Night Train to Rigel

The Tlexiss Cafe was one of the half dozen restaurants serving the Jurskala Station. Unlike the others, it boasted an open-air section dressed up with trellises and arbors like something you’d find in a EuroUnion countryside. McMicking led the way between a pair of potted bushes, pausing just inside to wait for me to catch up.

“Compton,” he greeted me as I came up to him. The quavering uncertainty was gone from his voice and his manner as if they’d never been there. “Mr. Hardin would like a word with you.”

“Of course,” I said, trying to sound calm. So Hardin was here. Bracing myself, I stepped between the bushes and into the cafe.

It wasn’t a normal mealtime by the station’s clock, but eight of the twenty tables were nevertheless occupied by a variety of beings sipping or eating various drinks and foodstuffs. Seated at the far end beneath an arching latticework arbor laced with delicate purple vines and brilliant red and purple flowers was Larry Cecil Hardin.

Even by Earth’s perpetually starstruck standards, Hardin stood head and shoulders above the crowd. He’d started life as an inventor of high-end precision optics and optical switches, had taken up a business role in order to market his creations, and had managed to hit a couple of economic waves that had made him a more or less overnight billionaire. Never one for laurel-resting, he’d kept at it, and after another few business cycles and a few more small but timely inventions he hit the one trillion mark. After that, there’d been nowhere to go but up.

No one actually knew how rich he was, except possibly Hardin himself, and he wasn’t talking. But that didn’t stop the media from speculating on it. And Hardin played the game right back at them, inviting them in to see his planes and cars and antique motorcycles while at the same time playing it all very coy and modest.

The irony of it, at least for me, was that there were at least eight men and women in the Confederation who were richer than he was. But he was the one the media had latched onto, so he was the one everyone knew. A place like Jurskala Station, where humans were barely even noticed, let alone lionized, was probably an interesting change of pace for him.

Hardin was the sort who liked to get in the first word. Perversely I decided to beat him to it. “Mr. Hardin,” I said, nodding as I sat down uninvited across the table from him. “This is a pleasant surprise. How did you find me?”

Behind me, McMicking made a soft noise in the back of his throat. But Hardin didn’t even twitch. “There’s only one exit from the Grakla Spur,” he said calmly. “Once I knew you’d been there, it was a simple matter of having my people check all inbound Quadrails until you showed up.”

“Of course,” I said. “I hope you didn’t come all this way just for me.”

“I had other business to attend to,” he said, his eyes and voice cooling a few degrees. “Tell me, did you think I wouldn’t notice if you slipped off to a high-class resort for a few days?”

So he’d taken time out of his busy schedule to keep up-to-date track of the credit tag he’d given me. I’d been afraid of that. “That was business,” I said.

“My business?”

“Of course,” I said striving for snow-pure innocence. “What other business could I be on?”

“I don’t know,” he countered. “Maybe something having to do with that dead man at the curb the night you left?”

I looked up at McMicking, a piece clicking into place. “So that was you standing over the body as I was leaving,” I said.

He inclined his head in an affirmative. “You should have told me about that in advance,” he said. “It could have been handled much more quietly.”

“I didn’t know in advance,” I said, looking back at Hardin. “What, you think I killed him?”

“You tell me,” he invited. “All I know is that there seem to be an extraordinary number of dead bodies in your wake. First the kid in New York, then those two Halkas at the Kerfsis transfer station—”

“Those weren’t my fault, either,” I interrupted.

“Of course not,” he said. “And now I’m hearing reports of some sort of disturbance at that resort you were just at?”

I hesitated, wishing I knew exactly what those reports had said. Had they mentioned a pair of Humans, or just Fayr and his Bellidos? “That wasn’t really my fault, either,” I hedged.

“Of course not,” Hardin said. “You know, Compton, when I hired you I thought it was understood that you were to keep a low profile. Is this what you consider a low profile?”

I spread my hands, palms upward. “I know, and I’m sorry,” I apologized. “Sometimes things happen that are out of anyone’s control.”

Hardin exhaled heavily. “I’d like to believe that, Frank,” he said. “But the damage has already been done.” He held out his hand. “I’ll take that credit tag now, and all the equipment I gave you. I trust you can find your own way home?”

I stared at him. “You’re joking,” I said. “You came all the way out here just to fire me?”

“As I said, I have other business out this way,” Hardin said, his hand still outstretched. “Finding you was just an extra bonus. My credit tag?”

“I am making progress,” I insisted. Oddly enough, it was even true.

“I’m sure you are,” he said. “But I’m starting to wonder whether it is, in fact, the progress I hired you to make. You see, even while you’re running up bills at fancy resorts, I’ve noticed you’re not using my credit tag to pay for your Quadrail travel.”

I suppressed a grimace. I should have known he’d spot that, too. “I’d have thought you’d be pleased that I’d found a way to save you a little money.”

“What pleases me is to have someone who’s supposed to be in my pocket actually stay there,” he said. “When a person starts climbing out on his own, he gets assisted the rest of the way. My credit tag and equipment?”

I grimaced. But there was nothing for it. “Fine,” I said, fishing the credit tag out of my pocket. Ignoring his outstretched hand, I dropped it on the table between us, then added my watch, reader, and gimmicked data chips to the pile.

“Thank you,” he said, pulling everything to his side of the table. “Good day, Mr. Compton.”

For a long moment I considered pressing my case. I still needed all those items, especially the credit tag. And though Hardin had no way of knowing it, I could guarantee he would never, ever find another investigator with my current qualifications.

But I knew it would be just so much wasted breath. And in the meantime, I had more important things to worry about than my professional pride. Standing up, I turned my back on him and headed back across the cafe, trying not to think about the long and expensive torchliner trip from Terra Station to Earth that I no longer had the funds to pay for. Maybe I’d wind up going to the Bellidosh Estates-General with Fayr, after all.

I was nearly to the cafe exit when I discovered McMicking was still at my side. “What do you want?” I growled.

“Just escorting you back to your platform,” he said mildly. “Why? Don’t you like my company?”

I didn’t, but since he already knew that there wasn’t much point in saying so. “He’s making a mistake, you know,” I said instead, trying one last time.

“That’s possible,” he agreed. “Happens to all of us. Speaking of mistakes, you haven’t been kicking dust at the Halkan Peerage lately, have you?”

I looked sideways at him. “Why do you say that?”

“No reason,” he said. “I’ve just been noticing there are a lot of Halkas out here in those three-colored robes the Peerage always wears.”

“Really,” I said, my throat tightening. I’d been assuming that if the Modhri wanted to make a move, he would use the local Juriani to do it. It had never occurred to me that he might nudge a group of Halkas into coming down to Jurskala for the occasion. “Maybe it’s a convention.”

“Or not,” he said, and I could feel his eyes on me. People like McMicking had a keen sense of atmosphere, and he was clearly picking up my sudden tension. “I count at least five different color combinations, with five to ten Halkas in each group. This have anything to do with that resort incident Mr. Hardin mentioned?”

“Could be,” I conceded, craning my neck over the crowd. I could see Bayta and Fayr ahead at our platform now, both of them looking around for me.