"Yes," said Varnik. "Those two little green ones, they are not playing
for fun. And that black one--" He quivered all over. "I'm afraid. I see
you again, Baya."
He went away. Baya was close onto tears, partly from her own fright,
partly from sheer fury and frustration. But she did not cry. She turned
and looked at Durham.
"What got into you?" she said. "It was all set, and then you had to
louse it up." She cursed him. "It's just like you, Lloyd, to cost me a
nice chunk of money."
"Who are those people, Baya?"
"They didn't tell me. I didn't ask."
"Total strangers, eh?"
"Turned up this afternoon at my apartment. I should think you could
tell. They're not the type _I_ run with."
"No." He frowned, still breathing hard and wiping sweat from his face.
"How did they know about us?"
She shrugged, and said maliciously, "Somebody must have told them.
Well, so long, Lloyd. I wish you all the luck you deserve."
She walked off slowly, patting her hair into place, straightening the
line of her white dress. She did not look back. Durham watched her for
a second. Then he began to walk as fast as he could in the opposite
direction, keeping in the brightest lights. After a bit he found a
stairwalk. He rode up on it through two levels, and all the while the
roots of his hair were prickling and he was darting nervous glances
over his shoulder and into the air over his head.
Jubb. Jubb. Jubb.
He envied Varnik who could go away and forget the whole thing.
It was still night when he reached the surface. The shadow did not
seem to have followed him, but how could you tell? Even a city as
brilliantly lighted as The Hub always has shadowy corners by night. He
kept listening for that high, flat, hooting voice. It did not speak to
him, and he hailed a skycab, appalled by how little time he had left to
catch the pre-dawn ferry.
He made it with no minutes to spare. He found a place on the dark side
and settled himself for the four-hour run, and then everything caught
up to him at once and he began to shake. He sat there in the grip
of a violent reaction, living over again Hawtree's instructions and
the evening with Baya and the nightmare run through the underground
streets, and the coming of the shadow. _The darkbirds will soon fly._
Was that enough for people to kill for? It might be if they had an
interest in those ships, but the young couple did not look the type.
And the shadow?
He shivered and looked out the port. The long thin shadow of the ship
extended itself indefinitely into space, but all around it there was
light, and the curve of the planet below was a blaze of gold. Down
there was Hawtree and a big part of his life. Above and ahead was the
huge cool face of the moon, and that was the future, all unexplored.
Durham clenched his cold hands together between his knees and thought,
I've got to do this, stay sober and do it, a little for Hawtree but
mostly for myself. A man can't look at himself twice the way I did
tonight. Once is all he can stand. And once ought to be enough.
The brightness blurred and swam. Presently he slept, and his dreams
were thronged with shadows hooting, "Jubb! Jubb! Jubb!"
Four hours later Durham walked across the vast main rotunda of the
lunar spaceport, dropping his little bundle of passport and ticket
as casually as he could. He continued on to the newsstand and made a
pretense of looking over the half credit microbooks, waiting.
While he waited he wondered. He wondered how the young couple had known
about Baya. He wondered what the shadow was and where it came from, and
why it had defended him from the young couple, and what was the meaning
of the rather ridiculous word "Jubb." He wondered if he wasn't crazy
not to pick up his ticket to Earth and use it.
He wanted a drink very badly.