The Devil's Eye Part 12

FORTY-THREE.

People like to say, during a journey, that only the journey matters, and not the destination. Believe me, Lia, the destination matters. Oh, yes, it matters.- Dying to Know You 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 s.h.i.+eld could be a.s.sembled 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 s.h.i.+eld stopped all evacuation attempts. When it became firm, it provoked worldwide criticism. The Administrator was put under extreme pressure, and there were even two a.s.sa.s.sination 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.

We did not see him again, in person, after the awards ceremony. When we checked out of the hotel the next morning, we found flowers waiting for us, with a text message that he wished us well, and informing us that we would always be welcome on Salud Afar. I spent a rousing weekend in Kayoga, the city of romance, with Lance Depardeau. He'd recognized me from the news accounts and told me he would never have believed anyone would be crazy enough to take the chances I had in the taxicab. A few days later he showed up unexpectedly at another celebratory luncheon, and proposed to me. "It's short notice, and I know it's not smart to commit myself so quickly, and I'm risking losing you. But I'm also going to lose you if I stand by and watch you go back to Rimway." He was right, of course. We'd be too far apart to carry on a serious relations.h.i.+p. So I said thanks, but let's wait and see. I fell in love with him, and left him. I entertained for a while a dream of eventually going back, or maybe of his coming to Rimway. But it never happened. And he recently let me know he'd met somebody.

I tracked down Jara, who was a.s.signed to the Traffic Control station in East Quentin, outside Marinopolis. Unlike Lance, she hadn't gotten a good look at who was riding in the taxi. She was too busy trying to hang on to the door. I arrived as her s.h.i.+ft finished, and said h.e.l.lo. She, too, knew me immediately as the woman who was getting all the attention in the media. But she didn't connect me with the runaway cab. When I told her, her face darkened. "You could have gotten us both killed." "I had to keep going," I said. I told her about the asteroid. "Why didn't you just explain?" "Because the CSS was after me. I couldn't afford to-" "Look"-she wanted no nonsense from me-"I haven't been following the story that close. But I don't appreciate what you did. Next time, you might try trusting us." And she turned away.

Reporters found the young As.h.i.+yyurean male who'd followed me out to the raft. The interview that followed was translated into standard and made available all over the Confederacy. He gallantly denied any special claim of heroism, but admitted he'd thought twice about going into the water with both me and the vooparoo vooparoo running loose. The reporter, also a Mute, asked without a trace of humor which of us had been scarier. I'm happy to report he gave first prize to the running loose. The reporter, also a Mute, asked without a trace of humor which of us had been scarier. I'm happy to report he gave first prize to the vooparoo vooparoo . But he had to think about it. . But he had to think about it.

Rob Peifer wrote Callistra: The Hunt for the Devil's Eye , recounting the entire story. It's won awards and has made Peifer one of the most visible journalists on Salud Afar. At least that's what he says. He is currently working on a biography of Vicki Greene. The book made celebrities of Orman and s.h.i.+ala, who'd rescued us from the crash after our escape from the plateau. They were recognized by a local civic group as the Citizens of the Year. Alex and I attended the ceremony. We took Ivan and his wife to dinner the night before we left for home. We owed them a major vote of thanks. Alex has since sent him a comm link that was once owned by Karis Timm, the legendary physician.

When I finally got back to Rimway, Ben told me there was no point going any further, and we became an ex-couple. It was a pity. I liked Ben.

Alex brought the Churchill book home with us. He admits that yes, it was a theft of sorts, but Kilgore didn't know what he had, had no appreciation for it, and, anyhow, he would never have made sense of what Churchill stood for. And technically, we'd found it lying loose. It sold recently for an amount that would have covered double our expenses for the entire Salud Afar mission.

A new recreation center was recently erected in Moreska, and named for Edward Demery, who lost his life trying to warn the world. His partner in that effort, Jennifer Kelton, is also remembered. Travis University, where she once taught math and physics, has named its science lab for her.

Years after the publication of her last novel, Vicki Greene remains a major figure in the literary world. The people who decide such things maintain that it is too early to know for certain, but most seem to be betting that she will reign with Teslov, Bikai, and Gordon as the giants of the age. And, of course, on Salud Afar, she will always be remembered as the woman who put things together, who figured out why someone thought it didn't matter whether an obscure wedding ceremony had a religious dimension, and how it connected with a forgotten asteroid.

EPILOGUE.

The skimmer began its descent through the late-autumn sky. Below, the town was indistinguishable from a thousand others on the vast prairie that separates the western mountain chains from the eastern forests. It was located on a river, a tributary of the Myakonda, in an area of moderate temperatures. The climate was pleasant. Snowstorms were rare, tornadoes nonexistent. Cory Greene looked down from the skimmer. He saw the school, two churches, and several hundred houses set along quiet streets, surrounding parks, and ball fields. Several ball games were in progress. "Nice area," he said. Obermaier was still sitting with his eyes closed. He wasn't happy. "You understand, Mr. Greene, I do not approve of this." "I understand, Doctor." "Ordinarily, I would not even have considered your request. To my knowledge, this has never been done before." "I understand." "It's a clear ethical violation." "I know." "I'd much prefer we simply leave things as they are." "That would be unfair to her." "So is disrupting her life." Greene was weary of the conversation. How many times were they going to go over it? "Doctor, I've signed the protocol. I won't identify myself to her. After today, I will never return to this town. I will tell no one about what we are doing here. And I will, under the most severe torture, not reveal the location." Children were jumping rope in the streets. Kids were playing on swings and chasing one another through backyards. Several people glanced up from a bench as they pa.s.sed overhead. They started down. Greene's heartbeat picked up. "We've informed her we're coming," said Obermaier. "She knows we have news, but she has no idea what that might be." "Okay." "She'll recognize me. She thinks I'm an uncle. So please let me do the talking. If questioned, you should inform her you're here strictly as an observer. They were descending toward a modest single-story home at the end of a tree-lined drive. It had a lawn, a picket fence, and a large flowering bush in front. "Is that where she lives?" he asked. "Yes. She's a music teacher now." "That's hard to believe." "I suppose so."

They drifted down and landed on a pad shared with the house next door. Cory opened the hatch just as church bells began to ring. Obermaier looked at him. "You're sure now you want to do this? There'll be no going back." "I'm sure."

"She's quite happy with her present existence. She has a family, which we've gone to quite a lot of trouble and expense to put together. You're going to disrupt all that." "I know." "Okay." Obermaier took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The church bells stopped and the town seemed very quiet. "You understand this won't restore her mind. It won't set everything back as it was." "I understand." He opened the door and admitted a cool breeze. There was a light on in the living room. He gripped the rim of the hatchway, slipped out of his seat, and stood on the pad. "Even if she can't remember, she deserves to know who she was. Who she is is ." He led Obermaier across the front of the house. A lamp came on in the entrance, and an AI asked who was there. ." He led Obermaier across the front of the house. A lamp came on in the entrance, and an AI asked who was there.