Nightside 02 - Agents of Light and Darkness

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.”
    “That’s all this is?” said Suzie. “Whoever dies with the most toys wins?”
    The Collector shrugged. “I don’t give a damn what happens to any of this stuff once I’m dead and gone. Let it rot, for all I care. I collect because … it’s what I’m good at. The only thing I’ve ever been good at. And things … possessions … can’t hurt you. Can’t leave you.”
    For a moment there, he actually looked human, and vulnerable. It didn’t suit him.
    “Do you want us to keep quiet about the things we’ve seen here?” I asked.
    “Hell no!” he said immediately, all his usual obnoxiousness returning in a moment. “Tell everyone! Drive them mad with curiosity and envy! My problem has always been that I can’t prove how big my collection is without bringing people here to see it, and, of course, I can’t do that. They’d only betray me and try to steal something. There are people who’ve spent their whole lives plotting how to get in here…”
    “You weren’t always the Collector,” I said. “I’ve seen photos of you, with my father, from when you were both younger. What were you … before this?”
    He looked at me, not bothering to hide his surprise. “I thought you knew. I worked for the Authorities, along with Walker and your father. Protecting the Nightside. We were all such friends, in those days. We had such plans, such hopes… but in the end it turned out we all had different plans and different hopes. I retired, before they could fire me, and set up on my own. One day I’ll own the whole damned Nightside. And then I’ll make them listen to me.”
    I was so fascinated by what he was saying and its implications that I didn’t notice all the robots sneaking up on us. Suzie did. Nothing gets past her. She realized I was mesmerized by the Collector’s hints an allusions, and elbowed me firmly in the ribs. I looked up and found we were surrounded by ranks and ranks of the cat-faced robots, standing perfectly still and silent, watching coldly with their glowing cat’s eyes. There were hundreds of the damned things. The Collector realized that I’d finally noticed and stopped talking in mid sentence to laugh cheerfully in my face. He was well out of reach, and I had more sense than to try and make a grab for him. The robots looked decidedly … menacing.
    “I had to keep going until enough of my boys arrived,” he said, almost giggling with self-satisfaction. “You didn’t really think you could see my collection and my home, with all its secrets, and live, did you? To hell with Merlin, and the angels; nothing can touch me here. I’m protected by spells and tech beyond your imagination, and Merlin won’t catch me napping twice. The Unholy Grail is my greatest prize, the jewel of my collection, and I won’t give it up! I’ll never give it up! I’d just stay here, safe on the Moon, until all this nonsense has blown over. And long before then, you’ll be in no condition to betray my secrets to anyone. Perhaps I’ll have what’s left of you stuffed and mounted. Something to brighten up the reception area.”
    “You’d kill the son of an old friend?” I said.
    “Of course,” said the Collector. “Why not?”
    He gestured to the waiting robots, and they surged forward in perfect unison. Suzie opened fire with her shotgun, blasting