“Enough,” Krug said. “An android’s dead. I’ll take responsibility. She said she belonged to Labrador Transmat General; Spaulding, get in touch with their lawyers and — no, you aren’t in shape to do anything now. Watchman! Notify our legal staff that Labrador Transmat has the basis for a tort action against us, destruction of android, and that we admit culpability and are willing to settle. Tell counsel to do what has to be done. Then get somebody from staff working on a press statement. Regrettable accident, that kind of thing. No political overtones. Clear?”

“What shall I do with the body?” Watchman asked. “Regular disposal procedures?”

“The body belongs to Labrador Transmat,” said Krug. “Freeze it for them. Hold it pending claim.” To Spaulding he said, “Get up. I’m due in New York now. You come with me.”

As he walked toward the control center, Watchman went through the Rite of Balancing the Soul two full times before the numbness began to leave him. The hideous outcome of his ruse still stunned his spirit.

When he reached the office, Watchman made the sign of Krug-be-praised eight times in succession and ran through half the sequences of codon triplets. These devotions calmed him. He put through a call to San Francisco, to the offices of Fearon Doheny, Krug’s chief counsel in liability cases. Lou Fearon, the Witherer Senator’s younger brother, came on the screen, and Watchman told him the story.

“Why did Spaulding shoot?” Fearon asked.

“Hysteria. Stupidity. Excitement.”

“Krug didn’t order him to fire?”

“Absolutely not. The bolt came within a meter of killing Krug himself. And he was in no danger.”

“Witnesses?”

“Niccolт Vargas, myself, the other AEP alpha. Plus various betas and gammas standing by. Should I get their names?”

“Forget it,” said the lawyer. “You know what a beta’s testimony is worth. Where’s Vargas now?”

“Still here. I think he’s going back to his observatory soon.”

“Tell him to call me collect later in the day. I’ll transmat out and take a deposition from him. As for that alpha—”

“Don’t bother with him,” Watchman advised.

“How so?”

“A political fanatic. He’ll try to make capital out of it. I’d keep him away from the case, if I could.”

“He was a witness,” Fearon said. “He’ll have to be called. I’ll neutralize him some way. Who owns him, do you know?”

“Property Protection of Buenos Aires.”

“We’ve done work for them. I’ll have Joe Doheny call and buy him for Krug. He can’t very well make trouble for Krug if he’s owned by—”

“No,” Watchman said. “Bad move. I’m surprised at you, Lou.”

“Why?”

“This alpha is an AEP man, right? Sensitive on the issue of androids as chattels. We shoot down his companion without warning, and then we try to buy him to silence him? How does that look? We’ll make ten million new members for the AEP within twelve hours after he releases a statement to the press.”

Fearon nodded bleakly. “Of course. Of course. Okay, Thor, how would you handle him?”

“Let me talk to him,” Watchman said. “Android to android. I’ll communicate somehow.”

“I hope so. Meanwhile I’ll call Labrador Transmat and find out how much they’re asking in damages for the loss of their alpha girl. We’ll settle this fast. You tell Krug not to worry: this time next week, it’ll be as though the whole thing never happened.”

Except that an alpha is dead, Watchman thought, breaking the contact.

He went outside. The snow was falling more heavily now. Snow-eater teams were efficiently keeping the whole area clean, except for a circle some fifty meters in diameter centered on the place where the body of Cassandra Nucleus lay. They were carefully avoiding that. A light dusting of snow now covered her corpse. Beside her, motionless, whitening in the storm, stood Siegfried Fileclerk. Watchman went up to him.

“Her owner is being notified,” he said. “I’ll have some gammas carry her into storage until they call for her.”

“Leave her here,” Fileclerk said.

“What?”

“Right here, where she fell. I want every android working on this job to see her body. Hearing about a murder like this isn’t enough. I want them to see!”

Watchman glanced at the dead alpha. Evidently Fileclerk had opened her robe; her breasts were bare, and the path of the needler’s bolt was visible between them. It had seared a window through her chest.

“She shouldn’t lie in the snow,” he said.

Fileclerk compressed his lips. “I want them to see! Watchman, this was an execution! A political execution!”

“Don’t be preposterous.”

“Krug summoned his henchman and had her shot down for the crime of seeking his support. We both saw it. She posed no threat to him. In her enthusiasm she came too close to him while presenting our viewpoint, that’s all. Yet he had her killed.”

“An irrational interpretation,” Watchman said. “Krug had nothing to gain by removing her. He sees the Android Equality Party as a mild source of harassment, not a serious menace. If he had any reason for killing AEP people, why would he have let you live? Another quick shot and you’d have joined her.”

“Why was she killed, then?”

“A mistake,” said Watchman. “The killer was Krug’s private secretary. He had been told that assassins were making an attempt on Krug’s life. When he reached the scene, he saw her grappling with Krug. It looked damning; I had the same view of things he had. Without hesitating, he fired.”

“Even so,” Fileclerk grunted, “he could have aimed for a leg. Clearly he’s an expert marksman. Instead of wounding, he slew. He pierced her breast with great skill. Why? Why?”

“A flaw of character. He’s an ectogene; he has powerful anti-android prejudices. Just a few moments before, he had come into tense confrontation with myself and several other androids, and he had been thwarted. Normally he boils with resentments; this time he boiled over. When he found that the ‘assassin’ was an android, he shot to kill.”

“I see.”

“It was his personal decision. Krug gave no orders for him to shoot at all, let alone to shoot to kill.”

Fileclerk flicked snow from his features. “Well, then, what will be done to punish this murderous ectogene?”

“Krug will reprimand him severely.”

“I speak of legal punishment. The penalty for murder is personality erasure, is it not?”

Sighing, Watchman said, “For murder of a human being, yes. The ectogene merely destroyed some property belonging to Labrador Transmat General. A civil offense; Labrador Transmat will seek reparations in the courts, and Krug has already admitted liability. He’ll pay her full price.”

“Her full price! Her full price! A civil offense! Krug to pay! What does themurderer pay? Nothing. Nothing. He is not even accused of crime. Alpha Watchman, are you truly an android?”

“My vat records are yours to consult.”

“I wonder. You look synthetic, but you think too much like a human.”

“I am synthetic, Alpha Fileclerk, I assure you.”

“But castrated?”

“My body is complete.”

“I spoke in metaphor. You have been conditioned in some way to uphold the human point of view against your own best interests.”

“I have had no conditioning except normal android training.”

“Yet Krug seems to have bought not only your body but your soul.”

“Krug is my master. I yield myself fully to Krug.”

“Spare me the religious nonsense,” Fileclerk snapped. “A woman’s been killed out of hand, for no particular reason, and Krug’s going to pay off her owners and that will be the end of it. Can you accept that? Can you simply shrug and say she was only property?Can you think of yourself as property? ”

“I am property,” Watchman said.

“And you accept your status gladly?”

“I accept my status, knowing that a time of redemption is to come.”