They completed their little caper, and Champ really did fall out of sight. However, that lasted for only a month. After that month he reappeared. This time, it was an armored car full of gold. But the situation had changed. In order to rob Moses of any possibility of an alibi, Champ had wisely stashed away the testimony of eight eyewitnesses, plus he had filmed the whole robbery from start to finish—not just the three or four gangsters preparing to go in and rob it, but Olga with the safe under her arm, and Moses himself holding some sort of device (a “Force Generator”). Now, if he refused, Moses wasn’t just being threatened with a little tabloid talk. Now he was being threatened with formal legal charges, which meant premature contact under terribly unfavorable conditions. Like many other victims of blackmail, Moses had not foreseen this when he had said yes the first time.
It was a terrible situation. To refuse would have been a crime against his own people. To agree wouldn’t change his position, since now he understood what kind of iron grip had him by the throat. To flee to another city or country didn’t make any sense: he was convinced by this point that Champion’s grip was not just iron, but broad. To immediately leave Earth was also impossible: preparations for transport demanded ten to twelve days. He contacted his people and demanded evacuation in the shortest possible amount of time. Yes, he was forced to commit yet another crime, but at this point that only meant an increase in his debt, an extra three hundred thirty-five kilograms of gold, the price of the necessary delay. When the time came, he fled, having fooled Champion’s agents with his double. He knew that they would come after him; he knew that sooner or later one Hinkus or another would pick up his trail—he only hoped that he would be able to evade them long enough…
“You can believe this or not, Inspector,” Moses concluded. “But I want you to understand that there are only two possibilities. Either you give us the accumulator, and we try and escape—in which case, I repeat, all that we have cost your citizens will be repaid. Or…” He took a sip from his mug. “Please try to understand this, Inspector. I have no right to allow myself to be captured alive by the authorities. It’s my duty, you understand. I cannot risk the future of our worlds. This future is still just beginning. I have failed, but I am after all only the first, and not the last, observer on your Earth. Do you understand, Inspector?”
The only thing I understood was that this was a mess.
“What, really, are you doing here?” I asked.
Moses shook his head.
“I can’t tell you that, Inspector. I researched the possibilities for contact. I prepared the ground. But specifically speaking… And besides, it’s very complicated, Inspector. You aren’t a specialist.”
“Go,” I said. “And send Luarvik in.”
Moses stood up heavily and went out. I rested my elbows on the table and put my head in my hands. The cold Luger felt soothing against my right cheek. For a second I thought about how this Luger and I were joined together now, like Moses and his mug. I was ridiculous. I was pitiful. I hated myself. I hated Zgut with his friendly advice. I hated the entire gang that was gathering here. To believe or not to believe… That was the question, damn it, and the thing was, I believed. It wasn’t my first day on the job, I could tell when people were telling the truth. But that was people—people! And if I believe then they aren’t people to me anymore!… No, I had no right to believe them. To believe—that’s suicide! That would mean to assume a responsibility I have no right to, I don’t want it, I don’t want it, I don’t want it… It’ll crush me, like a bug! Well, at least I caught Hinkus. And I wasn’t letting Moses go, either. Let whatever was going to happen happen, the secret of the Second National robbery and the secret of the armored car’s gold had been uncovered. It was done. And if interplanetary politics were involved, then I—a simple police officer—would let the politicians take care of what it was their business to take care of… I wish I could just faint, I thought in despair. Let them do what they want…
The door creaked open, and I snapped out of it. But it wasn’t Luarvik. Simone came in with the owner. The owner set a cup of coffee in front of me, and Simone pulled the chair away from the wall and sat down in front of me. It seemed to me that he was looking very tired and indeed somehow yellowish.
“Well, have you made a decision, Inspector?” he asked.
“Where’s Luarvik? I asked for Luarvik.”
“Luarvik’s condition has gotten much worse,” Simone said. “Moses is treating him.” He grinned unpleasantly. “You’re going to destroy him, Glebsky, and it will be a terrible thing to do. It’s true, I’ve only known you for two days, but I would have never expected that you’d turn out to be nothing but a stuffed shirt.”
I picked up the cup with my free hand, brought it to my mouth and then put it back down. I couldn’t drink any more coffee. I was sick of it.
“Leave me. All you windbags. Alek only cares about his business, and you, Simone, are just a vacationing intellectual…”
“And what does that make you?” Simone said. “What do you care about? One more medal on your uniform?”
“Yes,” I said coldly. “A medal. I love medals.”
“You’re a small-time cop,” Simone said. “For once in your life, fate has thrown you something. For the first and last time in your life. Inspector Glebsky’s finest hour! A truly important decision is yours to make, and you’re acting like an utter idiot…”
“Shut up,” I said wearily. “Stop jabbering and think for just a minute. Let’s put aside for a minute the fact that Moses is simply a criminal. You, I see, have no understanding whatsoever about the law. You, it seems, imagine that there is one law that exists for people, and another one that exists for ghouls. But let’s forget all that for a second. Let’s say they’re aliens. Let’s say they’re victims of blackmail. The great first contact…” I waved the Luger feebly. “A friendship between worlds, and so on… Here’s a question: what are they doing here on Earth? Moses himself admitted that he was an observer. But what, actually, is he observing? What do they want here?… Don’t grin, don’t grin… We’re talking science fiction now, and in science fiction novels, so far as I remember it, aliens on Earth are usually spying in preparation for an invasion. In your opinion, how should I—a bureaucrat and stuffed shirt—behave in this situation? Should I do my duty, or not? And you, Simone, as an earthling, what do you think is your duty?”
Simone sat quietly, grinning and staring at me. The owner walked over to the window and opened the curtain. I glanced at him.
“Why did you do that?”
The owner didn’t answer immediately. He pressed his face to the glass and looked at the sky.
“I just keep looking, Peter,” he said slowly, without turning around. “I’m waiting, Peter, waiting… You should order the girl to go back to the house. There in the snow, she’s an easy target… She’s not listening to me…”
I set the Luger on the table, picked the mug up with both hands and, closing my eyes, took a few gulps. An easy target… We’re all easy targets here… Suddenly I felt strong hands grab my elbows from behind. I opened my eyes and jerked my arms. The pain in my collarbone was so sharp that I almost lost consciousness.
“Don’t worry, Peter, don’t worry,” the owner said soothingly. “Wait a second.”
Simone had already shoved the Luger into his pocket with a concerned and guilty look.
“Traitors!” I said, surprised.