'Shut up, Morton. I'm talking to the moth, not to you.' His jaw dropped and he moved quickly sideways.
'Repeat message,' I said, ignoring him for the moment.
'Airfield… go airfield.'
'Right, go to the airfield. Understood. Over and out.' The moth fluttered away and I patted Morton on the shoulder; I could feel him shivering. 'Come on, cheer up. And stop looking at me as though I were mad. The moth is a communication device, nothing more.'
'Communicating with whom?'
'The less you know, the less trouble you can get into.'
'You really are a spy, aren't you?'
'Yes and no. I'm here on my own business, but certain parties are trying to get me involved in their business. Do you understand?'
'No.'
'Good. Let's find the airfield. At a guess I would say that it is over there where all the lights are and the planes are landing. Coming with me?'
'Do I have a choice? Is there any way of going back? Starting over again? I mean we can't just sneak back into the barracks as if nothing happened, can we?'
'You know that we can't.'
He sighed and nodded his head. 'I know. But I'm just not cut out for the kind of thing that we have been doing. And where is it going to end?'
A good question. With very little hope of an answer at the present time.
'Truthfully - I don't know. But you have my word, Morton, because I got you into this. My first priority, before anything else, is to get you out of trouble and safe. Don't ask how - because I don't know yet.'
'You can't blame yourself. It was I who opened my mouth to that cagaling corporal. That's where it started.' We had been walking while we talked, getting closer and closer to the airfield. The road that we were taking curved around the end of the field, separated from it by a high wire fence, well illuminated by bright lights. On the other side of the fence were grass and taxiways. A heavy freighter had just landed. It trundled by and we watched it go. When it had moved on a flock of black birds swooped down and began poking about in the grass. One of them unfolded its wings and flew toward the fence, landing on the other side. It cocked its head at me and spoke. 'You are not alone.'
'Obviously. He's safe. Is that you, Varod.'
'No. Captain Varod is off-duty.'
'Get him. I don't talk to just any old crow.'
'You will be contacted.'
The bird turned about and opened its beak and spread its wings. It took off without flapping, making a whistling sound.
'Jet powered,' I said. 'Air intake in its mouth. Jet exhaust just where you imagine it might be. Let's walk.' There was the whine of an approaching siren and a detector van came hurtling down the road. It slowed when it passed us, the dish aerial pointing in our direction, then moved on.
'They are really efficient about spotting radio transmission,' I said.
'Is that bird a radio?'
'Among other things. It is remotely controlled and probably has some logic circuitry for hopping about and staying with the other birds. Only when it transmits back to base can it be detected.'
'Where is the base?'
'You don't want to know. Or who is operating it. But I can assure you they mean no harm to this country.'
'Why not?' He spoke with great agitation now. 'Tell them to get to work and get rid of the military and their friends and start elections again. Do you know how long the present state of emergency has been going on? I'll tell you, I checked. The so-called temporary emergency was declared over two hundred years ago. Some emergency! Tell your bird friends they can cause all the trouble they want as far as I'm concerned.'
'I heard that,' the bird said in a deep voice, swooping out of the darkness and landing on my shoulder. 'Our work is not to cause trouble. We labor only to…'
'Varod, shut up,' I said. 'We have limited communication time before the detectors show up again and let us not waste it with speeches. I have found out the invasion plans.'
The bird cocked his eye at me and nodded. 'Very good,' it said. 'Details soonest, I am recording. Where is the invasion site?'
'Not on this planet. They are readying a space fleet to attack another planet.'
'You are sure of this?'
'I eavesdropped. I'm sure.'
'What is the name of the planet?'
'I have no idea.'
'I will return. I must get rid of the detector van.' The bird whistled into the sky leaving the stench of burned jet fuel behind. It did a neat barrel roll and landed on the top of a passing truck. Still broadcasting, I imagine, because a moment later the detector van hurtled by in pursuit of the truck. We walked on.
'What's this about an invasion? What did you find out?'
'Just that. The one in charge is a General Zennor. I imagine it will happen pretty soon from the way that he was talking …'
There was a whistle and a blast of hot air: sharp claws dug into my scalp right through my cap as the bird landed on my head.
'You must discover what planet is being invaded,' it said.
'Find out yourself. Follow them when they take off.'
'Impossible. The nearest spacer with detection gear is four days away. It may not get here in time.'
'Tough. Ouch.'
I rubbed my scalp where the bird had removed some hair when it took off, then bent to pick up my cap. We turned a corner just as another detector vehicle roared by behind us.
'Let's mix with the crowds,' I told Morion. 'That detector is going to get suspicious if it keeps finding us around every time it gets a reading.'
'Could we mix with crowds that are eating and drinking?'
'Good thinking. And I know just where to go.' I stepped off the curb as I said this and stood with my hand raised - directly in front of a truck. The driver hit the brake and squealed to a shivering halt in front of me. 'Driving a little fast, aren't we?' I snarled at the driver.
'I didn't see you, captain…'
'And I know why you didn't see me. Because one of your headlights is burnt out, that's why. But I am feeling generous today. If you take me and my companion to the Officers' Club I might forget I ever saw you.' Not that the driver had any choice. He dropped us in front of the club and roared away. We entered to sample the heady joys which, for the most part, were identical with the noncoms' club except here there were waitresses. About a quarter of the tables were occupied: everyone else must still be on duty. Our steaks and beer appeared with exemplary speed and we dived at them with growls of hunger. We were almost finished when an officer appeared in the doorway and blew a whistle.
'All right, fall out and fall in. Everyone. Emergency muster. Transportation outside. That means you,' he said pointing a mean finger in our direction.
'We just came off-duty, colonel,' I said.
'You're just going back on. And I see that you have eaten which I haven't, so don't cross me boy.'
'Just leaving, sir!'
Morton and I joined the rush, out the door and into the waiting bus. The colonel entered last and the driver pulled away.
'Here is as much as I can tell you,' the colonel said, shouting so he could be heard above the engine's noise. 'Due to reasons that are no concern of yours our current plans have been moved forward. You are going into action and you are going at once!' There were questions and cries of complaint which he shouted down.
'Silence! I know you are all desk-driving fat-gutted base personnel - but you are also soldiers. Because of the acceleration in planning some combat officer transfers will not arrive in time. You officers have all just volunteered
