Night Train to Rigel (Quadrail Book 1)

by Timothy Zahn

  “Okay,” she said, still sounding puzzled. “Again: So?”

  “Remember what the Spiders said about the Bellidos who followed us onto the Sistarrko train? The third-class group were in the last coach, the one right in front of the baggage car. I never got around to telling you, but the ones who jumped me in the Jurskala Quadrail also seemed to have been in the very back, too, the seats just in front of the baggage car. You seeing a pattern?”

  “But all the cargo back there is unsecured,” she said. “If they had something valuable to transport, shouldn’t they have put it in the secured cargo areas instead?”

  “Normally, yes,” I agreed. “But secured cargo automatically gets more attention, official and unofficial. Maybe they preferred to go low profile, trusting in their own ability to protect it if necessary.”

  “All right,” she said slowly. “What do you think they were transporting?”

  “No idea,” I said. “That’s where you come in. I want you to send a message to the Spiders and get a list of all the cargo and baggage that came off our Quadrail. I presume you have an encryption you can use?”

  “Well … yes,” she said. “But I’m only supposed to use it for emergencies.”

  “Close enough,” I said. “And get everything, not just stuff coming in under Belldic registration—they might have used a dummy name. And don’t forget about the bugs in the suite.”

  We arrived at the suite, and Bayta got started on her message while I took a quick shower and chose some nice semi-formal clothing from the closet. One other chore and I was gone, feeling a little guilty at leaving Bayta alone with the room service menu.

  I needn’t have rushed. Losutu and Applegate, as befitted their high-level bureaucrat and high-level bureaucrat flunky status, were nearly fifteen minutes late. “Compton,” Losutu greeted me curtly as they sat down at the table I’d procured for us. “Got us something not too close to the damn coral, I see. Good.”

  “You don’t like Modhran coral?” I asked, focusing for a moment on the decorative waterfall/coral arrangement in the center of the room. It wasn’t as impressive as the display in the casino, but of course the Redbird wasn’t as large and impressive a place to begin with.

  “Hate the stuff,” he declared as he punched up the menu. “I will never understand the obsession the rest of the galaxy seems to have with it. It’s not particularly attractive in the first place, and after a few bumps it’s going to look like a badly trimmed hedge.”

  “It’s also apparently the Halkan equivalent of cuddlestuff animals,” Applegate added. “You talk with anyone here long enough, and sooner or later he’ll try to get you to go over and touch it.”

  “Yes, I’ve had one or two such invitations myself,” I said. “I can’t say I see the attraction.”

  “Coral’s such rough, pointy, scratchy stuff,” Applegate agreed with a grunt as he studied the menu. “Someone really needs to introduce these people to satin and velvet.”

  “Nice that we can all agree on something,” Losutu said, eyeing me. “Now convince me we can agree on something important. Applegate seems to think you can be helpful to the Directorate on this starfighter deal.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that,” I said. “My primary obligations are still to my employer, but I should be able to take a quick trip to Modhra II with you and look at the Chaftas. Provided you can drop me off at the Balercomb Formations afterward.”

  “The what?” Losutu asked, frowning.

  “That’s where he was planning to go tomorrow morning on the tour bus,” Applegate explained.

  “The bus is a ground transport, I presume?” Losutu asked.

  “Yes,” I said. “They don’t want even Shorshic thrusters coming too close to the formations.”

  Losutu grunted. “Fine. We’ll see if Applegate can work his diplomatic magic and can get us permission to land you nearby.”

  “Good,” I said. “The next question is how much use I’ll actually be to you. Starfighters are hardly my area of expertise.”

  “Cards on the table, Mr. Compton,” Losutu said. “Your technical expertise or lack of it is irrelevant. All I need from you is an endorsement that would help sell this plan to the Western Alliance.”

  “I understand,” I said evenly. I’d been fairly repulsed by the whole cynical scheme when Applegate had first suggested it, and it didn’t sound any better coming from Losutu. But at least he was being honest about it. “Let me look at the fighters and I’ll let you know.”

  For a moment Losutu studied my face. Then his lip quirked microscopically, and he nodded. “Fair enough,” he said. “We’ll expect you at the lodge’s main entrance tomorrow morning at ten.”

  The toboggan tunnel work schedule I’d pulled from the hotel computer just before coming to dinner had indicated the crew was due on site at seven. That should give me plenty of time. “I’ll be there,” I promised.

  “Good,” Losutu said, leaning back in his seat and gesturing to the menu. “Then while we eat you can tell us all about this new travel job of yours.”

  “Certainly,” I said, shifting my brain into liar mode. It was becoming an increasingly easy transition for me to make. “I was approached about three months ago.…”

  The evening turned out to be considerably more pleasant than I’d expected, despite the fact that I didn’t particularly like or trust either of my dinner companions. Losutu could be rather charming when he chose, in a cold-fish sort of way, and Applegate had apparently decided to abandon the comrades-in-arms approach he’d tried on the Quadrail and let Losutu do most of the talking.

  We had a long and leisurely dinner, the full traditional Halkan five courses plus the knotting of wish sticks at the end. Once I’d finished my travel-agent story the conversation turned to Losutu’s dealings with the rest of the galaxy on the Confederation’s behalf, a monologue heavy on amusing stories and light on useful information.

  As promised, Applegate picked up the tab on the UN’s behalf, and I was making my farewells when Losutu suggested we go see a show. For no particular reason I said yes, and we headed up to the theater section nestled just beneath the ice. The show he chose was a Cimman production, but it had been written broadly enough to be at least marginally accessible to other species. I’d always thought of Cimman drama as a cross between Japanese Kabuki theater and English Reformation comedy, and this one in particular seemed to hit just the right notes. I enjoyed it thoroughly, and by the time it was over I was feeling more relaxed than I’d been since I’d walked down the steps at the New Pallas Towers that dark evening seventeen days ago. Leaving Losutu and Applegate at the elevator bank—they were going to the theater lounge to hammer out final details for the morning’s inspection tour—I got into one of the elevators and punched for my floor.

  At least, I thought I’d punched for it. But when the doors slid open, I found myself gazing instead down into the casino.

  My first impulse was to stay in the car and simply make sure I hit the right button this time. But between the background hum of conversation, the clicking of the dice and chips and chinko tiles, and the effervescent sparkle of the waterfall, I found myself instead stepping out of the elevator and walking down the ramp to the main floor. No matter how quickly Bayta had gotten her message off she couldn’t possibly have gotten an answer yet, so there really wasn’t any need for me to hurry back to the suite. Besides, a little judicious eavesdropping might sift out a useful nugget or two.

  I spent some time wandering the casino, watching the games and keeping my ears open. Again, though, all the conversations seemed to center on fluff and trivialities. I made a complete circle of the floor, shifted to a sort of lopsided figure eight, then finally went with a straight inward vector.

  And so within a few minutes of my arrival, I found myself standing by the central fountain.

  I gazed down into the pool, watching how the lapping water gently surging around the coral caught the casino’s lights, adding an extra sparkle to the subtle color d
isplay. It really was an intriguing substance, I had to admit, and in this light it didn’t look nearly as scratchy as Earth coral. Earlier, I’d agreed with Applegate’s curt dismissal of its unfriendly texture; but as I stood here now, I wondered if perhaps I’d been overly hasty. Everyone else seemed to think it was no big deal to pet this stuff. What if they were right?

  Besides, even if they weren’t, what was the big deal? At worst, I’d get a scratch or two. At best, I’d be able to go to Bayta and tell her what a rewarding experience it had been—

  I frowned, my train of rationalization braking to a sudden halt. Bayta, who had gazed into my eyes with a face more filled with concern than any of my superiors at Westali had ever shown, and had begged me to promise I would never touch Modhran coral.

  And I’d looked back into that face, and made a little joke, and said yes.

  It was ridiculous, of course. Bayta was a casual companion, thrown at me without invitation on a job I’d essentially been press-ganged into doing. She was also a liar, at least by omission, with a private agenda that may or may not have my own best interests at heart. And it wasn’t as if I’d sworn a solemn oath on a multitranslation Bible or anything.

  Which was, a small corner of my mind noted, more rationalization.

  I didn’t need to rationalize. I was a big boy, and I could do what I wanted. And I didn’t need to care about anyone’s opinion, especially Bayta’s.

  So why was I spending all this effort to talk myself into this?

  I focused my eyes on the coral in front of me … and it was only then that I discovered that my hand was already stretched out over the pool and starting down toward the sloshing water.

  I snatched the hand back, feeling sweat suddenly breaking out on my face. What the hell was going on here? I took a long step away from the pool, looking over my shoulder to make sure I wasn’t going to back into anyone.

  I froze. All around me, everywhere I could see, the casino patrons had paused in their games and their conversations.

  And they were all watching me.

  The tableau lasted only a fraction of a second before they turned away again, casually resuming their activities as if it had all been a giant coincidence, that they’d all merely happened to be looking in the same direction at the same moment. But I knew better.

  Earlier, I’d wondered whether Bayta and I might have stumbled into the middle of some strange conspiracy. Now I knew that we had.

  I headed straight for the exit ramp, senses alert, face set into a combat mask that dared anyone to try to stop me. Fortunately for them, no one did. I reached the elevators and punched the call button, and a few seconds later was on my way down to our suite.

  I arrived to find Bayta slouched low into one of the couches, gazing dully at some unfamiliar dit rec. She looked up as I came in, a flicker of relief crossing her face. “There you are,” she said, her tone a subtle mixture of petulance, concern, and relief. “I was starting to worry.”

  “Sorry,” I said, keeping my voice casual as my watch tingled the news that the hidden microphones were still on duty. “Losutu insisted on dragging me to one of the shows afterwards.” I gestured toward the bedroom. “Going to be a busy day tomorrow. We’d better get to bed.”

  She twitched, her eyes widening a little. Up to now, we’d never even slept in the same room, let alone together in the same bed. “To—?”

  “To bed,” I repeated, leaning a little on the last word as I touched my ear in warning.

  She swallowed visibly. “All right,” she said. Turning off the dit rec, she disappeared into the bedroom.

  I shut off the lights and opaqued the walls and floor in the main room, then double-checked that the door was triple-locked. By the time I joined her she had similarly opaqued the bedroom wall and floor and was lying rigidly in the middle of the bed with the blanket and overblanket pulled up to her chin. I turned off the light, took off my shoes, and crawled in from the near side. “Mm—you smell good tonight,” I commented aloud for the benefit of listening ears as I maneuvered close to her.

  She didn’t say anything, but just lay silently, her body as rigid as a board. Like me, she was still fully clothed. “Sorry about this,” I whispered in her ear. “But the bugs are still active. The ones in this room are over by the bathroom and closet, so we should be able to talk here without them listening in.”

  “What do you want to talk about?” she whispered back.

  “Let me start by telling you about my evening.”

  I recounted everything that had happened, from the dinner to the play to my unplanned detour into the casino. When I had finished, she was silent so long that I wondered if she’d fallen asleep. Then she turned her head to put her lips by my ear. “Are you sure you didn’t touch the coral?”

  “I’m positive,” I assured her.

  “How can you be?” she demanded. “You said you blacked out for a second. Could you have touched it, then dried your hand on your jacket?”

  I shook my head. “The coral where I was standing was deep enough for my cuff to have gone into the water, too. There’s no way I could have dried that off.” I turned my head a little and gazed down at the top of her head. “I think it’s about time you told me just what the hell is going on here, Bayta. Especially what the hell is going on with the coral.”

  I felt her body stiffen. “I can’t tell you,” she said, the words coming out almost too quiet to hear. “Not yet. I’m sorry.”

  “You may be sorrier than you think,” I warned. “I can’t protect you against danger I don’t understand.”

  She hesitated, and I held my breath. But no. “The coral’s not dangerous if you don’t touch it,” she said. “That’s all I can say right now.”

  Earlier, up on the surface, I’d thought about simply walking out on this mess. Now, after the eeriness of the casino, I was even more inclined to do so. And to take Bayta with me, whether she wanted to go or not.

  But down deep, I knew it wouldn’t work. Whoever our mysterious enemies were, we were already in their sights. One way or another, we had to see this through. “Have it your way,” I said. “Just remember that your neck’s on the line here, too.”

  She shivered. “I know,” she murmured. “What are we going to do?”

  “We’re going to stick with Plan A, and try to get a look at what the Bellidos have been up to,” I said.

  “Before or after you go to Modhra II with your friends to see the starfighters?”

  It was usually hard to distinguish emotions in a whisper, but I had no trouble hearing the harshness in hers. “They’re not my friends, and I don’t give a damn about the starfighters,” I growled back. “What have you got against friends, anyway? Or do you just like to rub in the fact that I don’t have any?”

  For a moment she didn’t speak. “How are you going to do it?” she asked at last.

  I grimaced. For a moment there … But that was all right. I didn’t particularly want her friendship, either. “There’s an employees-only door up in the lodge near the airlocks that’s probably a ready room. I’ll sneak in after the main work force has left and get a suit.”

  “Won’t that be dangerous?”

  “Depends on whether the whole resort staff is in on the conspiracy or if it’s just the upper-crust elite who come here to play,” I said. “Anyway, assuming I get that far, and further assuming I have enough time in that bend of the tunnel with no one watching, I should be able to poke a small hole through the ice, take a quick look, seal it up, and be back in time for my ten o’clock appointment with Losutu.”

  “And then you are going with him to Modhra II?”

  “At the moment, I can’t see any plausible way to get out of it,” I said regretfully. “But I’ll say all the things he wants to hear and get back here as quickly as I can. With luck, we’ll be able to grab the afternoon torchferry to the Tube.”

  She hissed out a sigh. Clearly, she wasn’t happy with any of this. “What do you want me to do?”

  �
��That’s up to you,” I said. “You can stay here, or you can join the tour group and go ahead of me to the Balercomb Formations. That’s where Losutu’s going to drop me off, so if you do that we can ride back together on the bus.”

  “I’ll go on the tour, I guess,” she said. “When does it leave?”

  “Seven-half from the lodge,” I said. “I’ll already be gone, so you’ll have to get there on your own. You think you can handle it?”

  “I made it to Earth and back on my own,” she said a little tartly.

  “I know,” I said. “But everyone on Earth wasn’t out to get you.”

  She shivered again. “I’ll be all right.”

  “Good girl,” I said. “Did you get that message off to the Spiders?”

  She nodded, her hair brushing against my cheek. “But we won’t get an answer before tomorrow.”

  “Understood,” I said. “Where is it? I’d like to take a look.”

  “On my reader, in the outgoing message folder.”

  “Okay,” I said, gathering myself to slide back to the edge of the bed. “Try to get some sleep.”

  “Are you coming back?” she asked.

  “Of course,” I said, trying for a confidence I didn’t feel. “I was trained by one of the best, remember?”

  “No,” she said hesitantly. “I meant … are you coming back now?”

  I frowned in the darkness. “What?”

  Her sigh was a breath of warm air against my skin. “I’m afraid,” she said simply. “I don’t want to be alone.”

  I looked down again at the top of her head, wondering how much it had cost her pride to admit something like that.

  Still, now that she mentioned it, I realized I didn’t especially want to be alone right now, either. “It’s okay,” I assured her, groping beneath the sheets to find and squeeze her hand. For once, she didn’t pull it away. “I’ll look at the message and check on a couple of other things, and then I’ll be right back.”

  Her reader was on the desk by the computer. I turned it on, went through the convoluted access procedure she’d taught me, and found the message. I glanced over it, noting with approval that it was exactly what I’d asked her to send, then scrolled down to the encrypted version. Pulling out my own reader, I scanned her message in and keyed for an analysis. I watched the procedure long enough to confirm that it wasn’t a Halkan military encryption, then turned on the room’s computer and again skulked my way into the hotel’s food service records.