By the time the earless one returned, wide-eyed and breathless, Jeff
had stepped away from the table for a cigarette. The Assassin was
moaning gently in the short time of consciousness the young doctor had
planned for him between rounds. It was important that the old man be
conscious. To make sure, Jeff had given him a hypo of a far different
action than the first.
"Gone," The Assassin echoed his follower's words.
As he struggled feebly against his straps, the earless one managed
to gasp that an agent of Konrad's had bought them just a short time
before, all eleven pair.
Jeff swore appropriately.
"Let him up," hissed the earless one, "You Earthmen are all in this
together."
"Don't stand there, you fool," Jeff shouted theatrically. "Konrad is in
this alone. He could not permit the power of an Assassin with sight. Go
to him. Take back those eyes."
"Quickly," The Assassin echoed.
"But you must go too," Jeff exclaimed as he unfastened the old man from
the table. "Only you can lead them against such a one as Konrad. Taen,
give me those bandages. Great Assassin, here I give you an injection to
give you strength. And Taen will accompany you."
While his followers helped the old man into his robes, the young doctor
drew Taen aside.
"Take a robe from one of these men so that you will not be recognized.
You have said you understood these people, how to handle them. Now is
your chance to show me, for our lives, yours included, depend on it.
All you have to do is plant the proper suggestions in their minds. They
will force you to do the rest." He handed Taen a satchel of surgical
tools and a small tubular freezer, and he explained in detailed steps
what he had in mind.
Finally Taen nodded, his eyes fierce with excitement. "I understand,
sire. There are moments when men will agree to anything."
"Let him suggest it himself. Just plant the thought there."
Taen patted the satchel and followed the motley crowd of mountain men
out into the morning.
Pacing the empty room, Jeff lit another cigarette, threw it away and
lit another. Maybe he should have gone himself? But he would have been
recognized. Then it would be the Security Guards--
"Somebody shot a hole in my wall," a small voice announced.
Jeff surprised himself with laughter. It seemed like everybody was out
to get them.
"Shall I plug it with my finger, dimples?"
She bluffed as if to spill the coffee on him.
"No sugar this time, sugar." He stepped quickly to the window and
fitted his eye between the drawn curtains, but the siege apparently
had turned into a pursuit of the mountain men for the street was empty
except for a Security Guard curled in a pool that reflected the redness
of the morning sun. The mountain men could take care of themselves,
handicaps or no. They had better. His life and Kit's depended on it. It
would be ironic if The Assassin were killed.
"What are you staring at?"
"Just ogling a jungle Venus." The strain of the operation had lifted
with such sudden relief that he could take nothing seriously. Even the
thousand things that could go wrong did not weigh upon him as he sipped
the scalding coffee. It was the moment between pains.
"I keyholed the operation even though Garth got angry. You were
wonderful, hubby. At least I guess you were. But isn't that old
murderer apt to die of shock."
"If he does that, and his men come back here, Garth will take you out
of the window. But he's a tough old devil, have to be to last this
long." He explained that Konrad had bought all the eyes, cauterizing
the lie with scalding coffee. His nerves were beginning to hum again.
This was dirty business, he thought, as he watched her over the coffee
cup, memorizing the tilt of her head, the gloss of her eyelids, the
gentle S-curve of hair down her cheek with a little roll-over where it
touched her shoulder; but nobody was going to hurt Kit.
He closed his eyes, saw her as he first saw her, bright with silk,
twirling beneath the masks at the Festival Ball. But the man with broad
shoulders who bent her back and whispered in her hair, then looked up
for all the world to see his pride, was Konrad. Even after his threats,
she had said very little against him. Perhaps she had a vaguely guilty
feeling too. People were the way they were. Konrad was a prime example.
When you pressed the proper buttons they did what they were set to do.
Could you blame such a man as Konrad? He shivered and prayed Kit would
never learn what was happening to Konrad just then.
When the next rocket came in two months, they'd be on it. She'd be
happier if she never knew.
"It's awfully quiet Jeff."
"Not for long."
* * * * *
The Assassin's men returned in comparative silence. Bloodsoaked
and weary, they filed in and laid the old man upon the table.
Immediately, Jeff prepared another hypo, for The Assassin was white
and shallow-breathing from shock. It would be better to postpone the
last phase of the operation, but Taen was already opening the freezing
cylinder to show him their success.
The earless man set a moist package on the floor beneath the table.
"Guards fought like women," he smiled. "We can keep them off till
you're done."
Jeff looked around. Kit had already left the room. Quickly he stripped
off the bandages as Taen raised his hands to the germicidal light, then
moved rather clumsily to assist.
"What happened?" Jeff hissed from the corner of his mouth.
Taen failed to answer. Jeff cursed softly. Without knowing what had
passed between Konrad and The Assassin, how was he to act?
With an unsteady hand that could ruin the operation, Taen jabbed the
suction hose at the orbital cavity. As Jeff turned to him the mountain
man fell heavily against the table, reeled back with an apologetic
expression on his oddly pale face and sat down with a thud on the floor.
"What's the matter, you hurt?"
The mountain man's jaw opened and closed like that of a stranded fish.
His eyes bulged and perspiration beaded his brow but words would not
come.
The earless man squatted beside them. "Perhaps when he was cutting out
the eyes he stayed too long in the room where the gas was."
"What kind of gas?"
"I don't know the names of gases."
"Dammit, what did it smell like? Salty? Stinging?"
"No, like the flower with the red and white petals. Leave him alone,"
the young man's voice rose in sudden authority. "You haven't time for
him. Put in the eyes."
But Jeff hastened to the medicine cabinet and took out an emetic and a
heart stimulant. He knew that gas.
"Get to work on the master, I said." The earless one's voice rose a
notch. "Quick or I shall kill you." He brought the large muzzle of his
sten gun in line with Jeff's eyes.
"And The Assassin will die on the table," the doctor retorted as he
pried open Taen's mouth.
"Garth," he shouted as he injected the heart stimulant into the now
retching Taen.
When the jungle man came in, Jeff said, "Put him to bed. I'll be in
to see him in a little while. You, throw away that sten gun and stick
your hands close to that light. You're going to assist me with the
operation."
"Me?" shrilled the young man.
"Yes. Turn the palms of your hands to the light. If you don't follow
my directions, if you make the slightest mistake, you will have killed
your master." Jeff examined the eyes in the solution. A neat job of
removal, he thought. Plenty of surrounding meat to fill in the spaces.
The one way to play this was as if the plan had worked. "Come here,
stupid, let me show you the correct way to hold the hose."
As he pruned unnecessary tissue from the right eye, and injected the
cell-stimulating pro-op into the six loosely hanging muscles that would
turn it, Jeff tried to find out, without giving his plan away, what
had passed between The Assassin and Konrad, presuming that they found
Konrad. But the earless one was so nervous his replies didn't make
sense.
V
A grenade exploded outside, followed by a moaning voice. A mountain
man burst into the operating room. "We can't hold them much longer.
They must have finished the boys at the Coliseum because now there are
hundreds of them. They're shooting at the house down the block. Pretty
soon they'll figure out this is the house. Hurry it up."
Deliberately Jeff forgot the outside world and concentrated on the
operation. With steady hands he drew out the end of the optic nerve
like a small white worm and brought it close to the cross street of
nerves in the old man's forehead, the optic chiasma. Wielding the high
frequency sound nozzle with more speed than care, he eroded plenty
of working area from the frontal bone. If he lived, this old man's
forehead would be a veritable silver mine.
Nudging the earless one to use the suction hose so he could see what
he was doing, Jeff slid the eye closer into its socket. He cranked
down the reflection viewer and focused its rays through the eyeball.
Now he had to work down through the cut between eye and forebrain and
the going, even with the help of the semi-robot's steady hand, was
uncertain. He didn't bother too much with the muscles, just sewed them
in and injected the growth catalyst. The arteries he sealed neatly
together, squinting through the micro of the reflection viewer and
focusing tediously on each one. A lot of blood was leaking down the
old man's cheek though. If Taen were there to help he'd order a small
transfusion.
As he worked on the second eye, The Assassin grew paler. Jeff gave him
a hypo.
It was then that he saw what he should have seen all along--the golden
necklace was gone.
An honest old devil, he thought. Probably left it on Konrad's chest, I
hope. Unless he dropped it somewhere, the deal must be cancelled. Kit's
safe--unless the old devil dies on me or can't see.
He stopped worrying about that and concentrated on making The Assassin
see.
When it was over Jeff grinned with more confidence than he felt. The
young man sat down on the floor with his head lowered between his
knees. The Assassin began to groan very faintly. A grenade exploded
against the side of the house.
Fumbling in his pants pocket for a match, Jeff addressed the few
assassins that remained. "Better get him out of here right away."
"But how do we know it wasn't a trick? How do we know he can see?" A
short, weary-faced mountain man leaned against the door jamb, a skar
cradled under his arm. His voice had the unpleasant sound of the one
The Assassin said was to be successor. "He sees or you die."
"Come here." Jeff raised one of the eyelids. As he shadowed the staring
eye with his hand the pupil enlarged perceptibly.
"But can he see out of it?"
"It may be some days before he can even distinguish light from
darkness," Jeff replied cautiously.
With luck the old man might be able to do that now but there was no use
sticking his neck out with his and Kit's lives depending on it.
"Then you are coming with us."
As Jeff opened his mouth to protest, the old man groaned loudly, then
croaked: "The sky so blue. My crags, my people, the bright and glorious
sun." He strained toward the germicidal light.