Daylight sometimes hides secrets that darknesswill reveal—the Martian's glowing eyes, for instance.But darkness has other dangers....
THE EYES HAVE IT
By James McKimmey, Jr.
Illustrated by Paul Orban
Joseph Heidel looked slowlyaround the dinner table atthe five men, hiding his examinationby a thin screen of smoke fromhis cigar. He was a large man withthick blond-gray hair cut close tohis head. In three more months hewould be fifty-two, but his face andbody had the vital look of a manfifteen years younger. He was thePresident of the Superior Council,and he had been in that post—thehighest post on the occupied planetof Mars—four of the six years hehad lived here. As his eyes flickedfrom one face to another his fingersunconsciously tapped the table,making a sound like a miniaturedrum roll.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five.Five top officials, selected, tested,screened on Earth to form thenucleus of governmental rule onMars.
Heidel's bright narrow eyesflicked, his fingers drummed.Which one? Who was the imposter,the ringer? Who was the Martian?
Sadler's dry voice cut through thesilence: "This is not just an ordinarymeeting then, Mr. President?"
Heidel's cigar came up and wasclamped between his teeth. Hestared into Sadler's eyes. "No, Sadler,it isn't. This is a very specialmeeting." He grinned around thecigar. "This is where we takethe clothes off the sheep and findthe wolf."
Heidel watched the five faces.Sadler, Meehan, Locke, Forbes,Clarke. One of them. Which one?
"I'm a little thick tonight," saidHarry Locke. "I didn't follow whatyou meant."
"No, no, of course not," Heidelsaid, still grinning. "I'll explain it."He could feel himself alive at thatmoment, every nerve singing, everymuscle toned. His brain was quickand his tongue rolled the words outsmoothly. This was the kind ofsituation Heidel handled best. Atense, dramatic situation, full of atmosphereand suspense.
"Here it is," Heidel continued,"simply and briefly." He touchedthe cigar against an ash tray, watchingwith slitted shining eyes whilethe ashes spilled away from theglowing tip. He bent forward suddenly."We have an imposteramong us, gentlemen. A spy."
He waited, holding himself tenseagainst the table, letting the stingof his words have their effect. Thenhe leaned back, carefully. "And tonightI am going to expose this imposter.Right here, at this table."He searched the faces again, lookingfor a tell-tale twitch of a muscle,a movement of a hand, a shadingin the look of an eye.
There were only Sadler, Meehan,Locke, Forbes, Clarke, looking likethemselves, quizzical, polite, respecting.
"One of us, you say," Clarke saidnoncommittally, his phrase neithera question nor a positive statement.
"That is true," said Heidel.
"Bit of a situation at that," saidForbes, letting a faint smile touchhis lips.
"Understatement, Forbes," Heidelsaid. "Understatement."
"Didn't mean to sound capricious,"Forbes said, his smile gone.
"Of course not," Heidel said.
Edward Clarke cleared histhroat. "May I ask, sir, how thiswas discovered and how it was narroweddown to the Superior Council?"
"Surely," Heidel said crisply."No need to go into the troubleswe've been having. You know allabout that. But how these troublesoriginated is the important thing.Do you remember the missionaryaffair?"
"When we were going to convertthe Eastern industrial section?"
"That's righ