The Caves of Steel Read Free Page B

tops were visible. They were so many fingers, groping upward. Their walls were blank, featureless. They were the outer shells of human hives.
    “In a way,” said the Commissioner, “I’m sorry it’s raining. We can’t see Spacetown.”
    Baley looked westward, but it was as the Commissioner said. The horizon closed down. New York’s towers grew misty and came to an end against blank whiteness.
    “I know what Spacetown is like,” said Baley.
    “I like the picture from here,” said the Commissioner. “It can just be made out in the gap between the two Brunswick Sectors. Low domes spread out. It’s the difference between us and the Spacers. We reach high and crowd close. With them, each family has a dome for itself. One family: one house. And land between each dome. Have you ever spoken to any of the Spacers, Lije?”
    “A few times. About a month ago, I spoke to one right here on your intercom,” Baley said, patiently.
    “Yes, I remember. But then, I’m just getting philosophical. We and they. Different ways of life.”
    Baley’s stomach was beginning to constrict a little. The more devious the Commissioner’s approach, the deadlier he thought might be the conclusion.
    He said, “All right. But what’s so surprising about it? You can’t spread eight billion people over Earth inlittle domes. They’ve got space on their worlds, so let them live their way.”
    The Commissioner walked to his chair and sat down. His eyes looked unblinkingly at Baley, shrunken a bit by the concave lenses in his spectacles. He said, “Not everyone is that tolerant about differences in culture. Either among us or among the Spacers.”
    “All right. So what?”
    “So three days ago, a Spacer died.”
    Now it was coming. The corners of Baley’s thin lips raised a trifle, but the effect upon his long, sad face was unnoticeable. He said, “Too bad. Something contagious, I hope. A virus. A cold, perhaps.”
    The Commissioner looked startled. “What are you talking about?”
    Baley didn’t care to explain. The precision with which the Spacers had bred disease out of their societies was well known. The care with which they avoided, as far as possible, contact with disease-riddled Earthmen was even better known. But then, sarcasm was lost on the Commissioner.
    Baley said, “I’m just talking. What did he die of?” He turned back to the window.
    The Commissioner said, “He died of a missing chest. Someone had used a blaster on him.”
    Baley’s back grew rigid. He said, without turning, “What are
you
talking about?”
    “I’m talking about murder,” said the Commissioner, softly. “You’re a plain-clothes man. You know what murder is.”
    And now Baley turned. “But a Spacer! Three days ago?”
    “Yes.”
    “But who did it? How?”
    “The Spacers say it was an Earthman.”
    “It can’t be.”
    “Why not? You don’t like the Spacers. I don’t. Who on Earth does? Someone didn’t like them a little too much, that’s all.”
    “Sure, but—”
    “There was the fire at the Los Angeles factories. There was the Berlin R-smashing. There were the riots in Shanghai.”
    “All right.”
    “It all points to rising discontent. Maybe to some sort of organization.”
    Baley said, “Commissioner, I don’t get this. Are you testing me for some reason?”
    “What?” The Commissioner looked honestly bewildered.
    Baley watched him. “Three days ago a Spacer was murdered and the Spacers think the murderer is an Earthman. Till now,” his finger tapped the desk, “nothing’s come out. Is that right? Commissioner, that’s unbelievable. Jehoshaphat, Commissioner, a thing like this would blow New York off the face of the planet if it really happened.”
    The Commissioner shook his head. “It’s not as simple as that. Look, Lije, I’ve been out three days. I’ve been in conference with the Mayor. I’ve been out to Spacetown. I’ve been down in Washington, talking to the Terrestrial Bureau of Investigation.”
    “Oh?