Jack McDevitt - The Devil's Eye

Contrary to the early myths, Atlantis had possessed no advanced technology. The inhabitants had managed to install running water and central heating. But then, so had the Hellenes. Virtually nothing was known of their history. The city had thrived for about six hundred years. It had been built on an island, of course, and not on a continent. Plato had been correct in reporting that it had engaged its continental neighbors in periodic wars. Surviving sculpture confirmed that. But who had served as their kings? What had mattered to them? We had no idea. The city had been discovered late in the third millennium. Unfortunately, no serious effort was made to secure its archeological treasures. Consequently, during the following centuries, it had been stripped. Exploiters descended and took everything they could find. These would have been Alex's progenitors, of course, although he would never have admitted it, and I saw no reason to stir things up since I profited from the same sort of activity. In any case, by the time a security system was installed, more than a thousand years after the discovery, it was far too late. "As far as I know," said Kassel, "there is nothing comparable to this in the Assemblage." He spoke through a voice box that also acted as a translator. It was designed to look like a silver medallion, attached to a chain around his neck. "Nothing comparable whatever." His black diamond eyes reflected his reaction. The end of a world. How must it have felt when the ocean came crashing in? Did they have any warning? Had any managed to escape? Imagine the despair of mothers burdened with young children. "Terrible," said Selotta. "Young mothers, especially. It must have been-" She caught herself, and her eyes flicked shut in embarrassment: She'd forgotten her strategy of not reminding her hosts that everybody's mind, as she'd once commented, lay fully exposed on the table. "-Must have been painful." "It was a long time ago," said Alex. She pressed long, gray fingers against the viewport, as if to hold time at bay. "I have no real experience with places like this. Do they always feel this way?" Kassel was a politician, roughly equivalent to a mayor of a medium-sized city. He had also once been a captain in the Ashiyyurean fleet. "I think it's because of the ocean," he said. "It encases everything, somehow. Preserves it. There's no sense of passing time. Everything freezes." The other passengers had been reluctant about sharing cabin space with the aliens. In the boarding area, everyone had given us a wide berth. The place had filled with whispers, audible even above the symphonic background music. There was no hostility. But the crowd was afraid. Everybody kept their distance. "Stay with me, Louie."

"Keep back." "No, they won't hurt you. But stay here."

When I tried to apologize for the attitude of the other passengers, Kassel said no harm was being done. "Selotta tells me our people were not exactly welcoming when you visited us." "They were fine. I think I just stood out a little." "Eventually," he said, "this will all go away, and we'll stand together as friends and allies." That got Alex's attention. "It's hard to see that happening," he said. "At least in our lifetime." Kassel was less pessimistic. "What we need is a common cause. Something that would inspire us to unite." "That sounds like a common enemy ," I said. "That would do it, of course." He closed his eyes. "But a common enemy would solve one problem only to present us with a greater. No, we need something of a different sort." "What did you have in mind?" "I don't know. A joint challenge. Or a mutual project, perhaps. Like joining our resources to send a mission to Andromeda."

Selotta and Kassel were dressed in terrestrial-style clothing. They wore slacks and loose-fitting shirts. Kassel had even tried wearing an outdoors-man's hat. But it was several sizes too small. He'd taken it off and given it to me when I was unable to conceal my reaction: It looked ridiculous. They tried smiling in an effort to calm everyone. But there was too much of the canines. Their smiles never failed to scare everybody in sight. It was the same on the diver. The captain was supposed to come back, say hello, ask if there was anything he could do for his passengers. But the door to the bridge had stayed shut. "And over here-" His voice came out of the address system. "There, where the light is, was the seat of government. Nobody knows what they called it, or even what kind of government they had. But that's where they made the decisions."

"There's a little bit of 'Ozymandias' in this place," said Selotta. "Except on a larger scale." "You know 'Ozymandias'?" I asked. "Of course." She showed her fangs briefly. "The theme is common at home. One of the most famous of our classical dramas, Koros , plays against the same idea. Vanished glory, look on my works, everything passes. In Koros , the overwhelming symbol is sand. Just like Shelley." There were maybe twelve other passengers in the charter. I was in my chair while we drifted through Atlantis, down the main boulevard, still trying not to think about all that stuff that drifts around in your head that you have no control over. So I glanced at Kassel and wondered how a person would manage an affair if his mate could read his mind. It reminded me how little I really knew about the Mutes. Had Selotta ever cheated? I cringed as the thought intruded itself. Kassel snorted. It was half laughter, half sneeze. "It's okay," he said. He squeezed my shoulder, and his eyes locked with Selotta's. Selotta showed her fangs again. "You try too hard, Chase," she said. "And, if you would know the truth, we share everything." The truth was I didn't know quite what she meant, but she picked that up, too. "Use your imagination," she added. It wasn't a place I wanted to go. Alex looked in my direction and delivered one of those innocent smiles to let me know he understood precisely what was going on. I swear, sometimes his ability to do that left me wondering whether he had a few Mutes in the family.

Eventually the captain showed up. He was wearing a dumb smile and went on about how he hoped we were all comfortable and enjoying the cruise. He made it a point to look everywhere except at his Ashiyyurean passengers. Don't want to stare, you know. His eyes touched mine, and he let me see how

uncomfortable he was, how he wished we'd keep our friends home next time. I knew he was wondering how far the telepathic reach of the aliens extended. Was he safe on the bridge? I had no idea. But he probably wasn't. "He is safe enough," said Selotta, "unless we extend ourselves." "He doesn't mean anything by it," I said. "I know. I have the same sort of reaction to him." When he was safely away, Alex chuckled. Kassel did that deep-throated rumble that passed for a laugh. "He's shallow water, Alex," he said. " You , on the other hand, are hard to read." "Low IQ?" I asked. "He doesn't try to empty his mind," said Selotta. "It's a bad idea to sit and try not to think about things." "So Alex fills it up," added Kassel. "He concentrates on the Konish Dynasty and the kind of silverware they had, and what their plates looked like and why the latter-day glassware is worth so much more than the early stuff." "Ah, you've found me out." There was a touch of pride in Alex's voice. "It's rather like crowd noise," said Kassel, innocently. Alex pretended to take offense. "Konish Dynasty antiques are not crowd noise." "Point of view, my friend. Point of view."

We started for the surface. The captain's voice thanked us for using Atlantis Tours, expressed his hope that we'd enjoyed ourselves, and invited us to come back soon. The other passengers gave us plenty of room as we filed out. The pier was big, but the deck was moving sufficiently that some people grabbed for handrails. Most looked for the taxi area; others made for one of the restaurants. We headed toward a restaurant. We were halfway there when Jay Carmody appeared. Jay was one of Alex's colleagues and a longtime friend. It had been a marvelous two weeks, and Carmody was bringing the wrap-up, a parting gift for the Ashiyyureans. It was in a white box. And it was supposed to be a surprise. To ensure that, neither of us knew what Carmody had gotten. "Just make sure it's something to blow the roof off," Alex had said. But as soon as Carmody started toward us, I heard somebody gasp. Selotta, I think. And she knew. They both knew. "Jay," said Alex, "do you want to show us what's in the box?" "Absolutely." He was glowing. We sat down on adjoining benches, and he removed the lid. The Mutes had both gone absolutely still. It was a brick . Sealed in a plastene container. At first I thought it was a joke, but I'd seen the reaction of our guests. "Atlantis?" asked Alex. Carmody smiled. "From the Temple of Akiva. Rear courtyard. Removed in the thirty-second century by Roger Tomas, donated originally to the London Museum, and later taken to the University of Pennsylvania in Philadelphia. Eventually it wound up in Berlin. It's been around." He reached into his jacket and removed a folded piece of paper. "Certificate of authenticity, signed on behalf of the current owner." He was facing Alex, but he was talking to Selotta and Kassel. "I've gone over the bona fides thoroughly. A complete copy of the record is in the box." He handed it to Alex. "I hope it's satisfactory." Nobody could ever say Alex was in the antiquities business purely for the money. Well, people had said it. In fact, they said it all the time. But it wasn't true. I'll concede he has an affection for the bottom line, but if you show him something like a vase that had once stood in Mesmeranda's villa, or maybe the chair that Remus Alverol had tossed across the room when news arrived of the massacre at Port Walker, his eyes positively lit up. That was what I saw at that moment, watching him gaze down at that brick. Placed by human hands in the courtyard of the goddess, probably on a sunny day like this one, twelve thousand years ago, removed forty-five centuries later by an archeologist who had himself become a legend. This was the single most valuable piece that we'd acquired in the four years we'd been in operation. And now he was about to-