Watchers of the Dark. Lloyd Biggle jr.
coming along,” Miss Schlupe said. “Isn’t that obvious?”
“Obviously you’ve come along, but this is where you get off. Sorry, Schluppy. I’m going to be gone a long time, and Smith thinks the odds are decidedly against my ever coming back. Even when I allow for his naturally pessimistic disposition, I have to admit that the outlook isn’t good. There will be dangers the likes of which neither of us have ever imagined. I won’t have you mixed up in it. Do your stuff with the controls, Smith, and we’ll send Miss Schlupe back to Nashville. Then you’d better throw the switch fast. She has an uncanny sense of timing. Another two seconds, Schluppy, and your dive through the transmitter would have brought you nothing more than an embarrassing familiarity with the basement wall.”
“Poo!” Miss Schlupe said. “I’d have made it with plenty of time to spare if you hadn’t kept me waiting on those creaky basement stairs until my leg went to sleep. Don’t think you can scare me. If there are dangers the likes of which I’ve never imagined, I want to see them.”
Smith spoke for the first time. “Impossible. I could not permit it.”
Darzek turned slowly. “What do you have to say about it?”
“My instructions are precise on that point. Supreme requested yourself only.”
“Our agreement,” Darzek said coldly, “was that I accept your commission and its general objectives, but that I am to have complete freedom in accomplishing these. Did I misunderstand you?”
“No. That arrangement should be fully satisfactory to Supreme.”
“Surely that freedom includes the right to select an assistant.”
Smith did not answer.
“Miss Schlupe and I wish to converse privately,” Darzek said. “No, just stay where you are.” He led Miss Schlupe to the far side of the circular room.
“Where are we?” she asked.
“According to Smith, we’re on a spaceship somewhere beyond the orbit of the planet Pluto.”
“That’s nice,” Miss Schlupe said cheerfully. “Is there a view?”
“Be serious.”
“What do you expect when you make silly statements like that?”
“Miss Schlupe,” Darzek said sternly. “If I weren’t an abnormally sane man, the events of the past few days would have reduced me to gibbering idiocy. They still may do so if I have to argue with you about them.”
“All right. We’re on a spaceship. What are we doing here?”
“Our Able-Baker-Charlie-Dog tandem hails from outer space. That’s why they had all of us running in circles. They know tricks I don’t even believe after seeing, and they have gadgets I never will believe. How did you ever manage to get a line on that Nashville headquarters?”
“I didn’t follow Smith-Dog. I followed you. But—outer space?”
“It’s true. They wear a synthetic epidermis to make them look human, and it succeeds remarkably, in a dead-fish sort of way. I made Smith remove his, and I have never seen more convincing proof of anything. They really are from outer space.”
“What do they want with you?”
“It seems that I once did some work for them. I don’t remember it, but I must have given satisfaction. Now they’ve hired me again.”
“And me,” Miss Schlupe said confidently. “I never had any fun in my life until I went to work for you. You’re not firing me now. What did they hire us to do?”
“That’s where things start getting complicated. It seems that this galaxy of ours, which we vulgarly call the Milky Way, has habitable worlds without number, with equally numerous intelligent life forms whose appearances would tax the imagination if it weren’t for the fact that any healthy imagination would reject them out of hand. Our galaxy also has something that might be loosely referred to as a government; with most of the burdensome appurtenances that this implies. One outstanding exception is a military establishment, which has never been needed. Our galaxy is made up of maybe millions of worlds existing peacefully in free association with each other.”
“I don’t believe it.”
“It is not only beyond comprehension, but also beyond knowledge,” Darzek agreed. “One has to accept it on faith. These worlds get along together under one loosely organized galactic government in a peace that defies the laws of nature. So Smith describes it, and if he’s capable of either mendacity or subterfuge I haven’t been able to catch him at it. The main reason for this halcyon condition is that any world that might upset it is kept isolated and not permitted to play with the others until it’s demonstrated that it can be trusted to observe the rules. Which is why we humans don’t know anything about it. We have a well-documented predilection for making up our own rules. Earth is what they call an uncertified world. Smith’s cohorts belong to a certification group that takes our temperatures at regular intervals and seeks to stuff medicine into us without our knowing about it. When they decide that we’ve been cured of our disposition for foul play, they’ll certify us. That doesn’t seem likely to happen in the foreseeable future.”
“You haven’t answered my question. What did they hire us to do?”
“Well—their system worked very well until, as their time goes, recently. Now they’re afraid that this galaxy—don’t laugh—is being invaded from outer space. A neighboring galaxy, known to us as the Large Magellanic Cloud, is suspect. It has arms trailing in our direction, and several expeditions sent in that direction vanished from the ken of mortal men, if it is correct to refer to the galaxy’s collective populations as ‘men.’ A logical inference would be that whoever or whatever resides in the Large Magellanic Cloud got curious as to where the unwelcome expeditions were coming from, and decided to investigate. Hence our Milky Way galaxy is being invaded from outer space. Now what’s the matter?”
Miss Schlupe had burst into wild, uncontrolled laughter. “Excuse me,” she said, raising her spectacles to dab at her eyes. “But it’s so silly! The galaxy is being invaded. That sounds like a military operation on a scale that would make World War II look like a fracas in a flowerpot. So what do they do about it? They call in a private detective!”
“Smith couldn’t explain it, so don’t ask me to. Supreme, whoever that may be, asked for me by name, and what Supreme asks for Supreme gets. Look. Some menace from outer space, which they refer to as the Dark, is gobbling up worlds in huge gulps. They haven’t been able to figure out what it is, or how it manages to do the gobbling. That’s the job they’re handing to me. I’ll be a spy, with a very good chance of being shot at the dawning of some sun I never knew existed.”
“Then I’ll be shot with you. It’ll be better than rusting away in my rocking chair.”
Darzek smiled at her. “This will be a grim sort of business. I’m tempted to take you along for the laughs. I may need a few.”
“Ha ha. I’m coming along to work.”
“You will,” Darzek promised. “And you may not like it. We start by going to school. Before we can move freely in a strange civilization we’ll have to learn everything from the language to how to hold our teacups. It won’t be easy.”
“Can I go back to New York before we leave?”
“You’ll have to. If you don’t do something about your apartment, Missing Persons will be looking for you. If you don’t pack a suitcase—carefully—you may be doing some looking yourself. Macy’s won’t have any branches where we’re going.”
“I gave up my apartment before I left, and I have a suitcase packed. Carefully. It’s in Nashville.”
“Then why do you want to go to New York?”
“My sister has what was left of my rhubarb beer. I want to take