The Devil's Eye (36 page)

Kassel arrived while things were still going strong, and he happily joined the celebration. He'd heard the good news about the announcement from his own sources. We partied into the night. Dancing was something the Mutes didn't do well. In fact, they didn't do it at all. Their music didn't encourage it, but eventually Alex invited me onto the middle of the deck and we danced under the stars while the Mutes watched with whatever reactions they might have had. Later, in private, Selotta told me they'd grown somewhat alarmed because they'd feared it might be the prelude to

a sexual encounter. In plain sight. After all, she added, who knew what humans were capable of? "But," I said, "they would have been privy to everything we were feeling. How could they think that?" "That's the whole point," she said. "We
did
know what you were feeling." "Oh." "So who knew where it was going to lead? And, by the way, we have nothing against sex, even occasionally in public, but I don't think anyone would have been quite prepared for a display by two humans." "Right." "I'm sorry. I see I have offended you." "No, Selotta. Not at all." The neighbors had gone home, and Alex and Kassel were outside on the deck doing man talk. "It's good to have you here," she said. "Thank you." "You will forgive me, but humans are sometimes hard to understand. I know you would not willingly harm anyone." "That's so." "Are you a standard type?" "Beg pardon?" "Are your attitudes more or less typical of everybody?" "I think so. You've visited Earth. What do you think?" "It's too confusing to try to sort out a crowd." I looked at her for a long time. "I think most individuals are reasonable. And have no inclination to harm others." "Then how do you explain your history of wars? And criminal violence? I don't understand it-" "I don't either. We tend to get together in groups,
tribes
, and we do things, and support actions, that we would never think of doing if we were alone." I looked across at her. "It's a characteristic we've never been entirely able to shake off." Well," she said, "now that I think of it, I don't guess we're that much different."

The AI maintained a search of the news channels for word that the Confederacy had reacted. The response came just before we retired for the evening. There wasn't much of it Alex and I could make out. Just a formally dressed Ashiyyurean seated comfortably in front of a mountain-scape portrait looking across the room at us while music played in the background and Selotta and Kassel picked up whatever message was being relayed. We knew it had become official when they turned and looked directly at us. "Very good," said Kassel. "The Confederates will observe the cease-fire, and they express their hope that it will be possible to achieve a more permanent arrangement. They've even offered reparations for the
Monsorrat
incident." The current round of fighting had been triggered by the destruction of the Mute cruiser
Monsorrat
with its escort at Khaja Luan. It had been carrying a diplomatic team when it was destroyed with all hands. Three of the four destroyers serving as its escort had also been damaged or destroyed. The attack appeared to have been inadvertent, the result of a communication breakdown, but that hadn't mattered very much. It seemed as if everything militated against a peaceful relationship. I mentioned the tribal theory to Alex that night as we were heading to bed, and he agreed that there was probably a lot of truth to it. "Sometimes I think," he said, "there has to be an
Other
, an enemy against whom the tribe can rally. Check Haymakk Colonna," he said. Colonna had famously remarked that peace between the Confederacy and the Mutes would come on the day they found a common enemy.

It was a bright hour in what had been an unrelentingly dark few months. Alex elected to forgo his daily visit to the museum. Maybe because Selotta was not scheduled in-or she'd
taken
the day off, I don't

remember which-but we were all seated out on the deck in weather she described as unseasonably cool. The windows were down, and the heating system was on. Giambrey had arrived just before breakfast, but he was consumed watching for more news and exchanging encrypted messages with his contacts on Rimway. They were, he said, waiting for an announcement from the Confederates that the fleet was being dispatched to help at Salud Afar.
That
would be seriously big news. "They've still not committed themselves formally," he said. Clouds drifted out of the west, the sky was growing dark, and rain was coming. "High-level discussions are apparently under way," he continued, barely able to contain his enthusiasm. "We're hearing that Dellaconda, Seabright, and Camino are unhappy. They don't trust the Ashiyyur." Alex admitted he understood their concerns. "It's the same story you told us," he said to Selotta. "Politicians have been telling them for decades that the Ashiyyur can't be trusted, that they're savages. Now the politicians are telling them it's okay. We were just kidding." He shook his head. "They're border worlds. If there were an attack, they'd be first to be hit." The stakes were high. Either side was easily capable of taking out entire worlds. Selotta turned in my direction. "You're absolutely right, Chase," she said. I hadn't said anything, but I was thinking how irrational it all was. The rain started and turned quickly into a downpour. A cold wind swept in off the ocean. Kassel called to ask whether we'd heard anything more. His sources wanted to know what the Confederates were going to do. There was talk the Ashiyyur might demand a summit meeting with the Executive Director of the Confederacy, Ariel Whiteside. That would allow them to determine his intentions. The rumor had apparently reached the Confederacy. Giambrey watched the story come in and closed his eyes. "They won't permit a summit," he said. "Whiteside's given his word it won't happen." "Why not?" I asked. "That seems like a simple solution to the problem. Let the Chief Minister see for himself what Whiteside is thinking." "That's exactly why they won't do it, Chase. They're arguing that telepathic skills give the Ashiyyur too much of an advantage." "That's sheer lunacy," I said. We watched the storm beat against the windows. Alex leaned forward. "Not really," he said. "They have a point. At some stage, somebody's simply going to have to take a chance." Giambrey reacted to something he'd just read. "What is it?" asked Alex. "Toxicon's rep walked out. Don't know why." The evening wore on, and the storm showed no sign of abating. Rain got swept against the house. Kassel got home late again and came in drenched. He arrived with a recommendation that we take a few days and do a tour. "There are all sorts of historical and natural sites within easy reach of Provno. The Kaiman Cliffs look down into the deepest known canyon on any-" The discussion was cut short by another message to Giambrey. He read it, and smiled. Not an ordinary smile. But a wide grin with his fists in the air and his eyes blazing. "Yes!" he said. And before anyone could ask: "The Confederacy just voted to send assistance to Salud Afar." That ignited a celebration. We hugged each other and screeched and generally carried on until the neighbors called over to ask what had happened. I visualized the fleet setting out, a thousand ships to the rescue, cruisers and destroyers and patrol craft and support vessels of all kinds. Even then it might not be enough, but it would damn sure give Kilgore a fighting chance. I don't know that I had ever felt more ecstatic. It was the high point of my life. It was the reason Alex and I had gone to Salud Afar. No, more than the reason: We'd gone to solve a mystery, and maybe save a few lives, if it turned out that anyone was actually in danger. I think we had both suspected that Vicki had developed a mental problem, and that in the end we would go back with only that knowledge for our trouble.

But this- We were watching while people moved to save a
world
! Of course there's a lot to be said for waiting until the money's in the bank before you start making announcements. The neighbors showed up, and the screaming and hugging started again. There was a fresh round every time somebody new came to the door. They were all wet, most were drenched, but it didn't matter. We embraced them anyhow. During the course of all this I asked Selotta why it was happening? "Why are your neighbors so involved?" "Because," she said, "they'd like the constant wars to stop. But there's something more." "And what's that?" "They've shared everything you've seen and felt. They've been on Salud Afar, too. Through you. They've seen the children and the crowds in the streets. And they've tasted the fear." We were still celebrating when Giambrey caught our attention. But this time he looked shocked. One of our visitors spoke through his voice box. "What's wrong, Giambrey?" "The Confederates are sending eleven ships.
Eleven
. Cargo and transport vessels. And that's all. The announcement was just made."
"Eleven?"
I said. "What the hell do they expect Kilgore to do with eleven?" Alex sank into a chair. Kassel simply stared out at the rain. "A token force," Kassel said. He looked at his wife. A silent message passed between them.
Even now, they do not trust us.

Maybe especially now.

There were rumors that, despite the announcement, there was strong disagreement with the decision. That a dozen worlds, led by Toxicon, were strongly opposed. That Whiteside might even be overruled by the Confederate Council. But the following day, the Director spoke from the Hall of the People on Rimway. He sat behind the plain, battered desk that was part of his image. He looked lost in thought, his dark blue eyes peering past us into the distance. Public figures traditionally sit straight during these events, but Whiteside was supporting his jaw on one fist, his elbow planted on the desktop. His mustache, as always, was unkempt in a way that was intended to suggest a man of action, a decision-maker who could be counted on. He shook his head, as if dismayed by events, inhaled, and finally focused on us. The chair creaked as he leaned forward, reminding me that the omicron carried sound.
"Citizens and friends,"
he said,
"you are all aware by now of the desperate situation that has developed on Salud Afar. Administrator Kilgore is doing everything he can to alleviate the situation, but in fact there is little that
can
be done. The scale of the approaching disaster is simply too great. "Too great by far. "He has appealed to the Confederate Worlds for assistance. I am proud to say we are responding with all the resources at our disposal. Hundreds of ships, many operated by private corporations, and in some cases by individuals, are on their way as I speak to you tonight. Administrator

Kilgore has found a world that is being converted into a refuge. It is not by any means close to Salud Afar, but it is the nearest that nature has provided. "We will be helping to move as many of his people there as we possibly can. We are sending supplies, engineers, and other specialists who will assist in the effort to erect shelters on the new world, which they've named
Sanctum
. "In addition, we will be sending the
Alberta
, with its escort of destroyers and support vessels to assist in any way they can. Finally, I'm pleased to report that the Council has voted an aid package totaling six hundred million."

When he was finished, the imager pulled back, and we saw that four senior Council members were in the room with him. It was a display meant to signal unity. He thanked us for our attention, reassured us that the Confederacy would continue to do whatever was humanly possible, and delivered his signature "good night," looking away as he did so, as though other decisions required his immediate attention. That quickly, it was over.

In the morning, we heard the reactions from Assemblage representatives and other prominent Ashiyyureans:

The attacks gathered force. We were noisemakers, barbarians, savages, troglodytes, and something that Kassel translated-with an amused glitter in his eye-as Yahoos. We were not to be trusted. We were fanatics. We were hopelessly low on the evolutionary scale. One young female, interviewed at a flight school, commented that eventually it would become necessary to exterminate us. She went on, according to Kassel, to suggest that the coming catastrophe at Salud Afar would be exactly what humans deserved. That Salud Afar had nothing to do with the Confederate decision seemed to have gotten past her. Late in the afternoon of the third day after Whiteside's announcement, a group of Kassel's neighbors showed up outside. These were the same ones who'd celebrated with us earlier in the week. They gathered at the front door and waited patiently for Selotta to answer. (Mutes, of course, don't need to knock to signal their arrival.) We were in the living room. Alex and Kassel were playing chess. Kassel, who could see the reason behind every move Alex made, had tried to level the playing field by wearing a blindfold. But it didn't matter. Alex was still getting hammered. Circe had rejoined us. She, Selotta, and I had been talking about what we thought would come next, when Selotta detected our visitors. I got up with her, and when I saw them at the door, my first thought was that they'd come to run us out of town. Or worse. Selotta stopped to glance back at me. Her diamond eyes were simultaneously amused and sad. "It's all right, ladies," she said. "They're still friends." There were six or seven of them. They came in, and they all stood looking at one another and at Selotta, exchanging something. Then, as if they were a single organism, they turned in our direction. One came forward, with a voice box prominently displayed on his collar. "Circe, and Chase, and Alex," he said, "we know what you are going through, we have listened to the slurs that are going around, and we want you to know that we are aware you're not cruel idiots." He stopped. Looked behind him at the others. Touched his lips with a forefinger. "Perhaps I didn't phrase that as I should have." One by one they reached out and touched us. By human standards there wasn't much to it, simply pressing fingers against a forearm, or a shoulder. But it was
not
an Ashiyyurean gesture. "We want you to know," he continued, "that, if need be, we will stand with you."