Judgment at Proteus (42 page)

“Thank you, Doctor,” Bayta said quietly.

(My pleasure, as well as my profession,) he said. (The machines will complete the rest of the procedure. I will be at the monitor station should you have any other concerns.)

“One question before you go,” I said. “If we hadn’t gotten her here when we did, what would have happened?”

A Human doctor, coached in tact and bedside manners, might have hesitated. Not this one. (She would be dead,) he said flatly.

I grimaced. It was the same conclusion I’d already come to. “Thank you.”

He gestured a polite farewell and left the room. “Interesting,” I commented to Bayta.

“Not the word I would have used,” she said soberly. “This makes no sense, Frank. Why would she want to do something like this to herself?” She shot a sudden frown at me. “Or did you just say that for YhoTeHeu’s benefit?”

“No, I meant it,” I told her. “Or at least I did at the time. Now, I’m not so sure. Rather, I’m not sure Terese herself was her intended target.”

“But then—?” Bayta broke off, her throat tightening. “Oh.”

“Oh, indeed,” I agreed grimly. “I suppose I can’t really blame her, either. How would
you
like to suddenly find out that the baby you were carrying was a genetically manipulated monster designed by a bunch of megalomaniacs who wanted to take over the galaxy? You might want to try and do away with it, too.”

“No, I wouldn’t,” Bayta said, an edge of cold fire in her tone. “I’d focus on the ones who had done this to me. To me
and
to the child.”

“Good for you,” I said. “But you’re not a sixteen-year-old who’s all alone in the universe. No, I think…” I trailed off, frowning, as something odd suddenly struck me.

Normally Bayta was sensitive enough to my voice and expression to pick up on such things. This time, with her full attention on Terese, she missed it completely. “Why didn’t she say something?” she murmured, gazing down at the girl’s sleeping face. “Why didn’t we see it coming?”

“We did,” I said. “Or rather, I did. Or rather, I should have.”

“You’re not making sense.”

“Because I’m mad at myself.” I took a deep breath. “Think back, Bayta. Terese was at every meal over the past two weeks. She watched every dit-rec with us, played or at least watched our card games, even sat there those two afternoons that ChoDar spent inflicting his music on us.”

“Though she didn’t actually listen to it,” Bayta said. “I noticed she was running her own music through her headphones.”

“Which just proves she has a modicum of good taste,” I said. “My point is that through all of that her body might have been there, but
she
wasn’t. Her heart and mind were a million light-years away.”

“She was like that on the super-express, too,” Bayta reminded me. “You saw what a private sort of person she is. And as ChoDar said, a single Peerage car can be stifling. There was nowhere she could really get away.”

“Of course there was—there was her room,” I said. “She could have gone in there any time she wanted to and locked the door. ChoDar probably would even have had MewHijLosFuw deliver her meals there if she couldn’t stand the sight of us even that long. But instead she sat out there with everyone else, pretending to be sociable.”

“Because she was trying to look normal,” Bayta said, and I winced at the ache in her voice. Of all the people in the galaxy, Bayta knew best what it meant not to be what anyone else would define as normal. “She didn’t want to draw attention to herself by being antisocial.”

“Because she’d already made up her mind what she was going to do the first chance she got,” I said quietly. “This was that chance.”

“She knew she couldn’t get anything from Senior Ambassador ChoDar’s drinks cabinet without his or Chef KhiChoDe’s permission,” Bayta said, nodding tiredly. “And she was probably afraid it would tip us off if she tried.”

“That’s my guess,” I agreed. “Unfortunately, this is going to drastically change our travel plans.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean we can’t spend the next month and a half cooped up in the Peerage car,” I said. “She may try to kill herself or her child again, and none of us has the necessary medical training or equipment to deal with that if she does.”

Bayta’s eyes widened. “Frank, we can’t ride the regular super-express,” she said, her voice low and urgent. “The Shonkla-raa have already tried to get us once.”

“I know, but I don’t see any choice,” I said. “Not unless you want to strap her down in her Peerage-car compartment.”

“We could do that,” Bayta said. “I mean, no, we can’t strap her down. But we could restrain her. We could do
something
.”

“And turn the only friends she’s got into her jailers?” I asked gently.

For a moment Bayta stared at me. Then, she exhaled a long breath, and her shoulders slumped. “She would hate us,” she said, an infinite sadness in her voice. “And once we reached Earth, and we couldn’t watch her anymore…”

She didn’t finish the sentence. But then, she didn’t have to. Once Terese was on her own again, she would finish the job she’d started today. One way or another.

“What it boils down to is that we can’t physically stop her from destroying her child if she wants to,” I said. “So what we need to do is make her not want to anymore. We need to persuade her to your way of thinking, that it’s the Shonkla-raa she should be fighting, not herself or her child. And we have to start by forgiving her for this stunt, and to prove we trust her by giving her some space and freedom.”

Bayta exhaled a snort. “On a Quadrail filled with Shonkla-raa and their agents?”

“Probably not exactly
filled
with them,” I soothed her. “And we’ll have a whole bunch of Spiders around to help us keep track of her.”

“Spiders who’ll be helpless if the Shonkla-raa attack,” Bayta pointed out grimly.

“They’re pretty much helpless anyway, at least in any serious fight,” I said. “Fortunately, I doubt the Shonkla-raa are ready to take it to that level. Not yet.”

“I’d hate to count on that,” Bayta warned. “After what we did to them on Proteus, they must be pretty angry.”

“Actually, if they’re that strongly driven by revenge, we can all heave a sigh of relief,” I said. “Revenge-seekers are incredibly easy to manipulate to their own destruction. No, I don’t think they’ll do anything because of two crucial facts. One, they don’t know who all our allies are; and two, for all their incredibly smug confidence they’re still a pretty small group.”

Bayta shivered. “But very powerful.”

“True,” I conceded. “Lucky for us, it’s the raw numbers that matter here. See, if you’ve got a big army, the simplest way to find out who your secret enemies are is by letting those enemies take potshots at you. You’ll lose a few of your own in each attack, but I’ve known commanders who wouldn’t be bothered a bit by that cost as long as it got them what they wanted.”

“I see where you’re going,” Bayta said, nodding slowly. “A small group can’t do that, and they’ve already lost quite a few of their number. If they hit us again, they could lose more, and they can’t afford to keep doing that.”

“Exactly,” I said. “Especially since hitting us won’t tell them anything new about our allies. No, for now they’re going to be watching and waiting, giving their agents time to figure out who and what we have lurking in the shadows.”

For a moment Bayta was silent, and I knew she was thinking about the depressing fact that, no matter how short the Shonkla-raa membership rolls might be, our own list of allies was considerably shorter. “How many compartments will we want?” she asked.

“Ideally, three,” I said. “If that’s not possible, I suppose you and Terese could bunk together.”

There was another moment of silence as she conferred with the stationmaster. “There aren’t any compartments available,” she said at last. “But there’s a long enough request list that the stationmaster is willing to add another compartment car. The three of us can have a double.”

“Good enough,” I said. “I’ll see if YhoTeHeu’s still in the lobby. If he is, I’ll tell him to wait here with you and Terese while I go tell ChoDar about the change in plans.”

Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out the
kwi
and pressed it into Bayta’s hand. “I’ll leave this with you regardless. Back as soon as I can.”

*   *   *

ChoDar wasn’t happy with my proposed change of plans. He’d been most pleased with our company, he told me regretfully, and had looked forward to sharing more dit-recs and elegant cuisine with us over the remainder of our journey.

The Modhri inside him was even less happy about it, especially after having sent two of his walkers tearing halfway across the station to give us cover from the Shonkla-raa attack. I thanked him, promised everything would be all right, and told him I would look forward to meeting the members of the mind segment that would be traveling with me.

I didn’t mention that I mostly wanted to meet those walkers so that I’d know who I’d be fighting if I was wrong about the Shonkla-raa making a move on the super-express.

The Modhri didn’t mention it, either. But he didn’t have to. We both knew.

*   *   *

Two hours later, the super-express—all fifty cars of it—pulled out of the station. We rolled up the ramp into the Tube and headed into six weeks’ worth of complete isolation.

Normally, the compartment cars were all were lined up together at the front of the train, between the engines and the regular first-class coach cars. In this case, at Bayta’s suggestion, the Spiders had put our extra compartment car a bit further to the rear, placing it between the first-class dining car and one of the extra storage cars that came with super-express trains. That meant Bayta, Terese, and I could get our meals without having to run the gauntlet of other compartment cars, whose doors might conceal any number of possible dangers, and also avoid putting ourselves on obvious display as we walked through the regular first-class coach cars.

I’d expected the Modhri to have a mind segment aboard, and he did: six walkers, four ahead of us in first class and two behind us in second. ChoDar himself would have been a seventh, but I was informed by a gregarious Shorshian who approached Bayta and me at dinner on the first night out that ChoDar was too far away from the train’s passenger sections to link up with the rest of the mind segment.

In some ways, that was a good thing. The Modhri was already planning to send one or two of the walkers back through third class and the baggage cars every day or two, moving them close enough to the Peerage car to link up with the ChoDar mind segment and keep it apprised of events. At the same time, ChoDar’s isolation meant that, should things go to hell up here, the overall Modhri mind would at least have some data on what had happened.

I’d also expected the Shonkla-raa to have some of their number aboard, and I was right about that, too. Within the first two days of travel the Modhri identified one full-fledged Shonkla-raa, enlarged throat and everything, plus four Fillies who were probable Shonkla-raa agents.

One of those four, to my mild surprise, was our friend Scrawny from the Venidra Carvo station. Apparently his failure to corral us back there wasn’t being held against him.

Those things I’d expected. What I
hadn’t
expected was to walk through the rear first-class car on our third day out and find YhoTeHeu seated there, calmly watching a dit-rec drama on the nearest display window.

In hindsight, I should have anticipated something like that. The Modhri would be unable to protect me if our enemy decided to make serious trouble along the way. He also knew from my confrontation with
Asantra
Muzzfor that I couldn’t take a Shonkla-raa all by myself.

Hence, ChoDar’s parting gift of a combat-trained fellow fighter. Whatever the Shonkla-raa had in mind, YhoTeHeu might give us the edge we needed.

But as the train continued to click its way down the Tube, and the passengers settled into their own personal routines, that confrontation continued to not happen. The Shonkla-raa himself proved to be the bashful type, seldom leaving his compartment near the front of the train and never when I was out and about. As the days passed, I began to hope that he had strict orders to merely watch us, and that he might remain under his rock all the way to Homshil.

Two weeks into the trip, that hope came to a sudden stop.

*   *   *

It was late at night, and Bayta and Terese had gotten into one of the light conversations that Bayta had been nurturing with the girl ever since our departure from Venidra Carvo. Their talks never seemed to get past dit-recs, food, and clothing, but Bayta was being gently persistent, and in this particular instance I had the feeling that the two of them might be on the edge of something a little deeper. Since it was obvious they weren’t going to get serious as long as I was hanging around, I excused myself and headed to the bar end of the dining car.

I was sitting at a rear table, nursing a sweet iced tea and pondering the mysteries of womanhood, when a lone Filly seated with his back to me two tables over pushed back his chair and stood up. I had just enough time to register his oversized throat before he strode casually over and lowered himself into the chair across the table from me. “Hello, Compton,” he said casually.

“Hello, Shonkla-raa,” I managed, matching his tone as best I could with a suddenly racing heartbeat. “Enjoying the trip?”

He gave a small shrug. His nose blaze, I saw, had subtle diagonal stripes built into the mix of browns and tans. It reminded me somehow of sergeant’s stripes. “It has been said that travel broadens the mind,” he said. “Would you care to have your mind broadened, Compton?”

Looking furtively around, I knew, would be taken as a sign of weakness and desperation. With an effort, I kept my eyes on the Filly instead.

Besides, I already knew there was no help for me here. Aside from the two of us, the bar’s current clientele consisted of two Shorshians having a drinking contest and a pear-shaped Cimma lost to the world in his simmering cup of something hot. None of the Modhran walkers was in the room, which under the circumstances was probably a good thing. The server Spider who was supposed to be behind the bar had vanished, either gone off-duty or else on a resupply trip back into his stockroom, eliminating any chance of bringing Bayta and the
kwi
that was living in her pocket these days.