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167
The Status Civilization
·
Robert Sheckley
159
"Was
there
evidence
against
me?"
"Yes."
"Who
gave
it?"
"I
cannot
reveal
his
name."
"You
must!"
Barrent
said.
"Times
are
changing
on
Earth.
The
prisoners
are
coming
back.
Did
you
know
that?"
"I
expected
it,"
the
robot-confessor
said.
"I
must
have
the
informer's
name,"
Barrent
said.
He
took
the
needlebeam
out
of
his
pocket
and
advanced
toward
the
panel.
"A
machine
cannot
be
coerced,"
the
robot-confessor
told
him.
"Give
me
the
name!"
Barrent
shouted.
"I
should
not,
for
your
own
good.
The
danger
would
be
too
great.
Believe
me,
Will...."
"The
name!"
"Very
well.
You
will
find
the
informer
at
Thirty-five
Maple
Street.
But
I
earnestly
advise
you
not
to
go
there.
You
will
be
killed.
You
simply
do
not
know--"
Barrent
pressed
the
trigger,
and
the
narrow
beam
scythed
through
the
panel.
Lights
flashed
and
faded
as
he
cut
through
the
intricate
wiring.
At
last
all
the
lights
were
dead,
and
a
faint
gray
smoke
came
from
the
panel.
Barrent
left
the
booth.
He
put
the
needlebeam
back
in
his
pocket
and
walked
to
Maple
Street.
He
had
been
here
before.
He
knew
this
street,
set
upon
a
hill,
rising
steeply
between
oak
and
maple
trees.
Those
lampposts
were
old
friends,
that
crack
in
the
pavement
was
an
ancient
landmark.
Here
were
the
houses,
heavy
with
familiarity.
They
seemed
to
lean
expectantly
toward
him,
like
spectators
waiting
for
the
final
act
of
an
almost
forgotten
drama.
He
stood
in
front
of
35
Maple
Street.
The
silence
which
surrounded
that
plain
white-shuttered
house
struck
him
as
ominous.
He
took
the
needlebeam
out
of
his
pocket,
looking
for
a
reassurance
he
knew
he
could
not
find.
Then
he
walked
up
the
neat
flagstones
and
tried
the
front
door.
It
opened.
He
stepped
inside.
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