The Devil's Eye Part 3

"Keep transmitting."

I left it on. "Alex, thanks for getting me out of there." "It's okay. Keep it in mind next time you want a raise." Two people hanging on to one chair doesn't work well. Whenever either of us put a little weight on it, it went under. "Chase," he said, "you ever hear of a malfunction like this?" "It was deliberate," I said. "Somebody had to go in and either jerry the AI or attach a parasite system." "You're sure?" "Absolutely. Even if the AI had simply failed, the skimmer wouldn't have behaved the way it did. What I can't figure is why the power came back at the end." "That's because they didn't want us dead." "Really?" I looked around at the empty sky. "If we got killed, it would attract a lot of attention. And it would connect with Vicki. Somebody wants us to go away but doesn't want to deal with publicity." "It's a warning?" "Yes. I'd say so." Another wave came by. We rode over it. "What the h.e.l.l did she get into?"

We were drifting, looking at each other, watching for the rescue vehicle, when Alex's eyes widened. He was staring past my shoulder. I turned. Forty or fifty meters away, a long black tail had risen out of the water. There was a fork at the end. It stood erect for a few seconds, then splashed down. "Better hurry," I told the Sh.o.r.e Watch. Whatever was in the water didn't seem to be going anywhere. The tail lifted and fell again. "Not good," said Alex. I was grateful to discover I hadn't lost my scrambler. There was no way to be sure it could screw up the nervous system of a fish in an ocean on another world, but they're supposed to work on just about anything. I held it out of the water and tried to shake it dry. "Will it work after getting dunked?" Alex asked. "It's supposed to work underwater." "Then why are you trying to dry it off?" "Feels like the right thing to do." I set it for lethal lethal . "Are you trying to start an argument with me?" "No." "I mean, that's probably not a good idea. I'm the only one here with a gun." "I know." "You should think about carrying one." "Chase, normally I have no need for one. I'm an antiquarian." "It's the one time you . "Are you trying to start an argument with me?" "No." "I mean, that's probably not a good idea. I'm the only one here with a gun." "I know." "You should think about carrying one." "Chase, normally I have no need for one. I'm an antiquarian." "It's the one time you do do need one that makes it worthwhile." The tail vanished, leaving behind swirling water. Then it reappeared, closer to us, stood erect, and slapped down again. I watched it slide beneath the surface. The water grew quiet. "Can you see anything?" asked Alex. "No." I handed him my bracelet. "Keep it out of the water so they don't lose the signal." "Okay. What are you going to do?" need one that makes it worthwhile." The tail vanished, leaving behind swirling water. Then it reappeared, closer to us, stood erect, and slapped down again. I watched it slide beneath the surface. The water grew quiet. "Can you see anything?" asked Alex. "No." I handed him my bracelet. "Keep it out of the water so they don't lose the signal." "Okay. What are you going to do?"

"Take a look." "Not a good idea, Chase." "Neither is staying here. I'll be back in a minute."

The water was clear, and I saw the creature off to one side. It was flat and long, shaped like a spade, maybe three or four times as big as I was. Two eyes centered close together on the snout watched Alex. Rotated to me. Went back to Alex. Alex's legs hung down. He couldn't keep them still without sinking. They must have looked like a tasty morsel. The mouth opened to reveal several rows of teeth. I figured the underwater range of the scrambler was about half the distance to the creature. It was going to have to get closer. I didn't think there'd be any problem arranging that. I went back up. "It's interested in us," I said. Alex took a deep breath. No joking around this time. "What is is it?" "It looks a little like a ray. It's a big fish with a lot of teeth." "We're not its natural prey," he said. "By the time it figures that out, you and I will be hamburger." "There's another one." "Where?" He pointed. Another tail hoisted well out of the water. On the opposite side of us. It curled and straightened and curled again, then splashed down. "You think they hunt in tandem?" "Maybe. We'd better a.s.sume they do." We were both thinking how it would've been a good time for a second weapon. "Try not to move," I told him. I went down again. They were both watching us. They were s.p.a.ced exactly opposite each other, although the newcomer was farther away. But it was approaching. I suspected that when both were at the same range, they'd attack. If that happened, and they were as quick as they looked, I thought I'd be able to take out one, but not both. I surfaced again. "How's it look?" he said. "Okay. Leave it to me." "What are you going to do?" "Explain later." At least I hoped I would. "Just keep still. Don't move." I took a deep breath and went back down. The creatures were lining up on us, getting ready. I had to take the initiative away from them. I kicked off in the direction of the first one. It started toward me. That long mouth opened again, and I looked past those incisors and saw a serpentine tongue. It charged head-on, no sign of caution, no indication it saw any reason to fear me. I was easy pickings. When it got within range, I fired a full charge past the teeth and down its throat. The mouth gaped wide. The tongue snaked out and whipped through the water. Then the creature spasmed. It thrashed and rolled over and, trailing black blood, dived into the depths. I spun away, looking for the other one. But we got lucky: Instead of coming after Alex or me, the creature went after its partner. Maybe it was trying to help. More likely, it was the promise of extra meat. I went back up, and the water stayed quiet. it?" "It looks a little like a ray. It's a big fish with a lot of teeth." "We're not its natural prey," he said. "By the time it figures that out, you and I will be hamburger." "There's another one." "Where?" He pointed. Another tail hoisted well out of the water. On the opposite side of us. It curled and straightened and curled again, then splashed down. "You think they hunt in tandem?" "Maybe. We'd better a.s.sume they do." We were both thinking how it would've been a good time for a second weapon. "Try not to move," I told him. I went down again. They were both watching us. They were s.p.a.ced exactly opposite each other, although the newcomer was farther away. But it was approaching. I suspected that when both were at the same range, they'd attack. If that happened, and they were as quick as they looked, I thought I'd be able to take out one, but not both. I surfaced again. "How's it look?" he said. "Okay. Leave it to me." "What are you going to do?" "Explain later." At least I hoped I would. "Just keep still. Don't move." I took a deep breath and went back down. The creatures were lining up on us, getting ready. I had to take the initiative away from them. I kicked off in the direction of the first one. It started toward me. That long mouth opened again, and I looked past those incisors and saw a serpentine tongue. It charged head-on, no sign of caution, no indication it saw any reason to fear me. I was easy pickings. When it got within range, I fired a full charge past the teeth and down its throat. The mouth gaped wide. The tongue snaked out and whipped through the water. Then the creature spasmed. It thrashed and rolled over and, trailing black blood, dived into the depths. I spun away, looking for the other one. But we got lucky: Instead of coming after Alex or me, the creature went after its partner. Maybe it was trying to help. More likely, it was the promise of extra meat. I went back up, and the water stayed quiet.

It's fair to say we were relieved to see the Patrol appear in the eastern sky. We were floating, hanging on to the chair, scanning the ocean for more tails. The aircraft grew larger, and they asked whether we were okay and explained how they'd have us out of the water in a minute. It was a black-and-white skimmer, with Sh.o.r.e WATCH imprinted on its hull. A door opened, and two uniformed crewmen appeared and waved. They tossed down a rope ladder, and the skimmer maneuvered until it was directly overhead. Then I climbed up, and they hauled me in. Somebody handed me a cup with a hot brew. They pulled Alex in moments later. When they had us safely on board, they asked what had happened to our skimmer. "Don't know," I said. "It just went out of control."

One of the crew was a tall, athletic woman with red hair. "You guys were pretty lucky," she said. "Why's that?" Alex asked. "You don't want to go swimming in these waters." "They dangerous?" She heaved a sigh of relief. "You have no idea, champ."

TWELVE.

There's something in the woods, Becky. We don't know what it is. No one has ever seen it. But on cold nights, when the wind turns around and comes in from the east, you can feel it. And that's when you want to stay inside and keep the door locked.- Etude in Black They took us back to where we'd started. We spent two days filling out forms for both the Sh.o.r.e Watch and Reliable Transport. Then we booked our crossing with a commercial carrier. We were waiting next morning for our flight to leave when Rob Peifer called. "I heard you guys were in an accident." "I heard you guys were in an accident." "Skimmer went down," said Alex. "Skimmer went down," said Alex.

"You okay?"

"We're fine. Got a little wet."

"I don't guess you got any pictures?"

"No, Rob. Sorry. I never thought about it."

"Okay. We have some file shots we can use."

Alex's eyes rolled skyward. "Why not just let it go, Rob? It's not worth reporting."

"Are you kidding me? 'Alex Benedict Down at Sea.' 'Benedict Rides Skimmer into Ocean near Maillot.'"

"Where's Maillot?" Alex asked.

"I'd like to do an interview, Alex. But the setting's not right. I wonder if you and what's-her-name, Chase, would want to go somewhere where we could get the ocean in the background? One of the hotels, maybe?"

"Rob, we're on the run at the moment. We have a flight to catch."

"Okay. Sure. We can fill in the background later. Listen, Alex, why don't you tell me how you were feeling as you hit the water?"

Alex took a deep breath. "Scared, Rob."

We made it safely across the Crystal Sea on our second try, and landed at Port Arbor. From there we boarded a train to Packwood, which was a coastal town whose princ.i.p.al claim to fame was Packwood University. It was one of the sites where Vicki had spoken. According to one of the history teachers, she'd spent a day there, won over the crowds, and even some skeptical literature teachers with her wit and charm. They ran the presentation for us, and she was as energetic as ever.

Vicki had traveled to the Haunted Forest by canoe, so of course we did the same. We set off downriver at dawn. The countryside was wide-open, mostly plains with periodic patches of forest, a few scattered houses, and an occasional town. The river was narrow for the most part, and generally calm, with almost no rough water. Neither of us was in shape to do nonstop paddling, so for long periods of time we simply allowed the current to carry us. Eventually it carried us to the edge of the Haunted Forest. We plunged ahead. The birds in the area were deafening. They screamed and squawked, and something threw nuts and deadwood down at us. There was also a creature with the biggest wingspan I've ever seen. Mostly it simply glided back and forth overhead, watching something we couldn't see. I thought for a while it was going to target us, so despite local a.s.surances that there were no predators, I sat for long periods with the scrambler handy. It never bothered us though. There was also something that looked like a flying beanbag. It drifted just above the treetops, sometimes touching down and apparently feeding on dead leaves, then casting loose again. When the sun went down, we got off the river, broke out our sleeping bags, and built a fire. We spent the night in a clearing. Alex tried reading, but he drew too many bugs. With not much else to do, we simply sat and talked and watched Callistra climb the sky. A cool breeze showed up after a while and drove off the insects. Sophora was also in the sky. Its paleness underscored the brilliance of the star. "You know," I said, "if I were a writer and I wanted to come here to get my creative juices flowing, the major reason would be that that sky." He looked up at it. "Especially if you wrote horror." "I wonder what kind of star it is?" "I don't know." I consulted my link. sky." He looked up at it. "Especially if you wrote horror." "I wonder what kind of star it is?" "I don't know." I consulted my link. "It's a giant blue variable," "It's a giant blue variable," it said, it said, "approximately 1.2 million times as bright as Salud Afar's sun. It's farther out from the galactic rim than Salud Afar. Range from Salud Afar-" "approximately 1.2 million times as bright as Salud Afar's sun. It's farther out from the galactic rim than Salud Afar. Range from Salud Afar-"

I heard thunder in the west.

"- twelve hundred light-years."

"How much brighter?" he asked. "One point two million." "Oh," he said. "That's different. I thought you said one point three three ." ."

We'd heard several different opinions about what haunted the forest. There were claims for animated vegetation, mists that moved of their own accord, voices in the trees. I lay there thinking how easily people can be persuaded to believe such things. And I won't deny it was an opportunity to relish my own superiority. I knew better. The fire had died out, and Callistra was about to sink into the trees. The temperature was dropping, so I didn't want to get out of my sleeping bag and play with the logs. But my imagination took hold. Branches creaked a bit too much; occasionally I could hear a squishy sort of sound, like something walking through a marsh. Except that the ground was solid. And, yes, I know ordinarily that's no big deal, but it was an utterly still night. There was zero wind, and aside from the vegetative sloos.h.i.+ng and cracking, and the squishes, the only sounds came from insects and the river. It didn't really scare me. But I've slept better.

Neither of us was very big on food rations, the kind they pack in containers and that cook themselves. Alex had lived on the things in the old days when he'd gone to excavations with Gabe, but he'd since become accustomed to life's more ample luxuries. Moreover, he was having second thoughts about the wisdom of traveling by canoe. But it was late to think about that. Anyhow, we skipped breakfast, packed everything up, and headed downriver, looking for a place where we could get the local equivalent of ham and eggs. The first town we came to-I don't recall its name-had a caf just off the pier. We beached the canoe, went inside, and got a table by the window where we could keep an eye on our means of transport. It was a small place, maybe eight tables and booths, but the bacon and fries smelled good. We ordered the coffee-equivalent and sat back to relax. There were maybe five other people in the place. The mood was subdued, as if someone had died. The waiters were all bots. Alex got up and walked over to one of the other tables. There were two men, guys who worked on the river probably. One was ma.s.sive enough to sink our canoe. The other wasn't much more than a kid. He asked them if something was wrong. "G.o.ddam Mutes again," the big one said. "What happened?" "They're shooting at us." "At k.u.mpallah," added the kid. k.u.mpallah was a Confederate world, thirty thousand light-years away. "Well," he said, "at least you don't have to worry about them out here." They looked at one another. "Where you been, bud?" said the big one. "They've been been here." Alex angled himself so he could face away from the sun. "I've heard about that." "It's just a matter of time before we'll have to take the sons of b.i.t.c.hes on. Isn't it, Par?" "Looks like," Par said. "They keep coming. Starting trouble." "Kilgore keeps telling us," said the big one, "we shouldn't get excited. That they won't bother us. But here." Alex angled himself so he could face away from the sun. "I've heard about that." "It's just a matter of time before we'll have to take the sons of b.i.t.c.hes on. Isn't it, Par?" "Looks like," Par said. "They keep coming. Starting trouble." "Kilgore keeps telling us," said the big one, "we shouldn't get excited. That they won't bother us. But Eventually we pulled up in front of a marker: BESSARLIK Oldest Settlement on Salud Afar Believed to Be Nonhuman 2,000 B.A.

The place was fenced off. There were more signs: ABSOLUTELY NO CAMPING. And OPEN DAWN TO DUSK. And CAMPING PROHIBITED EXCEPT IN DESIGNATED AREAS. The date, of course, referred to two thousand years before the arrival of the Aquila Aquila . The trees were thick, and if there'd ever been a city there, no part of it remained. "We should have brought a scanner," I said. Alex shook his head. "It's another scam." "How do you know?" "I've done the research. This place was pulled together three centuries ago to make money for the locals." I was getting annoyed. "Then why'd we bother coming?" "Because Vicki came. And I'd be surprised if she didn't know the history of the place, too. Chase, it's entertainment. You come and let your imagination take over. That's what it's all about. n.o.body's serious about any of this stuff." We'd arrived in the early evening. There was a boat-rental operation at the end of a pier, and a campground. Along the riverbank were a sandwich shop, a souvenir store, and an inn. This, collectively, was the Hub. A few visitors were walking around, taking pictures. A tourist boat pulled up while we were there. Everybody got off and piled into the inn. We followed and found a young lady watering plants. I got the a.s.signment to ask the questions, since Alex thought my chemistry with her would be better. Had she ever heard of Vicki Greene? "Who?" "The horror writer." She shook her head. "If you ask at the desk, they can tell you whether she's here." "She wouldn't be here now." I showed her a hologram. Vicki dressed for a day in the woods-baggy white slacks, gray pullover reading UNIVERSITY OF KHARMAIN, and a green cap like the one Downhome Smith wears in the sims. . The trees were thick, and if there'd ever been a city there, no part of it remained. "We should have brought a scanner," I said. Alex shook his head. "It's another scam." "How do you know?" "I've done the research. This place was pulled together three centuries ago to make money for the locals." I was getting annoyed. "Then why'd we bother coming?" "Because Vicki came. And I'd be surprised if she didn't know the history of the place, too. Chase, it's entertainment. You come and let your imagination take over. That's what it's all about. n.o.body's serious about any of this stuff." We'd arrived in the early evening. There was a boat-rental operation at the end of a pier, and a campground. Along the riverbank were a sandwich shop, a souvenir store, and an inn. This, collectively, was the Hub. A few visitors were walking around, taking pictures. A tourist boat pulled up while we were there. Everybody got off and piled into the inn. We followed and found a young lady watering plants. I got the a.s.signment to ask the questions, since Alex thought my chemistry with her would be better. Had she ever heard of Vicki Greene? "Who?" "The horror writer." She shook her head. "If you ask at the desk, they can tell you whether she's here." "She wouldn't be here now." I showed her a hologram. Vicki dressed for a day in the woods-baggy white slacks, gray pullover reading UNIVERSITY OF KHARMAIN, and a green cap like the one Downhome Smith wears in the sims.

She took a long look and shook her head. "Sorry," she said. We'd made a mistake allowing the people from the tour boat to get in first. So we waited awhile, and finally I got to the service desk. The clerk was a middle-aged woman with a distinct sense that the hotel's visitors were people with too much leisure time on their hands. Unlike her, a busy workingwoman. "We have a friend who may have stayed here," I said. "About five or six months ago. Vicki Greene? Could you look her up and tell me whether she was ever at the inn?" She gave me a polite smile. "I'm sorry. It's against the privacy laws. We're not permitted to reveal that kind of information without the consent of the subject." She talked as if that should have been obvious. "It's important that we find her," I said. "I'm sorry. I can't help you." I showed her some money. "I'd make it worth your while." "If something happened, I'd get in trouble. Now, if you decide you want a room, let me know. Excuse me." And she turned away. Alex had been listening, and I saw disapproval in his eyes. "You sounded like a politician." "You do it next time." He looked across the lobby. "We shouldn't have bothered with this place," he said. "Let's go." "What's the plan?" "It's a safe a.s.sumption that she wouldn't come all the way out here and stay at an inn." "Why?" "We know she came for the atmosphere. She rented a canoe when she could have flown in." He shook his head. "She stayed outside." "In the campground?" "No. And for the same reason she wouldn't stay here here ." The young lady with the watering can caught my attention. "Miss," she said, "I couldn't help overhearing. We don't recommend camping outside other than in the official areas." "Why not?" asked Alex. She was embarra.s.sed. "It might be dangerous." "Why?" "Well, people say there's something out there-" "More advertising," Alex said. The woman stopped. "Pardon?" "It's okay. Thanks for the warning." The doors opened, and we went out into the fading sunlight. An hour later we were camped just off the northern edge of the preserve. We built a fire and sat poking at it and drinking coffee. "You know," I said, "if we're really trying to duplicate her experience, we've got it wrong." "How do you mean, Chase?" "I can't answer for ." The young lady with the watering can caught my attention. "Miss," she said, "I couldn't help overhearing. We don't recommend camping outside other than in the official areas." "Why not?" asked Alex. She was embarra.s.sed. "It might be dangerous." "Why?" "Well, people say there's something out there-" "More advertising," Alex said. The woman stopped. "Pardon?" "It's okay. Thanks for the warning." The doors opened, and we went out into the fading sunlight. An hour later we were camped just off the northern edge of the preserve. We built a fire and sat poking at it and drinking coffee. "You know," I said, "if we're really trying to duplicate her experience, we've got it wrong." "How do you mean, Chase?" "I can't answer for you you , but I think the trip down this river would feel a lot different if I were alone." "I know. But I don't think we need to reproduce everything exactly. Just figure out what her frame of mind might have been." "Ready to go home," I said. "You're not much of a camper, are you, Chase?" , but I think the trip down this river would feel a lot different if I were alone." "I know. But I don't think we need to reproduce everything exactly. Just figure out what her frame of mind might have been." "Ready to go home," I said. "You're not much of a camper, are you, Chase?"

So we fell asleep for the second successive evening under the blue star. Eventually I woke up, thinking I'd heard something. But the night was quiet. The last log was still burning. I lay listening to the river, and the wind, and the quiescent hum of insects. Occasionally, wings fluttered above me, in the branches. I pulled my blanket a bit higher, adjusted the jacket I was using for a pillow, and was about to close my eyes again when I saw a light in the trees. On the other side of the river. I watched while it floated along the bank. It was a gauzy, dull glow, vaguely resembling a long cloak. I woke Alex. "What?" he said. I pointed. "Look."

He half rolled over. "It's an animal of some kind," he said. "Ignore it." "It doesn't look like any animal I've ever seen." "You're on another world, Chase. What do you expect?"

THIRTEEN.

The media show us that supernatural creatures, when they come onstage, are uniformly disquieting, twisted, terrifying. One has only to see them to back away. To be repulsed. The truth is quite the opposite, child. These apparitions that come out of the night, that come seeking body and soul, are in their own way extremely attractive. One might say, ravis.h.i.+ng. They are in fact quite irresistible. And that is why they are dangerous.- Wish You Were Here As I watched, it floated away from the trees and started across the river. I got up and went to the bank, as close as I could get, and took some pictures. It was a patch of luminescence, a radiant mist. A candle adrift in the night. I activated my link. "Identify," I said.

"Range, please?"

"Fifty meters." I watched its reflection in the water.

"Object unknown."

"It does not match with any life-form on Salud Afar?"

"Negative. There are various microscopic-"

"Any natural phenomenon?"

"None known."

It was almost across. I hurried forward, but it was drifting downstream, away from me. It floated over the riverbank and merged with the forest. I watched for a while, until long after it was gone. It was, I decided, a reflection. Or possibly some local machination, another unquiet grave, to entertain tourists. Well, they had me hooked. I went back and put another log on the fire. The river was dark and quiet. I climbed into my blanket, closed my eyes, and tried to laugh at myself. The insects got a bit louder, and somewhere a branch creaked. Go to sleep, Kolpath. The fire cracked and popped. I liked the smell of the burning logs. There was something rea.s.suring about it. I opened my eyes and looked again. Still nothing out there. But I couldn't get back to sleep. I lay several minutes, listening to the forest and the river, and finally I got up, pulled my jacket around my shoulders, switched on my lamp, and walked back to the edge of the river. There was nothing. I wondered if someone in a control room somewhere was having a good laugh at my expense. Callistra had set. The area where the apparition had entered the trees was dark. The only light anywhere, other than that I was providing, came from the misty edge of the galaxy, now rising in the east. It was getting cold. I started back to the campfire. And saw a glimmer in the forest. It was back. I turned off the lamp.

It appeared to be just at the edge of the forest, not quite at treetop level, drifting quietly with the wind while it rose and sank. I thought about waking Alex, but he'd have complained again. He was probably right. Undoubtedly right. Still- When I was a little girl, I had a kitten named Ceily. I used to amuse myself with Ceily by pointing a laser light at the floor in front of her. She loved to chase it, and I used to run the laser around the room and up the walls. Whenever I got it down within her reach, she'd go into her crouch and sneak up on it and try to grab it. I felt a little bit like Ceily that night. I walked toward the light, taking my time, as if I might scare the thing off. The ground was uneven, and I wasn't paying attention, so I almost fell on my face. The apparition retreated. Moved deeper into the trees. I followed. The gra.s.s was stiffer than anything we had at home, and it crackled underfoot. There was no clear track; I had to blunder forward as best I could through bushes filled with thorns and vines that, somehow, when they touched my skin, excited a tingling reaction. I pulled my hands up into my jacket sleeves. Then it disappeared again. I aimed the lamp at the trees, saw nothing, and decided to h.e.l.l with it. Enough was enough. I turned to start back. And saw it behind me. About ten or twelve paces away. A gust of wind rattled the branches but had no effect on it. I wasn't sure if I'd simply not noticed before, but the apparition was pulsing, alternately brightening and dimming. In sync with my heart. I was the woman in the haunted-house story who sees strange lights upstairs and goes in to see what's happening. Even at that moment I wasn't really afraid of it, so strong was my a.s.sumption that it was a hoax. I knew, absolutely knew knew , that someone, nearby, was controlling it. But I put my hand on the barrel of the scrambler. Somewhere a bell sounded. Twice. Three times. Probably from the Hub. Maybe from a pa.s.sing boat. The apparition didn't waver. Didn't move. It simply floated in front of me. And I found myself thinking of Ceily. Of her last day. I'd been directed not to let her out of the house. Kittens weren't safe outside, my father had warned me. We lived on the edge of a forest, and the woods were filled with predators. But she always wanted out, always tried to get through the door when I opened it, and I felt mean and contemptible keeping her inside. So one day I held the door open for her. She followed me onto the front lawn and we had such a good time together that I did it again the next day. I don't know why, but I've always remembered it was the second day and not the first. And I was standing there minutes later watching her crouch as if she were going after one of the birds in the feeder when a yakim came out of nowhere and seized her in its claws, scooped her up, and soared into the sky with her. The last I saw of Ceily was her big eyes fastened on me, pleading with me to help. Within seconds the yakim and the kitten were gone, into the trees, and I went screaming after them. I never found her, of course. But I kept running and crying until I was exhausted. Then I realized I didn't know the way home. And it got dark. It was a couple of hours before I heard distant voices calling my name. It was the only time in my life I wanted to die. And that night, in the forest on Salud Afar, it all came rus.h.i.+ng back, as if everything had happened at once: Ceily rolled into the yakim's claws, her eyes round and desperate, my heart pounding so loudly I couldn't breathe, the dark woods stretching for miles in all directions, the dull dead sounds of the forest, the voices behind me somewhere. I fought back tears and thought how the world must have seemed to Ceily in those last moments, how alone she must have felt. And I traded places with her and rode with the yakim, while the ground fell away, knowing the claws would tear me apart within the next moments. Knowing I was alone. , that someone, nearby, was controlling it. But I put my hand on the barrel of the scrambler. Somewhere a bell sounded. Twice. Three times. Probably from the Hub. Maybe from a pa.s.sing boat. The apparition didn't waver. Didn't move. It simply floated in front of me. And I found myself thinking of Ceily. Of her last day. I'd been directed not to let her out of the house. Kittens weren't safe outside, my father had warned me. We lived on the edge of a forest, and the woods were filled with predators. But she always wanted out, always tried to get through the door when I opened it, and I felt mean and contemptible keeping her inside. So one day I held the door open for her. She followed me onto the front lawn and we had such a good time together that I did it again the next day. I don't know why, but I've always remembered it was the second day and not the first. And I was standing there minutes later watching her crouch as if she were going after one of the birds in the feeder when a yakim came out of nowhere and seized her in its claws, scooped her up, and soared into the sky with her. The last I saw of Ceily was her big eyes fastened on me, pleading with me to help. Within seconds the yakim and the kitten were gone, into the trees, and I went screaming after them. I never found her, of course. But I kept running and crying until I was exhausted. Then I realized I didn't know the way home. And it got dark. It was a couple of hours before I heard distant voices calling my name. It was the only time in my life I wanted to die. And that night, in the forest on Salud Afar, it all came rus.h.i.+ng back, as if everything had happened at once: Ceily rolled into the yakim's claws, her eyes round and desperate, my heart pounding so loudly I couldn't breathe, the dark woods stretching for miles in all directions, the dull dead sounds of the forest, the voices behind me somewhere. I fought back tears and thought how the world must have seemed to Ceily in those last moments, how alone she must have felt. And I traded places with her and rode with the yakim, while the ground fell away, knowing the claws would tear me apart within the next moments. Knowing I was alone.

Then Alex was there, holding me upright, asking in a scared voice what had happened?

I'm not sure what I said, but he responded by asking me about Ceily. "Say again: Who is she?" He looked out of focus. "Where is it?" I asked. "Where's what what ?" "The light." He thought I was talking about my lamp, which was lying on the ground, its beam playing across a tangle of thorns and berries. "No," I said. "In the trees." He looked around. "I don't see anything. Who's Ceily?" ?" "The light." He thought I was talking about my lamp, which was lying on the ground, its beam playing across a tangle of thorns and berries. "No," I said. "In the trees." He looked around. "I don't see anything. Who's Ceily?"

In the morning, it only seemed like a bad dream. Alex thought it was another warning that we should back off. But it wasn't like that at all. Something out there had gotten at me and triggered a response that no simple gimmick could have managed. I was still shaky when we called the people at Marquesi's to inquire about Vicki. She'd left her canoe in the hands of the boat-rental outfit until Marquesi's could fly someone out to ride it back. The store manager's lips tightened. "You're not planning to do the same thing, are you?" "You're not planning to do the same thing, are you?" he asked. His voice had turned hostile. "I'll make it worth your while," Alex said. he asked. His voice had turned hostile. "I'll make it worth your while," Alex said.

"d.a.m.n worth my while. You told me this wouldn't happen."

Alex made the arrangements, and we gave the canoe over to Bessarlik Boating. By the way, did the owner remember somebody else doing this? Her name was Vicki Greene. "The horror lady," she said. "Sure. I'd never forget her." "Why? Did she say anything out of the way?" "Oh, no. Simply that I've read all her books. I loved meeting her." "How'd she seem?" "How do you mean?" "Was she all right? Did she seem upset, or anything like that?" "No. She was really nice. Why? She's okay, isn't she?"

Vicki had mentioned she was headed for Morningdale. It was a town with a history of werewolves. Sounded like Vicki's kind of place. Alex and I arranged transportation, and an hour later we'd leased a skimmer and were on our way again. Below, I noticed one of the beanbags drifting near the edge of the river. And suddenly, while I watched, a long green tentacle whipped out of the trees. A moment later both the tentacle and the beanbag were gone. "Your imagination," said Alex. Maybe. By then, as far as I was concerned, tentacles were minor stuff.

FOURTEEN.

A person must have time to grow accustomed to the idea that he will die soon. When it happens violently, suddenly, unexpectedly, he is simply not ready to leave. He will cling to a favorite chair, or retreat inside an AI. He will hang on to the things that are familiar and resist all effort at removal. In the end, you must throw out the furniture. If that doesn't work, sell the house.- Midnight and Roses The werewolf was a bust. Something howled in the woods around Morningdale, but there was no reason to believe it was anything other than a mahar mahar , the local wolf-equivalent. Besides, I asked the lady at the hotel where we stayed, how could you have a werewolf when you don't get a full moon? Don't have a moon at all? "When Callistra is directly overhead," she said solemnly, "it happens." I laughed. She got annoyed. "It's true," she said. "That star is the Devil's Eye." "Oh," I said. "Stay close to the hotel, and you should be okay." The Devil's Eye. There it was again. The t.i.tle for Vicki's next novel. The archives revealed there'd been a series of gruesome killings in the Morningdale area forty years earlier. But those had been attributed to an unusually malevolent mahar . The werewolf legend had started because a young man with mental problems had claimed to be the killer. When the authorities decided he needed psychiatric help, he'd resisted. Police had been summoned; the man had fled into the forest. Next day his body was found in the river that runs past the town. The killings stopped. But there were two similar incidents later. Each was accompanied by a string of murders, of people apparently torn apart by a wild animal. Each time, someone came forward, claiming guilt, claiming to be a werewolf. One of the nutcases was a woman. The killings were never resolved. And the confessions were attributed to a psychiatric disorder and the simple need to draw attention to oneself. In each case, according to one psychiatrist described as prominent, the victim had developed a morbid interest in the original werewolf story. "Ordinarily," he said, "mahar s will not attack a human, but there are exceptions. What clearly happened in Morningdale is that there was a string of killings, and an unbalanced person attributed the actions to himself. Or, in this case, three unbalanced people. And I suspect, in future years, the pattern will repeat." It had been eleven years since the last outbreak. But the town kept the story alive with the usual gift shop and several books purporting to reveal "the truth" about the killings, and an HV presentation put together by a group of true believers. I'd have thought that the possibility of running into a werewolf would keep people , the local wolf-equivalent. Besides, I asked the lady at the hotel where we stayed, how could you have a werewolf when you don't get a full moon? Don't have a moon at all? "When Callistra is directly overhead," she said solemnly, "it happens." I laughed. She got annoyed. "It's true," she said. "That star is the Devil's Eye." "Oh," I said. "Stay close to the hotel, and you should be okay." The Devil's Eye. There it was again. The t.i.tle for Vicki's next novel. The archives revealed there'd been a series of gruesome killings in the Morningdale area forty years earlier. But those had been attributed to an unusually malevolent mahar . The werewolf legend had started because a young man with mental problems had claimed to be the killer. When the authorities decided he needed psychiatric help, he'd resisted. Police had been summoned; the man had fled into the forest. Next day his body was found in the river that runs past the town. The killings stopped. But there were two similar incidents later. Each was accompanied by a string of murders, of people apparently torn apart by a wild animal. Each time, someone came forward, claiming guilt, claiming to be a werewolf. One of the nutcases was a woman. The killings were never resolved. And the confessions were attributed to a psychiatric disorder and the simple need to draw attention to oneself. In each case, according to one psychiatrist described as prominent, the victim had developed a morbid interest in the original werewolf story. "Ordinarily," he said, "mahar s will not attack a human, but there are exceptions. What clearly happened in Morningdale is that there was a string of killings, and an unbalanced person attributed the actions to himself. Or, in this case, three unbalanced people. And I suspect, in future years, the pattern will repeat." It had been eleven years since the last outbreak. But the town kept the story alive with the usual gift shop and several books purporting to reveal "the truth" about the killings, and an HV presentation put together by a group of true believers. I'd have thought that the possibility of running into a werewolf would keep people out out , but it apparently didn't work that way. In any case, I was relieved to learn that Vicki hadn't spent a night in the woods. She'd rented a room in a house at the edge of the forest and simply made herself comfortable on the porch during the hours when Callistra was overhead. The Devil's Eye. So we followed suit. We sat out there and listened to the sound of the woods. Occasionally, something howled. Presumably a mahar . The owner of the house, who stayed with us for a while, a.s.sured us that the creatures rarely came near the town. "They're scared of people," he said. The psychiatrist seemed to me to have a handle on things. Nevertheless, I had my scrambler with me. Alex smiled at that. "It's a good move," he said. "You never know. But-" "But what, Alex?" "We'd probably be safer if you had something that shoots silver bullets." , but it apparently didn't work that way. In any case, I was relieved to learn that Vicki hadn't spent a night in the woods. She'd rented a room in a house at the edge of the forest and simply made herself comfortable on the porch during the hours when Callistra was overhead. The Devil's Eye. So we followed suit. We sat out there and listened to the sound of the woods. Occasionally, something howled. Presumably a mahar . The owner of the house, who stayed with us for a while, a.s.sured us that the creatures rarely came near the town. "They're scared of people," he said. The psychiatrist seemed to me to have a handle on things. Nevertheless, I had my scrambler with me. Alex smiled at that. "It's a good move," he said. "You never know. But-" "But what, Alex?" "We'd probably be safer if you had something that shoots silver bullets."

We followed Vicki around the world. We spent a quiet night in a church supposedly infected by demonic forces. We visited an office building that claimed to have a haunted storage room on the eighth floor. We spent three nights on Fermo Beach, where the only thing that came ash.o.r.e was a harmless creature with an oversized sh.e.l.l. We visited an archeological site where, seven hundred years earlier, the inhabitants had sacrificed children and virgins. (It was hard to believe that was still going on nine thousand years after the Enlightenment.) We dropped in on several haunted houses. We watched in vain for the appearance of a phantom aircraft that was said to be a relic of an accident that had occurred three thousand years ago. The vehicle developed engine trouble over a populated area, and rather than attempt a landing that endangered people on the ground, the pilot turned out to sea. The plane went down, and the pilot was lost before rescuers could reach him. According to local legend, the plane reappeared each year on the anniversary of the event. Vicki had planned her trip well, and arranged to be present on the correct night. We couldn't duplicate the date without waiting the better part of a year. Was there anything to the story? There had been sightings of the ghostly aircraft, but it was easy enough to put a plane in the air and do a flyby. One year, as a stunt, the locals were able to persuade the airfields in the area to watch the traffic on that night "to prevent hoaxes." They got a lot of publicity out of it, and of course the plane was sighted anyhow. Some years there have been two or three ghost planes. "The kids," one shopkeeper told us in a moment of unbridled rect.i.tude, "love it."

The most interesting site, for me, was the Time Lab at Jesperson. It's out in the woods, not much more than a ruin now. It was originally built and operated eight centuries ago. The government funded it for a while, but there was no success, and eventually, according to the story, they gave up and abandoned the place. The townspeople insist that there was a breakthrough, though, but that the program directors, confronted with the ability to move through the ages, decided it was too dangerous. So they hid the truth. The lab was officially abandoned. Some of the researchers, however, had disappeared into the past and the future. People there claimed they still showed up on occasion. It's been eight hundred years, and, if you believe the story, they're still young. "Why," a waitress at the Copper Club told us, "Gene Korashevski was here just last week." "Who's Gene Korashevski?" "One of the researchers. He lives in the Cara.s.sa Age." "Lives? You mean he's still alive? After eight hundred years?" "In the Cara.s.sa Age, he is." Alex couldn't resist himself. "Never heard of the Cara.s.sa Age," he said. "When was that?" "It hasn't happened yet." She was good. She was talking as if this was matter-of-fact stuff. The way you might tell somebody you collect cats. Later, when we were alone at the table eating lunch, Alex speculated on how nice it would be to have the capability to travel in time. "What would you do with it?" I asked him. "Where would you go?" He loved the idea. "Imagine what we could do. How about going back and securing the cup that held Socrates' poison? Can you even begin to imagine what that would be worth?" "Alex, is that really the best thing you can think of to do with a time machine? How about going back a few years earlier and actually talking talking to Socrates? Maybe take him to lunch?" "I don't speak cla.s.sical Greek." "Well," I said, "I guess you have a point." "And it would be nice to get an early draft of to Socrates? Maybe take him to lunch?" "I don't speak cla.s.sical Greek." "Well," I said, "I guess you have a point." "And it would be nice to get an early draft of First Light First Light ." ." First Light First Light . The masterpiece by Saija Brant, the greatest dramatist of all time. "I think I'd still settle," I said, "for a chance to say h.e.l.lo to Saija Brant." Our salads came. He studied his for a moment, then looked up. "Chase, you have no imagination." . The masterpiece by Saija Brant, the greatest dramatist of all time. "I think I'd still settle," I said, "for a chance to say h.e.l.lo to Saija Brant." Our salads came. He studied his for a moment, then looked up. "Chase, you have no imagination."

FIFTEEN.

There's no such thing as the supernatural. Everything, by definition, is natural . But you have to find out what the rules are.- Love You to Death Eventually, we tracked her to Livingstone, the two-hundred-year-old estate of Borgas Cleev, where the dictator had delighted in personally running drills and lasers into anyone who displeased him, and where, according to legend, the cries of his victims could still be heard on windswept nights, when Callistra commanded the heavens. But the trail went cold there. Vicki had arranged to spend a night inside inside the mansion, talked the next day with a few of the townspeople, then gone away. We could find no sign of her after that. We roamed the area, questioning book dealers, librarians, police officers, journalists, anyone we found in the streets. Several reported having seen her, and a few said they'd talked with her. She'd seemed in good spirits, they'd said. But there was no indication of her destination after she'd left Livingstone. So we sat frustrated in a hotel suite. Alex had been tracking the time line, and Vicki's appearance in Livingstone had come near the end of her stay on Salud Afar. Ten days after she'd left here, she would board the the mansion, talked the next day with a few of the townspeople, then gone away. We could find no sign of her after that. We roamed the area, questioning book dealers, librarians, police officers, journalists, anyone we found in the streets. Several reported having seen her, and a few said they'd talked with her. She'd seemed in good spirits, they'd said. But there was no indication of her destination after she'd left Livingstone. So we sat frustrated in a hotel suite. Alex had been tracking the time line, and Vicki's appearance in Livingstone had come near the end of her stay on Salud Afar. Ten days after she'd left here, she would board the Arbison Arbison and return to Rimway. "I wonder," Alex said, "when she decided to leave." He made a couple of calls, got the StarFlight ticket office, and identified himself. He asked when the and return to Rimway. "I wonder," Alex said, "when she decided to leave." He made a couple of calls, got the StarFlight ticket office, and identified himself. He asked when the Arbison Arbison would have had to leave Salud Afar. They gave him the date. It was eleven days after she'd left Livingstone. "I'm trying to find an old friend," he said. "She was on that flight. I wonder if you could tell me when she bought her ticket?" would have had to leave Salud Afar. They gave him the date. It was eleven days after she'd left Livingstone. "I'm trying to find an old friend," he said. "She was on that flight. I wonder if you could tell me when she bought her ticket?"

"I'm sorry, sir. We don't give out that kind of information."

Alex ran the original transmission, Vicki Greene with fear in her eyes and her hands rolled into fists. "I know this will strike you as odd, but I don't know who else can help me." "I know this will strike you as odd, but I don't know who else can help me." The white-and-gold blouse lifted and fell. Ha.s.sAN GOLDMAN, the blouse read. Who the h.e.l.l was Ha.s.san Goldman? The white-and-gold blouse lifted and fell. Ha.s.sAN GOLDMAN, the blouse read. Who the h.e.l.l was Ha.s.san Goldman? "Since you're not here, I'm asking your AI to forward this message. I'm a.s.suming the cost." "Since you're not here, I'm asking your AI to forward this message. I'm a.s.suming the cost." And the arc of six stars. And the arc of six stars. "I'm in over my head, Mr. Benedict. G.o.d help me, they're all dead." "I'm in over my head, Mr. Benedict. G.o.d help me, they're all dead." He ran it again. He ran it again.

"I'm in over my head."

"Chase," he said, "who or what is Ha.s.san Goldman?" He ran a search. Ha.s.san Goldmans were more numerous on Salud Afar than they had been on Rimway. One did medical enhancements. Another Ha.s.san Goldman was a noted law firm in the capital. Ha.s.san Goldman specialized in caring for pets. He was an actor, dead these twenty years, who'd performed comedy, and was still beloved by a substantial portion of the population. Another Goldman did landscaping in a place neither of us had ever heard of. He had been the captain years ago of the tour s.h.i.+p Leesa Leesa , who'd sacrificed himself, after his engines had blown, in a largely successful effort to save his pa.s.sengers. Three Ha.s.san Goldmans had lived in various places and apparently never done anything except reproduce. He'd been a major sports figure. He'd been one of seven people killed in an avalanche while skiing in a cordoned-off area that skiers weren't supposed to use. He prepared special lotions to help aching backs. There were more. Was there any connection between any of these Ha.s.san Goldmans and Vicki Greene? None that we could find. Were any of the Ha.s.san Goldmans connected with claims of paranormal events? , who'd sacrificed himself, after his engines had blown, in a largely successful effort to save his pa.s.sengers. Three Ha.s.san Goldmans had lived in various places and apparently never done anything except reproduce. He'd been a major sports figure. He'd been one of seven people killed in an avalanche while skiing in a cordoned-off area that skiers weren't supposed to use. He prepared special lotions to help aching backs. There were more. Was there any connection between any of these Ha.s.san Goldmans and Vicki Greene? None that we could find. Were any of the Ha.s.san Goldmans connected with claims of paranormal events?

"None known."

Alex kept the image of Vicki frozen over a coffee table while we looked. The name on the blouse was inscribed in black above an arc of six black stars. Six stars. "Six people," said Alex, "died on the Leesa Leesa . Five other than himself." The heroic captain had saved seventeen. "Coincidence?" "So where," I asked, "does that leave us?" . Five other than himself." The heroic captain had saved seventeen. "Coincidence?" "So where," I asked, "does that leave us?"

Alex sank into his chair. I asked the AI if any of the five pa.s.sengers had been connected with claims of paranormal events.

"None known."

"We're asking the wrong questions," said Alex. "What's the right one?" "The obvious one. Who sells s.h.i.+rts with Ha.s.san Goldman imprints?"

"There is no sales source on record."

"Somebody's making his own," I said. "Probably a church, a charity, some sort of special event." He asked the AI to connect him with the s.p.a.ce station. "The general information desk," he added. A young woman in a dark green uniform appeared. "Orbital Center," "Orbital Center," she said. she said. "How may I a.s.sist you?" "How may I a.s.sist you?"

"Can you tell me," said Alex, "if the name Ha.s.san Goldman is used by any of the businesses on the station?" "No, sir," "No, sir," she said. she said. "However, there "However, there is is a tour s.h.i.+p here by that name." a tour s.h.i.+p here by that name." "Do they give out s.h.i.+rts to pa.s.sengers?" "Do they give out s.h.i.+rts to pa.s.sengers?"

"Not that I know of."

"Okay. What can you tell me about it?"

"How about if I switch you over to the tour company?"

"Okay. Please." There was a pause. Then a male voice: "Starlight Tours." "Starlight Tours." "My name is Benedict. One of your s.h.i.+ps is the "My name is Benedict. One of your s.h.i.+ps is the Ha.s.san Goldman Ha.s.san Goldman ?" ?" "Yes. That's correct." "Yes. That's correct." "I'm trying to locate a friend. Her name is Vicki Greene. I think she took a tour on the "I'm trying to locate a friend. Her name is Vicki Greene. I think she took a tour on the Goldman Goldman several months ago. I was wondering if you could verify that?" several months ago. I was wondering if you could verify that?"

"I'm sorry. But we don't give out that kind of information."

Alex looked in my direction. Worth a try. "I wonder if it would be possible to speak to the captain of the Goldman Goldman ." ." "He's off duty," "He's off duty," came the response. came the response. "He'll be in tomorrow morning." "He'll be in tomorrow morning." Alex said thanks, switched off, and looked up the specifications for the Alex said thanks, switched off, and looked up the specifications for the Goldman Goldman . Among them he found the captain's name. Ivan Sloan. . Among them he found the captain's name. Ivan Sloan. "Ivan?" "Ivan?" I said. "Yes. Do you know him?" "He was one of my trainers at StarFlight." "Good," said Alex. "Marvelous." He asked the AI to find the number for Ivan Sloan. "You'll probably find him at Samuels." I said. "Yes. Do you know him?" "He was one of my trainers at StarFlight." "Good," said Alex. "Marvelous." He asked the AI to find the number for Ivan Sloan. "You'll probably find him at Samuels."

"That is correct, sir. Do you wish to be connected?"

"Please." Alex got up, signaled for me to do the call, and left the room.

Ivan was one of those people who strikes you as being a bit slow until you get to know him. He was always there when I needed him and, when I was having some doubts about whether I'd ever graduate, he took me aside and asked how serious I was about piloting interstellars. I told him I was serious. That there was nothing in my life I wanted more than that. "Then get your act together," he'd told me. "You'll be okay. You've got all the talent you need. h.e.l.l, it doesn't take that much talent. All you have to do is be smart enough to tell the AI what to do." He said that as if he meant it. "What you don't have," he added, "is confidence in yourself. Probably from too many people over a lifetime telling you what you've gotten wrong." There was truth to that. My dad was forever warning me not to touch stuff, so I wouldn't break it. When he saw me he knew me at once, and broke into a big smile. "Chase," "Chase," he said, he said, "what are you doing out here?" "what are you doing out here?" He was seated at a table, with a cup in one hand, a dinner plate and silverware in front of him. Behind him I could see a mural. A sailboat. "Came out to see He was seated at a table, with a cup in one hand, a dinner plate and silverware in front of him. Behind him I could see a mural. A sailboat. "Came out to see you you , Ivan. How are you?" , Ivan. How are you?"

"I'm serious. You're the last person I expected to see in this corner of the cosmos."

"I'm on vacation," I said. "How about you? How do you come to be here?" "I'm "I'm from from here." here." "You're kidding. You're from Salud Afar? I never knew that." He shrugged. "You're kidding. You're from Salud Afar? I never knew that." He shrugged. "I might not have mentioned it." "I might not have mentioned it." "Running tours?" He looked embarra.s.sed. "Running tours?" He looked embarra.s.sed. "That's pretty much what it's come down to." "That's pretty much what it's come down to." Tours from Salud Afar? I looked through a viewport at the black sky. "So where do people go? What's to see?" "Varesnikov," he said. "It has a magnificent set of rings and moons. And people like Sophora, too. It's a crystal world. Looks great when you get the right angle on the sunlight." "I guess." I saw something in his eyes. Pain, maybe. Or embarra.s.sment. As if his life hadn't turned out the way he'd expected. "So how'd you turn up on Rimway?" Tours from Salud Afar? I looked through a viewport at the black sky. "So where do people go? What's to see?" "Varesnikov," he said. "It has a magnificent set of rings and moons. And people like Sophora, too. It's a crystal world. Looks great when you get the right angle on the sunlight." "I guess." I saw something in his eyes. Pain, maybe. Or embarra.s.sment. As if his life hadn't turned out the way he'd expected. "So how'd you turn up on Rimway?"

"I cleared out of here when I was twenty-two, Chase. Those were bad times. I didn't much like living under the Bandahr." He turned away for a moment. Spoke to someone else, then angled the link so I could see the people with him: a man and two women. We did a quick round of introductions. One of the women was his wife Mira. She was attractive, congenial, probably twenty years younger than he was. The other couple were friends. "Let me ask a quick question, Ivan," I said, "and I'll get out of your way. A couple of months ago, you had a pa.s.senger named Vicki Greene. Do you remember her?" He turned away for a moment. Spoke to someone else, then angled the link so I could see the people with him: a man and two women. We did a quick round of introductions. One of the women was his wife Mira. She was attractive, congenial, probably twenty years younger than he was. The other couple were friends. "Let me ask a quick question, Ivan," I said, "and I'll get out of your way. A couple of months ago, you had a pa.s.senger named Vicki Greene. Do you remember her?" "The company did," "The company did," he said. he said. "I didn't." "I didn't." "I a.s.sumed she'd gone out on the "I a.s.sumed she'd gone out on the Goldman Goldman ." ." "As a matter of fact, she did. But it wasn't my s.h.i.+p then. Haley Khan was running her at the time." "As a matter of fact, she did. But it wasn't my s.h.i.+p then. Haley Khan was running her at the time."

"Would it be possible for me to talk to Haley? Can you give me his code?"

"He's gone, Chase. Disappeared."

"How do you mean?"

"He vanished. Right off the station."

"How could that happen?"

"Don't know. It happened several months ago. Right after Vicki Greene had been here. There's no record he took the shuttle down. But he didn't show up for work one day and we've never been able to find him."

"You called the police?" "The CSS. Yes. They couldn't find him either." "The CSS. Yes. They couldn't find him either." He paused. Said something to the others at the table. Came back to me: He paused. Said something to the others at the table. Came back to me: "What's your connection with him, Chase?" "What's your connection with him, Chase?" I told him about Vicki. "Do you know where she went? On the I told him about Vicki. "Do you know where she went? On the Goldman Goldman ?" ?" "Probably the standard tour route. I never got a chance to talk to him after the flight." "Probably the standard tour route. I never got a chance to talk to him after the flight."

"Did anybody else?"

"I don't think so, Chase. That was the same question the Coalition guys were asking. Haley came off the flight and went back to the hotel. He usually did that. He wasn't much for hanging around. Anyway he had a couple days off coming to him, and we just never saw him again. Ride with Vicki Greene and walk out of the world. It's like one of her books."