Jack McDevitt - The Devil's Eye

Eventually, the audience subsided. "There's something else," he said. "The Coalition wants to recognize some of the people who made this night possible." An aide wheeled a table out, up an incline in the side of the rostrum, and placed it beside him. There were medals on the table. With ribbons. "The Grand Award of the Coalition is bestowed for outstanding service. It has been given to only four individuals during the entire thirty-year history of the Coalition. We will double that number tonight. "To Alex Benedict, who was first to grasp what had happened, and whose quick action to bring it to our attention made it possible to confront the problem. Alex, would you come forward, please?" Alex loved public recognition. Well, in all honesty, who doesn't? He strode through the crowd and up the three steps of the rostrum. The Administrator examined the medals, selected one, and placed it against his breast. He let go and took a moment to admire the award. "Thank you, Alex," he said. Kilgore invited him to speak. Alex looked out over the crowd. "It's an honor," he said, "to have been in a position to assist the people of Salud Afar." More applause. And the Administrator picked up a second medal. "Is Chase Kolpath in the audience, please? Chase, are you out there?" My heart stopped. Now, I'm not going to pretend I didn't think I'd made a major contribution to what was happening. But I didn't expect to get any recognition for it. Usually the recognition goes to Alex, Alex says something nice about me while he's accepting the award, and that's the end of it. And it struck me as I left Mash on the edge of the dance floor and walked forward that he hadn't mentioned my role. He'd known. I mounted the steps. Kilgore gazed happily out at the crowd. "I'm not sure where we'd have been without Chase. She did much to bring the Ashiyyur and the Confederates here tonight. And she was largely responsible for sidestepping efforts by a rogue unit of this government to keep the Callistra event secret." He smiled at me. "We'll always think of her as the lady who rode the taxicab into orbit." Of course I hadn't had the acceleration to achieve orbit, but that seemed picky at the moment. He pressed my medal to my gown and gave me the floor. I tend to get stage fright, so I just said thanks and hustled back down off the podium. "Next," said Kilgore, "the Coalition would like to recognize the lady who helped mobilize support for us in the Assemblage: Bon Selvan. Bon, would you come forward, please?" I hadn't realized she was there. The crowd quieted as she strode across the dance floor. The three steps up to the podium didn't fit her very well, so she simply ignored them and climbed up in one stride. It broke what might have been an awkward moment. There was some laughter, then a wave of applause. Kilgore held her medal and looked up at her. The audience laughed again, as did Kilgore. He couldn't reach an appropriate place on the robe, so she bent down, and he smiled and attached the medal. Then he got serious. "I don't know what to say, Proctor Selvan, except that we will always be grateful to you and your companions. We know it wasn't easy to do what you did. And that the Ashiyyur were willing to take a risk in sending their fleet here. I hope this will be the beginning, as someone once said, of a long and beautiful friendship." She turned to face the audience. "Thank you, Mr. Administrator. Thank you all. We share your sentiments. Unfortunately, our joint history has not been an admirable one. Let us begin today. Let us

"The final award," said Kilgore, "recognizes the contribution of a young lady from Rimway, who came here seeking inspiration, and who discovered the terrible danger that was rushing toward us. She sacrificed her life and a brilliant career in an effort to warn us. This award will be placed in a special station in the Coalition Hall of Fame. Ladies and gentlemen, we all owe a great debt of thanks to Vicki Greene."

The celebration lasted well into the night. I danced with Alex and Mash and half the males in the place, including several of the Mutes. I won't try to describe how that must have looked. You'd have had to

see it. I talked with Proctor Selvan, and received an invitation to visit her whenever I could. "How did all this happen?" I asked her. "How is it possible?" She gazed serenely down at me. "It was too good an opportunity to miss. We knew that from the moment the situation first developed. But we needed someone to help us pull the trigger. To create the political wave. You did that rather nicely when you spoke to the Chief Minister." She drew back her lips. "That's the wrong word. Connected is as close as I can get. When you connected with the Chief Minister." "You mean the interview?" "Of course." "But I wasn't talking to him. I had the Director in mind. Whiteside." I got the fangs again. "You were talking to both ," she said. "And it appears both got the message."

Toward the end of the evening, I found myself back in Alex's arms. "Brilliant performance, Chase," he said. "From start to finish." "Thanks." "I guess you'll be wanting a raise." "I could live with it." He grinned. "We'll figure it out on the way home." "Okay." Kilgore must have noticed Alex was getting ready to leave. He came over and shook his hand. "Thank you, Alex," he said. "We'll never forget what you've done." Alex looked around. And ushered us-himself, the Administrator, and me-toward a corner. Kilgore signaled his security people, and they formed a wall to keep everyone at a distance. "What is it, Alex?" "Mr. Administrator, I was surprised you mentioned the rogue element." "The crisis is over, Alex. Anyway, there's really no way to keep something like that quiet. Best to get out in front with it." "Yes, sir. Of course. You know Wexler made an attempt on our lives." "Of course." "But he wasn't in it alone. May I ask whether you've acted against those who were involved with him?" "We've found some. Perhaps all. To be honest, we can't prove criminal intent against any of them because we don't think they knew why they were getting the warnings." "Mr. Administrator, you can't really believe that." "No, of course not, Alex. But knowing it and proving it-" He shook his head. "Those who were involved have been terminated from their positions. Sent quietly away." "I see." He gazed into Alex's eyes. "Was there something else?" For a long time, Alex stared back. There was more he wanted to say. Maybe about power and responsibility. Maybe simply about paying attention. "No," he said finally. "Nothing else." "Good. I'm glad you and Chase were there to help set things right." He shook Alex's hand and turned on his heel and walked off, but got only a dozen strides away before several of his guests approached him. One held up a drink to him as we watched, and offered a handshake. His smile returned.

Even with the Salvation Fleet, as it became known, combining the naval forces of both sides with a vast number of private and commercial vehicles, escaping the Thunderbolt was still a near thing. It was never clear that the shield could be assembled in time, or, if it were, that it would be possible to synchronize its arrival at Salud Afar at the exact hour it was needed. No task had ever seemed more daunting. The decision to go ahead with the shield stopped all evacuation attempts. When it became firm, it provoked worldwide criticism. The Administrator was put under extreme pressure, and there were even two assassination attempts. But he stayed with it, and when the critical hour arrived, so did the wall to block off the deadly gamma-ray burst. Today he stands not only as a towering hero, but he has also become a symbol of the interspecies peace movement. No one, they will tell you, has done more to promote a reasonable rapprochement between the two civilizations.