We're Friends, Now Page 8

ofcontrol; he gazed at Beardsley out of cold incalculable eyes now hoodedwith dire intention. "You're really trying hard, aren't you!" he grated."Well, make the most of it, because I guarantee _you_ won't be around,not after the next Annual Basic! Do you understand that--_Mister_Cooerdinator?"

  But Beardsley was watching Pederson now, whose face took on a suddenfebrile gleam. "Blackmail ... by God, Beardsley, that's it! And I havethe proof! Sure, it was Carmack I was after, but I dug out a lot more--"Pederson shot a challenging look at the Minister of Justice. "It goesback some years, but I can prove that Amos Carmack had enough onMandleco to _finish him politically any time he chose_. You can bet yourlife Mandleco hated him. Enough to warrant murder!"

  There was an odd, illogical delight in the way Pederson said it--andsomething almost frightening the way Mandleco just stood there in coldsilence, gazing at the tele-columnist with a look of boundless regret.

  Beardsley said very softly, "Thanks, Pederson, but I'd suggest you saveit. It's scarcely pertinent now."

  "Not pertinent? But, man, I tell you I have proof! What better motivewould you--"

  "Motive?" Beardsley hit him with a pitying glance. "Why, I thought itwas obvious. We've progressed beyond _motives_ now."

  Again there was an electric silence, and Beardsley let it assimilate. "Ihave said," he went on, "that all this is most remarkable. But you know,the _really_ remarkable thing--" He paused and watched them. Mandlecocontinued to grind a fist into his palm; Pederson straightenedattentively, and d'Arlan, sneery no longer, moved over to stand besideSheila Carmack.

  "--the really remarkable thing is this. I am now ready to state,unequivocally, that the person who killed Amos Carmack ... _didn't hatehim at all_."

  * * * * *

  A thought was throbbing through the room like the seconds passing. Quickand cumulative, almost embodied, it made transition from stunned mindto startled mind as Beardsley stood there blinking at them. Beardsleyreally didn't mind; they just couldn't know how subtly he worked intohis themes! Taking advantage of the lull, he went over to the door andpeered out into the Operations Room.

  He peered long and soberly, then turned. Mandleco had found his voicefirst, perplexity pushing down his anger: "Beardsley, either you'rebereft of your senses or--Do you mean to say," he choked--"after goingto these preposterous lengths do you mean to say that no one _here_--"

  "Just a moment!" To everyone's surprise it was d'Arlan who broke in."I'm not sure what's going on here, not sure at all, but I want to makeone thing quite clear. _Sheila_ had no complicity in this crime! I know,because--" He hesitated, touched her gently on the arm. "Sorry, darling,I've got to say it. I know because she was with _me_ that night."

  Sheila was startled for a moment, then utterly scathing. "You needn'tlie for me, Victor! I appreciate your sense of the dramatic, and evenyour motives, but I assure you they are both misplaced. I have neverheard such nonsense!"

  d'Arlan looked more desolate than abashed. As for Beardsley, he was onlya little amused. "Well, now, this is really more than I deserve; in allmy years on Homicide I wanted to experience this, but I finally put itdown as a myth. The Noble Alibi!" He peered sharply. "True vintage,right out of the _whodunits_--wouldn't you agree, Mrs. Carmack?"

  The answer didn't come, and Beardsley went on sternly: "And you rejecthis noble attempt on your behalf. That is interesting! Especially, as itoccurs to me that d'Arlan's effort is just a little delayed...." Hepaused, gazing thoughtfully upward. "It's enough to make one wonderwhether his noble effort is designed to protect you--or himself!"

  d'Arlan suddenly paled, as if he had just been kicked in the stomach. Hegulped heavily and tried to speak. Beardsley watched stolidly for amoment, then dismissed him with a gesture of complete disgust. "Oh,hell, never mind! I would say neither. The lady is right, sonny, you'dbetter watch those impulses. You just aren't the type!"

  * * * * *

  Mandleco had been hanging onto every word, grimly intent; he was sureBeardsley was getting somewhere at last. Now he straightened, and hisgrinding fist indicated that he'd had quite enough. Without a word,without even a deigning glance at Beardsley, he traversed the officewith great purposeful strides and slammed through the outer door intoECAIAC's room--

  And was back an instant later, trailing Jeff Arnold as the latterbrushed past him into the office. Mandleco was saying somethingurgently, tugging at Arnold's arm. Arnold ignored him. His startled gazewas on the little group.

  "Sheila!" He took a step forward. "Sheila, what are _you_ doing here?"

  "I wish you'd tell me, Jeff. I wish _someone_ would explain what this isall about...."

  Beardsley watched the tableau in silence. Jeff Arnold's gaze flicked tod'Arlan, who stared back with insolence, and there was no mistaking thehostility that leaped between the two.

  Sheila noticed it, too, and there was an indecisive moment that mountedtoward panic. Beardsley watched her churning effort to control it. Shesaid quickly, an inflection of fear in her voice: "Mr. Beardsley, if it_really_ matters--my whereabouts that night--you'll understand myreluctance to say it before! I was with Jeff. Truly! I'm sure he willtell you--"

  The words were directed at Beardsley, but she was talking to JeffArnold. And deliberately, almost brutally, Arnold refused to accept thecue. Beardsley saw the pleading turn to apprehension in Sheila's eyes.

  "But, Jeff, you remember! Surely you do! Jeff, you don't understand--youmust tell them--"

  * * * * *

  Arnold looked at her for a single comprehending instant, a pityinginstant, then his lips compressed tightly as he turned away.

  There was finality in it. Sheila's eyes were stark and unbelieving. Shestood there without motion, without a word, her mind groping in a shockof blindness.

  Beardsley said gently, "It's all right, Mrs. Carmack. It's really allright. Merely an experiment, an inquiry into comparative methods asMandleco said. I'm truly sorry if my methods seemed harsh, but"--heshrugged--"I dare say my participation is over now."

  "You're damned right you may say it, Beardsley!" Arnold's eyes raked himwith venom, but he controlled himself and turned to Mandleco. "I onlycame to tell you, sir, that we have ECAIAC ready. We'll be reachingCumulative very shortly now."

  "Jeff ... are you _sure_?"

  "Quite sure! Depend on it, there'll be no more trouble."

  More than relief took hold of Mandleco; it was transformation, it was asif a spell had been snapped. He glanced once about the room, andshuddered as his gaze encountered Beardsley.

  "Uh--yes. Fine!" he said. "That's fine, Jeff! Shall we proceed?" Hestrode through the door, pausing only to fling back scathingly: "Thatis, if Mr. Beardsley is quite sure it meets with _his_ approval!"

  * * * * *

  ECAIAC was in finest fettle again as the tapes sped through. Circuitswere activated. Codes gave meaning. Synaptic cells summed andintegrated, cancelled and compared and with saucy assurance sent thefindings on toward Cumulative. The murmur was soft and sustained andsomehow apologetic, as if ECAIAC were quite aware that she had failed inher duty but would be just pleased to make amends _this_ time.

  So like a woman ... fractious, unfathomable, then fawning andattrite--with a purpose! Beardsley cocked his head and listened, hismien almost beatific. Purpose? This creature had none that could quitematch his! He was convinced of it now, and he had never been more happyor self-assured.

  It was Pederson who was distressed, as he paced with long nervousstrides and watched the equate-panel where the mathematics were madevisible in a pattern of constantly changing lights. It had meaning onlyfor the techs, but Pederson couldn't seem to take his eyes from it. Atlast he came over to Beardsley and managed to steer him aside.

  "Beardsley, I just don't get it! This whole thing--are you quite sure--"

  Beardsley blinked at him. "Sure of what, Pederson?"

  "Of what you're doing! Damn it, man, don't tell me that
was all wasteeffort in there! Look--I know what this means, and I'm with you all theway. If only you could beat ECAIAC, I'll give it all the publicity itcan bear! Who knows--"

  Beardsley looked at him blankly, and Pederson gave a snort and agesture. "All right! I guess I'm wrong. For a while there I actuallythought you had it." Pederson surveyed him shrewdly. "Just the same,that bit you exploded--about the person who killed Carmack didn't hatehim at all--you meant that, Beardsley!"

  "That's right, I meant it."

  "My choice is Jeff Arnold."

  "Ah? Now why do you say that?"

  "The way you built up to it, that's why. And you got your result! SheilaCarmack's in love with Arnold, and she tried to cover up for him ...sure, that's it! It's obvious! She thinks he's the killer, either thinksor knows it--"

  "Ah, yes. The obvious," Beardsley said with a grimace. "But you know, Ilearned a long time ago that the _obvious_ can be a mighty tricky thing.A dangerous thing. The forceps of the mind are greedy, and inclined tocrush a little in the seizing...."

  Pederson pondered that. "And you," he said slowly, "are not seizing. Itake that to mean you still have an angle!"

  Beardsley didn't answer at once. He glanced over at the equate-panel, atthe flux of dancing lights. Mandleco was bright-eyed and attentive,chomping on the stub of a cigar, head thrust forward as he listened tosome detail of Arnold's. Sheila stood miserably near by, still in ablind shock of disbelief; it was as if she had a need to be close toArnold, and he felt it, too, but they dared not look at each other.

  * * * * *

  "Now let's suppose," said Beardsley, "just suppose that Arnold thinks_Sheila_ is the killer. Eh? Let us say they _suspect each other_.Naturally, each has disclaimed any part of the deed. But the suspicionis there, that tiny seed; and suspicion, particularly where love isinvolved, has a habit of taking root and giving growth. Neither can be_totally_ sure of the other's innocence--eh?" He paused, peering up atPederson. "And Arnold would want to protect her from any possibleconsequence. Now what would be his way of doing that? The only way heknew?"

  He saw the idea take hold. Pederson was staring at the equate-panel withan odd look of excitement.

  "Total reject," he gasped. "By God, if he should try _that_--to equateher from Logical into reject--" He gestured helplessly. "No, it isn'tpossible. Those tapes are coded! There's no way of tampering--" Pedersonstopped abruptly, as a great light dawned. "Wait a minute, though. Itneedn't be the tapes! One thing I've always wondered--_would_ it bepossible to negate a given factor beyond all reach of empiricalcooerdinates? You know, through operational technique or setup--"

  Beardsley peered at him. "I'd say anything was possible," he urged,"given time and incentive."

  Pederson bobbed his head in facile agreement. "By God, you're right! Forexample, I've always thought there wasn't sufficient control onCumulative! You can bet your life Arnold would know ... results at thatpoint _could_ be juggled a little, say if the extrapolations werejust--"

  The forceps, the forceps of the mind. Already Pederson was reaching outto seize and to crush; the man was a fool after all! Beardsley felt aburgeoning disgust, but there was something more, a throbbing,chest-filling sensation that he strove to hold rigidly in leash. He saidquickly: "Come to think of it, Arnold did mention that he was here mostof last night, working on setup."

  He watched Pederson absorb that, too; he saw the excitement grow."Beardsley, if you are _sure_--if you could prove that Arnold managed athing like that--"

  They were interrupted by the sudden quiet that engulfed the room. It wasso total as to be frightening. CUMULATIVE--CUMULATIVE--CUMULATIVE. Forhalf-a-minute all operation ceased, as the words flashed bright acrossthe panel.

  But the techs had been waiting. It was a mere respite. Swiftly, theychecked their respective units against Cumulative Code, and at the endof thirty seconds every light went green for total clearance as ECAIAC'sdeep-throated power resumed.

  * * * * *

  Beardsley had been waiting too. "Cumulative!" he breathed. He let hisbreath out slowly, and made a sweeping gesture that seemed to encompassall the latent delight, all the unleashed joy of his being.

  He was aware of Pederson again, a voice in panic: "Beardsley! Don't youknow what it means? If there's been an imbalance, it has passed through!It will reach final equate!"

  "That's right, it's entirely in ECAIAC's lap. You wouldn't want todeprive her of the chance, now would you?"

  "But--but what are you going to _do_?"

  "Me? I'm going to watch. I'm going to watch one of the epic events ofour time--" For a moment Beardsley was solemn, almost shocked, as athought struck him. "In a way it will be sad. Yes, it will! ECAIAC isabout to lose her first case."

  Now that was strange. Why should he have said such a thing? _Why ... nowthat the game was over which had had to be played, and he felt thebitter-sweet surge of victory that lay throbbing at his grasp!_ About tolose her first case....

  He shrugged in remote annoyance and strode away from Pederson. It wouldbe fast now! Already the rejects were falling, the irrelevants, asECAIAC with blithe unconcern brought the final equate toward conclusion.He observed Jeff Arnold, standing silent and alert but so devoid of allemotion that somehow it wasn't real ... and Mandleco, half crouched,teeth gnawing away at the cigar, his heavy face rapacious and eager ashe awaited the final tape; that was all that mattered now; theMATHEMATICS would register, CODE would add synaptic approval, and proofindisputable would be on that tape in clean translated print--the nameof Carmack's killer.

  Indisputable? Bowing his head, Beardsley smiled, and listened to thesmooth rhythmic control. Nothing sinister now! No snapping malevolence!All those other times ... his unreasoning panic, the askance remarksfrom Arnold, the humiliation ... the very thought of it now was gibingand obscene. How could he ever have been caught up in such a thrall ofterror?

  It wasn't terror he felt now. Something.... His smile turned to a giggleas he felt a sudden compelling impulse to pat ECAIAC on the head!

  * * * * *

  Now how would one do THAT? Never mind. Never mind, never mind, neveragain are you going to snap at _me_, Ekky. We were introduced, remember?We're really great friends now.

  For a moment Beardsley was suspended in astonishment, aware that he hadalmost crooned the thought. He glanced around in embarrassment--

  Pederson was watching him. Pederson was at his side again, perplexed andfrowning. "Beardsley--this business of Sheila and Arnold. It wouldn'thappen that way, it couldn't! There's another answer, there's _got_ tobe--"

  Beardsley stood unmoving, oblivious. Almost, he seemed suspended inanother dimension; almost, he caught the quivering of a mind but couldnot separate it from the sudden tremor that rose in his own....

  He couldn't avoid it. It came unbidden, it battered through his reason,it towered there and blotted out his thoughts until all that was leftwas a tremulous regret, an attrite compassion.

  About to lose her first case ... _but one loses! And one survives it,you know, one survives it! For twelve years now...._

  * * * * *

  More than a tremor now. More than compassion now. A sense of betrayalalmost, illogical and nameless and yet palpable as the scent of fear.There was a pulse of red darkness in Beardsley's brain as all the mentaland emotional equations of his being sang a sharp alarm. For subtly,ever so subtly ECAIAC's deep-throated tone had changed ... nothing likethose other times, rather it was a halting stutter of puzzlement,erratic and querulous, with overtones of immediacy as if some formlesspresence were on the verge of unleashing.

  Beardsley looked down at his hands, and they were trembling. He couldnot stop the trembling. A tightness took him about the heart, and behindhis eyes that pulse of red darkness presaged the beginning of a violentheadache.

  Even the others noticed it now, something amiss. Jeff Arnold especially.He looked up in quick alarm at the equate-pa
nel where the mathematicsseemed to have gone a little fitful, a little frantic, with stutterylapses in progression as if ECAIAC were unable or unwilling to confront.

  The flux of pattern dimmed, then hesitated; blanked out and heroicallybegan anew.

  It happened suddenly, then. It happened as the techs came crowdingaround. There came a quivering, a sort of shudder, and ECAIAC subsidedwith a final weary gasp. It was for all the world as if she were saying,"This is it, boys. I've had it!"

  But it was there, it was there! All at once every symbol was constant,static and livid upon the screen, enhanced by the wordsEQUATE--COMPLETE--EQUATE--COMPLETE. In that moment every tech in theroom must have felt a touch of pride.

  A click, a whirr, and it was done. The fateful tape ejected.

  Both Mandleco and Arnold leaped for it, but Arnold was there first. Heripped the tape clear and then paused, hand outflung, as if he could notresist this final bit of drama.

  "Well? Well, Arnold?" Mandleco was hopping ludicrously about in an agonyof impatience.

  Arnold nodded. He brought the tape to his scrutiny. His mouth opened,then shut again as a shudder seized him. Once more he read it, a look ofwild disbelief on his face ... he