"Nothing. Fire and police have just arrived. There was an automatic alarm call."

"I'll tell you what I know. This is—or was—the Temple of Eternal Truth. A survivor just came to my house. Rowena Vinicultura. She said that my wife was here."

I could hear the police computer buzzing in his earphone. "Admiral Sir James diGriz. We will do everything we can to find your wife… Angelina. I am Captain Collin and I note that your status permits you to accompany this investigation under your owncognizance and responsibility."

Purely by reflex I had established my forged bona fides as an Admiral of the Fleet when we had first come to Lussuoso. Basic precautions always pay off.

We followed a large and well—insulated firefightbot into the ruins. It plowed a careful path, occasionally spraying a smoking remnant, recording for later examination every movement that it made, every obstacle it put aside. A hanging door screeched and fell and we entered the smoking interior of what had been a good—sized meeting hall. Roblights suspended from whining blades floated by above us and illuminated the smoke filled interior.

Destruction on all sides—but no bodies to be seen. The cold knot was still in my midriff. The room had been seriously decorated with carved wood paneling and—now smokingdraperies. Rows of pews faced towards the destroyed side of the room where the smoke was thickest. Precipitators soon cleared the air and the floating lights glinted from wrecked and twisted machinery.

"We'll hold it here," Captain Collin said. "The disaster team takes over now."

The disaster team was embodied in a single metallic gray robot. It was undoubtedly packed full of expert programs produced in collaboration with fire and forensic investigators, along with detectors and probes of microscopic efficiency. Logically I knew it would do an infinitely better job than we fumbling humans: I still wanted to kick it aside and rush in.