The Mile Long Spaceship (12 page)

"Don't be an idiot; a hint is all that will be needed. When I go to collect my watch, I'll hear or see something suspicious and call the F.B.I. Let them do their own tapping. Far as I'm concerned, you can destroy that tape; in fact, perhaps you'd better do it right now." He watched as the recording was erased and readied for the next usage; and only after that did he call for his car to be sent around for him.

"Ah, Mr. Talbot. How do you do, sir? Your watch is ready." Delimarcarios smiled gently as he ran a practiced eye over the shelving and located the watch. Carefully he laid it down on the counter top and looked expectantly at Talbot.

"Fine, fine. Good as new." Talbot strapped it on and forgot about it, a new suspicion forming quickly in his mind. "How do you know my name? I didn't give it to you?"

"That's right, you didn't." The old man paused hesitantly studying the financier at great length. Finally he said, "Mr. Talbot, I'd like to show you something and explain a few things to you. Perhaps you would change your mind about acquiring this particular property if you knew why it means so much to us."

Talbot wasn't a timid man, but be had learned to practice caution. He glanced dubiously at the shop keeper before he answered, "Only for a minute. My secretary knows where I am and she would become worried if I didn't come back when I told her to expect me. She might even call the police or something."

"Very wise for a man in your position. But it won't take over a few minutes. This way if you will." He led the way to the rear of the shop then without a look back to make sure Talbot was following.

The rear of the shop consisted of benches and shelves piled high with tools, and items in the process of being repaired. There were coils of delicate copper wire, sets of screwdrivers ranging from mammoth in size down to near microscopic. There were lathes both metal and wood, and saws and drills. Talbot was fascinated in spite of himself. It was the most complete shop he had ever seen. But Delimarcarios was beckoning him down a stairway to the basement, and he followed, certain that the old man wouldn't attempt anything against him physically.

The basement was stacked high with cartons. Replacement for appliances, the old man explained and led him still deeper into a sub-basement. This time it was by way of elevator, and Talbot got his first intimation of personal danger. Any organization that had elevators going down so deep under the city shouldn't be tackled singlehandedly, he told himself mutely; but the door had closed, and backing out was out of the question. It seemed to take several minutes before motion ceased and the door silently opened.

Here it was different. The room was White and gold and gleaming. One wall was apparently paneled in rows of lights blinking and winking. "A brain," Talbot whispered, unaware that be did so.

"Not really, Mr. Talbot. But we do have to keep computing constantly so we can locate our receiver. You see, Mr. Talbot, we're sending messages to our government... Not of Earth," he added.

It was then that Talbot saw the second man. This one was shorter than his co-conspirator. He couldn't have been over four feet six inches, if that much. He was seated before the giant board with its myriad lights; and now he laid aside a curious head cap that had given him a pixyish look and joined the two by the entrance of the room. He looked inquiringly at Delimarcarios.

"I decided to enlist Mr. Talbot's aid. He is an intelligent man, and very reasonable. I'm sure that if he is made aware of the importance of our continuing our work, he will gladly withdraw from the scene and allow us to proceed unhindered." The second man looked doubtful but didn't comment and went back to his high stool before the communication set.

"As you see, Mr. Talbot, this is to us what a short wave set is to your people. Many years ago, it was decided that some day Earth would advance to the point where it could be accepted as a member of the Universal Government. But it didn't appear expedient to send ship after ship here to check on it, so this means was chosen to keep the Council advised on the progress being made here. Volunteers are sent here to work for a certain number of years and then are recalled home, being replaced by others."

"Sixty years." Mr. Talbot interrupted hoarsely.

"Oh, you checked. Yes—that's correct. In seventeen years my tenure will end here, and another Delimarcarios will take my place. The name means 'communicator', by the way."

He looked whimsical, and smilingly suggested that they return to the upper level. "Just in case your secretary gets worried, you understand. Another time, when you can stay longer with us, I'll show you around and explain the process of sending messages across the spaces to you. And also, you will want to see our rapid transit system for getting our agents back to their posts quickly on the rare occasions when they feel they must report in person." In silence they rode the elevator back to the basement and ascended the stairs to the rear of the shop. Talbot eyed the older man with a new respect as he asked, "And you receive messages from all over Earth, and send them on to your people?"

"That's right. Our men and women out there gathering data stay on Earth for shorter periods—only ten years in most cases—and they report on all phases of your life. From the advances in medicine to atomic research to working conditions. It all proves very helpful."

"I mean, do you have the only one like this on Earth?" Talbot motioned toward the lower part.

"Oh, I see. Yes, this is the only one. There are certain difficulties, naturally, connected with our agents in some countries, but we manage to keep in contact, nevertheless." He reached high on one of the shelves and brought down a decanter and two glasses.

Absently, Talbot accepted the drink the man placed in his hand and with only part of his mind he heard the following words. Talbot was a man of quick decisions—building a multi-million dollar estate was evidence enough of that. And now he had made another choice. Really he had no choice, this man had agents in other countries—including Russia, no doubt. That made him a spy. It shouldn't be too hard to establish the connection. He caught the last words Delimarcarios was saying.

"... so naturally being a patriot to Earth and to your own country, you can understand why our work is so important. You are a good deal like us in physique, you know—taller even than the average person of our country. I am sure that your intellect is also a good deal like ours. The Universal good takes precedence over personal gains." He held up his glass and proposed a toast, "That the Earth may join the community of worlds in the next hundred years."

They drank, and Mr. Talbot found himself walking away from the shop.

The men at the F. B. I. office said they would investigate.

It was a week later when a personable young man presented his credentials to Mr. Talbot for inspection. His name, he said and the identification bore out, was Keith Winters. He smiled easily as Talbot launched into a tirade at the red tape and slowness of the investigation.

"Mr. Talbot," he said quietly, "I have here some twenty six names of youngsters to whom Mr. Delimarcarios is a foster parent under the U. N. program of providing the necessities of life for war orphans. That's why he gets so much mail from abroad, and why he gets so many phone calls. He is very active in this particular field. And very generous." The young man sat back and waited for Mr. Talbot's reaction.

"You fools! They aren't children—they are adults, short adults. That's why they only stay here for ten years. They must begin to mature and can't pass for children any longer." He stared incredulously at the investigator. "What about the language? How do you account for the fact that no one can understand it? You did tap his wire, didn't you?" For a moment, the prospect of coming out second best nearly overwhelmed him, and his voice grew shrill.

"Mr. Talbot, would you mind coming down to the office with me? My chief would like to talk to you and we'll clear up this thing for you down there."

It was an invitation of the sort that one doesn't generally refuse, and Talbot wasn't very different from the average citizen in recognizing the authority of the F.B.I., when it made such requests.

He shook hands with the chief, Mr. Heustis, and repeated his former question. "Mr. Heustis, why is it that your people are willing to overlook the fact that the calls that man gets are in no known language?" At the questioning look on the face of the government man, he admitted brusquely. "All right. I had it tapped myself. Didn't want to incriminate the operative I hired, so I didn't mention it before. What we heard was actually the entire basis of my suspicions."

"I see. Who was the detective who did it?"

Talbot told him, and Heustis nodded to Winters, who left silently. "Tell me about the calls, Mr. Talbot." Heustis calmly leaned back in his chair and listened without interruption while Talbot recounted the experience with the tape recorder. Then he said simply, "Very interesting."

They waited, with nothing else being said until Winters returned nearly half an hour later. Heustis followed him from the office after excusing himself. It was a long five minutes for Mr. Talbot before he returned again. At his heels was the detective Talbot had hired. When he saw his former boss he hung his head sheepishly.

"Well?" Heustis snapped. "Tell him."

"It's this way, Mr. Talbot. When you said I should tap the wire I knew I'd be messing with Federal stuff and like I told you, I wasn't about to do anything like that. So I thought—what the hell, I'd fix something up for you that couldn't get nobody in trouble. You'd a kept trying until you got someone to do it, and I figured that way I'd just put a stop to it." He shifted his feet and glanced toward the door longingly. "I jumbled a tape myself. I played one backward and recordcd it speeded up, and it came out like we heard."

"I don't believe it!" Talbot screamed jumping to his feet in a purely reflex action. He ran to the detective and attempted to lash out at him with his fists, "You're lying! Tell them the truth! You're lying!"

The dctective held him back easily saying, "Hell, Talbot, you don't have to get sore about it. I can't help it if the old man's straight."

They were separated and the detective sent on his way. Heustis said soothingly, "Relax, Mr. Talbot. We'll check with the interpreters you hired, but if none of them could identify the language, chances are he really did it. Our own translators reported that each child uses his native tongue, and Delimarcarios is obviously a natural linguist."

His tone said that as far as he was concerned it was finished. "You did your duty by informing us of a condition that appeared suspicious to you. You were very commendable in that respect—however our investigation in no way confirms your theory that Delimarcarios is a foreign agent."

"I know he isn't a
foreign
agent, you blundering idiot. He's an agent of another world. All his spies are small as he is, even smaller. He passes them off as children..." Talbot stopped, aware of the exchange of glances between the chief and his subordinate—pitying glances. A cold fury replaced his violent rage instantly, and he became Talbot the tycoon who got whatever he went after.

"I didn't tell you this earlier," he said rationally, realizing that only the truth would keep them from courteously ushering him from the office. "Mainly because I knew you wouldn't believe it, it sounded so melodramatic. And, I didn't want Delimarcarios to connect me with you people. I as much as told him I would cooperate with him. He showed me his broadcasting room with a giant computer that keeps up with the constantly changing position of his world, where his messages are received. And he has what he calls a rapid transit system for transporting the agents. He practically admitted that he has reports from Russia regularly."

He saw that they were trying hard to suppress their smiles, and his attitude became even more frigid, "If you will listen to the ranting of a madman for a few more minutes I'll try to explain it to you as he did to me." They were unimpressed afterward and in desperation he suggested that together they visit the shop and be convinced through the evidence of their own eyes.

After a reluctant glance at the papers on his desk, Heustis agreed, obviously only to get rid of him. During the ride to the nearly-deserted area of the shop Talbot expanded on his description of the sub-basement and its contents. It was he who led the way into the shop.

Delimarcarios looked anxiously at Talbot as they entered the shop. There was a worried pucker between his eyes, and he looked older than before. It must have been in the way he walked, more drawn and much slower. He asked, "Is something wrong?"

Heustis interjected smoothly. "What could be wrong, Mr. Delimarcarios?"

"The watch? It's still working, isn't it?"

Savagely Talbot snapped, "You can drop the pose, Delimarcarios. I told them all about you. These men are from the F.B.I."

Delimarcarios looked at them blankly for a moment. It was Heustis who broke the silence. "Mr. Delimarcarios, would you mind if we take a look around?" He added kindly at the look of confusion on the old man's face, "You don't
have
to allow it. We have no search warrant."

"Please... whatever it is you want, if I can help you in any way... Here, come in, come in." With a perplexed look at Talbot, he held back the drapery over the door and they went into the rear of the shop.

"Not up here." Talbot urged, "This way. You have to go down to the basement." He pointed to the open door and the stairs leading down.

Heustis looked apologetically at the old repairman who said, "Here, I'll turn on the lights for you."

The basement was brightly illuminated and extremely neat as was the whole shop. Talbot turned to the elevator.

It wasn't there. He looked suspiciously at Delimarcarios. "You might as well bring it up. You can't hide an elevator, you know."

Delimarcarios looked enquiringly at the Federal man, "Please," he said pleadingly, "what is it you want?"

"I told you, you old fool! I told them everything! All of it!" Angrily Talbot began pounding on the floor where the elevator had been. "It's under here. The top of it must fit in the floor."