The Flying Eyes (9 page)

CHAPTER NINE

Morning ticked away into afternoon, and they stayed in the Lab, taking turns with the Eye. They promised themselves that they would work until each could stand alone, without the other to pull him away, without the need to be pulled away.

But at two o'clock a knock sounded on the door and Iverson stepped in. He came three steps forward, then two steps back, as he spotted the eye floating in its cage.

“Oh,” Iverson grunted, “I didn't know you had it uncovered.”

“Come on in,” Linc said. “I'll put the tarp over it.” He covered the Eye.

“Ugly thing, isn't it,” Iverson asked, suppressing a grimace. “And so big.”

“We're whittling it down to size,” Wes said proudly.

“Do you really think so?” Iverson sounded doubtful. He drew a great breath. “I don't want either of you to take this as a personal slight or rejection, but the situation around town is getting so bad—neighbor against neighbor, the whole population hiding and sneaking and stealing—that we can't wait. Panic is spreading. The rest of the state is nervous, ready to explode at the first rumor of the Eyes heading out to them, and the country, as a whole, is jumpy. We've had to hire extra men just to keep the reporters out of here. Something has to be done, and done now.”

“We're working as fast as we can,” Linc protested.

“On your plan, yes. But we can't wait for one plan. We have to try every idea that comes along. Colonel Stanley and the National Guard have come up with one and we're putting it into operation this afternoon. In one hour, to be exact.”

“If it has soldiers in it, then I take it it's fighting,” Linc stated. “Are you and Stanley actually going to let them risk their lives again?”

Iverson waved him down. “You jump too fast, Linc. The new effort might work. Stanley has incorporated one of your own ideas into it. You caught your Eye with tear gas. Well, this fight is going to be with tear gas. The guard is going to attack the hole, and get inside it. With the Eyes incapacitated, maybe they can be destroyed.”

“So they're going to fight at three o'clock. Why did you bother to tell us?”

“I thought you'd like to come along—to observe. If anything does go wrong, then what you see will help with your own planning. You can always use information. And you've never seen the hole, have you?”

“No,” Linc admitted.

“Then come see it with me.”

Linc looked to Wes, and the other man shrugged. “Why not? We can get a look and watch the Guard's effort at the same time.”

“Good.” Iverson took Wes' acceptance as agreement for both of them. “We'll have to leave right away. I have a car ready.”

* * * *

They drove along the edge of town, headed for open country. The driver turned for the game preserve, and Iverson said, “We're not going in close. We'll be standing off. I've brought binoculars.”

“If we're going at all, we may as well go in,” Linc sputtered.

“I'm following Stanley's orders,” Iverson replied. “This is his show, and his command. If we ever have one of our own, I'll expect him to abide by our say-so.”

The car swung into a narrow lane. There were slight hills here, rolling and wooded, and they passed through brush, hearing the scrape of branches on the fenders. Ahead rose the tower of a fire-spotting station, and when they left the car, Iverson led them up to the small room that served as home and office for the watcher. Linc moved to the big glass windows, looking for the place where the hole would be, black and eerie in the trees.

“To the north,” Iverson directed him.

He looked northward, and it wasn't hard to spot. From this height, the worn path the zombie people had followed was visible from the road to the place it stopped inside the forest. And the hole crouched at the end of it—black and featureless. It wasn't just a hole now, because there were no people on the path and no activity. But as he watched, the mouth of the hole changed from stillness to movement, and the distended shape of an Eye sailed up out of it. Then another. They hovered above the clearing.

He squinted and saw movement inside the woods, too. Soldiers. The National Guard, moving up for their fight.

“It's time,” Iverson said. “They should be starting.”

The words were barely uttered when the exploding mist of gas rose from the face of the hole, and the woods came alive with the running, gas-masked figures of Guardsmen. They dashed forward, and Linc grabbed the binoculars to get a close look. The two Eyes which had been hovering were bobbing up and down, weeping and spinning in the gas. A breeze was spreading the gas low, enveloping the soldiers. It spread, clearing the mouth of the hole, and close behind it, as it left an open space, came the Eyes in force. Blue, brown, green, they zoomed up and through the smoky wisps. Eight of them, quick and deadly.

The woods blazed with gunfire, and the battle repeated itself before Linc's sickened gaze. There were just too many Eyes. The soldiers had no chance. They advanced bravely, but Linc could see the impending result so clearly that he wanted to shout to them to run.

The Eyes were above the gas, obscured from the soldiers' vision, aligning themselves for their own attack. As the gas cleared in one area, and the Guardsmen became visible to them, the Eyes tipped forward, staring at the ground, ignoring the wounds inflicted on them, and one by one the soldiers fled, or limply dropped their weapons and walked into the hole. Five went down into the blackness, then ten more, and Linc swung away from the view.

“They're losing half their men!” he shouted at Iverson. “You should have stopped Stanley. When you fail with a method once, you don't keep trying it again and again and throwing men away.”

Iverson was peering through his own binoculars. His face was white and his lips moved in silent words. “Poor devils,” the words finally came to voice. “Poor, poor devils. Eight Eyes. They can't fight eight Eyes. And more coming in from town.”

Linc swallowed the pity he felt for the soldiers and growled, “Let's go, Iverson. Now that we've seen what we came to see, allow us to get back to our own work. Every minute away is a minute too much.”

* * * *

Daylight shadowed into night and bloomed into day again, as Linc and Wes worked the clock around. Two days gone in the strain of practice, another day started. But they were learning. On Linc's last turn, he had stood against the Eye for a half-hour, giving up from fatigue and not as a result of Wes' saving tug. Wes had managed to fight for fifteen minutes.

Linc was before the cage, using his will against the will of the Eye, when Collins came in. He didn't knock, he just walked in and stood, watching the silent fight. As Linc noticed him, he withdrew from the Eye.

“What was that all about?” Collins asked.

“You'd never understand,” Linc answered.

“Oh? So what do you have to show for three days closed in this room?” Collins wanted to know. “What have you accomplished?”

“That will become apparent as we progress,” Linc said. “But right at this moment, we know more about the Eyes and their power than anyone else on earth.”

“What good does knowledge do?” Collins asked cockily. “Are you trying to understand them? To get to know them so you can take them to the negotiating table?”

“You're very funny,” Linc answered. “How you can be such a wit at such a time is more than I can understand.”

Collins smiled and sat down. “I'm not worried any more. While you've been shut away in here, I've been using my head, and things are coming my way.”

“That business with the tear gas and the Guard wasn't your brain work, was it?” Wes asked him.

“No. That was strictly soldiering. I told Stanley it wasn't drastic enough. Halfway measures aren't going to win this fight. Neither is staring at an Eye and giving it human qualities. Now, my plan is simple—that part is for you, Linc—and completely workable. It will finish the job in minutes.”

“Okay,” Wes was saying, “let's hear it.”

Collins set his sharp face in arrogant lines and his voice dropped a pitch as he explained. “Guns don't work. Tear gas doesn't work. Field pieces don't work. But we've been forgetting our biggest weapon. A nuclear bomb. A bomb dropped right on that stinking hole while the Eyes are inside it, and in one explosion we rid ourselves of them forever. They couldn't survive that.”

Linc was silent. There was something wrong with Collins' scheme, but he couldn't quite chase it down.

Wes said it for him. “Impossible! There are thousands of people down in that hole, Collins—thousands of innocent, helpless people. You'd get the Eyes, but what about the people?”

Collins was quick with his answer. “They've been considered. They'll have to be sacrificed. The few for the many, in this case. There are thousands now, but if they die, and the Eyes die with them, that will save millions. They'll have to be sacrificed.”

Wes leaned back, white with the idea of wholesale murder done in the name of goodness and prevention.

“Don't worry about it, Wes,” Linc said. “Collins has overlooked a major point.” He addressed his assistant now, glad to be able to pierce his bubble of egotism. “You can't detonate a bomb out there, any more than we could let the reactor go when Hendricks tried to set it off. A bomb would kill the town, the campus.”

“That has been considered, too,” Collins answered. “If we put the plan into effect—and I'm sure we will—then the area will be evacuated.”

Linc shook his head. The scheme was so full of holes that it was almost laughable. “Evacuation is ridiculous. Try it, and you won't be evacuating people out of the area, you'll be evacuating people to the Eyes. They pounce on groups. They pick them to pieces.”

“And a slow evacuation?” Collins asked.

“To be slow enough to escape the Eyes, it would take weeks. You've really fumbled the ball this time.”

Collins stood up. “Tear it apart all you like, Hosier. It still will be done. Iverson and Stanley are coming to it fast. I've got their ears now. You've wasted too much time in here. If the evacuation has to be slow, then it will be slow, but it will be done.”

“We don't have the time!” Linc was exasperated. Why did he have to point everything out, explain everything to men who were supposed to know? “Those Eyes want something. The devil only knows what—but they want something, and soon they're going to make a new move.”

“And what are you going to do about it? Have you accomplished anything here?”

“All right, tell me what your investigation has discovered. Do you know what the Eyes are? Where they come from? If there will be more coming? Or what they do with the people they take away?”

“If we can destroy them, who cares where they come from, or why? And if more appear, we'll destroy them, too. As for the people Wes is so worried about, there is a theory going around that there aren't any people down in that hole.”

“We've seen them go in,” Wes countered.

“But not come out,” Collins said. “How many could get in that hole? How much room is there in it? It would be overflowing by now, if they were still there.”

“Then where does the current theory say they are?” Linc was biting.

Collins' eyes pierced into his, and one word hissed, out between his lips: “Eaten!”

Wes whirled away to stare out of the window. Linc recoiled, too, at the memory of Myers walking from the lab. Eaten? He had never considered it. But it was a possibility. Eaten. Myers and the rest. No.

“You're crazy,” he spat at Collins. “This Eye, here in this cage—it hasn't taken food of any kind. And it hasn't grown weak without it.”

“Have you offered it anything?” Collins was snide.

Linc couldn't answer that, because he hadn't offered it anything. He hadn't even considered it. What would an Eye eat? The whole subject was fantastic and revolting. How would an Eye eat?

Collins was chuckling at his consternation. “I've finally stumped you, haven't I?” he said to Linc. “Finally. I knew it could be done.” He turned for the door, glancing again at the Eye in the cage. “You two stay here and play with your pet. Stanley and Iverson and I will fight the battle.”

The door slammed behind him, and Linc spat out a curse. Yet, being honest, he had to consider what Collins had said and consider it seriously. The one point—the dimension of the hole and the number of people who had gone into it—made it necessary to consider. Where were those people? Why weren't they overflowing the black pit inside the woods?

CHAPTER TEN

It wasn't even a full day before the news seeped through the lab that Collins' plan had been approved and set in motion. Evacuation was started—slow evacuation that sent cars out on the roads one at a time. How long it would take to complete, Linc couldn't guess, but the idea of a bomb falling on the people trapped in the hole spurred him to find some alternative action.

Wes came back from the cafeteria with four sandwiches and two steaming coffees. He plunked them on the desk, gave a peevish glance at the Eye, which they never covered any more, and let loose.

“You were right, Linc. Four hundred yards apart—they space the evacuating cars four hundred yards apart—and the people go out, hopeful for the first time in days, and the Eyes pick them off one by one.”

“The single cars?” Linc asked.

“Enough singles finally make a group, and they're clever, Linc. A car goes down the road, swerves off into the ditch, and the people get out, zombie-style. Another car comes, and it repeats the action. When the Eyes have a group gathered, they lead them off to the hole. This time they were clever enough to force the drivers off the road, to avoid the traffic jams that would stop the flow of people coming to them.”

“The evacuation has been called off, of course.”

“Not yet! People are still going out, and still-being taken. I don't know what the brass is thinking of. I tried to talk to Iverson. He wouldn't listen. And Stanley—this lab has split wide-open, taken two sides, and Stanley is with Collins. That puts the weight there. What are we going to do now?” Wes was almost frantic. The picture of hopeful people being sent out to horror, and then ultimately bombed to nothingness was too much for him to stomach. “We've got to show Iverson that Collins is wrong.”

“There's only one possible way. We'll use the time it takes them to come to their senses to prove what's going on in that hole. If someone could actually find out what is down there, what goes on in that pit, the bomb business could be decided—one way or the other. We've got to get into that hole, and get out again with a report. That's the only way.”

Wes didn't doubt it for a moment. He only doubted the possibility of doing it. “Half of the scouts who go out to watch the place don't even make it back, Linc. The National Guard has the hole ringed with men, and some of them get taken.”

“You sound discouraged,” Linc chided, “and you have no right to be. Not now. Our work has finally paid off. You and I can do what no other men have a chance of doing. Wes, what would it take to go into that hole and come back out?”

“Guts,” Wes said. “And not even guts would do it. Only a free mind. You go in hypnotized and come out hypnotized, like Hendricks, so guts wouldn't do you an iota of good.”

“If you're hypnotized. We've learned not to be. Don't you see? We can stand against the Eyes. We've done it right here in this room. We could go down into that hole, have a look around, and come back out, free agents. It would take more than we've managed so far, a lot of fighting against the hypnosis, but it could be done.”

“The Eyes would spot us among their zombies.”

“Not if we walked like zombies. Who would see a zombie among zombies? We go out on the road, drive our car into the ditch, and walk away like the rest of the people do. Then, fighting against the hypnosis—fighting like hell—we get ourselves into that hole and out again.”

Wes pursed his lips. “You keep saying ‘we.' It shouldn't be ‘we.' Only one of us should try it, so that if he fails, the other will be left. If we're so unique, Linc, then one of us has to be preserved.”

“But the idea as a whole—what do you think?”

“I think it's good. It's smart, and most importantly, it's human. I'd do anything to save those poor wretches from evaporation in an A-bomb.”

“Then it only remains to decide which one of us will go.”

“Let me.” Wes was quick with the decision. “I don't kid myself that I'm as necessary as you are. If I'm lost, you'll still be here to think up something else. If you were lost, I'd founder.”

“Those aren't good enough reasons, Wes. The one of us who is most able should go. And I think that's me. I've stood out against the Eye for forty-five minutes. You've only managed a half-hour.”

“But this is different. This is all or nothing. A man musters extra strength in this land of situation.”

Linc didn't want to argue. Not about this—not about life and death. He knew he was best qualified. He had to go. But he postponed the decision.

“Let's wait a while to decide. Let's think about it without hurry. All right?”

Wes nodded his assent.

“Then,” Linc added, “I'm going home. If it's me, I need some rest. I can use the change of scene and the quiet anyway.”

“Go ahead. Just be sure to feed Ichabod. I put his plate in the refrigerator. Let it warm up before you give it to him.”

“He'll tell me what to do,” Linc smiled. “I'll be back by four. Maybe earlier. Think this over carefully, Wes. Don't let your nerves and your conscience get the better of your judgment.”

* * * *

Linc's key opened the front door, and he was surprised that Ichabod didn't come bounding to meet him. He made his way to the kitchen, and discovered the reason. Kelly was there, puttering, doing up their breakfast dishes, and the dog was content in her company. His plate was on the floor, already empty.

“Hi,” Kelly called. “Are you alone?”

“Wes stayed at the lab.”

“I should have known. If he had come, Ichabod would have deserted me. He's a loyal little devil.”

“How did you get in?” Linc asked.

“Wes gave me a key.”

Linc cleared his throat meaningfully, softening it with a grin.

“No,” Kelly laughed. “It was just that I was afraid, and so he gave me the key. My apartment seems spookier than this house. Maybe because Ichabod's here; or maybe because there are people so close to me there. Isn't it funny? It used to be that I felt secure knowing there were people in the rooms below me. Now I'm more afraid of the people than I am of the Eyes.”

“That will soon change.”

“I know,” she said. “I'm on the list for evacuation in five days. I can't wait to get out. When are you scheduled?”

“Never. No one's getting away. The Eyes are capturing every evacuee.”

“Oh, no!” Kelly's reaction was more than he had expected. She went pale, and clutched the sink. “Then we just have to stay here and hide from each other forever?”

“Not that either. Pour that coffee you're brewing and I'll tell you about it.”

She did as he said silently. When she was seated across from him, and the coffee was creamed and cooling, he laid the plan out. She listened, but didn't comprehend the good of it, only the danger.

“Which one of you is going?” she asked.

“I am.”

“No. It shouldn't be you. Wes wants to go—let him.”

“I can't, Kelly. He's not as well prepared.”

“That's just your egotism showing. You never think anyone else can do the job as well as you. I don't think I could stand it, Linc—if you didn't come back.”

“Come on, Kelly,” he scoffed. “This concern isn't flattering to you. You haven't made a choice between Wes and me. It couldn't matter to you which of us went.”

“You never give me credit, do you? Maybe the last days have changed things for me. Maybe I have made a choice. This danger, Linc, changes a woman. She suddenly finds that she does need someone, and things come into focus, and she knows who that someone is.”

“Just by the magic formula of how well he can protect her?”

“Is that wrong? Does it matter what yardstick I used, just so long as I used it and you were the one to measure up?”

There was the ring of dishonesty about what she said, and Linc hated himself for hearing it. Kelly was beautiful at this moment, with her green eyes worried, her hand pleading with him. Two weeks before, he could have asked for nothing else from her. Now he wondered.

“Linc, you love me. You've never said it, but I know. I've been a fool to keep you distant—a fool to resist. I'm not resisting any more.” She came around to his side of the table, and she was tall and slim as he looked up at her. “Or,” she murmured, “are you just a man who likes the chase, and who backs off after he has won?”

He saw through her game. She was turning on the sex. She had never used it on him before, except teasingly; and although he knew this entire sequence was deliberate, he didn't care.

He stood and drew her against him, and she didn't pull away. She came into his arms, pliant and past flirtation. He kissed her, and she answered it, and it was sweet—as sweet as he imagined it would be in the days when he had waited for her to answer him and not simply allow his kisses.

“Let Wes go,” she whispered. “Don't tear yourself away from me, now that we've found each other.”

“But, Kelly—”

Her fingers came up to quiver against his lips and halt the protest. “Wes wants to go, Linc. He's just as capable as you are. If you'd be honest with yourself, you'd know it. Let him do this, if it means so much to him. And you stay here with me, if I mean anything to you.”

She was making sense. Even over the emotions the touch of her raised in him, he knew she was making sense. Wes was just about as capable as he was. And Wes had a mission. A man with a mission always had the better chance of winning. If he himself went, he would be torn—part of him staying with Kelly. Wes had nothing to hinder him—only a humanitarian mission to push him forward.

There was no room for conscience with Kelly in his arms. He had waited too long for her to be there. When he let himself realize it, he rode high on the crest of victory. Wes was a rival no longer, but a man who wanted with all his soul to undertake the zombie trip into the lair of the Eyes and rescue humanity. He couldn't deny Wes what Wes wanted most in the world. Not when what he wanted most is the world was just now being given to him. He would let Wes decide. If Wes still wanted to go, Wes would go.

“I hope,” he whispered to her, “you haven't discovered my weak spot, and are playing on it.”

“You don't have a weak spot, darling.”

Ichabod was snuffing around their feet, but Linc stopped hearing, as Kelly's mouth tilted upward, waiting for his again. He met her mouth with his own, and the decision was made.

* * * *

At three-thirty, a car pulled into the drive. Wes got out of it. He was anxious, his nerves rawly showing for the first time since Linc had known him. “I simply couldn't wait any longer,” he explained, stemming the eager yaps of Ichabod. “We can't put this action off, Linc. All the time we spend choosing up sides allows more people to be taken into that hole—put more there for Collins to destroy.”

“I know,” Linc answered. “That's been on my mind, too.”

“Then what have you decided? Which one of us is going?”

Kelly's eyes flashed to Linc, and he shifted. “It's not my decision alone, you know, Wes. It's up to both of us.”

“But, knowing you, you'll make it,” Wes grinned.

“And you? Have you thought about it further? Have you really thought it out?”

“All afternoon. But I couldn't do much thinking through my impatience. We've got to get moving. I still want to go, if that's what you're getting at. After you left the lab, I went up against the Eye all by myself. I fought it for thirty-five minutes before I had to quit—and then I quit of my own accord. That was intense concentration, face to face. This job won't be that way. It will be an evasion tactic.”

“It won't be any picnic.” Linc couldn't bring himself to voice his decision yet.

“Who expects a picnic?” Wes came forward two steps. “Please Linc. Don't waste any more time. Who is it to be?” Kelly's taut gaze was on him again, and he answered, “If you want it this badly, Wes, what can I say?”

“You mean you'll let me be the first to go?”

Linc nodded, strongly aware that he might be making the wrong choice. “You can go. I'll play backstop this time.” Wes grasped his arms, smiling and flushed. “I never once believed you'd agree. Now that it's settled, I'm going to get started right away—before dark. I can't wait through another night. By the way, I didn't mention a word to Iverson or anybody else. Should we notify them?”

“No. If we ask for permission, we'll only get more arguments. We'll go this one alone.”

“That's what I thought, too. Well—” Wes swiveled awkwardly in the center of the floor—“I may as well get going.”

“Right now?” Kelly was startled.

“I want to reach the hole before dark.”

“Not yet.” Linc felt a sudden need to hold his friend back. “We have to plan this out first. Set some action.”

“We did all that this morning. There's nothing to plan. I drive out, pose as a zombie, go to the hole, and from there on, planning won't help me anyway. Besides, there isn't time. Iverson may call off the slow evacuation and speed things up, since the Eyes are getting the people anyway.”

“Where did you hear that news?”

“At the lab. It's all confusion out there. Rumors are flying thicker than the Eyes. So I'm going, and going now. No more arguments. Okay?”

Kelly crossed to Wes and hugged him close. “I didn't realize it would be so soon. Take care, and don't throw yourself away in the name of heroism. Turn back if you see you can't make it.”

Wes kissed her lightly on the cheek, then took Linc's hand in a strong clasp. “Let's leave it like this—I'll be back, if I can get back, by tomorrow night. That gives me plenty of leeway. So, tomorrow night, by dusk—or never. All clear?”

“Take it easy. And bring back what we need—friend.”