The Domino Pattern

been pretty nervous, too.

“There was nothing dangerous in the food,” the server said in his flat Spider voice.

Every head in the room turned at that one. Servers were usually quiet, unassuming little Spiders, with a normal conversational range that was limited to asking a dining car patron what he wanted for lunch or telling a barfly that, sadly, the train was completely out of Jack Daniel’s. To have one of them volunteer information, especially information like this, was unheard of.

Kennrick recovered his voice first. “So you say,” he countered. “I’d want some actual proof of that.”

“What about something one of the group brought aboard?” I asked. “Some foodstuff that maybe wasn’t packaged properly and went bad?”

“I suppose that’s possible,” Witherspoon said. “Bacteria-generated toxins can certainly be nasty enough. But it’s hard to imagine Master Colix or Master Bofiv eating something that was obviously tainted.”

“Which makes it all the more urgent that we get an analysis of the victims’ blood and tissue,” I said. “Until we know which poison was responsible, there’s no way to backtrack it and figure out where it came from.”

“And how do you intend to do that?” Kennrick demanded. “Di-Master Strinni has already said no autopsies.”

“No, di-Master Strinni said no autopsy on Master Colix,” I corrected. “He hasn’t said anything about Master Bofiv.”

“And why would he—?” Kennrick broke off. “You’re right,” he said, sudden interest in his voice. “Master Bofiv wasn’t on the same Path di-Master Strinni is.”

“Which means he might be willing to let us work on Master Bofiv,” I said.

“It’s worth a try,” Kennrick agreed. “Go ahead. We’ll wait here.”

“You’re the one who knows him,” I reminded him.

“You’re the one who knows how to wake him up,” he countered .

“I’ve already had to do this twice,” I said.

“Once,” Kennrick corrected. “You didn’t actually wake up Master Bofiv.”

“What is the matter with you two?” Witherspoon snapped “There are people lying dead here.”

“And I don’t want to be the one to break that news to a business associate,” Kennrick said coolly. “It was Compton’s idea. He can do it.”

Witherspoon rumbled something under his breath. “Oh, for—never mind. I’ll do it.”

He stripped off his examination gloves, tossing them onto the dispensary counter. With a final glare at me, he strode toward the doorway.

He’d made it halfway there when the obvious problem belatedly caught up with him. “Only I can’t, can I?” he growled with frustration and embarrassment. “Di-Master Strinni is in first class.”

“I think that in this case the conductors will be willing to pass you through,” I said.

“You will be permitted,” the server confirmed. “A conductor will meet you in the rearmost first-class car and accompany you to di-Master Strinni’s seat.”

“Thank you.” Witherspoon said. He got two more steps, then once again hesitated. “Perhaps, Master Tririn, you would accompany me?” he asked, turning to the remaining Shorshian.

Tririn looked at Kennrick, then back at Witherspoon. [Very well,] he said. He murmured something to Aronobal that I couldn’t catch; then he and Witherspoon left the room and headed forward.

That left Kennrick, Aronobal, Bayta, and me. Plus the Spider, of course. “Well, that went well,” I commented.

“He’ll learn,” Kennrick said cynically, his gaze lingering on the empty doorway. “Dr. Witherspoon, I mean. Everyone thinks dealing with Shorshians is a walk down the escalator. But he’ll learn.”

He looked at Aronobal. “But I don’t have to tell you that, do I?” he went on. “The Filiaelian Assembly has been dealing with them for at least six hundred years now.”

“I have never had trouble with the Shorshic people,” Aronobal said diplomatically.

“Then you’re the exception,” Kennrick said. “Half my job seems to consist of smoothing those waters.” He turned back to me. “So what now? We wait until they get back?”

“Unless you want to risk Strinni’s wrath by starting before the opening bell,” I said.

He grimaced. “No, thanks.” He started to say something else, but instead gave a wide yawn. “Hell with this. I’ll be in my compartment if you need me.”

“On your way, you might consider briefing the Filiaelians in your party about the situation,” I suggested as he headed for the door.

“Forget it,” he said. “You think waking up Shorshians with this kind of news is a bad idea, you should try it with Filiaelians.” His lip twitched and he looked back at Aronobal. “At least with santra-rank Filiaelians,” he amended.

Aronobal inclined her head but said nothing. Kennrick held his pose for a moment, probably trying to think of some other way to apologize further without looking like either a boor or an idiot, then gave up and looked back at me instead. “Call me if you learn anything.”

With that, he escaped into the corridor. I drifted to the doorway, arriving just in time to see the vestibule door leading into the next car close behind him.

“He is not very diplomatic.” Aronobal said darkly. “I am surprised that someone chose him to manage dealings with more civilized beings.”

The insult had clearly been directed at Kennrick, but I found myself wincing a little anyway. Things that smudged one Human had a tendency to smudge all of us. “He may be better when he’s not woken up in the middle of the night to deal with multiple deaths,” I suggested.

Aronobal gazed down her long face at me, her nose blaze darkening a little. “A well-trained manager should know how to deal with even the unexpected.”

“Maybe he’s not as well-trained as we all might like,” I said, turning to Bayta. “The server said there wasn’t anything in the Shorshians’ food. How sure is he of that?”

“Very sure,” Bayta said firmly. “The packaging was intact, and there’s nothing in the ingredients of any of the Shorshic-Style foods aboard that could be a problem.”

“Unless there was some unexpected contamination during the cooking or packaging process,” I said. “Maybe we should check that out. If the Spiders don’t mind, that is.”

From the expression on Bayta’s face, it was clear that the Spiders did, in fact, mind. But she knew better than to have this discussion in front of a stranger. “We can certainly ask.” she said instead. “The third-class dining car is four cars back.”

I nodded and looked at Aronobal. “Keep an eye on Masters Colix and Bofiv, will you?”

“I will,” she said. “You will let me know if you find anything?”

“You’ll be the first,” I promised.

We headed out, turning in the direction of the third-class dining room. I glanced at Bayta’s profile as we walked, noting the stiffness in her expression. “If it helps,” I said quietly, “I don’t actually think this was caused by any negligence on the Spiders’ part.”

“Neither do I,” Bayta said, her voice as stiff as her face.

“But we still have to check it out,” I continued. “If for no other reason than to clear them of any responsibility.”

“That’s not the point,” Bayta said. “The Spiders don’t want passengers getting into their sections of the train.” She sent me a furtive glance. “Not even you.”

“I guess you’ll just have to go to bat for me on this one,” I said.

She gave a soft snort. “I do go to bat for you, Frank,” she said. “More often than you know.”

I studied her profile again, noting the smooth line of her nose, the curve of her cheekbones, and the softness of her skin. That was all most people saw when they looked at her, and while it made for a pleasant enough treat for the eyes, it also effectively hid all the solid stuff below the surface, the character strengths the casual tourist never saw. Intelligence, determination, loyalty, courage—they were all in there, ready to come boiling out whenever they