The Devil's Eye ab-4

by Jack McDevitt

  I didn't bother with the skimmer's radio. I had taken two links on that trip. One was a necklace, the other a bracelet. I was wearing the bracelet that day. I called on the distress frequency. A woman responded: "Shore Watch. Go ahead." "Shore Watch, we are going down. Need immediate assistance."

  "Please keep calm and describe your emergency."

  "We've lost control of our aircraft." We were losing altitude again. This time, though, it wasn't a free fall. Still, we were going down at a good clip.

  "Your location, please?"

  "Lyra, where are we?" Lyra provided a set of coordinates, and the Shore Watch said they'd be right there. "Better make it quick," I said. We continued to brake. Suddenly, my weight came back. "Alex," I said, "the antigravs are off again." "Have you resolved your problem?" asked the voice from the Shore Watch. "Negative," I said. And, to Alex: "Hang on."

  No need to worry about that.

  We plowed into the top of a wave, bounced, and came down hard. The impact threw me against the harness. I heard Alex saying, "Come on, Chase," as if it were my fault. Then the cabin was filling with water, and he was trying to get me out of my seat. He'd come to my rescue like this once before, so I thought it was a good sign. But everything was getting dark and starting to spin. "-with me, Chase," he was saying. "Stay with me. I can't do this alone."

  But he did. When I saw daylight again, we were in the water, hanging on to something, riding down the side of a wave. It was one of the chairs. "You okay?" he asked. I looked around. Ocean in all directions. No sign of the skimmer. I needed a minute before I could speak. "I've been better," I said at last. "Nothing broken?" Everything seemed okay. "I don't think so." "All right. I think if there were, you'd know it." "I guess. Where's the skimmer?" "Down like a rock." He watched me get hold of the chair. "Don't put too much weight on it." "Okay." He let me go. I kicked a little bit to stay up. "They should be here soon," he said. "I hope. How long's it been?" "Just a few minutes."

  "Have you called the Shore Watch?" "Since we came down? No." "Why not?" "I was too busy trying to keep your head out of the water." "Okay. Let's try it again." I got the same operator. "They're on the way," she said. "Should be about fifteen minutes." "Good. Thanks."

  "Keep transmitting."

  I left it on. "Alex, thanks for getting me out of there." "It's okay. Keep it in mind next time you want a raise." Two people hanging on to one chair doesn't work well. Whenever either of us put a little weight on it, it went under. "Chase," he said, "you ever hear of a malfunction like this?" "It was deliberate," I said. "Somebody had to go in and either jerry the AI or attach a parasite system." "You're sure?" "Absolutely. Even if the AI had simply failed, the skimmer wouldn't have behaved the way it did. What I can't figure is why the power came back at the end." "That's because they didn't want us dead." "Really?" I looked around at the empty sky. "If we got killed, it would attract a lot of attention. And it would connect with Vicki. Somebody wants us to go away but doesn't want to deal with publicity." "It's a warning?" "Yes. I'd say so." Another wave came by. We rode over it. "What the hell did she get into?"

  ***

  We were drifting, looking at each other, watching for the rescue vehicle, when Alex's eyes widened. He was staring past my shoulder. I turned. Forty or fifty meters away, a long black tail had risen out of the water. There was a fork at the end. It stood erect for a few seconds, then splashed down. "Better hurry," I told the Shore Watch. Whatever was in the water didn't seem to be going anywhere. The tail lifted and fell again. "Not good," said Alex. I was grateful to discover I hadn't lost my scrambler. There was no way to be sure it could screw up the nervous system of a fish in an ocean on another world, but they're supposed to work on just about anything. I held it out of the water and tried to shake it dry. "Will it work after getting dunked?" Alex asked. "It's supposed to work underwater." "Then why are you trying to dry it off?" "Feels like the right thing to do." I set it for lethal . "Are you trying to start an argument with me?" "No." "I mean, that's probably not a good idea. I'm the only one here with a gun." "I know." "You should think about carrying one." "Chase, normally I have no need for one. I'm an antiquarian." "It's the one time you do need one that makes it worthwhile." The tail vanished, leaving behind swirling water. Then it reappeared, closer to us, stood erect, and slapped down again. I watched it slide beneath the surface. The water grew quiet. "Can you see anything?" asked Alex. "No." I handed him my bracelet. "Keep it out of the water so they don't lose the signal." "Okay. What are you going to do?"

  "Take a look." "Not a good idea, Chase." "Neither is staying here. I'll be back in a minute."

  The water was clear, and I saw the creature off to one side. It was flat and long, shaped like a spade, maybe three or four times as big as I was. Two eyes centered close together on the snout watched Alex. Rotated to me. Went back to Alex. Alex's legs hung down. He couldn't keep them still without sinking. They must have looked like a tasty morsel. The mouth opened to reveal several rows of teeth. I figured the underwater range of the scrambler was about half the distance to the creature. It was going to have to get closer. I didn't think there'd be any problem arranging that. I went back up. "It's interested in us," I said. Alex took a deep breath. No joking around this time. "What is it?" "It looks a little like a ray. It's a big fish with a lot of teeth." "We're not its natural prey," he said. "By the time it figures that out, you and I will be hamburger." "There's another one." "Where?" He pointed. Another tail hoisted well out of the water. On the opposite side of us. It curled and straightened and curled again, then splashed down. "You think they hunt in tandem?" "Maybe. We'd better assume they do." We were both thinking how it would've been a good time for a second weapon. "Try not to move," I told him. I went down again. They were both watching us. They were spaced exactly opposite each other, although the newcomer was farther away. But it was approaching. I suspected that when both were at the same range, they'd attack. If that happened, and they were as quick as they looked, I thought I'd be able to take out one, but not both. I surfaced again. "How's it look?" he said. "Okay. Leave it to me." "What are you going to do?" "Explain later." At least I hoped I would. "Just keep still. Don't move." I took a deep breath and went back down. The creatures were lining up on us, getting ready. I had to take the initiative away from them. I kicked off in the direction of the first one. It started toward me. That long mouth opened again, and I looked past those incisors and saw a serpentine tongue. It charged head-on, no sign of caution, no indication it saw any reason to fear me. I was easy pickings. When it got within range, I fired a full charge past the teeth and down its throat. The mouth gaped wide. The tongue snaked out and whipped through the water. Then the creature spasmed. It thrashed and rolled over and, trailing black blood, dived into the depths. I spun away, looking for the other one. But we got lucky: Instead of coming after Alex or me, the creature went after its partner. Maybe it was trying to help. More likely, it was the promise of extra meat. I went back up, and the water stayed quiet.

  It's fair to say we were relieved to see the Patrol appear in the eastern sky. We were floating, hanging on to the chair, scanning the ocean for more tails. The aircraft grew larger, and they asked whether we were okay and explained how they'd have us out of the water in a minute. It was a black-and-white skimmer, with SHORE WATCH imprinted on its hull. A door opened, and two uniformed crewmen appeared and waved. They tossed down a rope ladder, and the skimmer maneuvered until it was directly overhead. Then I climbed up, and they hauled me in. Somebody handed me a cup with a hot brew. They pulled Alex in moments later. When they had us safely on board, they asked what had happened to our skimmer. "Don't know," I said. "It just went out of control."

  One of the crew was a tall, athletic woman with red hair. "You guys were pretty lucky," she said. "Why's that?" Alex asked. "You don't want to go swimming in these waters." "They dangerous?" She heaved a sigh of relief. "You have no idea, champ."

  TWELVE

  There's something in the woods, Becky. We don't
know what it is. No one has ever seen it. But on cold nights, when the wind turns around and comes in from the east, you can feel it. And that's when you want to stay inside and keep the door locked.

  - Etude in Black

  They took us back to where we'd started. We spent two days filling out forms for both the Shore Watch and Reliable Transport. Then we booked our crossing with a commercial carrier. We were waiting next morning for our flight to leave when Rob Peifer called. "I heard you guys were in an accident." "Skimmer went down," said Alex.

  "You okay?"

  "We're fine. Got a little wet."

  "I don't guess you got any pictures?"

  "No, Rob. Sorry. I never thought about it."

  "Okay. We have some file shots we can use."

  Alex's eyes rolled skyward. "Why not just let it go, Rob? It's not worth reporting."

  "Are you kidding me? 'Alex Benedict Down at Sea.' 'Benedict Rides Skimmer into Ocean near Maillot.'"

  "Where's Maillot?" Alex asked.

  "I'd like to do an interview, Alex. But the setting's not right. I wonder if you and what's-her-name, Chase, would want to go somewhere where we could get the ocean in the background? One of the hotels, maybe?"

  "Rob, we're on the run at the moment. We have a flight to catch."

  "Okay. Sure. We can fill in the background later. Listen, Alex, why don't you tell me how you were feeling as you hit the water?"

  Alex took a deep breath. "Scared, Rob."

  We made it safely across the Crystal Sea on our second try, and landed at Port Arbor. From there we boarded a train to Packwood, which was a coastal town whose principal claim to fame was Packwood University. It was one of the sites where Vicki had spoken. According to one of the history teachers, she'd spent a day there, won over the crowds, and even some skeptical literature teachers with her wit and charm. They ran the presentation for us, and she was as energetic as ever.

  Vicki had traveled to the Haunted Forest by canoe, so of course we did the same. We set off downriver at dawn. The countryside was wide-open, mostly plains with periodic patches of forest, a few scattered houses, and an occasional town. The river was narrow for the most part, and generally calm, with almost no rough water. Neither of us was in shape to do nonstop paddling, so for long periods of time we simply

  allowed the current to carry us. Eventually it carried us to the edge of the Haunted Forest. We plunged ahead. The birds in the area were deafening. They screamed and squawked, and something threw nuts and deadwood down at us. There was also a creature with the biggest wingspan I've ever seen. Mostly it simply glided back and forth overhead, watching something we couldn't see. I thought for a while it was going to target us, so despite local assurances that there were no predators, I sat for long periods with the scrambler handy. It never bothered us though. There was also something that looked like a flying beanbag. It drifted just above the treetops, sometimes touching down and apparently feeding on dead leaves, then casting loose again. When the sun went down, we got off the river, broke out our sleeping bags, and built a fire. We spent the night in a clearing. Alex tried reading, but he drew too many bugs. With not much else to do, we simply sat and talked and watched Callistra climb the sky. A cool breeze showed up after a while and drove off the insects. Sophora was also in the sky. Its paleness underscored the brilliance of the star. "You know," I said, "if I were a writer and I wanted to come here to get my creative juices flowing, the major reason would be that sky." He looked up at it. "Especially if you wrote horror." "I wonder what kind of star it is?" "I don't know." I consulted my link. "It's a giant blue variable," it said, "approximately 1.2 million times as bright as Salud Afar's sun. It's farther out from the galactic rim than Salud Afar. Range from Salud Afar-"

  I heard thunder in the west.

  "- twelve hundred light-years."

  "How much brighter?" he asked. "One point two million." "Oh," he said. "That's different. I thought you said one point three ."

  We'd heard several different opinions about what haunted the forest. There were claims for animated vegetation, mists that moved of their own accord, voices in the trees. I lay there thinking how easily people can be persuaded to believe such things. And I won't deny it was an opportunity to relish my own superiority. I knew better. The fire had died out, and Callistra was about to sink into the trees. The temperature was dropping, so I didn't want to get out of my sleeping bag and play with the logs. But my imagination took hold. Branches creaked a bit too much; occasionally I could hear a squishy sort of sound, like something walking through a marsh. Except that the ground was solid. And, yes, I know ordinarily that's no big deal, but it was an utterly still night. There was zero wind, and aside from the vegetative slooshing and cracking, and the squishes, the only sounds came from insects and the river. It didn't really scare me. But I've slept better.

  Neither of us was very big on food rations, the kind they pack in containers and that cook themselves. Alex had lived on the things in the old days when he'd gone to excavations with Gabe, but he'd since become accustomed to life's more ample luxuries. Moreover, he was having second thoughts about the wisdom of traveling by canoe. But it was late to think about that. Anyhow, we skipped breakfast, packed everything up, and headed downriver, looking for a place where we could get the local equivalent of ham and eggs. The first town we came to-I don't recall its name-had a caf just off the pier. We beached the canoe, went inside, and got a table by the window where we could keep an eye on our means of transport. It was a small place, maybe eight tables and booths, but the bacon and fries smelled good. We ordered the coffee-equivalent and sat back to relax. There were maybe five other people in the place. The mood was subdued, as if someone had died. The

  waiters were all bots. Alex got up and walked over to one of the other tables. There were two men, guys who worked on the river probably. One was massive enough to sink our canoe. The other wasn't much more than a kid. He asked them if something was wrong. "Goddam Mutes again," the big one said. "What happened?" "They're shooting at us." "At Kumpallah," added the kid. Kumpallah was a Confederate world, thirty thousand light-years away. "Well," he said, "at least you don't have to worry about them out here." They looked at one another. "Where you been, bud?" said the big one. "They've been here." Alex angled himself so he could face away from the sun. "I've heard about that." "It's just a matter of time before we'll have to take the sons of bitches on. Isn't it, Par?" "Looks like," Par said. "They keep coming. Starting trouble." "Kilgore keeps telling us," said the big one, "we shouldn't get excited. That they won't bother us. But

  ***

  Eventually we pulled up in front of a marker:

  BESSARLIK Oldest Settlement on Salud Afar Believed to Be Nonhuman 2,000 B.A.

  The place was fenced off. There were more signs: ABSOLUTELY NO CAMPING. And OPEN DAWN TO DUSK. And CAMPING PROHIBITED EXCEPT IN DESIGNATED AREAS. The date, of course, referred to two thousand years before the arrival of the Aquila . The trees were thick, and if there'd ever been a city there, no part of it remained. "We should have brought a scanner," I said. Alex shook his head. "It's another scam." "How do you know?" "I've done the research. This place was pulled together three centuries ago to make money for the locals." I was getting annoyed. "Then why'd we bother coming?" "Because Vicki came. And I'd be surprised if she didn't know the history of the place, too. Chase, it's entertainment. You come and let your imagination take over. That's what it's all about. Nobody's serious about any of this stuff." We'd arrived in the early evening. There was a boat-rental operation at the end of a pier, and a campground. Along the riverbank were a sandwich shop, a souvenir store, and an inn. This, collectively, was the Hub. A few visitors were walking around, taking pictures. A tourist boat pulled up while we were there. Everybody got off and piled into the inn. We followed and found a young lady watering plants. I got the assignment to ask the questions, since Alex thought my chemistry with her would be better. Had she ever heard of Vicki Greene? "Who?" "The horror writer." She shook her head
. "If you ask at the desk, they can tell you whether she's here." "She wouldn't be here now." I showed her a hologram. Vicki dressed for a day in the woods-baggy white slacks, gray pullover reading UNIVERSITY OF KHARMAIN, and a green cap like the one Downhome Smith wears in the sims.

  She took a long look and shook her head. "Sorry," she said. We'd made a mistake allowing the people from the tour boat to get in first. So we waited awhile, and finally I got to the service desk. The clerk was a middle-aged woman with a distinct sense that the hotel's visitors were people with too much leisure time on their hands. Unlike her, a busy workingwoman. "We have a friend who may have stayed here," I said. "About five or six months ago. Vicki Greene? Could you look her up and tell me whether she was ever at the inn?" She gave me a polite smile. "I'm sorry. It's against the privacy laws. We're not permitted to reveal that kind of information without the consent of the subject." She talked as if that should have been obvious. "It's important that we find her," I said. "I'm sorry. I can't help you." I showed her some money. "I'd make it worth your while." "If something happened, I'd get in trouble. Now, if you decide you want a room, let me know. Excuse me." And she turned away. Alex had been listening, and I saw disapproval in his eyes. "You sounded like a politician." "You do it next time." He looked across the lobby. "We shouldn't have bothered with this place," he said. "Let's go." "What's the plan?" "It's a safe assumption that she wouldn't come all the way out here and stay at an inn." "Why?" "We know she came for the atmosphere. She rented a canoe when she could have flown in." He shook his head. "She stayed outside." "In the campground?" "No. And for the same reason she wouldn't stay here ." The young lady with the watering can caught my attention. "Miss," she said, "I couldn't help overhearing. We don't recommend camping outside other than in the official areas." "Why not?" asked Alex. She was embarrassed. "It might be dangerous." "Why?" "Well, people say there's something out there-" "More advertising," Alex said. The woman stopped. "Pardon?" "It's okay. Thanks for the warning." The doors opened, and we went out into the fading sunlight. An hour later we were camped just off the northern edge of the preserve. We built a fire and sat poking at it and drinking coffee. "You know," I said, "if we're really trying to duplicate her experience, we've got it wrong." "How do you mean, Chase?" "I can't answer for you , but I think the trip down this river would feel a lot different if I were alone." "I know. But I don't think we need to reproduce everything exactly. Just figure out what her frame of mind might have been." "Ready to go home," I said. "You're not much of a camper, are you, Chase?"