The Domino Pattern

others.”

“He didn’t get along with the others?”

“I had that impression,” Kennrick said. “But it’s just an impression. Like I said, if there was trouble between them they probably wouldn’t confide in me. But it makes sense that if he had trouble with me, he might have had trouble with the others, too.”

“Perhaps,” I said. Though privately I could easily see how someone could love his fellow man and still not like Kennrick. “I’ll try to sound him out about that later.”

The outer restroom door was still closed when we reached it. I considered going inside and seeing if I could figure out which stall Terese was in, decided she would probably take violent offense if I tried, and found a place by the door where I could lean against the wall and cultivate patience. Taking his cue from me, Kennrick found a spot of his own a little farther up the car and did likewise.

Patience is always rewarded. A couple of minutes later the door opened and Terese stepped out. She looked a little pale, which meant that when she reddened with anger at seeing me standing there her color came out just about right. “Good morning, Ms. German,” I said, stepping into her path.

I expected her to try to push her way around me. Instead, she fired a withering glare in my direction, spun a hundred eighty degrees, and headed forward at the fastest walk she could manage without actually breaking into a jog. By the time I recovered from my surprise at her sudden about-face, she was into the vestibule and out of sight.

“Well, that’s inconvenient,” Kennrick growled.

“Relax,” I soothed him. “Where’s she going to go on a Quadrail?” I looked hack at the restroom door as Bayta emerged. “What’s the verdict?” I asked her.

“She was throwing up,” Bayta said. “I don’t know how bad it was—she wouldn’t let me help her.”

Kennrick swore under his breath. “So she’s definitely sick.” he said. “Compton, this has gone way beyond serious.”

“Relax,” I advised him. eyeing the vestibule door and thinking back to that last view I’d had of Terese’s face. In my experience, people with serious illnesses usually didn’t have the mental and emotional strength to spare for that level of annoyance. At least not against relative strangers.

“Because if you were wrong about the cadmium, and the Shorshians had something contagious—”

“I said relax,” I repeated, more firmly this time. “Let’s not start a panic until it’s absolutely necessary, all right?”

He made a face, but nodded. “So what do we do?”

“We go after her,” I said. “Either she’s on her way to the shower/laundry car, which is unlikely since she hasn’t got a change of clothing with her, or else she’s headed for the dining car for something to settle her stomach.”

“Fine,” Kennrick asked in a tone of overstrained patience. “So can we go?”

In answer, I took Bayta’s arm and headed for the vestibule. Assuming Terese kept up the same pace that she’d left here with, by the time she reached the archway into the third-class dining car she would have quick-walked for most of three long Quadrail cars. All that exercise, plus her stomach trouble, should take some of the starch out of her and make her a little easier to question.

We walked through the shower/laundry car, then the storage car, and finally through the vestibule into the third-class dining car. As with all such cars, the aisle here veered all the way to the right side of the car so as to avoid cutting the dining area in half. There were large, slightly tinted windows in the wall that separated the dining room from the corridor, allowing the patrons to watch those passing by and vice versa. “Any sign of her?” I asked, slowing down as I peered in through the windows.

“Not yet,” Kennrick said. “Maybe she went past and has gone to ground somewhere forward.”

“There,” Bayta said, pointing.

I followed her finger. Terese was standing at the bar at the forward end of the car, talking earnestly to a tall Filly I didn’t recognize. “Anyone seen that Filly before?” I asked.

“No.” Bayta said.

“Me, neither,” Kennrick said. “Does he look a little drunk to you?”

“Not really,” I said. “You two stay out here. Be ready to corral her if she makes another break for it.” Squaring my shoulders, I walked through the archway into the dining area.

I was halfway through the maze of tables and chairs when the Filly detached himself from Terese and headed toward me. “May you be well,” I said in greeting as he got within earshot.

“You will not bother the Human female,” he said, his tone flat and unfriendly.

“I’m not bothering her,” I assured him, coming to a halt. “I just want to ask her a few questions.”

“You will not bother the Human female,” he repeated, his hands bunching into fists as he continued toward me.

I sighed. Apparently, Terese hadn’t come here for something to settle her stomach. She’d come here looking for a white knight to protect her.

And she had apparently found one.

SIX

“Easy, now,” I cautioned, holding my hands out toward the Filly as I reversed direction, backing toward the archway and the corridor beyond. The last thing I wanted was to get involved in a brawl with one of the other passengers. The very last thing I wanted was for that brawl to take place in a dining room.

But the Filly kept coming, the thought of broken tables, crockery, and bones apparently not bothering him in the least. I continued giving way, still making useless soothing noises. The carefully designed privacy acoustics of Quadrail dining cars meant that none of the other patrons could really make out what either of us was saying, but pretty much everyone facing our direction had spotted the gathering storm and had clued in their dining partners. It I’d ever wanted to get beaten to a pulp in front of an audience, I reflected sourly, this was my big chance.

Apparently, Bayta was thinking along the same lines. The kwi snugged away in my pocket tingled as she telepathically activated the weapon.

I could certainly see her point. The Filly probably outweighed me by ten kilos, and while his species wasn’t known for their prowess at unarmed combat, they weren’t complete slouches at it, either. The chance to drop him where he stood was a very tempting proposition.

Unfortunately, the presence of an audience put that option off the table. Using a weapon, even a nonlethal one, on a supposedly weapons-free Quadrail would draw way too much unwelcome attention.

Fortunately, the kwi wouldn’t be necessary. I’d backed up nearly to the archway now, and had finally reached my goal: a small section of empty floor space.

Time to make my move.

“All right, this has gone far enough,” I said firmly, coming to an abrupt halt with my hands still held out in front of me, my palms toward the Filly. “I’m going to question Ms. German, and that’s all there is to it.”

He took the bait. “You will not bother the Human female,” he said, continuing forward and reaching for my left wrist. As he stretched out his arm, I smoothly withdrew mine, bringing it inward toward my chest. He picked up his pace, reaching even more insistently toward me.

And with his complete attention now focused on the wrist that was somehow managing to remain just out of his grasp, I reached across with my right hand, grabbed his hand and bent the wrist in on itself, then snaked my left hand behind his elbow.

An instant later he found himself pinned upright in place, his arm locked vertically at his side, his weight coming up on his toes as I pulled the bent wrist upward and inward. “Now.” I said softly to the long face and startled eyes fifteen centimeters from my own. “I’m going to ask Ms. German a few questions, and then she can go about her business. Is that all right with you?”

For a couple of heartbeats he remained silent. “A few questions only,” he replied at last. “Thank you,” I said.

Releasing his arm, I took a step backward. I was taking something of a risk, I knew—he was uninjured, he still