Read Online Assassins Have Starry Eyes by Donald Hamilton - Free Book Online Page A

simple reaction involving cellulose and oxygen with a very complex reaction involving—”
    “Involving the earth itself.” He swung around to face me. “You don’t know why it stopped this time, do you? Or what it’s going to do next time?”
    I said, “All I know is that we need to know more about it.”
    “All I know,” he said, “is that we know too much about it already. So I’m quitting. Mrs. Bates didn’t bring up her boy to set the world on fire… Greg, fly out there. Go take a look at it. It’s hard and kind of slick and brown, except for places that have bubbles like that Mexican glass. Nothing else as far as you can see: no trees, no grass, not even any rocks. Just this hard, shiny, smoking stuff, clear to the horizon. You can stand there and think about what might have happened if it hadn’t stopped. Just a dead glass ball, spinning through space like a damn Christmas ornament.”
    I said, “Jack, if a thing is in the realm of possible human knowledge, it’s going to get itself discovered sooner or later, whether the human race is ready for it or not.”
    He said, “I’ve heard that argument. And the one about do we want the Russians to get it first. I don’t want anybody to get it. But one guy is not going to get it for sure, and that’s me. I can’t stop your going ahead with it, or the Russians going ahead with it, or anybody else who likes to tinker with the celestial works. But I don’t have to be the one to discover it. I don’t have to have it on my conscience.”
    I said, “Well, good luck, kid. I hope you and your conscience have lots and lots of fun.”
    I got up and walked across the room and into the hall without looking back. I retrieved my jacket and my wife and got out of there. The cold night air hit me outside the door. I stopped to zip the jacket up, and regarded the jeep station wagon in the drive with an envious eye. That’s my idea of what a vehicle should look like, instead of a chrome-plated thunderbolt on wheels. He even had a winch on the front so that if he got stuck he could run the cable to a tree and haul himself out. The only trouble with that idea is the scarcity of trees in most parts of the country where they hunt uranium.
    Natalie said, “Can you tell me what it’s all about?”
    “Jack’s quitting,” I said.
    “Why?”
    “He’s scared, I guess,” I said. “He’s got an attack of conscience, like old man Fischer. He wants us to leave it to God.”
    She hesitated; then she said, “Darling, he could be right.”
    I grinned and took her arm. “You’re a big help,” I said. “Besides, what makes you think God wants to be bothered? After all, it’s not much of a planet. He’s got lots bigger ones.”

EIGHT
     
    I AWOKE WITH a slight headache in a bed that seemed momentarily unfamiliar to me; and the ceiling above me was white stucco instead of the blue I was accustomed to seeing in the mornings. I don’t care for stucco walls and ceilings, but when you’ve got them there isn’t a hell of a lot you can do about them. While I was orienting myself and recalling the events of the night, the door opened and Natalie came in, bearing a tray.
    “Are you awake, darling?” she asked.
    “Uh-huh,” I said, sitting up in the big double bed that had no head or foot. “What time is it, anyway?”
    “Almost eleven. Thursday.”
    She set the tray on the dresser and came over. She was fully dressed in her favorite around-the-house costume, which consisted of gray flannel Bermuda shorts, a man’s striped shirt, knee-length wool socks, and nicely polished loafers. The logic of baring your legs with shorts only to cover them again with long socks escapes me. Her dark hair was smooth and shining, and her face had a scrubbed and glowing look. If I had remembered nothing at all about what had happened after we got home, I would have known by looking at her: sex always seemed to agree with her.
    She bent down to kiss me lightly, and grinned. “Well,” she