The Devil's Eye (16 page)

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Authors: Jack McDevitt

Tags: #sf, #Science Fiction, #General, #Adventure, #Fiction, #Benedict; Alex (Fictitious character), #Interstellar travel, #Antiquities

BOOK: The Devil's Eye
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The young man who'd died that night visiting the Keltons was Jaris Cole. All these years later, his mother still carried the pain in her eyes. "You don't get past something like that," she told me. "It's the one thing in my life that I'd change if I could. And the only thing that really mattered." She was an ordinary-looking woman, quiet, introverted, with a resigned smile. Her husband had died a few years after the incident, and there'd been no other children. "At the time," she said, "Jaris was about to marry Marinda. The mayor's daughter. She was a pretty little thing. Would have made a perfect-" She stopped, bit her lip, and waved it away. "The date was set." We were seated in an overlook, protected from the weather, watching the forest absorb a light rain. Alex had stayed away, assuming she'd be more open with me. "You'd have liked her, Chase." "I'm sure I would." "Not at all like her mother." "You didn't like Jennifer?" "Jennifer was all right, I suppose. Not the kind of woman you could get close to, though. But as the wedding date approached, we got to working together, planning things. It was a good time." "I'm sure it was." "We actually became friends." The wind blew some rain in on us, but she didn't seem to mind. "One day we met in the Sunlight Diner, over near the park. You could see it from here if the trees didn't get in the way. We wanted to talk about the details of the ceremony. There'd been a problem about that. The Keltons weren't very religious. The mayor pretended to be, because people wouldn't have voted for him if they knew what he really thought. But Jennifer was the decision-maker in the family, and she was dead
set against a religious ceremony. I'd asked Jaris about that, and he said it was okay, they'd get somebody to bless the marriage later. "Tank wasn't happy with it. My husband. But we decided we'd just let it go. We didn't want to create a problem. So I was going to tell her we'd thought about it and agreed it was okay to go with a civil ceremony. I saved it for last. We finished eating and came here, right where we're sitting now. And I had just raised the subject, when she held up both hands asking me not to go any further. Her face crinkled up like she was about to start crying. She had to take a minute to get her voice under control. Then she said don't worry about it, she really didn't give a damn, do the religious ceremony if we wanted. It would be okay." "Did she say why she'd changed her mind?" "No. Just that it didn't matter." "You didn't
ask
her why?" "Chase, I quit while I was ahead." Her brow furrowed. There was something else, and I waited for her to tell me. Finally, it came: "What she really said, as best I can remember, was: 'Goddam Calient .' Then, 'Elda, it just doesn't matter anymore.'" "
Calient
. What's that?" "It's an island." "Where?" "I don't know. On the other side of the world somewhere." "Elda," I said, "I can imagine how difficult this must be for you." "No. That's all right." She managed a smile. "It helps to talk about it." "Just one more question: You've told this story to other people?" "Yes." "To Vicki Greene?" "Yes," she said. "I did. Do you know Vicki Greene?"
That night, I relayed everything to Alex. Then, while I got a sandwich out of the kitchen, he consulted the AI. When I sat down with him again a few minutes later he wanted to know whether Elda had specified that
Calient
meant the island. "She said she really didn't know
what
Jennifer was referring to. That she
assumed
she meant the island. But she doesn't think she asked." "It's a tourist spot," said Alex. "One of the Golden Isles." "You checked?" "It gets tens of thousands of visitors every year." "Okay." "There are a lot of other
Calient s
around. There is a substantial number of people with that name living within a thousand kilometers of Mancuso. There's a physicist, a mathematician, two dentists, lots of persons of leisure, retired people, screwups, you name it." He shrugged. "We could hunt forever and not come up with the correct reference. "There was also, thirty years ago, a touring musical with the name. And a Calient hotel chain, and a novel titled
Mission to Calient
." "Did you read it?" "Are you serious?" "Sure." "It's about a survey group to a planet that, as far as I can tell, is purely fictional. The mission, however, disappears, and a team is sent to find out what happened." "And-? "I didn't get any further. If you can find the time, you might take a look at it tonight. But I don't think it's going to help us. Despite the missing mission." "Okay."
"There's an aircraft design called the Calient . The thing isn't manufactured anymore. But it was at the time the houses were blown up." "There's more?" "There's a
Calient
that makes the run between Salud Afar and Rimway. It's named for a crewman who fought off a bunch of lunatics who tried to take over a ship. They were going to crash it into Marinopolis in an effort to kill Cleev. That was forty years ago." "You think that might be it?" "Hard to see how." He checked his notebook. "And in geographical sites, aside from the island group, there was also at one time, before the rise of the Bandahrs, a Calient state. There is currently a Calient mountain range and a Calient River. All on another continent, by the way. Calient s helped lead governments and revolutions, two made literary reputations for themselves, one wrote a symphony, sixteen (that I've been able to find) founded or led major corporations, several became well-known entertainers, one accidentally burned down a house with six people in it, three became judges with prominent reputations. One was a serial killer. Another gave his life to rescue a stranger during a flood. "There was another starship with the name, by the way, but it goes way back. It was a second-millennium warship. There was also a Calient mission. That was a long time ago, too. More than seven centuries. It was sent out by the"-he checked the notebook-"Beila Ti civilization. That's the one the Cleevs overthrew." He shook his head. "Did you know there's another star out in the general direction of Callistra?" "I didn't know. Does it matter?" "It's Seepah. A class-G dwarf. It's a long way from here. Over a thousand light-years. When Callistra's directly overhead, Seepah would be about halfway down the western sky." "I've never noticed it." "It isn't visible to the naked eye." "And that's where the Calient mission went?" "Yes." "And they found what-?" "Not much. Eight worlds, one in an early bio state. Single-celled stuff only. They left a series of hyperlight monitors in orbit. One or two at each world." "Okay. Why do we care?" "After about a half century, one shut down." "A half century? You'd expect that." "Right. Thirty or so years later, two more shut down." "Really?" "Simultaneously." "That doesn't seem likely. Unless-Maybe there was a solar flare." Alex shrugged. "Don't know." "What did they find out when they went back to take a look?" "They didn't." "They didn't go back?" "No." "Why not?" "By the time it happened, Beila Ti didn't exist anymore. It had been taken over by the Bandahr. The Cleevs apparently weren't very interested in astronomy." "Well," I said, "I can't see how it connects with anything." "A simultaneous shutdown seems odd." "I'll grant that. Is this place anywhere close to 447, the asteroid with the monument?" "No. It's a couple of thousand light-years away." "Okay. I think we should dismiss it and stick to the problem at hand." "It
is
suggestive, Chase." "Of what?"
He changed the subject: "Actually there
are
other Calient s. A number of schools have the name, some parks, at least one zoo, and two social clubs. There was even, at the time the monitors shut down, a comedian." "Have you tried asking the AI to sort through it?" "We need Jacob," he said. "This one's okay, but he has a hard time if I can't give him exact parameters. But the answer is
yes
. Nobody, and nothing, as far as the AI can see, has a direct connection with any of the Keltons, with Edward Demery, or with the prospective groom. Well, that's not entirely true. One of them was a service technician who worked on the power at the groom's home three years before he met Jennifer's daughter." We sat looking at each other. "Maybe it's time for us to go home," I said. "We've made a reasonable effort." Those brown eyes brightened. "I'm surprised that you'd give up so easily, Chase." "So easily? We've come a zillion light-years. We've traveled all over the world. Talked to half the people on the planet. Lost a skimmer. Damn near got eaten. And I know you don't believe me, but I ran into a ghost. I say we take the hint." We had the HV on, sound down. A journalist was seated at a desk marked GLOBAL NEWS. He looked excited. Alex increased the volume.
"- Another incursion. Apparently, a Mute warship and a pair of Coalition destroyers traded shots out near Naramitsu. Preliminary reports indicate the Mute was driven off. No casualties reported. Global News will keep you updated as this story comes in."
"Alex, what's really going on?" "I wish I knew," he said. "So what's next?" "Mikel Wexler owns an extensive estate." "Really?" "And he's accumulated over the last few years a substantial interest in two major corporations." "So why do we care?" "Maybe we don't. But the estate is up for sale." "Okay." "And he's recently sold off his other holdings." "That's strange. Is he expecting an economic downturn?" "I don't know. You may be right. Maybe we
do
deserve some time off. A few days of vacation." "Don't tell me. We're talking about the Golden Isles."
EIGHTEEN
Ultimately everything is math. The number of protons in a given element, the gravitational force that binds Rimway to the sun, the number of heartbeats you get. Learn to count, my boy. Therein lies wisdom.
- Wish You Were Here
Calient was the principal island in a group of four in the middle of the Balin Sea. These were the Golden Isles. All had beautiful beaches, and the nightclubs and restaurants were spread equitably among the four. None of the islands measured as much as seven kilometers at its widest. They would have been an ideal location for Vicki. Two of the islands had occult connections. On Khyber Island, something spoke in the winds. And Calient claimed a ghostly yacht.
The weather was warm when we arrived. Alex went to work with the house AI while I sat out by the pool. Topless again. I told myself a little exhibitionism was good for the soul, but I don't think I could ever get used to it. The yacht legend had it that two lovers, one on Calient and the other on Khyber (though sometimes he was from Sanikaw) had been kept apart by feuding families. It was the classic situation. The boy eventually made off with the family's yacht, determined to collect his lover and head for a more rational place. But a storm blew up during the crossing. The family discovered he was missing, and the boat as well. They called him, pleaded with him to return. The boy refused, and the storm overwhelmed him. Wreckage washed ashore a day or two later. The lover was never found. According to the story, on dark nights, when neither Callistra nor the galactic rim is visible, the yacht can be seen, still trying to get across the narrow strip of water to Khyber Island. People on Khyber claim the girl's spirit roams the beaches at such times, waiting for him. It's an intriguing tale, and I don't think I've ever been to a remote place that doesn't have one like it. It was the sort of story that would have enchanted Vicki. That said, we found no indication she'd ever visited the Golden Isles. There was no mention of her in the news archives. Nobody remembered her. One of the bookstores had a mystery club, and the coordinator was shocked to learn that Vicki Greene might have been in the Isles and she hadn't been aware of it. Alex came out after a while. I picked up the notebook I'd brought out and laid it on my chest. Casually, of course. He sat down in the beach chair beside me and pretended nothing unusual was going on. I let it go for a while. Then: "Any luck?" "Maybe." He glanced at the notebook. "Enjoying yourself?" "As a matter of fact, yes." "Good," he said. "I think we wasted our time coming out here." "I like islands." "That's the right spirit."
I met a couple of the local guys, one of whom was maybe the funniest character I've ever seen. I remember regretting that he lived so far away. When he asked about my accent-"You're not from around here, are you?"-we both had a good laugh. "Not exactly," I said. His name was Charjek. A strange name. He called himself
Charger
, and it fit. We had a good time. Next day we hit the beach. That night we went to dinner and a show. He asked whether I'd be staying on Calient and looked genuinely unhappy when I told him we'd be going home shortly. We traded contact information, assured each other we'd get together again, and even sent each other occasional messages later. I never saw him again, though, after those few days. I can't recapture it now, but nobody has ever made me laugh so much.
Two days later I said good-bye to Charger and we returned to Moreska. We arrived on a cold, rainy morning, got off the plane, and started over to Sunlight Travel to pick up a shuttle we'd booked. Instead we picked up something else. A man and a woman were waiting for us. They showed us credentials identifying them as agents of the Coalition Security Service. CSS. "We have a skimmer topside," the woman said without inflection. Her name was Krestoff. "We'd appreciate it if you'd come with us." She was attractive, in a cold, hard way. Blond hair, brown eyes, all business. Alex stood his ground. "Why?" Her partner was big and might have been a professional bong thrower. He smiled down at Alex. Krestoff shook her head. "You've an appointment." "With whom? You mind telling us what this is about?" "I don't know the details, Mr. Benedict. We are here simply to provide escort. Now, I'll need your comm links." Alex's notebook was clipped to a pocket. "And that, too, please."
"Are we under arrest?" "Not yet," she said.
NINETEEN
The ideal death, the death to be hoped for, is one that comes swiftly, out of the night, that takes you while you're enjoying the strawberries, and sweeps you away before you've had time even to know that the lights have gone out.
- Midnight and Roses
"Either of you have a weapon?" asked Krestoff. It was in my bag. She led us out onto the airfield. A white skimmer was waiting, with Coalition markings on its hull. Our bags appeared. They opened them, did a quick search, confiscated my scrambler, and gave me a receipt for it. Then they directed us to get on board. They climbed in behind us. The pilot was in a separate compartment behind a closed door. Bong pulled the hatch shut, and Krestoff told the pilot to go. He said something about overtime, and we lifted off in the twilight and turned south. "Where are we going?" Alex asked. "To a location where you'll be quite safe, Mr. Benedict." "I'm safe here." "You've no reason to be worried," she said. That of course is exactly the kind of remark that scares the hell out of me.

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