Night Train to Rigel

rectangular table ringed by nicely padded rolling chairs, while the far end was dominated by a media setup with all the equipment necessary for a business or social dit rec presentation. A few sculptures and paintings were scattered around, and along one wall was a narrow water channel with a babbling brook running over more of the ubiquitous Modhran coral.

There were three people seated on the side of the table nearest the coral, obviously waiting for us. One of them was a Halkan Peer wearing a tricolor scheme I didn’t recognize, with a Halka in an upper-class layered suit seated beside him. The third was my Belldic acquaintance Apos Mahf. “Mr. Compton,” the latter said, nodding as our two Halkan escorts took up positions just inside the door. “Again we meet.”

“So we do,” I agreed as Applegate led me to a chair across from Mahf and sat me down, taking the seat to my left. “Perhaps you would like to explain what exactly is going on.”

“I think you know,” Mahf said darkly, his eyes shifting to Bayta as the Halkan major put her at the end of the table by the door and sat down beside her. “Perhaps your companion will begin by telling us what happened aboard the tour bus.”

“I really don’t know,” Bayta said, her voice trembling. I’d watched her as they’d marched us from the ambulance into the lodge, and as far as I could tell through a vac suit she didn’t seem particularly injured. But she was obviously still pretty shaken. “One minute we were traveling along the ice and the driver was describing some of the formations. The next minute we were all suddenly thrown against the seats and walls as the bus crashed and fell over on its side.”

“You saw none of your fellow passengers approach the driver just before this happened?” Mahf asked.

Bayta shook her head. “I was looking out the window.”

“You saw no one struggle with the driver, or try to take the control wheel from him?” Mahf persisted. “Nor did you see anyone try afterward to escape onto the ice?”

“No, nothing like that,” Bayta insisted. “I was looking out—”

“Out the window,” Mahf finished for her. “Of course you were.” Abruptly, he shifted his glare to me. “What about you?”

The quick-change attack was a time-honored way of throwing interrogation subjects off step. Unfortunately for Mahf, I’d read the same manuals he had. “What about me?” I countered calmly. “I was thirty kilometers away when it happened.”

“In an area where you had no business being,” the non-Peer Halka put in.

I focused on him. “And you are…?”

“This is Superintendent Prif Klas,” Applegate said. He had the look and sound of a man in the middle of trouble not of his own making who would rather be almost anywhere else. “The administrator of the resort.”

“Ah,” I said, looking him up and down. “My apologies. I was under the impression that Apos Mahf was the one in charge here.”

Prif Klas bristled—“I’m here solely as an advisor,” Mahf said hastily. “Full Colonel AvsBlar of the Halkan army is the commander on the scene.”

“And where is he?”

“Deploying his troops,” Mahf said.

“Not that this is any of your business,” the Peer said.

“And you are…?” I asked.

“My name is unimportant,” he said. “Superintendent Prif Klas asked me to sit in on the proceedings.”

“Ah,” I said, turning back to Prif Klas. “So where exactly did you scare up a full colonel on such short notice?”

“From the garrison on Modhra II, of course,” Prif Klas said, a note of malicious satisfaction in his voice. “You didn’t know we had a garrison here, did you?”

Beside me, I sensed Applegate squirm in his seat. Perhaps he and Losutu had overstepped their bounds when they’d told me about the Modhran military presence. Still, they’d never actually mentioned a garrison. “No, I didn’t,” I said truthfully.

“Good,” Prif Klas said. “Now tell me why you were at the work site.”

“I wanted to see how the resort expansion was progressing,” I said.

“Even though that area is strictly off-limits to guests?”

“I saw no such signs to that effect,” I said. “Besides, what could you be doing out there you’d want to hide?”

Beside Bayta, the major snorted, a wet, whispery sound. “You are here to answer questions, Human, not to ask them.”

I shrugged. “Fine. So ask.”

“I told you he was a cool one, Superintendent,” Mahf murmured. “Very cool, very professional. More than ever I see the hand of Korak Fayr in this.”

I pricked up my ears. Kora was the Belldic equivalent of major; adding the final k made it a major of commandos. That sounded rather like the sort of person I’d been shadowboxing with for most of this trip.

“Yet you have no proof Fayr is even on Modhra,” Prif Klas countered.

“He’s here,” Mahf assured him grimly. “And he will hardly let a mishap like this discourage him. You’ve moved all submarines away from the hotel?”

“Yes, and have deployed them around the caverns,” Prif Klas confirmed.

“And the troops?” Mahf asked, looking across at the major beside Bayta.

“Deployed around the formations.” The major launched into a list of numbers and map coordinates.

And as he did so, I eased my bound wrists beneath the edge of the table. The Halkas had put the cuffs on while my vac suit was fully pressurized, and no one had bothered to refasten them since I’d had my helmet removed. If the suit depressurization had left enough slack, there was a chance I could pop them and get free.

There was indeed a little slack. Not much, but maybe enough.

Beside me, Applegate cleared his throat softly. I turned to find him gazing at me, a knowing expression on his face as he glanced down at my wrists. He gave me a microscopic nod, then turned casually away.

The major finished his recitation. “Which again brings us to you,” Prif Klas said, turning back to face me. “You’ll find things much easier if you cooperate.”

“I’d love to,” I said. “But I have no idea what this is all about.”

“Actually, Superintendent, he may be telling the truth,” Mahf spoke up reluctantly. “I’ve read his file, and cannot envision him involving himself in something like this. Do you agree, Colonel Applegate?”

“I never knew him all that well,” Applegate hedged. “He was just one of many investigators under my overall command.”

“Yet if he is innocent, how do you explain his presence?” Prif Klas demanded.

“We were invited,” I told him. “High Commissioner JhanKla of the Fifth Sector Assembly recommended the place.”

“And all the rest is pure coincidence?” Prif Klas asked sarcastically.

“All the rest what?” I asked.

Prif Klas snorted. “So now you play a waiting game.”

“Or he is in fact an innocent dupe,” Mahf persisted. “If so, he would have no reason to protect information that might lead us to Fayr.”

For a moment the two of them locked eyes, and I had to suppress a cynical smile. Did they really think I would be so easily taken in by the old good-cop/bad-cop routine? Especially with Applegate, the obvious good-cop candidate, clearly not interested in playing along? “You may try,” Prif Klas said grudgingly. “Be brief.”

Mahf turned to face me. “We believe there to be a rogue Belldic commando team in the area,” he said, his voice low and earnest. “They are most likely already on Modhra I, though some may still be offworld. They have come”—he grimaced—“to destroy the coral beds.”

I felt my eyebrows crawling up my forehead. Of all the possible scenarios running through my mind, ecoterrorism was probably the last one that would have occurred to me. “What in the world for?”

“We don’t know,” Mahf said. “An imagined Halkan offense, or perhaps he has simply lost his mental soundness. It began two months ago with the theft of one of the resort’s maintenance submarines. From small bits of evidence, we believe it is hidden somewhere in the cavern complex you visited two days ago.”