Jack McDevitt - The Devil's Eye

"Yes," I said.

"We've alerted the Patrol and they'll be on the lookout for you."

"Okay. Thanks."

"Try to keep calm. Everything's going to be okay."

So far, so good. I rode patiently up into black skies. The heating system couldn't keep up, so I wrapped myself in one of the blankets. The galactic haze was rising in the east. And we were burning fuel at a steady rate. When I thought I'd reached more or less the space-station altitude, I burned some more to level off. And I began looking for lights. The messages from groundside went on without a break. Lady in the taxi, it's okay. We're watching you. Samuels has been notified. Help is on the way. Please remain calm. Despite all that, the sky remained empty. My air had been leaking out, and I was beginning to feel it. I reached back for the mask and put it on. The flow of oxygen felt good. I don't think I'd been aware how foul the air had gotten. I began breathing regularly and sat back to await rescue. The ride up from the surface had consumed more fuel than I'd hoped, and I had maybe fifty minutes before the spike would shut down. I couldn't come close to accelerating to orbital speed, so once that happened I'd simply fall back to the ground. Well, as close to the ground as I would get before burning up. It was time to take matters into my own hands. I got on the radio. "Samuels Ops," I said, "this is Janey Armitage." I made up the name. "I'm in a runaway taxi. Something went wrong with the spike, and it's taken me God knows where. Please help. I'll leave the transmit on so you can track me. Please hurry." I looked out at the empty skies. "The fuel gauge is near empty, and I don't know what will happen after that." They would know, of course. And they answered immediately: "Ms. Armitage, we heard you were coming. Patrol vehicle is already on its way. Should be there anytime." Then, a gag: "What kind of taxi are you riding anyhow?"

"Don't know," I said. "But I'll be glad to get out of here."

"Just sit tight, ma'am. They'll be right there." Moments later I saw lights. Coming from ahead. And another voice on the radio: "Ms. Armitage, this is Orbital Delta. We see you, but we may have a problem."

Chilling words, those. The guy wasn't even close to me yet. "What's the problem?" I said.

"We're prepping a second vehicle to do the actual rescue. The taxi's too big for our cargo area. We can't fit it on board."

I'd debated picking up a pressure suit in case we had to do a space walk, but I hadn't been able to see any way to explain its presence to the rescuers. Hiding the oxygen tank would be tough enough. If they figured out that I'd engineered the whole thing, they'd waste no time turning me over to the authorities. So I'd had to take my chances. "How long before it gets here?"

"It won't be long." " How long?" "Probably within the hour."

"That's not going to work."

"What's your situation?"

"Air's okay, but fuel looks like about forty-five minutes."

"Okay. We'll have to do something else. You don't by any chance have a pressure suit over there, do you?"

"No." I held back on the wisecrack.

"Okay. Sit tight for a minute while we figure it out."

While they were figuring, a cluster of lights came out of the night behind me. The lights were higher than I was, and off to port. While I watched they grew brighter and blurred past. "That Samuels?" I asked.

"Yes, ma'am."

Only one course of action was possible, they explained. I would have to cross from the taxi to the rescue

vessel more or less dressed for dinner. "It sounds unnerving, ma'am. We know that. But we've done it before, and we've never lost anybody."

I had my doubts. "Okay," I said. "What's your name?"

"Lance Depardeau."

"Okay, Lance. Come to the lady's rescue."

They needed a few minutes to get ready. I assume they were talking to the station, trying to make sure the other vehicle, the one with the big cargo doors, could not make it in time. Finally, they were back.

"Sorry about the delay, Janey. Okay, here's how we're going to do it. The only thing you need to do is keep cool, follow directions, and leave everything to us." Minutes later, the Patrol vehicle maneuvered close in, almost close enough to bump the cab. "It's okay," Lance said. "If you have any warm clothing with you, put it on." I wrapped myself in one of the blankets. I was starting to get used to wearing blankets. Latest fashion item. Their air lock opened, revealing a figure in a pressure suit. They had to stay close, not only because getting me from one vehicle to the other had to be done quickly, but also because the antigravity field extended only a hand's length beyond the wingtips. We weren't in orbit. So anyone who got outside the field was going to fall.

"Do you have something you can put over your head, Janey?"

That's why I'd bought my nearly airtight dragon jacket. I'd secured it to a seat support to prevent its floating around the inside of the taxi. Now I released it and told him yes . The person in the pressure suit-I didn't know whether it was Lance or not-jumped across, and I heard the thump as he landed on the side of the cab. Just before he reached the door, I took a deep breath, shed the mask, and pushed it under the seat. The air in the cab was fouler than I'd realized. "All right, Janey," he said. "You're doing fine. Keep calm." I pulled the jacket over my head and secured it at my throat with the tieback.

"Okay. That's good. Breathe normally. And hang on to the handle so you don't get sucked out."

I couldn't really answer him anymore. But I grabbed hold of the door release and the chair.

"I'll pull you out. As soon as I get your arm, let go. You might want to hold on. But don't do it, okay. Let go as soon as I touch you."

I nodded okay. Inside the jacket, of course, I couldn't see anything. I knew others had made this kind of crossing and that there was no real danger unless I lost my head. So now I'll confess something. I was almost enjoying playing the damsel in distress.

"Open the door."

I pulled the release and opened up. The air exploded out. Then the world turned frigid. It was like being held naked against an iceberg. I started shivering. He took my arm and pulled me through the door. I could see nothing; I was just trying to breathe normally when we pushed off hard away from the taxi. Hard because for a moment we went outside the antigrav field. My weight returned and, for a terrifying moment, we fell. But our momentum carried us across. The weight went away again, as quickly as it had come. We touched metal. Secure in my jacket, I closed my eyes. Air pressure began to push against me, and gradually, the world got warm again.

Lance insisted I check in with Medical, and there was no way I could refuse without arousing suspicion. Anyway, I was bleeding from every orifice I had. So he escorted me down. On the way, he said he knew this wasn't a particularly good time, but he wondered if he could see me again. Considering the shape I was in, it came as a surprise. "That would be nice, Lance," I said. "I'm on duty through tomorrow. But-" He hesitated. "Will you be staying on station? I think they're going to want to talk to you." He didn't specify who "they" were. "I have to be getting back to my job," I said. "Can't really stay here." He smiled. He was a big, good-looking guy. There was an innocence about him that was appealing, and we all know how women love uniforms. Not to mention guys who save their behinds. But there was too much risk in letting him know how he could reach me, so I gave him a bogus code to go with the bogus name, and we separated, he promising to get in touch, while I batted my eyes, said thanks, gave him a hug, and thought good-bye . Medical checked me out, said I was fine, but suggested I stay under observation for a day. I thanked them, but passed, and headed for the Ops desk. I was approaching another bad moment. To get the Belle-Marie , I had to use my real name, which was likely to bring the gendarmes crashing down on me before I could get launched. Ivan was my best bet. But I wanted very much to get on board Belle and clear out. The watch officer came out of a back room and assumed his place behind the counter. "Yes, ma'am," he said. "What can I do for you?" He was tall, thick gray mustache, speckled gray hair. Serious-looking and well along in years. He'd obviously been passed over several times, a guy who was still manning the counter. "My name's Kolpath," I said. "I'd like to clear my ship. The Belle-Marie ." He wasn't good enough to hide his reaction. His jaw tightened; his eyelids flickered and came alive. "Very good," he said, trying to pretend everything was okay. "Can you hold on a second?" "Sure." He went back into the office, and I took off. Down the gravity shaft and out onto the main concourse. Picked out a ladies' room and hustled inside. There was one occupant, and I washed my hands until she left. Then I called Ivan. "Captain Sloan is not available," said his AI. "Do you wish to leave a message?" He was probably out on the Goldman . "Yes, I would." "Anytime you're ready."