denying the fact of that destruction, FTLships still occasionally translated back into normal space near the site of the abortive station, and brought back photographs of the exploded spheres, their broken edges curling like the petals of a flower, that were slowly compressing into a new planet for that distant sun.
It was not a pleasant thought, and Heikki shook herself unobtrusively as she reached to pop the door. Fortunately, neither of the others had noticed her momentary preoccupation, and she swung herself out of the jitney with her usual grace. Nkosi’s jitney drew up to the platform behind them, and the pilot levered himself out, then turned back to help Alexieva from the compartment. Heikki lifted a hand in greeting, and glanced back to collect the others.
“Which track, Sten?”
Djuro held up three fingers. Heikki nodded her acknowledgement, and started for the entrance, the others trailing behind.
The station itself was crowded, and there was the usual confusion at the gates while travellers sorted out their tickets and their destinations. Heikki bit back a curse, and gestured with her free hand for Djuro, who held the tickets and had an unfailing eye for the fastest-moving gate, to go ahead of them. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Nkosi put his arm around Alexieva’s waist and pull her close. They negotiated the crowd without difficulty, and were checked only briefly at the gate. The attendant on duty in the overseer’s box didn’t even glance down while the computer scanned their tickets and then opened the padded barrier. They swept through in a group, and the barrier thudded closed again just in time to cut off a skinny girl in bright metallic facepaint. She gave them a cheerful leer, and swung away.
Alexieva frowned, staring after her. “Does that happen often?” she asked.
“Often enough,” Nkosi answered, already turning toward the tunnel-like entrances to the platforms themselves, but the surveyor hung back, staring at the place where the skinny girl had become lost in the crowd.
“But what if she gets through? Does somebody lose their ticket?”
“Sometimes,” Nkosi answered briskly, “but more often not. They—the free riders—always pick on people who don’t know the Loop, so the railroad is willing to give them the benefit of the doubt.”
“It can make you miss your train,” Heikki said dryly. “I think we’d better hurry.”
“You are right,” Nkosi said, contritely, and swept Alexieva ahead of him toward the tunnels.
The sign above the righthand entrance was a steady yellow, the destinations and departure time spelled out in black against it: the string of capsules was at the platform, but passengers were not yet allowed aboard. Heikki led the way through the final arch, past the green-glowing security eyes, and then out onto the platform itself. The capsules lay comfortably in the gravity field, rocking only as the moving air hit them. Heikki glanced at the wall board, reconfirming the standard symbols, and then moved along the platform until she found the section of the train that was marked with the familiar symbols that meant the cars would not be unsealed until they reached EP7. One capsule would hold them all, and she led them past several groups of travellers until she found an unclaimed car.
“We seem to be early,” Nkosi said, with a grin.
“Better that than late,” Heikki retorted, and the big man laughed.
“True enough. Shall I fetch supplies for the trip?”
Heikki glanced at the chronodisplay in her lens—fifteen minutes still to boarding—and then manipulated the bezel to find the schedule she had downloaded to the lens’ memory. The entire trip would take several hours, what with the intermediate stops and transfers, and she wished she had thought to download the files from her newsservice. “Go ahead,” she said aloud. “Would you get me a copy of the lastest techfax, if it’s in?”
“Of course,” Nkosi answered, and looked at the others. “May I fetch anything for the rest of you?”
“Piperaad,” Djuro said, naming a favorite snack. Nkosi nodded, and headed off to intercept the slow-moving sales van that was making its way along the length of the platform.
The others stood for a moment in silence, idly watching the pilot’s progress, and then Alexieva cleared her throat. “I was wondering,” she said reluctantly. “About that girl. If she’d gotten onto the platform, how would she have gotten on the train? Don’t they check the tickets again?”
Heikki shrugged, but before she could give her answer—that the automatic scanners were easily foxed— Djuro said solemnly, “Ah. Well you asked.”
Alexieva gave him an inquiring glance, and Heikki frowned. “Sten,” she began, but the little man was hurrying on, his face crinkling into an expression that Heikki knew to be one of sheer mischief.
“If she could get on the train, of course, she’d take it—and there’re plenty of ways of foxing it—if you get a disk of the right material, reflex or tattrun, and stick it under the scanner, that’ll usually work. But if it doesn’t….” He paused then, his voice becoming sepulchral. “Then you got two choices. You can either give up, or you can try riding free.”
“Sten,” Heikki said again, but she couldn’t keep the amusement completely out of her voice. Djuro heard, and darted her a quick, evil smile.
“Riding free?” Alexieva said. From the sound of her voice, Heikki guessed she suspected she was being teased, but couldn’t quite see how. She sighed, and Djuro hurried on before she could interrupt again.
“Yeah. You only see part of the train here in the station, there’s a few dozen more capsules, cargo capsules, on a secondary platform beyond the firewall.” He nodded toward the head of the train, and the barrier that closed off the runway. “You’ve probably heard they send any cargo through first, just to be sure everything’s working right?”
Alexieva nodded, her expression still wary.
Djuro went on, “Now, you see that hatch there, left of the barrier at the end of the platform? Five’ll get you ten the lock was jimmied a long time ago, and the securitrons haven’t fixed it. That hatch gives access to the cargo platform—it’s meant for the baggage handlers. If you can get through there, you can get into one of the cargo capsules.”
He paused, expectantly, and Alexieva said, “What about the loaders?” Her voice was less disbelieving than it should have been, and Heikki shook her head at Djuro.
The little man ignored her. “They’re pretty busy, and anyway, they leave the area before the run-up starts— that whole area’s too close to the warp, once the train gets under way. So you’ve got maybe ten minutes to slip aboard. Or you could bribe somebody,” he added, after a moment’s thought. “It might well cost you less than a ticket. But it’s not hard to get into one of the capsules.”
He stopped then, waiting. Heikki was suddenly aware that Nkosi had returned, and that the pilot was waiting just as eagerly. She frowned at him, ready to tell both of them to stop their nonsense, and then saw Alexieva’s face. The surveyor was certain she shouldn’t listen, but she believed all the same. The temptation was overwhelming. Heikki swallowed her reproof, and slipped her hands into the pockets of her shift.
After a moment, Alexieva said, as though she grudged the question, “Isn’t that dangerous?”
At her side, Nkosi grinned, and as quickly wiped the expression off his face. Djuro said, “Oh, yeah. The capsules aren’t screened, you see. Why should they be? After all, it’d be a waste of money to protect inanimate cargo. So you go through the warp without the shielding.”
There was a moment of silence, and Heikki shivered in spite of herself. Even though she knew better than to believe Djuro’s story entirely, the picture was a frightening one: to be exposed to the unimaginable forces that could tear open the universe and then hold it open, to face a chaos that wasn’t chaos, but an order beyond any description except the most approximate of mathematics…. She shook the thought away.
“Oh, for Christ’s sake, Sten,” she said, more roughly than she’d intended, and Nkosi shook a finger at her.
“Language, Heikki.”
“You know perfectly well that isn’t true,” Heikki said, without turning to look at the pilot. “Stop telling old wives’ tales.”
Djuro grinned. “It’s all perfectly true, and you know it,” he protested, but without conviction.
Alexieva blushed furiously red, and looked even angrier as she touched one hot cheek. “So what about that girl?”
“Persistent, isn’t she?” Djuro murmured.
Heikki frowned at him, and said, “Well, half of what Sten said is true, anyway. Those kids, station rats, free riders, do hide in the cargo capsules—but the capsules are solid, even if they don’t carry the same shielding as the
