Agents of Light and Darkness

'The nerve of some people,' I murmured. 'Thinking they could steal some of the many things you've stolen.'

The Collector said nothing, still hunched over his console. I bounced a few times on the padded floor, checking my weight. If we really were somewhere under the Sea of Tranquility on the Moon, someone had gone to a lot of trouble to make things feel like home. The gravity, air, and temperature all seemed perfectly normal. Which suggested that the Collector must have a lot more high-tech hidden away somewhere else. Suzie prowled restlessly back and forth in the confined space, poking at the hanging silks with the barrel of her gun. She jabbed at the padded floor with one boot heel and sniffed loudly.

'I always said you belonged in a padded cell, Collector.'

'I believe in being comfortable and indulging myself,' he said, finally turning away from his console. 'The padding is there to protect me in the event of sudden, unexpected fluctuations in the artificial gravity. Most of the tech that keeps this place running comes from a possible future I visited, and I have to admit I'm not fully sure how all of it works. I know which buttons to push, but the minute anything goes wrong, I have to fall back on trial and error. Mostly I let my robots run things. You'll meet them later.'

'That's the trouble with looting,' I said. 'There's so rarely enough time to grab the instruction manual as well.'

'I do not loot! I collect and preserve!'

'So where is this famous collection?' said Suzie. 'Don't tell me we came all this way to hang around what looks suspiciously like a tart's boudoir? We are on something of a tight schedule, remember?'

'Right through here,' said the Collector, a little sullenly. 'Follow me.'

He ducked past a deep puce hanging silk and opened a concealed door. He gestured for Suzie and me to go first, but neither of us was having any of that. We made him go first, then followed quickly on his heels as he led us into the biggest damned warehouse I have ever seen. It seemed to stretch away forever, the walls so far off I couldn't even see them. There was no ceiling, just a bright unfocussed glow from somewhere up above. And filling this gigantic warehouse; thousands upon thousands of wooden crates, in every size you could think of. They were stacked in towering piles, each marked with a stenciled number. Narrow aisles ran between them. I looked around, trying to get some idea of the size of the collection, but the sheer number of crates numbed my brain. There was nothing on display, nothing to admire or examine. Just crates.

'This is it?' said Suzie, wrinkling her nose.

'Yes it is, and don't touch anything!' the Collector said severely. 'I've shut down the hidden guns, but my robots are still programmed to protect my collection from any and all harm. I may have to allow your presence for a while, but that's as far as I'll go. You're here for one object only, and I will get that for you. Luckily I was only just packing it up when Merlin grabbed me. I can see I'm going to have to upgrade my security again.'

'Somehow, I'd always pictured something more impressive,' said Suzie. 'Don't you ever put any of the good stuff out, so you can play with it?'

The Collector winced. 'It's much safer this way. I don't encourage visitors, and for me, owning an item is everything. All right, when I first obtain a piece, I do get a certain satisfaction out of holding it, examining it, enjoying all its many qualities... I do like to examine every detail... close-up...'

'If he starts to drool, I may puke,' said Suzie, and I had to nod in agreement.

The Collector scowled at both of us. 'But, once the initial thrill is over, I immediately pack it safely away in here. It's the thrill of the chase I really enjoy. That, and the knowledge that I've done my rivals dirt, that I've got my hands on something, and they haven't. I do so love to crow and preen in all the best newsgroups ... And, of course, everything is computer-scanned before it's put into storage, so I can visit it again at my leisure in virtual mode. After all, some of the more delicate items aren't up to too much... handling. And it's so much easier to find an item on a computer menu than try to dig through all this lot looking for one particular item.'

That was when the first of the robots made its appearance, and Suzie and I immediately lost all interest in what the Collector was saying. The metal figure came striding down the narrow aisle towards us on impossibly slender legs, a tall and spindly thing of shining steel and brass, its clean lines the very definition of art deco. It advanced on us smoothly, unhurriedly, its every movement impossibly graceful. The robot was vaguely humanoid in shape, though the squarish head had been cast to resemble a stylized cat's features, right down to jutting steel whiskers and glowing slit-pupiled eyes. The long-fingered hands ended in vicious claws. More robots appeared silently out of the many interconnecting aisles, until we were faced by a small army of cat-faced automatons. I thought I could detect a faint humming from them, so high it was only just in the range of my hearing. The seemed to be talking to each other. The Collector smiled on them fondly. Suzie's shotgun moved restlessly back and forth in her hands, seeking a target.

'Relax, Suzie,' said the Collector. 'They're only looking you over. Getting used to your presence. Strangers make them nervous. I had them programmed that way. Nothing like a spot of paranoia to keep a guard on his toes. I picked this lot up in a particularly good deal from another possible future. They have basic limited AIs, built around polymerized cat's brains. Simple, obedient, and marvelously malicious when they have to be. They do so enjoy a good chase ... and the torture afterwards. The purr-fect protectors for my collection. They built this whole place for me and run it in my absence. Far better than any fallible human guards, and besides, I don't care for company these days. I prefer to be alone, with my things. My lovely things.'

'No offence, Collector,' said Suzie, 'but you are seriously weird, even for the Nightside.'

'For someone who wasn't trying to offend, I thought you did awfully well,' I said.

'Is all well, master?' said one of the cat-faced robots, in a thrilling female contralto that made Suzie and me look at the Collector in a whole new way.

'All is well,' the Collector said grandly. 'You may all return to your regular duties. My guests will not be staying long. I'll call if I have need of you.'

'As you wish, master,' said the robot, then they all turned smoothly on their steel heels and disappeared back into the many narrow aisles of the warehouse. Suzie watched carefully until they were all gone, then turned back to the beaming Collector.

'Do they all have to call you master?'

'Of course.'

'Doesn't that get creepy after a while?'

'No. Why should it?'

'Don't go there, Suzie,' I said. 'We really don't have the time.'

The Collector led the way down a narrow aisle that to the untrained eye looked exactly like all the others, and Suzie and I followed after him, pulling faces behind his back. We stuck close; the hundreds of interconnecting passageways made up a maze it would clearly be only too easy to get thoroughly lost in. I let my eyes drift over the many crates and cases we passed; a few were labeled as well as numbered. One label said Antarctic Expedition 1936; Do not open till the Elder Ones return. The exterior of the crate was covered in frost, despite the uncomfortable warmth of the warehouse. A much larger crate was labeled simply Roswell 1947. It had air holes. Something inside the crate was growling, in a thoroughly pissed off way. And one crate standing on its own levitated proudly a few inches off the floor. I don't know what was inside that crate, but it smelled awful. Suzie drew my attention to a smaller box that was juddering fiercely, almost shaking itself apart. I tapped the Collector politely on the shoulder, and indicated the box.

'What the hell have you got in there?'

'Perpetual motion machine,' said the Collector. 'Can't figure out how to turn the damned thing off.'

'You have so much amazing stuff here,' I said. 'Who do you share it with? Who else gets to see all the marvels and wonders you've acquired?'

'No-one, of course,' he said, looking at me as though I was crazy.

'But... doesn't half the fun of collecting lie in showing off your treasures to someone else?'

'No,' said the Collector firmly. 'It's all to do with ownership. With knowing it's mine, all mine. I do like to rub my rivals' noses in it, now and again; show them proof that I have some hotly contested item that we've all been after. I drive them crazy with jealousy, then laugh in their faces. But in the end it wouldn't matter to me if no-one knew what I had but me. It's enough to know that I've won. That I'm the best.'