“You sure I can’t get you anything?” Reilly asked, smiling. He was obviously back in his own element again. The stiffness and formality he had displayed at the dueling ground disappeared now that he was in a hotel room with a drink in his hand.

Hosato had encountered his kind before. An aging pretty boy sincere smile and a firm handshake look you right in the eye: the trademark of a corporate field man. Hosato never really felt at ease around them. He preferred the company of the rougher set, who would throw back their heads and laugh or glare with suspicion. The unshakable joviality of the corporation types was a mask that successfully screened their true thoughts and reactions.

“Well, I guess you must have a million questions, Mr. Hosato,” Reilly said, pulling up a chair.

“For the moment, just one.” Hosato smiled. “Who gave you my name?”

“Oh, that. A gentleman called the 'Hungarian' referred us to you.”

The Hungarian. That gave a certain air of credibility to the contact. Still…

“Did he send any messages to me?” Hosato asked.

“As a matter of fact, he did. I was going to mention it later, since it didn’t seem particularly important. He said to tell you his dog died.”

That was the fail-safe. The Hungarian never owned a dog in his life; in fact, he hated them. However, it served to confirm that Reilly had indeed been checked and forwarded by the Hungarian.

“Very well, tell me about this job you have for me. You mentioned sabotage?”

“That’s right,” Reilly confirmed. “What do you know about Ravensteel Incand Mc. Crae Enterprises?”

“Not much,” Hosato admitted. “They’re both based on Grunbecker’s Planet and they both make robots.”

Reilly smiled. “Mr. Hosato, you have an unsuspected talent for understatement. Still, that pretty much sums up the situation. The only major amendment I would make would be to point out that between the two of them, they produce eighty-five to ninety percent of the robots in use today.”

Hosato raised his eyebrows in genuine surprise. He had no idea those two corporations dominated the industry to that extent.

“Now, then,” Reilly continued, “what do you know about the corporations themselves, particularly their interrelation with each other?”

“Mr. Reilly,” Hosato smiled to hide his annoyance, “you asked once what I knew about the corporations in question, and I told you. Now, why don’t you just tell me whatever you feel is important, instead of playing Twenty Questions?” Reilly took the rebuff smoothly. “Sorry,” he apologized. “My basic background is in marketing and sales—you know, 'get the customer involved'. Guess I’ve never really gotten over it.

“Well, to keep a long story short, the two corporations hate each other with a passion. Now, don’t mistake this for an ordinary business rivalry. That’s there, too, but it’s only part of the story. Originally they were all one company, IR. AM, a partnership. The two partners had a falling-out, and they split the company, forming two separate corporations. The main drive of each of the two has been to put the other out of business. So far, though, they’re about even.”

“What does all this have to do with me?” Hosato asked.

“We at Ravensteel want you to penetrate the Mc. Crae complex and sabotage their works shut 'em down. We’re ready to pay ten thousand credits for the attempt, and an additional ten thousand for every month Mc. Crae is inoperative, to a maximum total of a hundred thousand credits. Are you interested?”

Hosato stared thoughtfully at the wall for several minutes before answering. There was no denying a hundred thousand credits was tempting. Still.

“What’s the law like?” he asked abruptly.

“The law?”

“The police. What kind of opposition would I be up against?”

“No police,” Reilly assured him. “Grunbecker’s Planet is a corporation world. There are no inhabitants other than corporation employees. Each of the two corporations makes and enforces its own laws.”

“All right, then, what is Mc. Crae law like?”

“Tight,” Reilly admitted. “Tight to the point of being paranoid. They live in constant fear of industrial espionage and are determined nothing is going to get away. Half the humans in the complex are security guards, and if any of them are indifferent or careless, we haven’t been able to catch 'em at it.”

Hosato pursed his lips thoughtfully. “What’s the physical layout?” he asked.

“Well, Grunbecker’s Planet itself is pretty desolate mostly sand and rock. If it wasn’t for its mineral deposits, it’s doubtful it would have been settled at ail.”

“Breathable atmosphere?”

Reilly shook his head. “No. The complex is sealed with its own life-support systems. You’d need a surface suit to survive outside the complex.”

Hosato nodded absently.

“How about the complex itself?” he asked finally.

“The Mc. Crae complex is a series of surface buildings interconnected by subterranean tunnels,” Reilly recited. “The spaceport is located on top of the Administrative Building.”

“All of it’s above the surface?”

“All except one building. The main computer building is subterranean for temperature control and security. The rest of the complex is aboveground. We can supply you with detailed maps of the layout if you accept the job.”

Hosato considered this for a few more moments.

“Okay, Reilly,” he said at last. “What’s the rest of it?”

“The rest of what?”

Hosato grimaced at him. “The rest of the story. There’s got to be more. You’ve gone to a lot of trouble to find me, and you’re offering top dollar for my services. Nothing you’ve said so far indicates a need for a specialist. There are several hundred people who could do the job for you, and do it cheaper than me— you’ve probably got a couple in your own corporation. Now, assuming Ravensteel isn’t in the habit of tossing away money on overqualified personnel, there’s something you haven’t told me—something that will make me effective where your randomly picked demolition man would fail. I want to know what that something is before I decide whether to accept or reject your offer.”

Reilly took a slow sip of his drink before replying.

“All right, Hosato. I’ll put all our cards on the table. Mc. Crae’s security is tight and I mean really tight. They’re very careful about who they let wander around their complex. Oh, they cater to tour groups, but passing visitors never get near anything vital. We think the only machines they see are do-nothing dummies rigged for show only.”

“What makes you think that?” Hosato asked.

Reilly smiled. “Because that’s what we do with tour groups at Ravensteel.”

“I see.” Hosato mentally filed away that piece of information for possible future use.

“Anyway,” Reilly continued, “the only ones who get into the depths of the complex are permanent employees. And most of the designing, manufacturing, and mining are automated, so they don’t hire many humans. Consequently, the ones they do hire are screened very carefully. New employees aren’t simply interviewed when they appear, they’re researched and then approached. Naturally, this makes infiltration a bit difficult.”

“Now, the other shoe,” Hosato prompted. “How am I supposed to break this airtight defense?”

“Like everyone else, they’ll bend the rules for a specialist. We’ve gotten information that one of the Mc. Crae executives is looking for a fencing master for his son. It was a long shot, but we figured if we could find a fencer with other shall we say ’special talents,' he might be willing to listen to a proposal from us. We started searching and found you.”

Hosato thought it through. It made sense. Fencing was an ability that couldn’t be faked or learned overnight. You either could or you couldn’t.

“We’re not really throwing you to the wolves,” Reilly added hastily. Apparently he mistook Hosato’s silence for hesitancy.