The Devil's Eye by Jack McDevitt Page A

either, and they were the high point of the flight.
    A month after departure, we emerged from hyperspace. Usually, you make your jump out into normal space and the sky lights up. You get the local sun-assuming you've jumped into a planetary system, which is almost inevitably the case-and a sky full of stars. And maybe some planets and moons. Near Salud Afar, you get the sun and not much else. In our rear, a gauzy arc marked the rim of the Milky Way. Salud Afar was a small bright globe, dead ahead. Otherwise, the sky was utterly dark, save for two stars, one bright and one dim. "It's unique among worlds with large land animals," said Belle. "It's the only such world known that has no moon. It's believed to have had one originally, but it was probably lost during the Transit." The Transit referred to the passage of an object, probably a black hole or a dwarf star, that had scrambled the system. "Theory has always held that a large moon is necessary to prevent a terrestrial-sized world from developing a distinct wobble. Which would, of course, play havoc with climatic conditions."
    "Of course," I said.
    "Here, for whatever reason, the wobble has not happened."
    "How far are we?" I asked.
    "Three days out."
    One of the two stars, the dim one, was actually the planet Sophora. The other, a dazzling sapphire in the sky, was Callistra, twelve hundred light-years away. "It's a supergiant," said Belle. And that was it. Otherwise, the sky was jet-black. "Okay. Belle, let's open a channel to their operations center." She complied. "Samuels Ops," I said, "this is the Belle-Marie . Approaching from Rimway. Range 4.1 million klicks. Request log-in and instructions." A female voice replied: "Instructions are being forwarded to your AI in separate package, Belle-Marie. Welcome to Salud Afar." "Thank you, Ops. Estimate arrival three standard days." "You are clear. Continue on course. By the way, Belle-Marie , we have some mail for you." "Would you forward it, please?"
    "Doing it now."
    They were responses to our inquiries about Vicki. Most were negative. Didn't know her. Knew she was here but didn't get a chance to meet her. Got her to sign a crystal but they were moving us right along. Johansen, the guy who'd enjoyed several cups of imkah with Vicki, told us he hadn't actually been with her. "She was at her hotel during the interview. I never left the studio. Didn't actually see her in person."
    Of the rest, five claimed to have spent time with her. Among them was Austin Gollancz, who represented the local firm that published her on Salud Afar. "I hope," he added, "she's okay." He lived in Marinopolis. It was the original name, now restored, for the capital of Komalia, which was the principal state on the world. During the height of the Directorate, it had been Cleev City , named for the family that had for so long held global sway. We set up a conference with Gollancz. There was a time delay, but it wasn't a problem. "She came here the day after she arrived," he said. He was a small, round, prosperous-looking guy. It was obvious he'd liked Vicki. "We talked business." "Anything else?" Alex asked.
    "Well, she was excited to be here. Talked about visiting some of our spookier places. She expected to have a great time."
    "Did she have an itinerary of any kind, Austin?"
    "Not that I know of."
    "Anybody she planned to travel with?"
    "If so, she didn't mention it to me. And look, Alex, I know I'm not being much help. But this is such a shock. I want you to know if I can do anything, anything at all, just ask. Okay?"
    "Sure."
    "Thanks, Alex."

SIX
    Over the ages, it is a world whose name has become synonymous with great art. Nowhere else can we find music and sculpture and literature on their level. Whether one thinks of drama or symphonies or architecture or even botanical displays, one always has to confront their contribution. It may be related to their separation from the rest of us, or it may simply be something in the water, but we always have