The Devil's Eye

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 SHORE 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 Shore 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.' '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 principal 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 assurances 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 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 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-'

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 .'

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 slooshing 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 massive enough to sink our canoe. The other wasn't much more than a kid. He asked them if something was wrong. 'Goddam Mutes again,' the big one said. 'What happened?' 'They're shooting at us.' 'At Kumpallah,' added the kid. Kumpallah 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 here.' Alex angled himself so he could