The Third Lynx

There were three of them, all Halkas, grouped loosely together in the corridor like watchful statues a few meters past the door marked 12. The biggest of them was an unexpectedly familiar face: the Halka on the Bellis-bound Quadrail who'd pulled me away from Kunstler's dying body and tossed me down the Quadrail corridor.

One of the other two was the fifth walker from Jurskala, the one who'd conveniently disappeared during our mad chase after Pyotr Gerashchenko. Apparently, the Modhri was consolidating his best forces here. Probably not a good sign. Watching the Halkas out of the corner of my eye, I opened the door and went inside.

Public viewing facilities like this normally included a variety of room sizes, ranging from those suitable for single viewers to larger ones that could accommodate groups of ten to fifteen. Room Twelve was in the middle of that range, with five large seats arranged in a semicircle around the dit rec display. At first I thought the room was deserted, but as I walked around one end of the semicircle I saw there was a single middle-aged Human lying along the farthest of the seats, his head pillowed on one armrest and his knees angled somewhat awkwardly over the other. There was a silk scarf across his face, as if there to shield his eyes from the dim light, covering everything down to his upper lip. His mouth was slightly open, his breathing the slow and methodical rhythm of a man in deep sleep. Playing to itself on the display was a classic Harold Lloyd dit rec silent comedy.

'Nice choice,' I commented quietly as I continued around the end of the seats and came to a halt facing the sleeping man. 'A silent dit rec means no annoying soundtrack to interfere with your friend's nap.'

'Thank you,' the man said.

Though not really the man, of course. The stiffness of his shoulders, the subtle tightness of voice and jaw and throat muscles, were all I needed to know that I was once again speaking directly to the Modhri.

'You're welcome,' I said. 'You're both missing a good dit rec, though.'

'He needed the sleep,' the Modhri said. 'And I find Human humor tedious.' He stretched his arms once, the gesture somehow making him look even less Human than he already did. Unhooking his legs from the chair arm, he swiveled himself back up into a sitting position. The scarf covering his face started to slip off, but he got a hand up in time and readjusted it back into place. 'Please; sit down.'

'That's okay—I've been sitting all day,' I said, staying where I was. Sitting in any of the remaining chairs would mean putting my back to the door, which I wasn't interested in doing. 'What did you want to talk about?'

'The third Lynx, formerly owned by the Human Kunstler,' he said. 'I want it.'

'So I've heard,' I said. 'What I don't understand is what kind of appeal an old Nemuti sculpture can possibly have for a galaxy-spanning supermind like you.'

'They intrigue me.' He paused, as if searching for the right phrase. 'Perhaps they will go well together on my mantel.'

'I thought you said you didn't like Human humor.'

'I said it was tedious,' he corrected. 'I didn't say it wasn't a useful tool. What would it take to persuade you to deliver the Lynx to me?'

'Number one: I've seen how trustworthy your promises are,' I said. 'Number two: you couldn't afford me even if I did trust you. And number three: I haven't got the Lynx.'

'But you know where it is,' he said. 'That puts you ahead of the fools who seek the Human Stafford on Ian- apof.'

'You don't think he's there?'

'You don't think he's there,' the Modhri countered. 'Else you would be preparing to travel to the inner system with them.'

'Who says?' I countered. 'Maybe I just don't fancy an eight-day torchliner trip in the company of people who don't like me. Maybe I'm planning on taking a later torchliner, or renting myself a private torchyacht.'

'Or maybe you already know where the Human Stafford is.' He cocked his head. 'Tell me, do you find the Human Auslander an attractive female?'

'I hadn't really noticed,' I said, trying to keep the sudden tension out of my voice. There was only one direction he could be going with this particular change of topic.

'Really,' the Modhri said interestedly. 'I would have said she is. Certainly judging by my host's reaction to her. She is also somewhat younger than you, I believe. Like most species, I've found Humans to be especially protective toward their young.'

'That only applies to children,' I told him. Probably a waste of effort, but I had to try. 'Ms. Auslander is an adult. Who, I might add, can't tell you anything about Stafford that you don't already know.'

'Yet her presence might be useful in bringing him into the open.'

'Stafford's on the run,' I reminded him. 'He's going to be suspicious of anyone who shows up with unknown friends in tow. Even Ms. Auslander.'

'So she is truly of no use to me?' The Modhri shrugged. 'Pity. Then I suppose I might as well kill her.'

'Hardly seems worth the effort,' I said, keeping my voice even. If anything happened to Penny, there was no way in hell that Morse wouldn't find a way to pin it on me. 'Besides, vengeance is for the weak and smallminded. That hardly applies to you.'

'You flatter me,' he said. 'Still, you're right: I kill only when necessary. But perhaps in this case it is necessary. Why do you think I have my host's face covered this way?'

I shrugged. The answer was pretty obvious, with some ominous implications. 'I assumed it was because you really don't like Human dit rec comedies,' I improvised.

'Come now, Compton,' he chided. 'You surely know better than that. I still have use of this Eye, and don't wish his identity to be compromised by your sight.'

'Ah,' I said, as if I hadn't already figured that out. 'He's one of your spies in the UN, I suppose?'

He gave me what was probably intended to be a sly smile. 'Please. No one gives away information for free. But I will trade you his identity for the Lynx.'

I snorted. 'And then suicide him before we can get anything of value from him? No thanks.'

'Yet therein lies my dilemma,' he said. 'It may be that the Human Auslander saw this Eye's face. In that case, killing her would not be vengeance but a necessary act of self-preservation.'

'Did she see his face?'

'It may be,' he repeated.

I puffed out a breath of air, the small sane part of my mind appreciating the neat little box the Modhri had put me in. If Penny had indeed seen the hidden face, the Modhri genuinely would be justified in killing her, at least from his point of view.

Of course, she was still on the station, which meant that Bayta and the Spiders still had a chance of finding her before the Modhri could do anything drastic. But even if they could, the Modhri had the advantage in position and recon setup, and it was a long way back to Earth. If he really wanted Penny dead there was probably no way any of us could stop him.

Which meant her life was now squarely in my hands, which was clearly where the Modhri wanted it. 'I already told you I don't have the Lynx,' I said.

'I believe you,' he said. 'But you do know where the Human Stafford is. I would be willing to trade the female's life for that information.'

'First bring Ms. Auslander here,' I said. 'When I see she's all right, I'll tell you.'

For a moment the faceless face studied me through the filmy silk. 'And then?'

'Then we say good-bye, Ms. Auslander goes skiing with her friends, and you and I race to see which of us can get to Stafford first.'

He smiled again. It was even more grotesque this time. 'With the Spiders who control the Quadrail as your allies? I think not.'

Briefly, I wondered what his reaction would be if he knew the Spiders had already fired me. Probably best not to bring that up. 'You want me to stay here, then?'

'We will go find the Human Stafford together,' he said. 'You and the female, with my Arms accompanying you. She will be useful as leverage.'

'Against whom?' I asked. 'I already told you she can't help pry Stafford out of hiding.'

'Not leverage against him,' he said. 'Leverage against you.'

Behind him, the door opened and Penny appeared, stumbling in as if some unseen person had given her a shove. 'Mr. Compton!' she said as she recovered her balance. 'What's going on? They said I couldn't leave—'