Those Who Watch

“What if we never reach the right degree of maturity?” Falkner asked.

“We go on waiting.”

“And if we blow ourselves up first?”

“It solves a sticky problem for us, Tom. Will I shock you if I say that we’d probably be happiest if you blew yourselves up? You’re all too powerful already. Once you get out into the galaxy, you’re likely to tip over the Dirna-Kranaz

balance that’s existed for thousands of years. We’re afraid of you. That’s why we’d like to tie you up with treaties, but for us the safest thing would be to have you disappear in a puff of smoke.”

“If that’s the way you feel about us, why don’t you land a couple of dozen meddlers and try to start a nuclear war here?”

Glair said, “Because we’re civilized, Tom.” He was silent for a moment over that. Then he said, “Didn’t you break the covenants by landing on Earth, Glair?”

“I crash-landed, remember? I assure you, it wasn’t my idea.”

“And then, letting me discover what you really were?”

“Necessary to my survival. And in terms of the covenants, it’s far better for me to be hidden away here with you than being examined in some government hospital. The game would really be up, then.”

“But you’ve told the whole story to me, everything about the galactic cold war, the Kranazoi and the rest. What’s to stop me from filing a full report with AOS?”

Her eyes sparkled. “What good would it do you? You know all about the contact reports and how they’re regarded officially. No day goes by without somebody showing up to say he’s had a ride in a flying saucer. The report goes to AOS, AOS checks it out, and the results are inconclusive. There’s no hard data, except for the tracking reports that say something’s up there.”

“But if this report came from an AOS officer—”

“Think, Tom! Haven’t there been reports from all sorts of reputable people? Without hard data—”

“All right, then. I could turn you in along with my report. Here’s a Dirnan, I could say. Ask her about the watchers. Ask her about the Kranazoi. Open her up and see what she’s got under her skin.”

“Yes, you could do that,” Glair conceded. “Except that you wouldn’t do it. In fact, you couldn’t do it.”

“No,” he said quietly. “I couldn’t. If I could, I would have done it at the begi

“Which is why I trusted you. Which is why I still trust you. Which is why I’ve told you all kinds of secret things, in violation of covenant. It’s because I know that you won’t betray me while I’m with you. And after I’ve gone, it won’t matter, since no one would believe you.” She took his hands and put them over her breasts. “Am I right?”

“You’re right, Glair. Only — when are you going to leave me?”

“My legs have nearly healed.”

“Where would you go?”

“There must be rescuers looking for me. I’ll try to get in touch with them. Or to find the other members of my—” she faltered’ — my sexual group.”

“You don’t want to stay, do you?”

“Permanently?”

“Yes. Stay here and live with me?”

She shook her head gently. “I’d love to, Tom. But it would never work. I don’t belong here, and the differences between us would kill everything.”

“I need you, Glair. I want you. I love you.”

“I know, Tom. But be realistic. How will you feel when you grow old and I don’t?”

“You won’t?”

“Fifty years from now I’ll look the way I do today.”

“Fifty years from now I’ll be dead,” he whispered.

“You see? And I have my own people. My — friends.”

“Your mates. Yes. You’re right. Glair. Ships that pass in the night, that’s what we are. I mustn’t fool myself into thinking this can last. I ought to end my sick leave and go back to AOS. And I ought to start saying goodbye to you.” His hands gripped her body convulsively. “Glair!”

She held him.

“I don’t want to say goodbye. I don’t want to give you back to the stars,” he said. He pulled her close to him. She felt the tremor of despair go through him, and she opened herself to him and eased that despair in the only way she could.

And while that was happening, she thought of Vorneen and Mirtin, and whether they were alive. She thought of leaving this house and searching for them. She thought of Dirna. She thought of the ship that had been destroyed, with its little garden and its small gallery of Dirnan works of art.

Then she clasped her arms around Tom Falkner’s broad back and tried to push all such thoughts from her mind. For the moment, at least, she succeeded. For the moment.

Eighteen

All it took, David Bridger told himself, was a little cleverness and a lot of persistence. What was so hard about tracking a few Dirnans? You kept your ears open, you smiled a lot, you asked questions, and you got what you were after.

Of course, he hadn’t actually laid eyes on any of the Dirnans yet. But he was fairly certain that he had found at least one of them, and in a little while he’d know. The first one, perhaps, could lead him to the other two. In any case, finding even one was a major accomplishment. The Kranazoi agent gri

He hunched down in his parked car and kept his eyes trained on Colonel Falkner’s house.

Putting the story together had been an intricate business.

First had come the rumor that flying saucer people had landed in the desert — true enough. Next came the story that a certain officer in AOS had taken part in the search and had found something out there, but instead of reporting it had deliberately concealed it. That was the tale Bridger had picked up in the cocktail lounge. The way it went, the AOS officer had gone out in a half-track to scout the desert, and had come back with something or someone. The only witness had been the driver of the half-track, who wasn’t overly bright, but knew that something fu

Bridger’s next step had been to find out the names of the AOS officers in that search party. That had been hard, but not impossible. In the course of some days of investigation he discovered that the mission had been headed by the local AOS commander, Falkner, and by a Captain Bronstein. They were the logical men to check on. He found their addresses without great trouble; it was amazing how much detective work could be done at the public library, with a telephone book, a city directory, and a file of newspapers. Then he rented a car and settled down to watch their behavior.

Repeated surveillance periods convinced him that Bronstein could not be his man; The captain was hiding nothing in his home except a harried-looking wife and four children.

But this Falkner—

He lived by himself in a large house. Suspicious. No wife; she had divorced him last year, a neighbor said. He kept his windows opaqued all the time. Suspicious, too. He rarely came out, and then only to make what appeared to be brief shopping expeditions. A phone call to Falkner’s office produced the information that he was sick and would be out indefinitely. Because he had a special guest in his home, perhaps?

Bridger watched for five days. He had no clue about what was going on in there, but he was positive that Falkner was harboring one of the missing Dirnans. At last the windows cleared for a moment, and Bridger saw a woman’s face. He had no way of telling that she was Dirnan, of course, but it confirmed some of his suspicions. Now what he had to do was wait until Falkner left the house again, and get inside. He didn’t expect that the Dirnan would answer the doorbell to anyone, but he carried equipment that would cope with any sort of sealing system. Once inside, he could confront the Dirnan, throw a few triggering words at her point blank, and watch her reactions. Unless he was very wrong about all this, she’d be caught off guard and give herself away, and he could take her into custody on a charge of covenant violation. And then— The door was opening. Colonel Falkner was leaving the house. This time he didn’t seem merely to be going shopping, either. Instead of civilian clothes, he wore his uniform, as if he had ended his sick leave and was going to his office. Fine. That gives me all the time I’ll need, Bridger thought. He watched the colonel drive away. Then, pocketing his necessary equipment, Bridger eased his bulky body out of his own car and started across the street to the Falkner house. “David!” a high female voice called. “David Bridger!” The Kranazoi pivoted about, startled. An uncontrollable spasm rocked his nervous system at the interruption of his concentration. A girl was ru