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diff --git a/30438-h/30438-h.htm b/30438-h/30438-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6449dce --- /dev/null +++ b/30438-h/30438-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,730 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Eyes Have It, by James McKimmey, Jr. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + + p {margin-top: .75em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: .75em;} + h1,h2 {text-align: left;} + h2 {font-weight: normal;} + .hd1 {text-align: center; margin-top: 2em;} + hr {width: 45%; margin: 2em auto; visibility: hidden;} + body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .figc {margin: 0 auto 2em; width: 600px;} + img {border: none;} + a:link,a:visited {text-decoration: none;} + p.cap:first-letter {float: left; margin-right: .05em; padding-top: .05em; font-size: 300%; line-height: .8em; width: auto;} + .dcap {text-transform: uppercase;} + .figt {float: left; clear: left; margin: 15px; padding: 0; width: 287px;} + .trn {border: solid 1px; margin: 3em 15%; min-height: 230px;} + .trn p {margin: 15px;} + .bk1 {margin-left: 150px;} + + </style> + </head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30438 ***</div> + +<div class="figc"><img src="images/001.png" width="600" height="514" alt="" title="" /> + +<div class="bk1"><p><big><i>Daylight sometimes hides secrets that darkness +will reveal—the Martian's glowing eyes, for instance. +But darkness has other dangers....</i></big></p> + +<h1>THE EYES HAVE IT</h1> + +<h2>By James McKimmey, Jr.</h2> + +<p><small>Illustrated by Paul Orban</small></p></div></div> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">Joseph Heidel</span> looked slowly +around the dinner table at +the five men, hiding his examination +by a thin screen of smoke from +his cigar. He was a large man with +thick blond-gray hair cut close to +his head. In three more months he +would be fifty-two, but his face and +body had the vital look of a man +fifteen years younger. He was the +President of the Superior Council, +and he had been in that post—the +highest post on the occupied planet +of Mars—four of the six years he +had lived here. As his eyes flicked +from one face to another his fingers +unconsciously tapped the table, +making a sound like a miniature +drum roll.</p> + +<p>One. Two. Three. Four. Five. +Five top officials, selected, tested, +screened on Earth to form the +nucleus of governmental rule on +Mars.</p> + +<p>Heidel's bright narrow eyes +flicked, his fingers drummed. +Which one? Who was the imposter, +the ringer? Who was the Martian?</p> + +<p>Sadler's dry voice cut through the +silence: "This is not just an ordinary +meeting then, Mr. President?"</p> + +<p>Heidel's cigar came up and was +clamped between his teeth. He +stared into Sadler's eyes. "No, Sadler, +it isn't. This is a very special +meeting." He grinned around the +cigar. "This is where we take +the clothes off the sheep and find +the wolf."</p> + +<p>Heidel watched the five faces. +Sadler, Meehan, Locke, Forbes, +Clarke. One of them. Which one?</p> + +<p>"I'm a little thick tonight," said +Harry Locke. "I didn't follow what +you meant."</p> + +<p>"No, no, of course not," Heidel +said, still grinning. "I'll explain it." +He could feel himself alive at that +moment, every nerve singing, every +muscle toned. His brain was quick +and his tongue rolled the words out +smoothly. This was the kind of +situation Heidel handled best. A +tense, dramatic situation, full of atmosphere +and suspense.</p> + +<p>"Here it is," Heidel continued, +"simply and briefly." He touched +the cigar against an ash tray, watching +with slitted shining eyes while +the ashes spilled away from the +glowing tip. He bent forward suddenly. +"We have an imposter +among us, gentlemen. A spy."</p> + +<p>He waited, holding himself tense +against the table, letting the sting +of his words have their effect. Then +he leaned back, carefully. "And tonight +I am going to expose this imposter. +Right here, at this table." +He searched the faces again, looking +for a tell-tale twitch of a muscle, +a movement of a hand, a shading +in the look of an eye.</p> + +<p>There were only Sadler, Meehan, +Locke, Forbes, Clarke, looking like +themselves, quizzical, polite, respecting.</p> + +<p>"One of us, you say," Clarke said +noncommittally, his phrase neither +a question nor a positive statement.</p> + +<p>"That is true," said Heidel.</p> + +<p>"Bit of a situation at that," said +Forbes, letting a faint smile touch +his lips.</p> + +<p>"Understatement, Forbes," Heidel +said. "Understatement."</p> + +<p>"Didn't mean to sound capricious," +Forbes said, his smile gone.</p> + +<p>"Of course not," Heidel said.</p> + +<p>Edward Clarke cleared his +throat. "May I ask, sir, how this +was discovered and how it was narrowed +down to the Superior Council?"</p> + +<p>"Surely," Heidel said crisply. +"No need to go into the troubles +we've been having. You know all +about that. But how these troubles +originated is the important thing. +Do you remember the missionary +affair?"</p> + +<p>"When we were going to convert +the Eastern industrial section?"</p> + +<p>"That's right," Heidel said, remembering. +"Horrible massacre."</p> + +<p>"Bloody," agreed John Meehan.</p> + +<p>"Sixty-seven missionaries lost," +Heidel said.</p> + +<p>"I remember the Martian note +of apology," Forbes said. "'We +have worshipped our own God for +two-hundred thousand years. We +would prefer to continue. Thank +you.' Blinking nerve, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Neither here nor there," Heidel +said abruptly. "The point is that no +one <i>knew</i> those sixty-seven men +were missionaries except myself and +you five men."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">Heidel watched</span> the faces +in front of him. "One case," +he said. "Here's another. Do you +recall when we outlawed the free +selection system?"</p> + +<p>"Another bloody one," said Sadler.</p> + +<p>"Forty-eight victims in that +case," Heidel said. "Forty-eight +honorable colonists, sanctioned by +us to legally marry any couple on +the planet, and sent out over the +country to abolish the horrible free-love +situation."</p> + +<p>"Forty-eight justices of the peace +dead as pickerels," Forbes said.</p> + +<p>"Do you happen to remember +<i>that</i> note of apology?" Heidel +asked, a slight edge in his voice. +He examined Forbes' eyes.</p> + +<p>"Matter of fact, yes," said Forbes, +returning Heidel's stare steadily. +"'You love your way, we'll love +ours.' Terribly caustic, what?"</p> + +<p>"Terribly," said Heidel. "Although +that too is neither here nor +there. The point again, no one except +the six of us right here knew +what those forty-eight men were +sent out to do."</p> + +<p>Heidel straightened in his chair. +The slow grating voice of Forbes +had taken some of the sharpness +out of the situation. He wanted to +hold their attention minutely, so +that when he was ready, the dramatics +of his action would be tense +and telling.</p> + +<p>"There is no use," he said, "in +going into the details of the other +incidents. You remember them. +When we tried to install a free +press, the Sensible Art galleries, I-Am-A-Martian Day, +wrestling, and +all the rest."</p> + +<p>"I remember the wrestling business +awfully well," said Forbes. +"Martians drove a wrestler through +the street in a yellow jetmobile. +Had flowers around his neck and a +crown on his head. He was dead, of +course. Stuffed, I think...."</p> + +<p>"All right," snapped Heidel. +"Each one of our efforts to offer +these people a chance to benefit +from our culture was snapped off +at the bud. And only a leak in the +Superior Council could have caused +it. It is a simple matter of deduction. +There is one of us, here tonight, +who is responsible. And I am +going to expose him." Heidel's +voice was a low vibrant sound that +echoed in the large dining room.</p> + +<p>The five men waited. Forbes, his +long arms crossed. Sadler, his eyes +on his fingernails. Meehan, blinking +placidly. Clarke, twirling his +thumbs. Locke, examining his cigarette.</p> + +<p>"Kessit!" Heidel called.</p> + +<p>A gray-haired man in a black +butler's coat appeared.</p> + +<p>"We'll have our wine now," +Heidel said. There was a slight +quirk in his mouth, so that his teeth +showed between his lips. The butler +moved methodically from place to +place, pouring wine from a silver +decanter.</p> + +<p>"Now then, Kessit," Heidel said, +when the butler had finished, +"would you be kind enough to fetch +me that little pistol from the mantel +over there?" He smiled outwardly +this time. The situation was +right again; he was handling things, +inch by inch, without interruption.</p> + +<p>He took the gun from the old +man's hands. "One thing +more, Kessit. Would you please +light the candles on the table and +turn out the rest of the lights in +the room. I've always been a romanticist," +Heidel said, smiling +around the table. "Candlelight with +my wine."</p> + +<p>"Oh, excellent," said Locke soberly.</p> + +<p>"Quite," said Forbes.</p> + +<p>Heidel nodded and waited +while the butler lit the candles and +snapped off the overhead lights. +The yellow flames wavered on the +table as the door closed gently behind +the butler.</p> + +<p>"Now, then," Heidel said, feeling +the tingling in his nerves. "This, +gentlemen, is a replica of an antique +of the twentieth century. A +working replica, I might add. It +was called a P-38, if my memory +serves me." He held the pistol up +so that the candlelight reflected +against the glistening black handle +and the blue barrel.</p> + +<p>There was a polite murmur as +the five men stretched forward to +look at the gun in Heidel's hands.</p> + +<p>"Crude," Sadler said.</p> + +<p>"But devilish-looking," Forbes +added.</p> + +<p>"My hobby," Heidel said. "I +would like to add that not only do +I collect these small arms, but I am +very adept at using them. Something +I will demonstrate to you +very shortly," he added, grinning.</p> + +<p>"Say now," nodded Meehan.</p> + +<p>"That should be jolly," Forbes +said, laughing courteously.</p> + +<p>"I believe it will at that," Heidel +said. "Now if you will notice, gentlemen," +he said touching the clip +ejector of the pistol and watching +the black magazine slip out into his +other hand. "I have but five cartridges +in the clip. Just five. You +see?"</p> + +<p>They all bent forward, blinking.</p> + +<p>"Good," said Heidel, shoving the +clip back into the grip of the gun. +He couldn't keep his lips from curling +in his excitement, but his hands +were as steady as though his nerves +had turned to ice.</p> + +<p>The five men leaned back in +their chairs.</p> + +<p>"Now then, Meehan," he said to +the man at the opposite end of the +table. "Would you mind moving +over to your left, so that the end of +the table is clear?"</p> + +<p>"Oh?" said Meehan. "Yes, of +course." He grinned at the others, +and there was a ripple of amusement +as Meehan slid his chair to +the left.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Heidel. "All pretty +foolish-looking, perhaps. But it +won't be in a few minutes when I +discover the bastard of a Martian +who's in this group, I'll tell you +that!" His voice rose and rang in +the room, and he brought the glistening +pistol down with a crack +against the table.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">There was</span> dead silence and +Heidel found his smile again. +"All right, now I'll explain a bit +further. Before Dr. Kingly, the head +of our laboratory, died a few days +ago, he made a very peculiar discovery. +As you know, there has been +no evidence to indicate that the +Martian is any different, physically, +from the Earthman. Not until Dr. +Kingly made his discovery, that is."</p> + +<p>Heidel looked from face to face. +"This is how it happened," he went +on. "Dr. Kingly ..."</p> + +<p>He paused and glanced about in +false surprise. "I beg your pardon, +gentlemen. We might as well be enjoying +our wine. Excellent port. +Very old, I believe. Shall we?" he +asked, raising his glass.</p> + +<p>Five other glasses shimmered in +the candlelight.</p> + +<p>"Let us, ah, toast success to the +unveiling of the rotten Martian +who sits among us, shall we?" +Heidel's smile glinted and he drank +a quarter of his glass.</p> + +<p>The five glasses tipped and were +returned to the table. Again there +was silence as the men waited.</p> + +<p>"To get back," Heidel said, listening +with excitement to his own +voice. "Dr. Kingly, in the process +of an autopsy on a derelict Martian, +made a rather startling discovery ..."</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon," Forbes +said. "Did you say autopsy?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Heidel. "We've done +this frequently. Not according to +base orders, you understand." He +winked. "But a little infraction now +and then is necessary."</p> + +<p>"I see," said Forbes. "I just didn't +know about that."</p> + +<p>"No, you didn't, did you?" said +Heidel, looking at Forbes closely. +"At any rate, Dr. Kingly had developed +in his work a preserving +solution which he used in such +instances, thereby prolonging the +time for examination of the cadaver, +without experiencing deterioration +of the tissues. This +solution was merely injected into +the blood stream, and ..."</p> + +<p>"Sorry again, sir," Forbes said. +"But you said blood stream?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," Heidel nodded. "This +had to be done before the cadaver +was a cadaver, you see?"</p> + +<p>"I think so, yes," said Forbes, +leaning back again. "Murdered the +bastard for an autopsy, what?"</p> + +<p>Heidel's fingers closed around +the pistol. "I don't like that, +Forbes."</p> + +<p>"Terribly sorry, sir."</p> + +<p>"To get on," Heidel said finally, +his voice a cutting sound. "Dr. +Kingly had injected his solution +and then ... Well, at any rate, +when he returned to his laboratory, +it was night. His laboratory was +black as pitch—I'm trying to paint +the picture for you, gentlemen—and +the cadaver was stretched out +on a table, you see. And before Dr. +Kingly switched on the lights, he +saw the eyes of this dead Martian +glowing in the dark like a pair of +hot coals."</p> + +<p>"Weird," said Sadler, unblinking.</p> + +<p>"Ghostly," said Clarke.</p> + +<p>"The important thing," Heidel +said curtly, "is that Dr. Kingly +discovered the difference, then, +between the Martian and the +Earthman. The difference is the +eyes. The solution, you see, had +reacted chemically to the membranes +of the eyeballs, so that as it +happened they lit up like electric +lights. I won't go into what Dr. +Kingly found further, when he dissected +the eyeballs. Let it suffice to +say, the Martian eyeball is a physical +element entirely different from +our own—at least from those of five +of us, I should say."</p> + +<p>His grin gleamed. He was working +this precisely and carefully, and +it was effective. "Now, however," +he continued, "it is this <i>sixth</i> man +who is at issue right now. The fly +in the soup, shall we say. And in +just a few seconds I am going to +exterminate that fly."</p> + +<p>He picked up the pistol from the +table. "As I told you, gentlemen, I +am quite versatile with this weapon. +I am a dead shot, in other +words. And I am going to demonstrate +it to you." He glanced from +face to face.</p> + +<p>"You will notice that since Mr. +Meehan has moved, I have a clear +field across the table. I don't believe +a little lead in the woodwork +will mar the room too much, would +you say, Forbes?"</p> + +<p>Forbes sat very still. "No, I +shouldn't think so, sir."</p> + +<p>"Good. Because I am going to +snuff out each of the four candles +in the center of this table by shooting +the wick away. You follow me, +gentlemen? Locke? Meehan? Sadler?"</p> + +<p>Heads nodded.</p> + +<p>"Then perhaps you are already +ahead of me. When the last candle +is extinguished, we will have darkness, +you see. And then I think we'll +find our Martian rat. Because, as +a matter of fact," Heidel lolled his +words, "I have taken the privilege +of adding to the wine we have been +drinking Dr. Kingly's preserving solution. +Non-tasteful, non-harmful. +Except, that is, to one man in this +room."</p> + +<p>Heidel motioned his gun. "And +God rest the bastard's soul, because +if you will remember, I have five +bullets in the chamber of this pistol. +Four for the candles and one for +the brain of the sonofabitch whose +eyes light up when the last candle +goes out."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">There was</span> a steady deadly +silence while the flames of the +candles licked at the still air.</p> + +<p>"I think, however," Heidel said, +savoring the moment, "that we +should have one final toast before +we proceed." He lifted his glass. +"May the receiver of the fifth bullet +go straight to hell. I phrase that +literally, gentlemen," he said, laughing. +"Drink up!"</p> + +<p>The glasses were drained and +placed again on the table.</p> + +<p>"Watch carefully," Heidel said +and lifted the pistol. He aimed at +the first candle. The trigger was +taut against his finger, the explosion +loud in the room.</p> + +<p>"One," said Heidel.</p> + +<p>He aimed again. The explosion.</p> + +<p>"Two," he said. "Rather good, +eh?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," Sadler said.</p> + +<p>"Quite," said Forbes.</p> + +<p>"Again," said Heidel. A third +shot echoed.</p> + +<p>"Now," he said, pointing the +muzzle at the last candle. "I would +say this is it, wouldn't you, gentlemen? +And as soon as this one goes, +I'm afraid one of us is going to +find a bullet right between his goddam +sparkling eyes. Are you +ready?"</p> + +<p>He squinted one eye and looked +down the sights. He squeezed the +trigger, the room echoed and there +was blackness. Heidel held his pistol +poised over the table.</p> + +<p>Silence.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Forbes finally. +"There you have it. Surprise, +what?"</p> + +<p>Heidel balanced the pistol, feeling +his palm go suddenly moist +against the black grip, and he +looked around at the five pairs of +glowing eyes.</p> + +<p>"Bit of a shock, I should imagine," +Forbes said. "Discovering +all of us, as it were."</p> + +<p>Heidel licked his lips. "How? +<i>How</i> could you do this?"</p> + +<p>Forbes remained motionless. +"Simple as one, you know. Put men +on rockets going back to Earth in +place of returning colonists. Study. +Observe. Learn. Shift a record here +and there. Forge, change pictures, +all that sort of thing. Poor contact +between here and Earth, you +know. Not too difficult."</p> + +<p>"I'll get one of you," Heidel said, +still balancing his pistol tightly.</p> + +<p>"Well, possibly," Forbes said. +"But no more than one. You have +three guns pointed at you. We can +see you perfectly, you know, as +though it were broad daylight. One +shiver of that pistol, and you're +dead."</p> + +<p>"Why have you done this?" +Heidel said suddenly. "<i>Why?</i> +Everything that was done was for +the Martian. We tried to give you +freedom and culture, the benefit of +our knowledge...."</p> + +<p>"We didn't like your wrestlers," +Forbes said.</p> + +<p>Heidel's nostrils twitched, and +suddenly he swung the pistol. There +was a crashing explosion and then +silence.</p> + +<p>"Good," said Forbes. "I don't +think he got the last one fired."</p> + +<p>"You're all right then?" asked +Meehan, putting his gun on the +table.</p> + +<p>"Oh, quite! Rather dramatic altogether, +eh?"</p> + +<p>"Nerve tingling," Locke agreed.</p> + +<p>Forbes turned in his chair and +called, "Oh, Kessit!"</p> + +<p>The butler opened the door to +the darkened room, hesitated, and +reached for the light switch.</p> + +<p>"No, no," Forbes said, smiling. +"Never mind that. Come over here, +will you please?"</p> + +<p>The butler crossed the room +slowly.</p> + +<p>"It's all right," Forbes said. "The +president will notice nothing whatever, +Kessit. Would you mind pouring +us all another glass of wine? +I'm frightfully crazy about that +port, eh?"</p> + +<p>There was a murmur of agreeing +voices. The butler lifted the silver +decanter and filled glasses, moving +easily and surely in the darkness.</p> + +<p>"Cheers," said Forbes.</p> + +<p>"Cheers," said the others, over +the clink of glasses.</p> + +<p class="hd1">THE END</p> + +<div class="trn"><div class="figt"><a href="images/002-2.jpg"><img src="images/002-1.jpg" width="287" height="200" alt="" title="" /></a></div> + +<p><big><b>Transcriber's Note:</b></big></p> + +<p>This etext was produced from <i>If Worlds of Science Fiction</i> November 1953. +Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. +copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and +typographical errors have been corrected without note.</p></div> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30438 ***</div> +</body> +</html> |