Free The Devil's Eye by Jack McDevitt Page B

again. It was a way to feel at home, I suppose. But the sky above that ocean was different. There was only a single star. Callistra. I wondered what might have happened had a sentient race developed on that world. How they would have perceived that single bright light peering down at them? It was a beautiful star, its azure glow amplified by the dark night surrounding it. The eye of a compassionate deity, perhaps. I wondered whether Vicki Greene had stood out there, perhaps in the same place. What would she have thought? She with her vampires and demons, under so striking a sky?

EIGHT
Yes, Colton. It is quite true that we enjoy the sun, that it illuminates our lives, and serves as a metaphor for all that is good. But the reality is that we love the night. It is where all women are beautiful, where the imagination has free rein, where plots are hatched and terrible things happen. And we would have it no other way.
    - Love You to Death
    Boldinai Point was best known for its cemetery. Maybe it was the only claim to fame the place had. It was located in an area called the Outland, on a large island a quarter of the way around the globe. We caught a morning flight and landed three hours later in a coastal city. From there we rode a gravity train inland to Boraka. We stayed there overnight, and in the morning rented a skimmer, sat back, and let the AI take us the rest of the way to Boldinai Point. It was rough country. Dry, flat, sandy, with lots of rock. To the west, a chain of mountains cut across the horizon. The Point itself is a town of about four thousand. I couldn't imagine how the term Point had
    gotten into the name. It was located in the middle of nowhere. It had a distinction, though. It was one of the few places where people had been relatively free under the Bandahriate. Though it had been part of Cleev's domain, it was a long way from the center of power, and so small as to be apparently not worth worrying about. So it was the place where, for three centuries, rebels and malcontents and renegade scientists had retreated. It looked remote enough that they wouldn't have been able to cause any trouble, so the dictator might have been just as happy. Salud Afar did not have-and still does not have, so far as I know-the minimum payout system that allows a citizen to loaf for a lifetime if he so desires. No one in power on that world had thought it was a good idea, so they never incorporated it. There, you worked or you became dependent on the charity of others. Or worse. As Alex and I descended into that lonely place, I wondered how the inhabitants made their living. The Point was a collection of weatherworn buildings erected along a small series of cross streets. Its celebrated cemetery was located north of town. From the air, it had looked like every other cemetery I'd seen, just a collection of markers inside an iron fence. Outside the fence, the land was flat and gray and ran unimpeded to the horizon. The hotel and the restaurant were crowded. "I guess it's a fairly prosperous tourist spot," said Alex. "Is there something I'm missing?" I asked. "Or is it just the cemetery?" "I think it's just the cemetery," he said. "And don't get that look on your face. It's not every town that has an unquiet grave." The elderly owner of a souvenir store told us the story: "Peter Cleev started it." "Cleev?" Alex said. "One of the dictators?" "Four centuries ago. He got upset because some of his enforcers were being killed by rebels. So he launched a program to develop a better enforcer. Somebody you couldn't take down with just a shot or two from a scrambler. He wanted something that wouldn't feel pain." "Are you serious?" asked Alex. "Do I look as if I'd lie to you?" The shopkeeper laughed and showed us a print of Peter Cleev. Long, thin guy with a pointed beard and satanic eyes. The evil emperor right out of an over-the-top HV. "He didn't want anybody to know about it because it would undermine his image. The Cleevs thought the rest