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Updated: May 12, 2025
The detective nodded to Vall, tried to suppress a grin when he saw Dalla behind him, and went out. Vall saw his wife and the prisoner seated, and produced his cigarette case, handing it around. "You're Zinganna; you're of the household of Councilman Salgath Trod, aren't you?" he asked. "Housekeeper and hostess," the girl replied. "I am also his mistress." Vall nodded, smiling.
"You understand that this confession renders you liable to psycho-rehabilitation?" Tortha Karf asked. Yes, Councilman Salgath understood that. "And you agree to come voluntarily to Paratime Police Headquarters, and you will voluntarily undergo narco-hypnotic interrogation?" Yes, Salgath Trod agreed to that.
Here: what you'd better do is attack the Paratime Police, especially Tortha Karf and Verkan Vall. Accuse them of negligence and incompetence, and, by implication, of collusion, and demand a special committee to investigate. And try to get a motion for a confidence vote passed. A motion to censure the Management, say " Salgath Trod nodded. "It would delay things, at least.
Salgath Trod waited until they had gone down the hall to the antigrav shaft, and then he turned on the visiphone, checked the security, set it for sealed beam communication, and punched out a combination. A girl in a green tunic looked out of the screen. "Paratime Police," she said. "Office of Chief Tortha." "I am Executive Councilman Salgath Trod," he told her.
Verkan Vall and Dalla were sitting behind Tortha Karf's desk; Vall was issuing orders over the intercom and talking to the detectives who had remained at Salgath Trod's apartment by visiscreen; Dalla was sorting over the things she had spilled when her bag had burst. They both looked up as Tortha Karf came in and joined them. "The prisoner's still under the drug," the Chief said.
They got out and hurried over under the marquee, the car lifting and moving off toward the hangars. This was the real break; no matter how this Organization might be compartmented, a man like Salgath Trod would know a great deal. He would name names, and the bearers of those names, arrested and narco-hypnotized, would name other names, in a perfect chain reaction of confessions and betrayals.
"The more it succeeds now, the worse the blow-up will be when we finally have to admit that Salgath was killed here tonight," the Chief Inter-officer Coördinator, Zostha Olv said. "We'd better have something to show the public to justify that." "Yes, we had," Tortha Karf agreed. "Vall, how about the Kholghoor Sector operation.
"Your hunch about Salgath Trod was good; just a few minutes before I called you, he called me. He says this slave trade is the work of something he calls the Organization; says he's been taking orders from them for years. His attack on the Management and motion for a censure-vote were dictated from Organization top echelon.
Salgath Trod left his aircar at the top landing stage of his apartment building and sent it away to the hangars under robot control; he glanced about him as he went toward the antigrav shaft. There were a dozen vehicles in the air above; any of them might have followed him from the Paratime Building.
Of course, his tunic bulged slightly under the left armpit, but even the most respectable tunics showed occasional weapon-bulges. "Good afternoon, councilman," the newcomer said, sitting down across the desk from Salgath Trod. "I was just talking to ... somebody we both know." Salgath Trod offered cigarettes, lighted his visitor's and then his own.
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