Jack McDevitt: The Devil's Eye

" Now , honey," said Krestoff. I opened it. I had nothing beneath it. Wexler picked up two water glasses from a cabinet, opened the bottle, and filled them with a cocoa-colored liquid. He set them down on the coffee table. "This is korala . It's rather strong. A glass of it will leave you both a bit more accommodating than you are at the moment." He looked back at me. "Please, Kolpath, get out of that terrible-looking blouse." He stood back while Alex reached for the glasses and passed one to me. "What will happen here is that you two are enjoying yourselves, but unfortunately you will drink too much, and, regrettably, you'll both fall from the balcony." He shrugged. "It's a sad end for two who have done so much for Salud Afar, but you will have the consolation of dying in each other's arms. And, in addition, I think you will find the korala will ease the trauma." "We're not lovers," I said. "Really? Well, more's the shame. But nobody would believe that. Now, please, my dear, the blouse. I really must insist." The blouse was tucked into my slacks. "Do you mind if I get up? I can't get it off sitting here." He considered it. "Of course," he said. "But do please be careful." I wanted to clear my angle on Krestoff. I didn't want to have to climb over the coffee table to get to her. Alex also stood. Wexler signaled for him to sit back down, but Alex ignored him. "Whatever happened to the hero of the Revolution?" he said. "How did you become a cheap bureaucrat? How did you get bought off?" "That's enough," said Wexler. Alex crossed behind me, clearing his own angle on Wexler. "You've no compunctions about sacrificing anybody for your bosses, do you? Even Vicki Greene." Vicki Greene was the start button for the AI. Kilgore's voice broke in: "Wexler, have you no decency at all? How dare you?" The voice was calm, angry, disappointed. Not bad for an AI. It distracted them both for the moment we needed. I was across the room before Krestoff could turn her attention back to me. I knocked her off the chair. She tried to bring the blaster around as she hit the floor, but I grabbed the hand and simultaneously got in a punch to the gut. She doubled up, and the weapon blew out the ceiling. We traded punches, and I smashed the hand with the weapon against the wall. Above us, somebody yelled hey . And an alarm went off. The blaster came loose. We rolled around on the floor, each of us trying to get hold of it. Finally, she kicked it away. I grabbed the wine bottle and brought it down on her head. She hit me with a lamp. "Bitch," she said. Even under those circumstances, she kept her voice level. We got more or less to our feet and traded a few punches. Then she fell over a footstool, and I got to the blaster, scooped it up, and turned to see how Alex was doing. Not so well, it turned out. His fight had stumbled out onto the balcony. Although Wexler was the older and smaller of the two, he looked considerably more experienced in personal combat than Alex was. Meanwhile, Krestoff was getting to her feet again, making comments about my parentage. I leveled the weapon at her. "Stay put," I said. She glared at me. "Afraid to take me on?" she asked. "Hell," I said, "I'm tired of you." Wexler's scrambler had fallen to the floor. I kept her at a distance while I picked it up. I was trying to juggle the two weapons and change the setting on the scrambler to non-lethal. She saw her chance and jumped me. I whacked her with the blaster. She went to her knees, and I hit her again. It was a good clean shot.

Wexler had Alex bent over the balcony rail. Beyond them I could see the dome and the sky, with Callistra just about to set behind the planet. Somewhere music was playing. The alarm was still wailing, and someone began pounding on the door. I could hear voices in the corridor. Alex and Wexler banged against the rail, creating the possibility they might both go over. I got the setting

I wanted on the scrambler and leveled it at Wexler. "Back off," I said. "Let him go." The guy had a suicide impulse. He made an effort to throw Alex over. I didn't want to fire because I couldn't be sure which one I'd hit. So instead I went after him, reversed the weapon, and hit him in the head with it. Anybody who's used a scrambler knows it's light, and hitting somebody with it doesn't do much more than make the target angry. Wexler slammed me with an elbow and sent me reeling. Then he turned back to Alex. The guy was a nut. But Alex got a punch in and threw him momentarily off-balance. Meantime, I guess I'd had enough. I charged full tilt into Wexler. I'm not sure whether I intended to push him over the side. I was in a rage by then, and I remember thinking there was a chance he'd land on somebody. Whatever really caused it, he crashed back against the rail and grabbed Alex. I banged into him again and apparently caught him off-balance. Either that or I was stronger than I realized. He went over the top, flailed wildly, grabbed me, and very nearly took me with him. He had my arm. Clung to it, the whole time screaming at me. I was hanging on to the railing, halfway over, when Alex came to my rescue. He pulled me back. Hung on while Wexler began to slip away. Ignored him when he screamed for help. Then he was gone, one last dying shriek, suddenly cut off. I stood there for a few seconds, not saying anything. I looked to see whether Wexler had done any damage below. A crowd was gathering, but nobody else was down. Somebody was still banging on the door. I went back inside and opened it.

The security people came. Then the CSS. They took Krestoff away, finally subdued. They collected Wexler's body. Asked some questions. Took notes. Moved Alex to a different room. Set a guard, just in case. An hour or so after they'd gone away, we got a call from one of Kilgore's staffers. "We heard about what happened," she said. "We wanted you to know we appreciate the strain you've been under. And we're glad the danger is past."

"Thank you," said Alex.

"When an opportunity presents itself, we'll find an appropriate way to express our gratitude. Meantime, if there's anything we can do for you, don't hesitate to get in touch." She gave us a private code that would allow us to reach her. We never did eat dinner that night. Alex's meal had gotten as cold as his appetite. We went down instead and sat in the Pilots' Club. It was empty. "They're all out running refugees to Sanctum," said the host. We had a couple of drinks. Two or three people came in. Then, after about an hour, my link sounded.

"Ms. Kolpath?"

"Yes."

"I'm with the Coalition Transport Authority. As I'm sure you're aware, we're moving people off-world. I'm sorry to say that, acting in accord with executive order 504911, we've impounded your interstellar."

"You've already done that once."

"Really? Well, however that may be, we're doing it again."

"I wish you wouldn't."

"I understand completely. In any case, we have no discretion in the matter. We'll be making some improvements in the ship, and we'd like you to remain as the captain, and help in the evacuation effort. Can we count on you to assist us?" Alex shook his head. "I wonder what happens to people who don't have friends in high places." "Sure," I said. "I'll help."

"Excellent. Can you leave tonight?"

"Tonight?"

"We've no time to waste, Ms. Kolpath."

Alex was signaling me that he'd call Kilgore's people. Get it killed. "Sure," I said. "Can you give me an hour?"

"We can do better than that. Your passengers are already in the station. We've scheduled you out at midnight."