Judgment at Proteus

TWENTY-FOUR

Terese was ecstatic at the thought of Rebekah joining our little group on the trip back to Yandro. I was a little taken aback by her enthusiasm until I discovered that Rebekah had promised her that the two girls could share a compartment, which meant Terese would have ten glorious days without having to look at either Bayta or me except at mealtimes.

I wasn’t happy about that. Neither was Bayta. But it was clear that this was the deal the Melding was offering, and I could take it or leave it.

We took the transport back to the unfinished station, where the twenty volunteer members of the Melding plus all their coral were distributed among the five tenders we’d seen parked there earlier. The Spiders had meanwhile brought in a sixth tender, which was soon loaded with the five members of my group and the three small crates of Melding coral that I’d asked for.

We gave the other tenders a three-hour head start, which I hoped would be sufficient to slip them past whatever observation net the Shonkla-raa had set up between us and Yandro. Then, with Terese and Rebekah chattering together like a couple of kids—which, of course, they were—we headed out.

We arrived at Sibbrava three and a half hours later. Once again, I’d timed things carefully, and the express train I’d been aiming for was no more than ten minutes out.

Unfortunately, aside from the double compartment that the Spiders routinely held in reserve whenever Bayta and I were in the area, the rest of the compartment car was booked solid. Apparently some major medical conference had just ended, and the first- and second-class sections of the express were bulging with Jurian, Halkan, and Belldic doctors. The latter group, according to the Spiders, had taken three double compartments all by themselves, using the fold-down upper berths as Bayta and I had with Terese to pack themselves two per compartment and four per double. I made a mental note that if I wanted to order any Belldic cuisine on this trip, I’d better grab it quick before everything got snatched up.

Back when we’d left Shorshic space for this end of the galaxy the Spiders had been able to add another compartment car to the train. Unfortunately, here at Sibbrava there was neither the time nor the car available for such a modification. That left half our reserved compartment for Terese and Rebekah, and the other half for Bayta, with ordinary first-class seats for Morse and me.

Bayta didn’t like that a bit, and offered several times to share her side of the compartment with me. Each time I gently but firmly refused. It wasn’t the arrangement I would have picked, but there were certain tactical advantages in having Morse and me separated from Bayta, but still in communication with her via Rebekah and the Modhri/Melding consciousness that she and Morse now shared.

I was careful not to point out that it also gave me a freedom of movement that I wouldn’t have if I was cooped up in a compartment with her.

We boarded, I got Bayta and the girls settled, made sure the crates of coral were secure, then headed back to the first-class coach car. Morse had found our seats, which had started out in opposite rear corners, and had moved them across the car to a spot where we could keep an eye on our fellow passengers and both the front and rear doors. He also gave me a quick head count on our current allies: two walkers in our first-class coach car, one of whom was among the crowd of Jurian doctors returning from the conference, plus eight more in second class who hadn’t been able to find seats in first.

The first day passed uneventfully. I kept an eye out for Riijkhan or any of the other Shonkla-raa whose acquaintance we’d already made, but I didn’t spot any of them. I did see a Filly who looked remarkably like our old friend Scrawny going into one of the compartments when I went forward to escort Bayta and the two girls to dinner. But later that evening, when I got a closer look, I realized it wasn’t him.

I’d expected to sleep badly that first night, stuck out in the open in a coach car. But to my surprise, I actually slept soundly and straight through. It wasn’t until I woke up in the morning that I recognized what my subconscious had already concluded: that the Modhran mind segment in our compartment was on guard, keeping close watch on Morse and me. The only way for the Shonkla-raa to short-circuit that watchfulness would be to take control of the walkers, and for that they would have to use their very obvious and distinctive control tone. I already knew that tone, and it was highly unlikely that I would sleep through it.

The second day also passed without incident. Morse periodically fed me updates from the Modhri, and on my frequent visits to the girls’ double compartment Bayta gave me similar reports from the Spiders. There were several Fillies aboard, with five in particular that I tagged as possible Shonkla-raa. Unfortunately, all five wore the high collars of the bishreol remak, a Filiaelian medical sect, and none of us were able to get a proper look at their throats.

Still, if they were Shonkla-raa, they were keeping their heads down. As the train settled down for the night I began to wonder if the enemy was still on their watch-and-wait game.

Late afternoon on the third day, the watchful waiting came to an abrupt end.

*   *   *

Morse and I had gone to the bar for a pre-dinner drink, and were in the middle of a quiet conversation on general strategy and tactics when he suddenly stiffened. “Uh-oh,” he murmured. “Here we go. One of our possible Shonkla-raa in first has just announced that there’s going to be a birthday celebration in the dining car in ten minutes, and the guest of honor is offering a certificate good for ten thousand free Quadrail light-years to everyone who shows up and offers a toast.”

“Nice,” I said, grimacing. Ten thousand light-years was the equivalent of a week’s journey. Even ultra-rich travelers who thought nothing of dropping hundreds of thousands on first-class Quadrail tickets weren’t likely to pass up a freebie of that magnitude. “They taking him up on it?”

“What do you think?” Morse said grimly. “They’re currently making a mad dash—a civilized mad dash, but a mad dash nonetheless—for the rear door. Do you want the Modhri to keep his two Eyes in there?”

“No, better let them go with the rest of the crowd,” I told him. The fewer potential obstacles to what was about to happen, the better. “Let’s head back and see what the Shonkla-raa have in store for us this time.”

We were nearly to the bar’s exit when the leading edge of first-class passengers appeared, heading past toward the dining half of the car. Rather than try to swim upstream against them, we stayed where we were. The last of them passed, and Morse slipped through the opening into the corridor. “You coming?” he asked.

“Go ahead,” I said. “I’ll catch up.”

A frown flicked across his face. But he nodded and disappeared around the corner as he headed forward.

I turned and hurried back to the server Spider behind the bar counter. “Relay,” I said quietly toward the expressionless gray globe hanging from its seven legs. “Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of their country. Repeat: now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of their country. Acknowledge.”

The Spider hesitated, then dipped his globe in response. “Acknowledge,” he said in his flat voice. Nodding, I turned and hurried back across the bar and down the corridor to the vestibule. I popped the door, crossed the vestibule, popped the far door, and stepped into our coach car.

Morse was waiting for me about twenty meters in, his posture unnaturally stiff. Standing with him were three of the five Fillies we’d tentatively tagged as Shonkla-raa.

Only it wasn’t so tentative anymore. They’d thrown open their high-collar bishreol remak disguises, revealing the telltale Shonkla-raa throats.

And filling the car was the high-pitched whistle I’d heard way too many times recently.

“There you are,” one of the Shonkla-raa said conversationally as I stopped just inside the vestibule door. “Please, come in. The party’s just getting interesting.”

“I’m sure it is,” I said, looking around as I walked slowly toward them. The promise of free Quadrail travel had cleared out the car, all right. Aside from us, the only two passengers still here were a Cimma with his back to us, who seemed to be thoroughly engrossed in the dit-rec drama playing on the display window in front of him, and a thin, elderly Human male sleeping in his chair, a furry blanket on his lap and a matching pillow tucked behind his head. I couldn’t tell if his chair’s music player was running, but if it was I had no doubt that the free travel announcement had missed him completely.

In fact, if the volume was high enough, there was a good chance that whatever unpleasantness the Shonkla- raa were about to unleash would also go unheard. “You realize we were expecting something like this, don’t you?” I said, turning my attention back to the Shonkla-raa.

“For whatever good that preparation has done you,” the Shonkla-raa said, looking around the empty car.