"They said it was an engine problem." "Any survivors?" "None." For several moments, no one spoke. Then he continued: "Ed loved mysteries. So naturally the Lantner incident caught his attention. I don't know how many times I heard him tell people how he'd watched the night it happened." He sighed. Shook his head. "Shortly after that, the government issued a warning about the area, that they thought Mutes might have established a base in the region. Everybody was told to stay clear." "So nobody went out there after that?" "Nobody went out there anyhow. Except on that one occasion." We sat. We could hear a couple of people arguing outside.
***
While I watched her, I was thinking how much more difficult it is to be entertaining when you don't have the audience physically in front of you, when they're spread out across an electronic hookup and you can't feed off their reactions. Or even get a read on them. I've done a few appearances with Alex, and I want them sitting out there where I can see them to get my adrenaline flowing. But it didn't seem to bother her. Batavian had been the emcee. He introduced her from the same room we were sitting in. She came in and sat down in the chair that Alex was using and said she was glad to be there, and what a privilege it was, and so on. Most people do that and you know they're kidding. But she meant it. And it was easy to see right from the start that she was enjoying herself. Batavian got out of the way, and Vicki took the helm. She told the audience how much she loved what she did, that the old stories about writers working out of attics while they slugged down whiskey, that their lives were solitary and dreary, that it was hard, painstaking work, was all a lie. "We say that stuff to discourage other people from getting into the business. To keep the competition down. There's nothing as exhilarating as writing a good line or watching a plot come together." Images of her listeners appeared. The audience was composed of young and old, equal numbers of both sexes, people with money and people who were managing. The one characteristic they all shared was enthusiasm. When she'd finished, they applauded for a full minute. Not bad for an audience scattered around the globe. They went to questions. We listened while they asked why she'd decided to write horror, what she did in her spare time, and whether there'd be a sequel to this or that book. When it was done, we sat quietly listening to the wind play against the side of the building. Batavian was still staring at the spot where Vicki's image had been. "She was interested in Aramy Cleev, Alex," he said. "Did you know that? It's true. She was annoyed because Cleev's avatar is restricted." Alex leaned forward. "Really?" That was a surprise. The guy was, after all, a major historical figure. "Yes. You have to have special authorization to talk to it." Alex's eyes, which had been distant, came into sharp focus. "I think," said Batavian, "they just don't trust Cleev. Not even dead. And they don't entirely trust the general population. A lot of people here would love to go back to the Bandahr years."
SEVENTEEN
"It's true, Lia. People walk out of their homes and are never heard from again." "Why, Dr. Stratford? What happens to them?" "Bad spirits get them. It happens every day. It's why you must never wander off into the woods alone."
- Dying to Know You
I spent the next morning strolling around town while Alex stayed in the hotel looking through old newscasts and reading about ULY447 and the Lantner incident. The weather was cold in Moreska, so I treated myself to a new sweater and a matching cap. I put them on and went back out to where the manor had been and stood on the cliff's edge thinking the kind of thoughts you do when the wind is blowing hard at your back and it's a hundred meters straight down to some water and a lot of rocks. When I got back to the hotel in midafternoon, Alex was waiting for me. "I've been looking at the other houses that were blown up that night," he said. "Did you find a connection to Demery?" "Nothing on the net. But I made some calls. One of the houses belonged to William Kelton. The mayor of Mancuso, which is just down the road a few klicks. His wife and daughter died in the blast. And a visitor. Apparently the daughter's fianc . "The wife might be of interest." "Why?" "She was retired. Taught at Travis University for a while. Wrote popular science articles for a number of publications. Did some sort of extradimensional research at Quantum Labs, which is a pretty good haul from where she lived." "She had a link with Demery?" "Yes. Her name was Jennifer. She and Demery were at one time members of the Archimedes Club." "For people interested in math?" "Very good, Chase. They used to compete in problem-solving exercises. Among themselves, and with other groups. A couple of the members I talked to said that Demery and Jennifer were close friends." "Okay. So where does that lead us?" "Let's try to find out. Kelton wasn't home when the explosion happened. But Jennifer was." "What happened to the husband? Kelton?" "He was on a hunting trip. From which he never returned. Disappeared in the woods. No one ever found the body." "Was he hunting alone?" "No. There were five or six of them. The others said he wandered off from the campsite and didn't come back." "Either of them have an avatar?" "Jennifer did. But it's gone now. Incidentally, of the people who lived in the eighteen homes destroyed that night, eleven or twelve had avatars, including some kids. They were all removed. Nobody seems to know who took them down. "Family members who weren't home when their houses were hit either dropped out of sight, or turned up dead. Including some children." "Incredible," I said. "I didn't realize Nicorps was so ruthless." He'd drawn the curtains across the windows, blocking off all but a slash of sunlight. I put my new cap back on. "So, Alex, do we pay a visit to City Hall?"
Only a few remembered Mayor Kelton. It had been, after all, thirty-three years since he'd disappeared during that ill-fated hunting trip. There were two or three around town who'd been staff people at that time. They couldn't find a kind word to say for him. The mayor had been affable and easygoing in public, and a tyrant behind the scenes. He had a short temper, grabbed the credit for everything, never talked to his people except to criticize. "I hated working for him," one of the former staffers told us. "But I wanted a political career, and he was the only set of coattails in the area." Another admitted to having experienced a sense of relief when he'd disappeared. "I felt guilty about it," she said. "But I can't say I was sorry he was gone." Never heard from again. It was the hallmark of people who'd gotten in trouble with the authorities. They
went for a walk and didn't come home. In fact, though, blowing up houses was not an aberration. We combed through twenty-seven years of Aramy Cleev rule and found that the tactic was used on a regular basis. In several of the other instances, it seemed clear that the houses had been taken out to ensure that potentially embarrassing information hadn't gone public. Occasionally, the method had been employed simply to send a message. One older woman, who had served as a consultant, still seemed frightened when discussing the event. "My generation," she said, "will never feel completely comfortable talking politics. You just can't be sure he won't come back." "Kelton?" "Aramy Cleev. Some of the family is still around, and there are a lot of people who'd like to see them return to power." She lowered her voice. "There's talk they have a clone stashed away somewhere. Waiting." She looked past me into that long-gone world. "Why do you think it happened?" Alex asked her. "What possible reason could Nicorps have had?" "I don't know, Mr. Benedict." We were in a modest restaurant across the street from City Hall. It was the middle of the afternoon, so there weren't many customers. In fact, other than us, only two. "In those days there didn't necessarily have to be a reason. People just went away." "Did the mayor ever seem fearful? Did he ever talk about the possibility that something like this might happen?" "Not that I knew about, no." She stirred her tea and looked pained. Frightened. "It strikes me," I said, "that going into politics in that kind of system was dangerous." Across the street a skimmer was landing on the City Hall pad. She watched it set down, and a young couple climbed out. "Probably going to get a marriage license," she said. Then: "No. It wasn't really dangerous. There was a lot of corruption. But as long as you played along, didn't make any noise, you were fine. I didn't have any power, so Nicorps didn't even notice I was there." "Did Cleev himse
lf run for office?" "Oh, sure. Every five years. Like clockwork. The Cleevs always pretended we were a republic. They held elections. And they always won big. Like ninety-nine percent of the vote. But nobody ever said anything about it." She grew thoughtful. "Except Katy Doyle." "What happened to her?" "She was running for mayor. This was before Bill's time. Anyhow, she lost. Almost unanimously. A short time later, she issued a statement about how she'd been wrong about Cleev, and what a great leader he was. Then she left town. We never knew what happened to her. I'm pretty sure she was trying to get clear, but I don't know whether she succeeded." The young couple bounced up the walkway and into the building. I remember thinking they didn't look old enough to be getting married. "One more question," said Alex. "Okay." "It'll seem like a strange one." "That's all right." "His wife. Did you know her?" "Oh, yes. We all knew Jennifer." "Did either of them, Jennifer or Bill, ever talk about far-out stuff? Like aliens? Or the Lantner asteroid? Anything at all like that?" "I'm not sure what the Lantner asteroid is. But, no. The mayor spent his time hunting, playing cards, and socializing. Other than politics, that was all he cared about. And Jenny? I didn't really know her that well, but she seemed to have both feet on the ground."
***
Quantum Labs had gone out of business years before, but there were still a couple of people on the faculty at Travis who remembered Jennifer. "She was okay," one of them told us. "She was quiet. Reserved. I don't think she ever felt comfortable in a classroom. But she had a pretty good reputation as a physicist." He looked hard at us, wondering
whether to say more. Then, what the hell, he plowed ahead: "Bill didn't like her much. He was always running around. Cheated on her. Not that it matters now, I guess. But you never saw them together. Except at weddings or funerals." He looked uncomfortable. "I'm sorry. Speaking ill of the dead and all that. But you asked." "Any idea what happened that night? At their house?" "You mean the explosion?" "Yes." "We always assumed her husband had gotten in over his head somewhere, and Nicorps simply took him out." He shrugged. "Unfortunately for Jenny, she got caught in the blast. Although when Nicorps got involved, everybody got caught in the blast." "Did you ever hear any kind of explanation? What he might have done to get in trouble?" "No. Nothing. Alex, the mayor took care of number one. It always surprised me, what happened, because I would have thought he'd have been the last to run afoul of the security people. But he must have offended somebody ." We were in his office, which he shared with two other instructors. One, a young woman, picked that moment to come in. We did a round of introductions, then she excused herself, glad to meet you, sorry to run off. She picked up a set of notes and was gone. Alex was leaning against a windowsill. "Did either of them have any connection to Edward Demery?" he asked. "Aha. I should have guessed that was coming. And the answer is no. None that I know of." "Not Jennifer either?" "They knew each other. Beyond that, I'm not aware of anything." "Did she have any connection with the Lantner ?" He had to think about it. "The ship that disappeared, right? No. What does that have to do with anything?" "Probably nothing." "Yes. I just don't know of a reason. Both houses were hit the same night. Nicorps probably just had its assassination squads out. Take care of everybody at once. You know they weren't the only people hit? There were fifteen or sixteen other places they got. All around the region." "We know." He shook his head. "It was probably more economical to blow them all up at the same time."
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."
The Devil's Eye ab-4 Page 12
