"I can show you things that will completely change your attitude.
Actually, I've acted throughout in the best interests of humanity!"
Dan gestured with the gun. "Don't plan anything clever. I'm not used to
guns. This thing will go off at the least excuse, and then I'd have a
murder to explain."
"That would be an inexcusable blunder on your part!" Snithian keened.
"I'm a very important figure, Slane." He crossed the deep-pile rug to
a glass-doored cabinet. "This," he said, taking out a flat black box,
"contains a fortune in precious stones." He lifted the lid. Dan stepped
closer. A row of brilliant red gems nestled in a bed of cotton.
"Rubies?"
"Flawless--and perfectly matched." Snithian whinnied. "_Perfectly_
matched. Worth a fortune. They're yours, if you cooperate."
"You said you were going to change my attitude. Better get started."
* * * * *
"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.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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