The Third Lynx

They had. The next two pages of the file listed Stafford's relatives, closest friends, classmates, and fellow lugeboard junkies. It was, I noted cynically, a considerably longer list than Kunstler's own. Apparently there were social advantages to being only slightly obscenely rich.

The three pages after that included Stafford's favorite hot spots, on Earth and elsewhere, a list of every place he'd visited during his wanderings, plus every travel, work, and play habit anyone had been able to statistically dredge up from his life's history. 'I can't believe how fast they pulled all this together.' Bayta commented when we finally reached the end.

'They've had five weeks since he and the Lynx disappeared,' I reminded her. 'This wasn't something they came up with after Morse messaged them that Kunstler had been murdered.'

Bayta's eyes went slightly unfocused. 'Two drudges have arrived outside with the luggage we left aboard the last Quadrail,' she reported.

'Good,' I said. 'Go let them in—I'll be with you in a minute. Just leave the bags in the waiting room, though, until I've had a chance to look them over.'

She nodded and left. Turning off Morse's reader, I returned the data chip to the case and took both of them back to his jacket. I slid the reader into its tailored pocket, and returned the case to its own slot.

I had turned toward the door when Morse's voice croaked at me from the bed. 'That does it, Compton,' he said. 'You're under arrest.'

SEVEN :

I turned back and looked at Morse. His face was still pale, but there was nothing uncertain about the disbelieving anger in his eyes. 'Welcome back to the living,' I said pleasantly.

'Did you hear me?' he rasped. 'You're under arrest.'

'I heard you,' I confirmed. 'Unfortunately, you still have the same jurisdictional problem you had at Bellis.'

'Not at all,' he countered. His voice was sounding stronger now. 'This medical facility is Human-owned and Human-run. That makes it Human territory.'

'An interesting interpretation,' I agreed. 'However, unless you know of an arraignment court on the premises, you still have to take me through Spider territory to get me to a shuttle.'

'The Spiders can—' He broke off, twisting his wrist around and looking at his watch. 'Bloody hell,' he snarled, fumbling for the call button beside him on the rail. He squeezed it and then swung his legs over the side of the bed, pushing himself up into a sitting position. He spotted his shoes beside the bed and leaned over to grab them.

And toppled straight to the floor.

I was ready for it, and managed to grab one of his arms in time to keep his head from bouncing off the tile. 'What happened?' the doctor said sharply from the doorway.

'Nothing,' Morse's slightly muffled voice came before I could answer. 'I'm all right.'

'He tried to pass out,' I told the doctor. 'Almost made it, too.'

'Help me get him back on the bed,' the doctor said.

Together, he and I helped Morse back into a prone position on the bed. Morse fought us the whole way. 'Let me alone,' he insisted. 'I have to leave.'

'You'll leave the minute you're ready,' the doctor countered firmly. 'Not before.'

'Then give me something to speed up the process,' Morse demanded. 'I'm already an hour behind the train I'm supposed to be on.'

'And, what, you're going to chase after it on a dit rec western handcar?' I asked.

Morse tried his dagger-glaring technique, but with his eyes still woozy it wasn't very effective. 'Mr. Compton is right,' the doctor said. 'There'll be other trains.'

'Doctor, I need whatever you can do,' Morse said, pitching his voice low and earnest and reasonable. 'I can finish recovering once I'm on the train. I'm a EuroUnion government agent, and I have to get out of here.'

The doctor looked at me. 'He is, and he probably does,' I confirmed.

The doctor grimaced, but nodded. 'Wait here.' Turning, he left the room.

'Don't think this is helping,' Morse warned me. 'Even if you manage to slide on Kunstler's murder, I can still get you for theft of official ESS property and data. The penalty for that is eight to ten in the Minsk Four facility.'

'That's good to know,' I said. 'I'll be sure to mention that to the next pickpockets I run into.'

An uncertain frown edged across his forehead. 'What are you talking about?'

'I'm talking about three Halkas out in the station, one of whom called your name, thus enabling two of his buddies to trip you up and knock you cold, thus enabling them to steal this.' I snagged his jacket and pulled out the data chip case. 'Luckily for you, I got there in time to steal it back. No, no—don't thank me. That sunny smile of gratitude is all the thanks I need.'

That one got the daggers up and running again. 'Compton, if you think—'

'Hey, relax,' I interrupted what would probably have been an impressive threat. 'Believe it or not, we really are on the same side. Besides, Deputy UN Director Losutu has given me a clean bill of health.'

'That might mean something if I actually cared about Losutu's opinions,' Morse growled. 'As it happens, I don't.'

I shook my head and dropped the case onto the bed beside him. 'You know, Morse, it's exactly this kind of simmering rage that starts popping capillaries when you hit fifty. Are you just mad that you lost your bird dog?'

'My what?'

'The late Mr. Kunstler,' I said. 'You were following him in hopes that he'd lead you to Daniel Stafford and the Nemuti Lynx.'

'I was escorting Lady Dorchester,' he corrected stiffly.

'Whom you dropped like an election-year tax hike the second Kunstler was murdered,' I countered. 'Since when does art theft fall under ESS's jurisdiction, anyway?'

For a dozen heartbeats he stared at me in silence. I was starting to wonder if he'd fallen asleep with his eyes open when he stirred and picked up the data chip case I'd dropped beside him. 'My reader, please?' he asked.

I pulled it out and handed it to him. 'It's the last file on the lower right-hand chip,' I said helpfully.

In silence he inserted the chip, keyed on the decryption program, and scrolled down to Losutu's vote of confidence.

He was still studying it when the doctor returned with a hypo. 'This is a mild stimulant,' he told Morse as he gave him the injection. 'It'll keep you going for an hour or two, but once it wears off you'll find yourself exactly where you are right now. Maybe even a little worse.'

'That's fine,' Morse said. 'Like I said, I can sleep all I need to on the train.'

'And here's a packet of QuixHeals,' the doctor added, handing him a package. 'Give the shot a few minutes to take effect, and you should be able to get to your train all right.'

'Thank you,' Morse said. 'You wouldn't happen to have a schedule handy, would you?'

'I can do better than that,' I offered. 'Doc, did you see a young lady out in the waiting room?'

'The one looking through her carrybags?' the doctor asked. 'Yes, she's still here.'

I grimaced. I'd told Bayta I'd check for Modhran surprises. 'Ask her to come in here, will you?'

'Wait a second,' Morse growled. 'It says your bona fides are in place, not anyone else's.'

'Just ask her to come in,' I repeated to the doctor.