Bayta was silent a moment. “Do you think the Modhri might be involved in all this?”
“That’s definitely my default reflex these days,” I said. “But we need some kind of motive before we start trying to pin this on the Modhri or anyone else.” I cocked an eyebrow. “Why? Is your spider-sense tingling?”
She frowned. “My what?”
“Skip it,” I said, making a mental note to add those dit rec adventures to the list of cultural classics I’d been showing her. “Can you think of some reason why he might want to kill a couple of Shorshians?”
“Not really,” she said. “But I’ve been thinking a lot about him lately. Trying to get into his mind, to understand what he wants.”
“I thought he wanted to take over the galaxy.”
“Yes, but to what end?” she asked. “The Shonkla-raa certainly had a purpose—they wanted him to infiltrate the rebel forces and destroy them from within. But he doesn’t have that purpose anymore. He doesn’t have
“I don’t know,” I said doubtfully. “To me, taking over the galaxy sounds like a pretty solid reason for living.”
“You know what I mean,” Bayta said. “The Modhri isn’t conquering so that he can institute political or economic changes, or even just so he can loot his victims.”
“Okay, so he’s unfocused,” I said. “So what?”
Bayta shook her head. “I keep thinking that he’s like a weapon that’s been left on a shelf,” she said pensively. “A sword, maybe. He can fall off. and he can do a lot of damage on his way down, but he’s still just flailing about without serving a genuine purpose. That has to be frustrating and frightening both.”
“So you’re thinking he might throw up his hands and quit in disgust?” I suggested dryly.
“I’m wondering if he might go insane.”
Something with a lot of cold feet skittered down my spine. “Oh. now
“I’m sorry,” Bayta apologized. “I probably shouldn’t even have brought it up. I just …it’s been bothering me lately.”
“No need to apologize.” I assured her. Privately, I thought the whole idea a bit far-fetched—from what I’d seen of the Modhri, he didn’t strike me as the neurotic type. But I also knew better than to dismiss anything Bayta said without at least considering it. “It’s definitely worth thinking about. Only not right now. Any word from
Bayta’s eyes went distant. “He’s just given Dr. Witherspoon permission to take blood and tissue samples from Master Bofiv.”
“Good,” I said, setting the meal box back on its stack. “Let’s go make sure he does it right.”
“All right.” Bayta hesitated. “
“Removed for storage where?”
“He asked that it be put in one of the baggage cars,” Bayta said. “The Spiders are taking it back there now.”
“Where are they going to put it?” I asked. “They can’t just leave it lying around the aisles. More importantly, how are they going to seal it away from the rest of the train? It’s still four weeks to Venidra Carvo, and things are going to get pretty ripe back there if they don’t do something.”
“They’re constructing an isolation tank where they can store the body,” she said. “They’re also looking into whether they can use the same preservation techniques they use for food.”
I tried to visualize the Spiders freeze-drying Colix’s body, but I’d had enough disturbing images for one night. “Did Strinni say why he wanted Colix’s body moved?”
“Only that he wanted the body to be as much at rest as possible.”
More likely he didn’t want Witherspoon’s scalpel slipping during Bofiv’s autopsy and cutting into his fellow Pathmate by accident. “Whatever,” I said. “Come on. let’s go.”
We left the dining car and headed forward. On the way we passed a pair of conductors carrying the late Master Colix, his body wrapped in one of the dispensary’s thermal blankets. Briefly, I wondered how many people in third class might be awake, and how many of those might recognize the bundle for what it was. But there was nothing I could do about it, so I put the thought out of my mind.
We reached the dispensary to find Dr. Aronobal and the server Spider still standing their quiet vigil over the remaining body. “The Spiders came in a few minutes ago and removed Master Colix’s body,” Aronobal said.
“Yes, we passed them on the way.” I said, peering at Bofiv’s body. It didn’t seem to have been touched in the time Bayta and I had been gone.
“You and your companion speak to the Spiders,” Aronobal said.
It had been phrased as a statement, not a question. “Of course we do,” I said. “Everyone does. We ask them for directions to the dining car, where we can stow our valuables—”
“Not everyone talks to them as you do,” she cut me off, her eyes peering unblinkingly at me down her long nose. “You have a special relationship with them.”
“We just travel a lot,” I assured him. “We’ve gotten to know the Spiders pretty well.”
“Many people travel a lot,” Aronobal countered. “Moreover, Humans have only begun to ride the Quadrails, whereas we of the Filiaelian Assembly have traveled among the stars for centuries. How is it that—?”
She broke off abruptly, and in the fresh silence, I could hear the sound of approaching footsteps. “We will continue this later,” Aronobal said quietly.
A moment later, Witherspoon and Tririn appeared. “
“The Spiders have already taken care of him,” I told him.
“But we only just agreed on that a few minutes ago.” Witherspoon protested. He stepped up to the table, looking around as if expecting Colix’s body to leap out of hiding and say boo.
“The Spiders are extremely efficient,” I said.
“Obviously so.” Witherspoon seemed to brace himself. “Very well. Dr. Aronobal, you undoubtedly have more experience with Shorshic physiology than I do. If you would take the samples, I would be honored to assist you.”
“Your deference is noted,” Aronobal said, inclining her head approvingly. Apparently, this was the sort of servile diplomacy she’d been expecting earlier from Kennrick. Maybe Witherspoon’s humility would redeem the entire Human race a little in her eyes. “In actual fact, I do not have any specialized knowledge in this matter. How often have you performed this type of examination?”
“Thirty or forty times, I suppose,” Witherspoon said. “But I’ve only done it on Humans.”
“Your expertise nevertheless surpasses mine,” Aronobal said. “You may proceed. I will assist.”
Witherspoon glanced at me. took a deep breath, and pulled a pair of gloves from a dispenser beneath the table. “All right,” he said. “Let’s do it.”
I’d seen plenty of dead bodies in the course of my career. Some of them had been spectacularly mangled, and nearly all of them had been pretty bloody. But I’d done my level best to avoid autopsies whenever possible. There was something about the casual, clinical slicing up of a body that bothered me in a way that even the aftermath of thudwumper rounds didn’t.
Fortunately, this one wasn’t as bad as I’d feared it would be. Witherspoon did the job quickly and efficiently, mostly just nicking off small skin samples or using a hypo to draw blood and other fluids. Only twice did he dig deeper than skin level, and in those instances I was able to keep my focus on the samples as he slid them into the small vials Aronobal held open tor him.
Five minutes later, it was over. “That’s it,” Witherspoon said as he set the last sealed vial into the sample case and handed the Spider the hypos and scalpels he’d been using. “Do you want to bring your spectroscopic analyzer here, or would it be easier if Dr. Aronobal and I accompany you to your compartment?”
“Neither, actually,” I told him as I took the sample case. “Bayta and I can handle it.”
Witherspoon threw a frown at Aronobal. “That’s not proper procedure,” he warned.
