* *
* * *
"Listen
to me, Slane. I'm not operating independently. I'm employed by the Ivroy, whose
power is incalculable. My assignment has been to rescue from destruction
irreplaceable works of art fated to be consumed in atomic fire."
"What
do you mean--fated?"
"The
Ivroy knows these things. These paintings--all your art—are unique in the galaxy.
Others admire but they cannot emulate. In the cosmos of the far future, the few
surviving treasures of dawn art will be valued beyond all other wealth. They
alone will give a renewed glimpse of the universe as it appeared to the eyes of
your strange race in its glory."
"My
strange race?"
Snithian
drew himself up. "I am not of your race." He threw his cloak aside
and straightened.
Dan gaped as
Snithian's body unfolded, rising up, long, three-jointed arms flexing,
stretching out. The bald head ducked now under the beamed ceiling. Snithian
chuckled shrilly.
"What
about that inflexible attitude of yours, now, Mr. Slane?" he piped.
"Have I made my point?"
"Yes,
but--" Dan squeaked. He cleared his throat and tried again. "But I've
still got the gun."
"Oh,
that." An eight-foot arm snaked out, flicked the gun aside. "I've
only temporized with you because you can be useful to me, Mr. Slane. I dislike
running about, and I therefore employ locals to do my running for me. Accept my
offer of employment, and you'll be richly rewarded."
"Why
me?"
"You
already know of my presence here. If I can enlist your loyalty, there will be
no need to dispose of you, with the attendant annoyance from police, relatives
and busybodies. I'd like you to act as my agent in the collection of the
works."
"Nuts
to you!" Dan said. "I'm not helping any bunch of skinheads commit
robbery."
"This
is for the Ivroy, you fool!" Snithian said. "The mightiest power in
the cosmos!"
"This
Ivroy doesn't sound so hot to me--robbing art galleries--"
"To be
adult is to be disillusioned. Only realities count. But no matter. The question
remains: Will you serve me loyally?"
"Hell,
no!" Dan snapped.
"Too
bad. I see you mean what you say. It's to be expected, I suppose. Even an
infant fire-cat has fangs."
"You're
damn right I mean it. How did you get Manny and Fiorello on your payroll? I'm
surprised even a couple of bums would go to work for a scavenger like
you."
"I
suppose you refer to the precious pair recruited by Blote. That was a mistake,
I fear. It seemed perfectly reasonable at the time. Tell me, how did you
overcome the Vegan? They're a very capable race, generally speaking."
"You
and he work together, eh?" Dan said. "That makes things a little
clearer. This is the collection station and Blote is the fence."
"Enough
of your conjectures. You leave me no choice but to dispose of you. It's a
nuisance, but it can't be helped. I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to accompany
me down to the vault."
Dan eyed the
door; if he were going to make a break, now was the time--
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