Jack McDevitt - The Devil's Eye

"Make it happen." It was Kilgore's final instruction as we left his office. When we got back to Samuels, the Belle-Marie was waiting. I literally collapsed into the pilot's seat, thinking how I'd not expected to see her again. "How you doing, Belle?"

"Good. I missed you."

"You've been having a big time."

"I carried a group of infants and mothers to Sanctum. Got back yesterday."

"How'd it go?"

"Sanctum is not much more than a few modular buildings on a barren plain."

"That'll change."

"I hope so."

"Has the luggage come on board?"

"Ten minutes ago."

"All right. Let's go through the checkoff."

"Before you start, we have a transmission from Number 17 Parkway. Written text. For Mr. DeVrio."

I passed it back to the cabin. Minutes later, Giambrey sent it forward:

Giambrey, There's been another shoot-out. Ships destroyed and fatalities on both sides. The situation between the Confederacy and the Assemblage has deteriorated to the point that I wanted to caution you to use extreme care when you approach them.

Circe asked if she could sit on the bridge during launch. "Sure," I said. "You enjoy spaceflight?" She laughed. It was a pleasant sound, the laughter of a much younger woman. She seemed a different person from the one I'd met in Kilgore's office. "This is the first time I've tried it," she said. "Really? You haven't been out before?" "No," she said. "I've always wanted to, but somehow I never got around to it." She laughed again. "You're looking at me as if I said something funny." "Just surprised, I guess." "Why?" "Because you're helping put together the most ambitious space project I've ever heard of." The launch doors opened and a black-and-white Benson-class yacht came in, moved slowly through the docking area, and tied up at the pier opposite. It carried Dellacondan markings. I wanted to cheer. "Thank God for them," she said. We watched while the pilot debarked. He was apparently alone. "So why didn't you go out on one of the tours?" "I've always wanted to. Just never found the time." "I understand." "Chase," said Belle. "Operations on the circuit." "Okay, Belle. Put them through." "Belle-Marie." A woman's voice. "You are cleared for departure." They gave us a heading. It hadn't happened when I'd left with Ivan. "More incoming traffic," the operator told me. "Wouldn't want you to bump into anybody."

"On my way, Samuels. Thank you." I released the clamps and eased away from the dock. We moved through the launch area and out into the void. Below us, Salud Afar was a golden globe, vast oceans of clouds illuminated by sunlight. "It's a beautiful world," Circe said. "You know, you make your living out here, Chase. So you assume everybody else gets to go for a ride, too. But the reality is that hardly anyone on the surface has even been up to Samuels. Places like this"-and she indicated either the interior of the ship or the greater universe outside-"you've made into your home. And it seems natural to you that everybody lives the same sort of life. But most people down there probably couldn't even tell you how many planets there are in the system." "But that's not you." "No, it isn't. Chase, I've had a good life. Gone a lot further than I'd ever thought possible. But if I had it to do again, I think I'd follow the path you took. You're a very lucky young woman, but I don't think

you know it yet." Through a break in the clouds, I caught a glimpse of blue ocean.

We sent a message to Selotta and Kassel to let them know we were coming. Then, approximately an hour after we'd left the station, I lined up on Borkarat, their home world, told Alex and Giambrey to buckle in, and slipped between the dimensions. One drawback about this kind of travel is that you can't send or receive traffic en route. Should the Mutes respond by telling Kilgore to stick his diplomatic initiative in his ear, he'd have no way of contacting us to let us know. Circe stared out at the long gray twilight of the transdimensional world and told me how she'd always wanted to do this. "Not under these circumstances, of course. But it's so strange out here." "How was life under the Bandahriate?" I asked. "I was a teenager when he died. A lot of people hated it, of course. Hated him . I'm sorry to admit this, but I didn't pay much attention to public affairs. People were out there risking themselves, trying to get rid of Cleev. And I was drifting through school. Boys and physics. It was all I cared about. And not necessarily in that order." She gave me a shy smile. "It must have been a relief when he was gone." "To be honest, I think things ran better under Cleev than they do now. For one thing, Kilgore's government is more corrupt. "Don't get the wrong impression. I'm not saying I'd want Cleev back. But it isn't as black-and-white as everybody pretends." She was a study in contrasts, upbeat and happy most of the time, but she had an existential dimension as well, deepened, no doubt, by the responsibilities she carried. Although, as I got to know her better on that long, lonely flight, I realized it wasn't merely the consequences of failure that weighed on her. She seemed, in fact, confident of success. If these creatures could really see into each other's minds, and into hers, then they would see what was at stake. And they had to possess a degree of empathy well beyond anything you found in humans. How could such a species possibly stand by and watch a catastrophe on this scale wipe out hundreds of millions when they needed to do so little to help prevent it? No, it was something other than her mission. It was, oddly enough, the more mundane aspects of existence that sometimes broke through and affected her, the sense of passing time, of opportunities missed, of the ordinary losses one incurs in life. Young no more. Where do the years go? While I probably spent too much time thinking about the incoming gamma-ray burst, she was quite capable of commenting that, succeed or fail, the day would come when we'd give almost anything to be able to return to such hours on the bridge, to sit with each other and munch jelly sandwiches, which we'd been doing at that moment. And I don't mean to suggest she was not concerned about the bigger picture. But she lived in the moment as much as anybody I've ever known. Giambrey also managed not to allow the importance of the mission to weigh on his mind. "We do what we can," he said. "If the Mutes are reasonable, they'll take advantage of the opportunity to help us. This is an opening for them, as well. A chance to establish better relations and head off a war. They'd be damned fools not to cooperate." He was originally from the City on the Crag. His physician father had visited Salud Afar as a young man, fallen in love with its wide oceans and vast forests, and maybe its sense of solitude, and eventually persuaded his wife to vacation there. She came to share his love for the place, and, after Giambrey's birth, they'd made what he described as the ultimate big move. "Doctors were more in demand there," he said. "There was always a shortage. Not sure why. But the result was that the pay was better. Though my dad always insisted that wasn't the reason." His smile left me feeling everything would be okay. This was a guy who'd been around a long time, and his manner suggested he knew what he was about. His presence provided a balancing point in the storm. "I started out as a journalist," he said. "But I wasn't tough enough for the job. Couldn't ask the hard questions. Didn't like offending people. So eventually my boss suggested I should find another line of work. What I was good at was writing speeches. And one thing led to another." "Tell me about the Administrator," I said.