Odd Girl Out

name—but to me they were a dime a dozen, and the Quadrail system had a billion of them. If I accidentally wrecked this one, the Chahwyn could take it out of my pay. I got a grip on the edge of my stack and rolled off the edge. As my legs swung around, I pulled up and then let go of the stack, sailing in a short arc toward the door.

To land feet-first squarely on top of the Spider's central metal globe.

I had no idea how strong stationmaster legs were, and I half expected him to instantly collapse under my weight, which would have helped cushion my landing but not much more. To my surprise, his legs instead absorbed the impact with ease, lowering the globe and me maybe a meter and a half before coming to a controlled stop. I had just a glimpse of startled Jurian faces, and then the Spider's legs flexed again, and I found myself being catapulted in another low arc toward the door.

The Modhri finally broke his stunned paralysis and the two walkers lunged toward me. But it was too late. I hit the floor, slapped the release, and was through and into the vestibule before they'd even gotten around the Spider's slightly splayed-out legs. I hit the release on the far end of the vestibule, and a second later was back in the third- class car.

The passengers were still in the process of returning to their seats after the fire scare, and I found myself in the role of a salmon on his annual upstream swim. Fortunately, a lot of the passengers were apparently still in the dining car, and the aisle wasn't nearly as crowded as it could have been. I was out of the car before any of the walkers reappeared from behind me.

To my lack of surprise, I also noted as I passed that the seats where the whiffer had been were still unoccupied.

Bayta was sitting stiffly on the edge of my bed when I finally made it back to our double compartment. 'There you are,' she said, some of the stiffness going out of her back as I entered and locked the door behind me. 'I was starting to worry.'

'As well you should have,' I said, motioning her off the bed and sitting down in her place. With the adrenaline rush long past, my body was feeling the painful effects of my extended playtime on top of all those cargo islands. 'The Modhri's finally made his move. The smoke bomb was just a diversion to let him slip a couple of walkers into the baggage car and make off with our crate.'

'What do you mean, make off with it?' Bayta asked. 'You mean he opened it?'

'No, I mean he picked the damn thing up and moved it,' I said, as I took off my shoes. 'Where's Rebekah?'

'Asleep in the other compartment,' Bayta said, nodding toward the mostly closed partition. 'Where did he move it to?'

'Into the second baggage car, I assume,' I said, easing my legs up onto the bed and carefully stretching sore muscles and joints. 'At least, that's the one he's locked me out of.'

'He locked you—?' Bayta broke off, frowning. 'Which door exactly did he lock?'

'Front door of the middle baggage car, like I said,' I told her. 'Why?'

'Because that's not possible,' she said. 'There aren't any locks on those doors.'

I stared up at her, trying to visualize the way Quadrail doors operated. If there were no actual locks, then she was right—there wasn't any way to simply brace or block or jam the doors closed. 'Could the walkers have been physically holding them closed, then?' I suggested doubtfully. 'Bracing their hands on the—well, I don't know. Bracing their hands somehow.'

'Not unless they had the strength of a drone or drudge,' she said. 'The door motors are quite strong, and they're sealed where no one can get at them.'

'What about a stationmaster?' I asked.

'What about them?' she asked. 'I doubt they're strong enough, either. Besides, there aren't any of them aboard.'

'Sure there are,' I said. 'There's one, anyway. He was in the last third-class car, watching the conductors deal with the whiffer.'

Bayta's eyes went unfocused for a few seconds. 'No,' she said firmly. 'The Spiders say there aren't any stationmasters aboard.'

A chill ran up my back. 'You have the kwi?' I asked, swinging my legs back over the side of my bed and grabbing my shoes.

'Right here,' Bayta said, patting her pocket. 'What's going on?'

'I don't know,' I told her, putting on my shoes. 'Okay, I'll take it,' I said when I'd finished.

'Should I wake Rebekah?' she asked, handing me the kwi.

'No, let her sleep,' I said, sliding the weapon into place around my right-hand knuckles. 'Come on.'

Bayta's eyes widened. 'You want both of us to go?'

'I can't fire the kwi without you there to activate it,' I reminded her as patiently as I could. 'Without you, it makes a fair paperweight, but that's about all.'

'What about Rebekah?'

'She'll be fine,' I assured her. 'Just warn the conductors to keep a close eye on our compartments.'

'But—'

'Bayta, the Modhri has at least four walkers aboard this train, plus whatever he's got here in first class,' I interrupted her tartly. 'Rebekah will have a locked door between her and whatever trouble he feels like making. All I'll have is you and the kwi. Now, come on.'

Glaring at me, her lips pressed tightly together, Bayta stepped silently to my side. Giving the corridor outside a quick check, I led the way out.

The Modhri was apparently through making trouble for the day Bayta and I made it back to the last third-class car without so much as an odd look from anyone. Not even the four Juri-ani I'd met in the baggage car gave us more than an idle glance as we passed their seats in the last third-class car.

But then, that was how the Modhri worked his magic puppets. It was entirely possible that all four of them thought they'd been dozing in their seats the whole time they were actually chasing me, and were even now sitting there wondering why they felt so tired and achy.

Nowhere along the way did we spot the stationmaster.

We maneuvered through the twisty passageways to the rear of the first baggage car, and I touched the release to open the door into the vestibule. 'That's the one,' I told Bayta, pointing at the door leading into the next car.

She stepped in for a closer look, putting one hand against the side of the vestibule for balance. 'It looks all right to me,' she said.

'Except that it doesn't open,' I said. Reaching past her, I pushed the release to demonstrate.

And without any fuss whatsoever, the door slid open.

For a long moment we just stood there, side by side in the cramped space of the vestibule, gazing through the open doorway into another maze of safety-webbed crate islands. 'It doesn't open?' Bayta asked at last, her voice flat.

'Well, it didn't open,' I growled as the door reached the end of its timed cycle and slid shut. I reached past Bayta and touched the release, and again the door slid open.

'I'll take your word for it,' Bayta said diplomatically. 'Now what?'

'First thing we do is find our crate,' I said. Sliding past her, I stepped into the car and headed down the twisty path. With only a slight hesitation, Bayta followed.

I'd been wrong. The first thing we found wasn't our crate. The first thing we found, just around the first curve in the pathway, was a pair of Halkas.

Dead ones.

'What happened?' Bayta asked, her voice shaking a little as I knelt beside the bodies. No matter how many times death intruded on our lives, she never seemed to get completely used to it.

'No obvious marks; no signs of a struggle,' I said, lifting one of the victims' heads for a closer look at the eyes and mouth. There was some kind of mucus at the corners of his mouth and eyes, I saw, which probably meant something. Unfortunately, I didn't have the slightest idea what. 'Hopefully, some doctor at Jurskala Station will have time for an autopsy.'

'What do you do here, Humans?' a voice demanded from behind me.

I spun around, jumping back to my feet as I did so. Three of the four Juriani who'd accosted me in the other