“My friend, you’ve been flimflammed. Thursday morning your charming dinner companion used her security override to erase the charge from your record and had it added to hers instead.”

Hosato felt a mild pang of annoyance. “Well, just transfer it back,” he ordered.

“Can’t.” The girl smiled. “You’ll just have to give her the money yourself if you want to pay for it. I just wish I could be there when you try.”

Hosato controlled his temper and forced a smile. “Well, I guess that’s between her and me. Thanks for your help, though. I probably shouldn’t have gotten you involved.”

“Don’t mention it. Say, urn, Hayama. Maybe I shouldn’t say this, but about your girlfriend there.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he corrected.

“Really. Good. That makes this a little easier to say, then. Did you know she’s trying to get you replaced?”

“What?”

“Now, don’t blame her. She’s probably under orders from on high to save a few bucks on the budget. You know what they say, 'Never mix friendship with business.' You should hear her side of it before you tell her to drop dead.”

“First,” Hosato interrupted, “I think I' should hear your side of it.”

“Well,” she began eagerly, “remember I said this was the second special problem I had to deal with this month. Well, the other one was her. She called me up last Thursday and said she wanted me to send out a personnel-scouting request to all our field agents. You’ll never guess what for.”

“A fencing coach?” Hosato supplied.

“Wrong,” she said triumphantly. “For a spy. For someone who specializes in espionage and sabotage, but—and here’s the kicker—a spy who can double as a fencing coach. It looks like someone thinks your job should be doing double duty. That’s what hit me, you know. We used to have two girls here, one handling accounting problems and one covering personnel. Then…”

Hosato wasn’t listening as she rambled on. The Ninja trap. So that’s what Sasha had up her sleeve. Instead of proving the fencing coach had other talents, she was simply putting out a call for a list of dubious characters who could fence. All she would have to do would be to see if the existing coach were on it. If he were Would it work. How many of his contacts would supply his name in response to that request. Would she make the connection between Hosato and Hayama. There were a lot of Japanese in space, but how many of them could fence?

“Hey!” The girl laid a hand on his arm, interrupting his thoughts.

“I didn’t meant to get you upset. Even if she finds someone, you can always find another job, can’t you?”

“Sure,” he said bitterly. “As a professional duelist. I was trying to leave that behind. Not much job security, and the retirement plan is rotten.”

“Gee, I’d like to run interference for you, but well, you know, it’s my job. Still,” she said, “I do feel somehow responsible. Tell you what. I get off at four, why don’t we' get together over drinks, and maybe between the two of us we can come up with something.”

“Okay.” Hosato smiled. “Where shall I meet you?”

“Why don’t I drop by your room?” she suggested. “And we can decide where we’ll go from there.”

Suzi will love that, he thought.

“Terrific,” he said. “I’ll see you then.”

“Okay,” she said, standing up. “And in the meantime, don’t worry. Sasha’s going to have her hands full for a while after what happened last night.”

Hosato was suddenly alert.

“What happened last night?” he asked casually.

“Haven’t you heard. Somebody killed Turner. Blew his head off with a blaster.”

“What. Who did it?”

“Nobody knows, but it had to be one of the guards. They’re the only ones in the complex with blasters. The president has ordered them all to turn in their weapons until the investigation is complete.”

A spark burned in Hosato’s memory. “Was he in the manufacturing area?”

“No, he was in his office. That’s about all I know. See you after work.” She started for the door.

“What about the boy. Turner’s son. What happens to him?”

“Gee, I never thought about that. I suppose the company will take care of him somehow. See you later.”

Hosato sat in thoughtful silence after she left. Finally he leaned forward and spoke into the desk-robot.

“Can you connect me with Harry Turner’s personal quarters?”

“I can function as an intercom system,” the robot responded.

“Then would you connect me, please?”

There was a silence; then James’s voice came out of the speaker. “Yes?”

“Hayama here, James.”

“Oh. Hayama. I won’t be able to take my lesson today—”

“I know, I just heard. What I wanted to say was that after all this is over, if you’re still interested, we can talk about your coming in with me as an apprentice.”

“Thanks, Hayama. I appreciate that.”

“One more thing, James. What was your father doing in his office last night?”

“It was the security-robot thing again. He was going to be looking at the first working prototypes.”

“But you have my every assurance that such a thing is impossible!” Suzi floated at Hosato’s heels as he paced up and down his apartment.

“Look, Suzi,” Hosato said grimly, “I was almost killed twice yesterday by robots. How do you explain that?”

There was a moment of silence before the robot replied. “The only possible explanation is equipment malfunction.”

“Twice. In the same area. Within fifteen minutes of each other?”

“The probability is admittedly low, but the possibility is still there,” Suzi insisted. “Do you recall your arguments with my creator to program me so that I could attack with a fencing foil. It was safe, you said, there could be no injury so the programming would be acceptable. Do you recall what he said?”

“He said he wouldn’t do it.”

“He said he couldn’t do it. Because you and I can converse like this, you keep forgetting one basic concept. Machines are dumb. That’s why the base 'no-kill' programs are ingrained so deeply. A machine can’t tell a blunted sword from a real one. If I were able to be programmed to fight with a mock weapon, you could then substitute a real weapon and I would kill with it. Our 'no-kill' programming therefore negates any such secondary programming.”

There was a knock at the door. “Please reconsider,” Suzi begged. “The repercussions of your chosen action could—”

“No, Suzi,” Hosato said and opened the door. “Well, Hayama,” Sasha said, sweeping briskly into the room. “What’s the big emergency?”

“Sit down, Sasha.” Hosato smiled. “This could take a while.”

“No it won’t,” the security chief said coldly. “My entire force has been disarmed, the whole complex has gone crazy with accusations and suspicions, and I was supposed to be in the president’s office five minutes ago. This won’t take long at all.”

“But this has to do with Turner’s death,” Hosato supplied.

“Fine. If you have information to give, then give it and let me get out of here.”

Hosato sighed. “Look, Sasha. Will it slow you up at all if I say everything you’ve suspected about me is true. That I’m a Ninja?”

Sasha stopped abruptly and studied Hosato with dark eyes. “Did you kill Turner?” she asked softly.

“No, but I think I know who did… or what did, to be specific.”

The security chief sank into a chair. “I’m listening,” she announced. “I must say you’ve got the knack for getting my undivided attention.”

“Before I get into my theory, there are a couple questions I want to ask you. As head of Security, any breach in an restricted area would be reported to you immediately, right?”

“That is correct.”

“Aside from Harry Turner’s death, were any other disturbances reported to you yesterday?”

“No.”

“Specifically, in the manufacturing areas?”

“No. Why. Have you heard something—?”

“Next,” Hosato interrupted, “is Turner’s product family introducing any new robots that you know of?”