e case in the entire history of
Crime-Central! A little disconcerted, Beardsley said, "What happens
first?"

"Oh, plenty is _happening_. But the first you'll notice will be a total
reject. Watch when that happens. Complete silence, every light red for
exactly two and a half seconds--the reject, and then everything
continues."

"How about Transferral Impress? You know--possible to Logical, or
Logical to Prime?"

Arnold paused over his notes for the merest instant. "Why--it's
progressive, of course. _That_ you won't notice!"

Beardsley stared at him curiously, started to speak and then changed his
mind. He wandered again, watching the techs but not interfering. And
suddenly he was aware that the first total reject had come. It happened
with smooth and sudden silence just as Arnold had described, ECAIAC
breaking pace for mere seconds ... then all was clear again, and one of
the techs hurried down the aisle with the tape, which he handed to
Arnold.

* * * * *

Beardsley was aware of a wild pounding of pulse as he stared at the
anonymous tape. One of the fifteen "possibles"? It might even be a
rejected Logical. Mrs. Carmack? She was borderline. Or a Prime! It could
be Mandleco himself--or Losch or Pederson. No ... it was unlikely any
Primes would fall this early....

But maybe they were no longer Primes! Maybe _right now_ Transferral
Impress was at work, maybe one or more of them was being relegated to
lower cooerdinate-status somewhere there in the entrails....

He felt a bounding excitement. And, as if reading his thoughts, Jeff
Arnold gave him an amused look.

"Don't let it get to you, Raoul. I used to find it the same; we all do.
But then you get to thinking, hell, why try to guess? Identities don't
matter now!" He indicated the coded tape. "A total reject--anonymous.
ECAIAC's way of telling us _that_ person could not possibly be the
murderer."

"But--you're not even curious?"

"At rejects? Why?" Arnold seemed perplexed. "Oh, you mean because _I'm_
among the 'possibles.' Frankly it doesn't bother me. I know I'm not the
murderer, and I have faith in ECAIAC. If this isn't my tape, the next
will be--or the eighth, or the fifteenth."

Beardsley nodded slowly. With ECAIAC it was only the final equate that
mattered, the total result of Cumulative. He saw the truth in that, and
the perfection. Or--his eyes beneath the glasses came to a quick bright
focus--_was_ it quite perfection