Chapter Two
The address on the business card turned out to be a black skyscraper wrapped with thick silver coils, situated in the financial district of Muggle London. They called it the Lloyds Building. Severus stood across the street like a stone in the surging river of pedestrian traffic. He gazed upwards, wondering why he had agreed to come.
Inside, the lobby was teeming with business people too busy to notice him. He slowly made his way to the guard desk. He was glad to see Lucius standing near, feet apart, hands behind his back as he waited. Lucius had dressed in frilly Dickensian splendor again, as if to make a point of some sort, and had tied his long white-blond hair back in a queue. Severus had opted for nondescript dark clothing from this century, but he still felt incautious and exposed.
The front desk guard finally raised his head and acknowledged their proffered cards. "Through there," he said, pointing with his chin at a nondescript door off to the side.
They found themselves in a dimly-lit stairwell. Their booted feet clanged with every step as they descended ten or twelve stories. At the bottom was a red door, attended by a man in a suit and sunglasses, diffidently perusing yesterday's Guardian. They waited for him to move or speak, but he did neither. Severus cautiously moved past and opened the door so they could both step through and into—a classroom with colorless walls and harsh fluorescent lighting. At least a dozen Muggles were already sitting at desks, waiting. Before he could turn and go back the way he came in, a voice called.
"Gentlemen, you're late. The examination is about to begin. Please take a seat."
They were shown to their seats by the Muggle they recognized as Agent Green, the man Lucius had Stunned in the woods. He showed them no malice; indeed, he appeared highly amused by the pair of them. "Well, if it isn't Mr. Dickens! See you've brought a friend," he said. "Take a seat anywhere. The first test will be a written exam."
"The first test for what?" asked Severus.
"Complete as much as you can." He produced examination booklets and two ballpoint pens apiece. "Your time begins now."
"And how much time?" Agent Green ignored him again.
Severus used a finger to pop the paper seal on the exam. He leafed through the densely-written pages in dismay. "This will take all day," he whispered.
"We have all day," Lucius replied philosophically.
Severus shook his head. "Look at this. Maths, calculus—astrophysics, I think. I know nothing about astrophysics and I'm sure you don't, either. We should leave."
Lucius ignored Severus and picked up a pen, turning it this way and that. "Will you look at this? A perpetually inked quill. Why, I never." He carefully tucked it into his breast pocket before uncapping the second and falling to work. When Severus looked over several minutes later, he saw Lucius doing nothing more than drawing Snitches in the margins.
"What in Merlin's name has gotten into you?" hissed Severus.
"No cheatsies," admonished Lucius, shifting his test away.
Two hours later, Severus' eyes were tired and his writing hands were sore. Besides intermediate physics, the exam had covered Muggle history, geography and current events. Severus had had to skip entire sections, and Lucius, as far as he knew, had done no work at all. But the other man's playful good mood was undimmed by their bad showing.
The second test was no better. After a short break, the candidates were set up in cubicles, where they sat in front illuminated screens that responded to touch. Maps would display on the screen; candidates were meant to demonstrate their knowledge of streets, roadways and rail lines throughout the British Isles.
Severus did better on this exam, having lived in Manchester off and on throughout his life, and having traveled his fair share in Muggle cars. But he worried for Lucius, who was the sort who Apparated or used the Floo Network everywhere he went. Lucius would have no reason to know the salient points of road travel. He had probably done as badly at this exam as the last.
But when they met again outside the classroom, he found Lucius still as cheerful as before. "That was my first computer," he remarked. Other candidates snorted and shook their heads.
Another short break was called, and the hopefuls queued for what turned out to be weak tea in Styrofoam cups. "We should leave before the third exam," said Severus, eyeing his beverage with distaste.
"We're not going anywhere," replied Lucius firmly.
Agent Green reappeared. "Gentlemen, now we come to a weapons test."
The candidates were ushered a large room illuminated only by a few electric lights mounted on the walls. They observed wooden cut-out buildings, with figures resembling people and animals arrayed throughout the room. There was a white table at hand, upon which were stacked intimidating guns, one for each candidate. Severus had the impression of a dueling range such as was used in one's practicum in Defense Against the Dark Arts, only the wooden figures did not move. He grew a little edgy as he wondered whom he was meant to shoot.
Lucius seemed to sense Severus' hesitation, and a quiet growl, pulled him out of the room and into the bright hallway. He looked Severus straight in the eye. "You still don't understand. We have no place else to be. There are no appointments, no meetings, no fancy dress balls. So we have nothing to lose by staying to see what to make of this place.
"This has all been a ruse, this whole day, I feel certain of it," continued Lucius in a low voice. "Remember the man in the pensieve. This organization deals with monsters. They are not looking for physics scholars or bus drivers." He met Severus' gaze with steely grey eyes. Gone was the whimsical fop. In his place was Lucius Malfoy, Death Eater. Severus had not seen this side of Lucius in years, and he felt a frisson of dark excitement. Lucius' words rang true. Severus had lost his purpose; perhaps this was where he would find it again.
"They are looking for men of action," said Severus.
Lucius drew his wand. "Do you know anyone like that?"
Severus smirked before drawing his own wand. "Let's show them what we're made of," he said, and led the way into the dark.
-o0o-
The head of MIB, known only as Quarr, was elderly and stoop-shouldered, with iron-grey hair. Still, there was a presence about him that one did not underestimate.
It was Quarr himself who sat down with MIB's two brightest new recruits. "Gentlemen," he said, "MIB stands for Men in Black. Someone came up with the nickname in the fifties, and it stuck. We are an agency that monitors and polices alien activity in the United Kingdom. Here in the subfloors of the new Lloyds Building, we serve as an interdimensional hub of sorts for arriving and departing aliens. Did you ever see the movie 'Love, Actually'?"
"No."
"Oh, you should. It's brilliant. Something for everyone." He looked at Lucius. "Mr. Malfoy, Agent Green thought you were an alien at first, an unregistered one. When he learned you were human, he was supposed to neurolyze you—that is, use an apparatus that would cause you to forget the whole visit. It's standard protocol. But I had them hold off because I wanted to see if you had what it takes to join our organization. You too, Mr. Snape. We're happy to make your acquaintance as well.
"If you agree to join MIB, you'll each conform to our rules." Quarr shrugged. "Such as they are. They're not as strict as other branches—particularly New York—but there we are. You'll keep your identity a closely-guarded secret. You'll live here at Headquarters … unless you really don't want to: the flats are on the smallish side. But we do insist you dress in attire specially sanctioned by MIB UK."
They left the administrative wing and headed down a wide hallway, the far end of which looked bright and busy. Quarr gestured broadly, warming to his subject. "You see, an agent's entire image is crafted to leave no lasting memory with anyone you encounter. You're a rumor, recognizable only as déjà vu and dismissed just as quickly. Anonymity is your key word, silence your native tongue! You are no longer a part of the system; you will be above the system! You are the Men in Black! Do you understand?"
At last, they reached the airport concourse, where they stood for a time and watched all manner of alien creatures walk, crawl and slither in and out of space terminals. Overhead, a public address system blared in a language they could not fathom. New arrivals were busily checking luggage through Customs, shopping the duty-free market and sipping coffee outside a Starbucks.
They shared a look and a nod. "We understand," Severus told Quarr. "Trust us, we've lived above the system most of our lives."
"And we've dealt with far stranger things than this," added Lucius sardonically.
Later that day, they stood in front of a mirror in the agents' lounge, taking in their new suits.
"Not bad," said Lucius at last, a modicum of surprise coloring his voice.
"At least it's black," replied Severus.
-o0o-
Montgomery Aiken was a short, stout fellow in greasy coveralls. He owned a garage in Croydon that did legitimate car service by day, and became a chop shop by night. Carjackers would bring vehicles to Monty and he would file the serial numbers off, or simply strip the cars down for parts. Business was good and something new happened every night. Monty was a not a happy man, he thought as he worked, but at least he was contented—
His thoughts scattered when there came an unholy screeching sound of metal on metal, unusual even for his bustling business. He leapt out of his office chair and ran into the warehouse. His mechanics had stopped what they were doing and were staring at the second bay door, where a bright-white line of melted metal lengthened and twisted until it became door-shaped. With a loud bang, the door-shaped piece burst into the room as if by magic.
Two men dressed in black suits stepped inside and looked around. Monty was already at the side door, elbowing past his employees to try to get through the scrum.
"Stop where you are," called one of the men crisply. "This shop is surrounded by agents, and you have nowhere to run." He watched as the first of the mechanics finally popped out of the doorway. "Why do they always run?" he drawled.
His companion shrugged. "Would you believe you?"
"I always believe me," replied the first man. "It's the rest of the world that continually disappoints me with its censure." He leveled his gun at Monty. "Mr. Montgomery? A word, please?"
Monty looked back at the gun again and thought it best to play innocent until he knew just how much trouble he was in. He turned back and raised his hands.
"How d'you do, guv'nor?"
"I am Detective Inspector Black, and this is Detective Inspector White."
Monty covered a quick snuffle of laughter. D.I. Black had white-blond hair tied back in a queue, while White's long, unbound hair was black.
D.I. White took him roughly by the shoulder and steered him to the back of the shop. "Let's talk," he growled. "Last night, you received a vintage car, an automobile called a Metropolitan. Red, 1957, quite scored and pitted. You told the young hood that brought it to you that you don't normally take this model, but he said something unusual, didn't he?" White shook Monty's shoulder when Monty did not reply immediately. "Didn't he, Mr. Montgomery?"
"How-how did you know—"
White pressed on. "He told you the vehicle came from outer space, didn't he?"
Monty struggled to hide his surprise. "That's right, guv—Detective Inspector," he replied at last. "I still got it—it's right over there. I don't know from outer space, but there's something unusual about its insides, that's for sure."
At White's command, Monty led them to the other end of the shop. The car in question was up on blocks. The engine, unlike any motor that ever came standard in a Metropolitan, had been disengaged and was hanging above the car by a chain, and the tires leaned against the wall.
Detective Inspector Black nodded. "Yes, I recognize it from the hologram. A planet-hopper, I believe they called it. Apparently some local hooligan stole it out of Larchmont's valet parking."
"Larchmont seems keen to focus our attention on hooligans. The only thing he should be concerned with is his violation of at least twelve interstellar regulations." White kicked a tire savagely. "And it's still rubbish. If he were going to use a Muggle vehicle, why not an MGB? Or a Rolls? What a waste of metal."
Black laughed. "I once heard a rumor Arthur Weasley modified a car like this and actually made it fly."
"It's no rumor," replied White wryly. "It was a Ford Anglia. Saw it myself."
"Oh, you're joking. Did it really fly?"
"Hmmph. Just barely."
Mechanics began filing back into the warehouse, their hands on top of their heads, led by more black-clad police inspectors holding unusually large, silver guns. Monty began to sweat then as he planned what he would say in court. He wondered who was left in the operation he could inform upon in order to reduce his sentence.
D.I. Black addressed his team. "Alright, gentlemen, please begin boxing the parts you'll find on the west end of the shop. But first, bring our new friends to the center of the shop, right here, for reorientation."
White finally released his iron-vise grip on Monty's shoulder and pushed him into the center of the room with the others. "Well, we have come to the end of a long day," said D.I. White with a sneer. "But before we go our separate ways, I have just one thing left to show you." He reached into his breast pocket and drew out an object—a long, silver pen of sorts. Monty's head was awhirl. As all the inspectors donned sunglasses, he finally got up the nerve to ask one question.
"The-the car," he stammered. "Does belong to a VIP, then?"
D.I. Black smiled. "More like a VIA," he replied with a solicitous air.
Then the room went red.
-o0o-
Severus took off his dark glasses and gazed around the warehouse at the collection of slack faces and wide-open eyes. "Damn. What a gullible breed."
"I thought you didn't like neurolyzers," Lucius remarked as he pocketed his own glasses.
"I never said that," replied Severus. "I'll admit, at first I thought, what's the point of carrying another useless bob like this? It just cluttered my pockets."
"And it simply ruins the line of one's jacket," added Lucius.
"What, even with Extension charms?"
"Mm."
"Hadn't noticed."
"What made you change your mind, then?"
"Well, you see how much more efficient it is," replied Severus conversationally. "One is able to Obliviate whole parties at once, rather than one at a time, which has always been an unfortunate limit of the wand."
Lucius nodded. "You have a point. Also, it wasn't created by Muggles, so it has that going for it."
"Merlin, you're still such a snob." Severus remarked. "You been iworking/i with Muggles for months now. And we all come from the same planet. When you think of our lives from a cosmic perspective, aren't we all just … people?"
"Ever the egalitarian," replied Lucius with a stifled yawn. Monty shuffled by at that moment, nearly bumping into Severus. They both looked up and noticed the neurolyzed mechanics had begun wandering brainlessly, caroming off dismantled cars and jostling each other. "You forgot the rest of it again," said Lucius.
"So I did." They donned their shades again. "What's it to be this time—unfortunate power surge? Sudden mass religious fervor?"
"Decisions," sighed Lucius. "But as much as I'd like to see you pull off the latter, let's stick with tried and true."
"Alright, then. Your attention, please," called Severus. Once more, the red flash-pop of the neurolyzer dazzled the eyes of the listless mechanics. "There was an unfortunate power surge in the area. You all received a terrible electrical shocks. You will visit the medical team outside that door and have yourselves checked. Then you will go home. You will forget what you saw here tonight, and you will resume your happy lives. Oh, and Mr. Montgomery?" He clapped Monty on the man's sore shoulder. "There is no such thing as a flying car that can travel through outer space. That will be all."
Monty and the rest of the crew began to make their way out the door and down the block. "Is that all?" asked Lucius. "Why didn't you turn them into law-abiding citizens while you were at it?"
Severus shrugged. "I try not to judge."
-o0o-
A/N Next chapter, we'll finally get down to business. All comments are welcome!