Judgment at Proteus (40 page)

“She certainly should be comfortable enough,” ChoDar commented, fondly patting the arms of his own chair. “These chairs are every bit as restful as the sleeping-room beds.” He yawned, a Halkan facial gesture that those unfamiliar with the species invariably assumed was an angry snarl. “In fact, if you’ll forgive such unhostlike behavior, I feel a small nap of my own coming on.”

“No apology or forgiveness needed,” I assured him. “In fact, I’ve been wondering myself how these chairs sleep.”

“Do try it, by all means,” ChoDar urged sleepily. “We’re all friends here, after all. Until later.”

He closed his eyes. I waited, and within a minute his breathing settled into the long rhythmic pattern of sleep.

I took a deep breath. “Hello, Modhri,” I said quietly.

Even in sleep, ChoDar’s face betrayed the slight but distinctive sagging of Modhran control. “Hello, Compton,” he murmured back. “A greeting to you, as well, Bayta.”

“Good evening, Modhri,” Bayta said. Her voice was polite enough, but I could tell she still wasn’t happy with this whole cozy relationship.

“Before we turn to other matters,” the Modhri said, “be first assured that the Shonkla-raa did nothing of long-term hazard to your companion. My mind segment on the Ilat Dumar Covrey station included two doctors. By the time our train left they had discussed the various medicines and procedures that my Eyes on
Kuzyatru
Station had seen and concluded that she is in no danger.”

His mouth twitched. “No additional danger, rather,” he amended. “She still carries the same genetic disorders that she had when she first came to the Filiaelian Assembly.”

“Yes,” I said, feeling a pang of guilt. Which was ridiculous, of course. Bayta and I had saved her from deadly danger out there.

Or had we?

Because we knew now that what the Shonkla-raa wanted was her unborn son. Part of that goal would have been for the boy to grow up into a productive, influential member of Human society. And the simplest way to do that would be to make sure he had a living, healthy mother.

Did that mean that, except for our interference, they would have cured her genetic problems?

But I couldn’t afford to think about one young girl’s future. Not when the future of every person in the Twelve Empires depended on us.

“We appreciate the information,” I said to the Modhri. “If we succeed in our endeavors, we may yet be able to deal with her medical problems.”

“We may hope so,” the Modhri said. “But now to the business at hand. May I ask how you intend to proceed? Particularly now that you may no longer travel freely through the Filiaelian Assembly?”

“I can travel
through
it just fine,” I corrected. “I just can’t leave the Tube.”

ChoDar snorted gently. “A meaningless distinction, since the Shonkla-raa will not
be
in the Tube.”

“Oh, they’ll be here, all right,” I said, grimacing. “As long as we’re here, there will be Shonkla-raa haunting every station and probably every train between here and Homshil.”

“Perhaps,” the Modhri said. “That will still leave the bulk of the enemy outside your area of operation. And as you’re already aware, my own presence in the Assembly is limited to traveling non-Filiaelians.”

“True,” I said. “But I have a few allies of my own I may be able to press into hunting duty.”

ChoDar inclined his head doubtfully. “You’ll need more than a few,” he warned. “The Assembly is an incredibly huge place.”

“But Shonkla-raa throats aren’t exactly easy to hide,” I reminded him. “Speaking of which, have you spotted any aboard this train? Or are we too far back to be in contact with the rest of your mind segment?”

“No, my other Eyes are spread out sufficiently to maintain a single segment with this Eye,” the Modhri said. “I haven’t yet seen any Shonkla-raa, though there may be one or more secluded inside first-class compartments.”

“They’d do better right now to use agents like Dr. Aronobal who aren’t actual Shonkla-raa,” Bayta murmured. “We wouldn’t be able to identify them so easily.”

“Good point,” I agreed. “And with the chaos we left back on Proteus, I’m guessing that’s all they were able to get on our train in time anyway.”

“What then do we do?” the Modhri asked.

“We watch and wait,” I told him. “If their agent is clever enough to avoid identification, there’s nothing we can do.” I cocked an eyebrow. “On the other hand, if we
can
identify him…”

ChoDar’s head nodded slightly, as a sleeping person might. “We can make him one of my Eyes.”

Abruptly, Bayta stood up and strode out of the lounge toward the sleeping rooms.

“My apologies,” the Modhri said quietly. “That was insensitive of me.”

“That’s all right,” I said. “She’s still getting used to this.”

“And you?”

I shrugged. “I was in Intelligence work long enough to know that you sometimes have to deal with one threat at a time. Right now, the Shonkla-raa are holding down the number-one spot on that list.”

“And after they’re defeated?” the Modhri asked, a sudden edge of nervousness to his voice. “Will our war then resume?”

“Do you want it to?” I countered.

ChoDar sighed. “I am what I am, Compton. You are what you are.”

“Maybe,” I said. “Personally, I’m a big believer in the idea that people can change.”

ChoDar smiled faintly. “And that, I believe, is the great strength of your people. No matter how powerful the forces arrayed against you, you never give up.”

“It’s definitely a strength,” I agreed. “But it can also be a weakness. I’ve seen people latch so hard onto a pre-conceived notion that they don’t let go even when reality no longer supports it.”

“Let us hope that neither of us ever so blinds himself,” the Modhri said.

“Indeed,” I said. “Anyway, by the time we have all the Shonkla-raa nests identified and located, I’m hopeful that we’ll have the capability of destroying them.”

ChoDar’s breathing changed, just slightly. “You have a plan?”

“I always have a plan,” I said, allowing just a bit of smug confidence into my voice. “Nothing I’m ready to share at the moment.”

For a moment he was silent. I wondered if he was going to take offense at my going all dark and mysterious on him, especially when we were supposed to be on the same team now.

But he didn’t. Maybe he knew that pressing the issue would be a waste of time. Maybe he simply trusted me. “I’ll look forward to hearing it when the time is right,” he said instead. “Have you any plans for the present?”

“I’ll start by sending out word to my various allies from the Spider message center at the next station,” I said. “Some of them are a bit tricky to locate, so I’ll need to start the process as soon as possible. In two weeks, when we reach Venidra Carvo and transfer to the super-express, I should have pings from all of them and will know where to send their individual orders and search areas. I’ll do that, and by the time we reach Homshil we should have preliminary reports from all of them.”

The Modhri seemed to ponder that. “Then some of your allies are already here in the Assembly?” he asked. “Otherwise, they will barely have arrived in Shorshian territory by the time we reach Homshil.”

“Let me worry about the timing and locations,” I said. “For now, all you need to do is keep an eye out for Shonkla-raa agents.”

“I will,” he promised. “When we reach the next station and you leave the car to deliver your messages, will you wish me to provide escort for you?”

“I’ll let you know when we get there,” I said. “Fillies in general aren’t all that good at distinguishing one Human face from another, and I may be able to just slip through whatever search party they’re able to throw together.”

“As you wish,” the Modhri said. “I’ll await your instructions.”

“Good.” I stood up. “And now, I think I’ll turn in. It’s been a long and rich day.”

Again, a faint smile creased ChoDar’s face. “That it has,” he agreed. “Shall we let the other two sleep here?”

The other two: Terese, and ChoDar, the body he was currently inhabiting. Even now, hearing the Modhri talk about his current host in the third person could still creep me out. “Fine with me,” I said, forcing my voice to stay casual. “As you pointed out, the chairs
are
quite comfortable.”

“Indeed,” the Modhri said. “Sleep well, Compton.”

ChoDar took a deep breath, and the sagging of his face disappeared as the Modhri retreated again into the recesses of the Halka’s brain. “You too,” I murmured.

My compartment door was open when I arrived. Bayta was sitting on the couch, gazing moodily out the display window at the featureless Tube landscape rolling past. “You heard?” I asked as I sat down beside her.

“Most of it,” she said. “Who exactly are these allies you were talking about?”

“The Modhri himself, for starters,” I said. “
Korak
Fayr and his Belldic commando squad. Also Bruce McMicking, who’s always up for a good fight. One or two others. The Spiders. You.”

“Most of whom are nowhere near Filiaelian space right now.”

“Well, there’s
Logra
Emikai,” I reminded her. “He’s certainly become an ally. But aside from him, you’re probably right. Though you really never know where Fayr might pop up.”

She took a deep breath, let it out in a long, silent sigh. “You don’t really have a plan, do you?”

“Sure I do,” I said. “We draw the Shonkla-raa out of hiding, kill them, then destroy any records they may have left about their procedures.”

“Those are goals,” she pointed out. “Not plans.”

I shrugged. “I’ll admit there are still a few details to be worked out. Don’t worry, we’ve got time.”

“You really think you can trust the Modhri?”

“For the moment, yes,” I said firmly. I might not have a real plan yet, but that one, at least, I had no doubts about. “He helped us on the super-express and at Proteus, and enlightened self-interest should keep him firmly on our side.” At least, I didn’t add, until we got back to Yandro for my requested face-to-face with the segment-prime.

At that point, things might change. Drastically.

“And once we’ve destroyed the Shonkla-raa?” she asked. “What then?”

“I have a couple of ideas,” I said evasively. “I think we can make it work.”

“Make what work? A truce? An armistice? Peace?”

“We’ll make it work,” I said again.

“All right,” she said, her tone suggesting more dutiful acceptance than genuine agreement. “The next stop is six hours away. Do you want me to help you encode the messages you said you wanted to send?”

“No, I can do it,” I said. “They’re mostly just the preliminary heads-up notes to get Fayr and McMicking ready to move. The more detailed stuff can wait until Venidra Carvo.”

“When you
will
have a plan?”

I reached down and took her hand. “It’s going to work, Bayta,” I said quietly. “Trust me.”

She gave me a forced smile. “I always have, Frank,” she said, just as quietly.

“Then that’s settled,” I said, trying for a touch of levity that didn’t quite come off. “And now, it’s time we both hit the sack. Come on, I’ll walk you back to your room.”

She smiled, a real one this time. “What, the whole ten meters?”

“A gentleman never considers the distance,” I said, standing up and offering her my arm like all the best gentlemen heroes from the dit-rec classics.

A minute later we said our final good-nights, and her door closed in front of me. I waited until I heard the snick of the lock, then went back to my own compartment.

I had a plan, all right, or at least the beginnings of one. One that had a fair chance of success.

The problem was that I was also pretty sure no one on my list of allies was going to like it. Bayta, probably not. The Chahwyn, almost certainly not.

The Modhri, absolutely not.

But the clock was ticking, and we were running low on time. Even as we headed toward Human space at a light-year per minute, whatever was left of the Proteus group would be madly throwing message cylinders in all directions, messages that would travel a thousand times faster than we could. By the time we reached Venidra Carvo two weeks from now, they could very well be ready to make some kind of move against us. By the time we reached Homshil six weeks after that, their entire army could be on the move.

I had until then to finalize my plan. Or to come up with something better.

*   *   *

The first hurdle, at least, turned out to be easy. Six hours later, at the next station, I left the Peerage car along with a trickle of other passengers. Weaving my way through the waiting clumps of Fillies, Shorshians, and others to the Spiders’ message center, I added my handful of messages to the queue.

Neither Bayta nor the Modhri liked the idea of me going out all by myself. But I wasn’t worried about it. If there were any Shonkla-raa agents aboard our train, I knew there would have been no time at Ilat Dumar Covrey to give them any instructions more complicated or aggressive than to lie low and watch our movements.

And, of course, to report those movements. On my way out of the message center I spotted four Fillies heading toward it. One of them, I had no doubt, would be sending a quick report to Proteus and beyond. But as I expected, none of them tried to interfere with me.

Half an hour later, we were off again.

The next hurdle, unfortunately, wouldn’t be nearly so easy. As soon as the Shonkla-raa leadership learned that I wasn’t just running for home but was sending off messages along the way, they might well decide that their first priority should be to get those messages stopped.

If they found a way to steal or destroy the messages, we were going to lose valuable time. If they decided they’d rather destroy the messenger, we might lose something considerably more valuable. Me.

The days passed slowly. Most of our waking hours were idled away with conversation, meals, music, and dit-rec entertainment.

And slowly, as I gazed unseeingly at the current dit-rec or stared up at the darkened ceiling above my bed in the middle of the night, I hammered out my battle plan.

It was my one, single focus in life. Every other part of our day-to-day schedule—eating, socializing, exercising, even the occasional evening card marathon—ran almost completely on mental autopilot.