds signaled rapidly, and Unity guards moved between Barris and Dill and the doors.
"You're both under arrest," Reynolds said. "Throw down your beams and surrender. You can't defy Unity!"
John Chai pushed up to Barris. "I can't believe it! You and Jason Dill turning traitor, at a time like this, with those brutal Healers attacking us!"
"Listen to me," Director Henderson gasped, making his way past Chai. "We've got to preserve Unity; We've got to do what Vulcan 3 tells us. Otherwise we'll be overwhelmed."
"He's right," Chai said. "The Healers will destroy us, without Vulcan 3. You know that, Barris. You know that Unity will never survive their attack, without Vulcan 3 to guide us."
Maybe so, Barris thought. But are we going to be guided by a murderer?
That was what he had said to Father Fields-I will never follow someone who murders. Whoever they are. Man or computer. Alive or only metaphorically alive-it makes no difference.
Pulling away from the Directors crowding around him, Barris said, "Let's get out of here." He and Dill continued to move toward the exit, their guards surrounding them. "I don't think Reynolds will fight."
Taking a deep breath, he headed directly at the line of Unity guards grouped in front of the exit. They stepped away, milling hesitantly.
"Get out of the way," Jason Dill ordered them. "Stand back." He waved his pencil beam; his personal guards stepped forward grimly, forcing a breach in the line. The Unity guards struggled half-heartedly, falling back in confusion. Reynolds' frantic shouts were lost in the general din. Barris pushed Dill forward.
"Go on. Hurry." The two of them were almost through the lines of hostile guards. "They have to obey you," Barris said. "You're still Managing Director; they can't fire on you--they're trained not to."
The exit lay before them.
And then it happened.
Something flashed through the air, something shiny and metallic. It headed straight at Jason Dill. Dill saw it and screamed.
The object smashed against him. Dill reeled and fell, his arms flailing. The object struck again, then lifted abruptly and zoomed off above their heads. It ascended to the raised platform and came to rest on the marble desk. Reynolds retreated in horror; the Directors and their staffs and guards roamed in frantic confusion, pushing blindly to get away.
Dill was dead.
Bending briefly, Barris examined him. On all sides men and women shrieked and stumbled, trying to get out, away from the auditorium. Dill's skull was crushed, the side of his face smashed in. His dead eyes gazed up blankly, and Barris felt welling up inside him a deep surge of regret.
"Attention!" rasped a metallic voice that cut through the terrified hubbub like a knife. Barris turned slowly, dazed with disbelief; it still did not seem possible.
On the platform the metal projectile had been joined by another; now a third landed, coming to rest beside the other two. Three cubes of glittering steel, holding tightly to the marble with clawlike grippers.
"Attention!" the voice repeated. It came from the first projectile, an artificial voice-the sound of steel and wiring and plastic parts.
One of these had tried to kill Father Fields. One of these had killed the schoolteacher. One or more had destroyed Vulcan 2. These things had been in action, but beyond the range of visibility; they had stayed out of sight until now.
These were the instruments of death. And now they were out in the open.
A fourth landed with the others. Metal squares, sitting together in a row like vicious mechanical crows. Murderous birds-hammer-headed destroyers. The roomful of Directors and guards sank gradually into horrified silence; all faces were turned toward the platform. Even Reynolds watched wide-eyed, his mouth slack in dumbfounded amazement.