“If you’re counting on the security system, don’t,” I warned. “Because our next job is going to be to scramble, cripple, or shut down the cameras, as quickly and thoroughly as we can.”
Minnario shook his head weakly. “No need. There are only limited cameras in the upper service areas.”
“But there are hundreds of the damn things in the main part of the station,” I countered. “And our absolute next priority is to get Minnario to a medical center. If he doesn’t get treatment, and fast, he’s going to die.”
The Modhri was silent for so long I began to wonder if Minnario had slipped into a coma that even his resident polyp colony couldn’t break through. “You care a great deal about other living beings,” he said at last.
“One of my many weaknesses,” I said shortly. “Can you find me the nearest medical center and the fastest way to get us there? If we can do some of the trip through the upper industrial areas, fine. But if that’s going to slow us down, we’ll just have to take our chances in the main sections.”
“Understood,” the Modhri said. “Give me a moment.”
He fell silent again. Setting my bundle on the floor, I opened it and started reattaching the thrusters to Minnario’s chair. When I finished, it was once again hovering at its usual waist height. “Anything?” I prompted. “Modhri? You still there?”
“I’m still here,” he assured me in a raspy voice. “The closest medical center is an emergency node in the next subsector inward, in one of the upper floors.”
“How long until we can get there?”
“Not long.” I felt the elevator car come to a halt, and drew my Beretta as the doors slid open.
There was no one visible. Doug and the other watchdog trotted out, looked in both directions— “Clear,” the Modhri said. “We go left.”
I got a grip on the chair’s control stick, maneuvered Minnario out of the car, and headed left.
Instead of an actual corridor, with walls and a ceiling and everything, we were in what was simply an extra-wide open space surrounded by industrial equipment. Most of it consisted of dozens of varying-sized tanks, connected by kilometers of rigid pipes and flexible tubing, with occasional readout stations and overhead fans whose sole purpose seemed to be to move the tropical air around instead of actually doing anything to cool it. The watchdogs broke into a fast lope; I adjusted Minnario’s chair to match their speed and followed. “How long to the emergency node?” I asked.
“Perhaps ten minutes of walking up here, then a short elevator ride, then three more minutes of walking,” the Modhri said.
“Can Minnario hold out that long?”
“I think so.” The Modhri hesitated. “But there may be a problem. The emergency node is on the edge of the main administrative part of Kuzyatru Station, which is almost certainly now engaged in a frenzied hunt for you. Worse still, there is a security nexus only four doors away.”
“That could be a problem, all right,” I agreed. “Any progress with the security cameras?”
“No,” he said. “I’m sorry, but I have no direct access to patrollers or patroller equipment.”
I hissed between my teeth. This just got better and better. “Any chance you can bring Minnario to the node alone? Just do what you’re doing right now and tell them you had an accident and get them working on you?”
“I don’t think so,” he said. “I can talk, but I can’t operate his arm and therefore the chair controls. But one of the msikai-dorosli may be able to pull me in.”
“Is that something they might conceivably do on their own?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I’ve never seen them do anything like that during my time here.”
“Well, just because you haven’t seen it happen doesn’t mean it can’t,” I said, blinking sweat out of my eyes. “I’ll get you down to the right floor, and they’ll have to take it from there.”
“You mean you’ll ride in the elevator?”
“I doubt those paws can handle the buttons.” I frowned as something suddenly struck me. “They can handle computer keys, though, can’t they? You’re the one who put that message on my computer the night Yleli was murdered.”
“Yes,” he said. “Their claws aren’t designed to handle the necessary pressure needed for the elevator buttons, but they’re strong enough to push computer keys.”
“I suppose you’re the one who took out the medical-dome cameras, too,” I said as it all fell into place. “You used Minnario and one of the thrusters from his chair to bend the one upward, while Doug just leaped up and tore the other one off its gimbals with his claws.”
“Yes,” the Modhri said again. “I was intrigued by the mystery of Building Twelve, and since you had expressed interest in looking into it, I tried to clear the way for you.” His breathing caught, halted for a couple of seconds, then resumed. “Unfortunately, before I could get the message to you the Shonkla-raa saw the camera damage, assumed you were responsible, and prepared a trap for you.”
“Just as well they didn’t see you actually take them out,” I said, eyeing Minnario apprehensively. He seemed to be fading fast. “How much farther?”
“Not far,” the Modhri said. “But you won’t be coming with me.”
“I thought we just decided I had to,” I reminded him.
“You can enter the elevator, push the proper buttons, and then leave,” he said. “The msikai-dorosli can take him the rest of the way.”
I shook my head. “No good. Like you said, they don’t usually go wandering Proteus all by themselves. If someone else gets on along the way and sees a pair of them out for a walk, he’ll either call the Jumpsuits or try to corral them himself. Either way, Minnario’s likely to die before you get him to the emergency node.”
“Then he will die,” the Modhri said firmly. “I cannot permit you to put yourself at such risk. Not with Bayta still a prisoner of the Shonkla-raa. You must stay hidden and decipher her last message to you.”
“I can do that and get Minnario to the node, too,” I said stubbornly.
“Really? Then tell me the meaning.”
I grimaced. “I’m working on it.”
“And once you’ve deciphered it, you still face the task of freeing her and making your escape,” he continued. “What is Scotland?”
“It’s a place on Earth,” I said, frowning suddenly as a stray thought caught my mind. With my brain tearing itself apart over the image of Bayta in Shonkla-raa hands, I hadn’t remembered … but hadn’t she just been talking about Scotland?
Yes, she had. Two nights ago, when we were lying together in our adjoining cells in the security nexus after Yleli’s murder. She’d been talking about the dit-rec drama The 39 Steps and commenting about the similarities to my own situation. And in that story, Scotland was the place where Richard Hannay went to get the answers to the mystery.
No—I was wrong. He found answers there, but that wasn’t the reason he went. He went there trying to escape.
And in that same conversation, I remembered now, Bayta had also been evasive about what she’d been doing on the room’s computer earlier that evening.
The inference was obvious. Somewhere, somehow, she’d set up a plan for our escape.
Only I didn’t have the foggiest idea what that plan was.
“Before the attack, after I talked to her, did she do anything?” I asked the Modhri. “Did she say anything to Emikai, or make any calls?”
“She made one call,” the Modhri said. “I wasn’t looking at her at the time, but I didn’t hear her speak to anyone.”
A data transfer? “How long was she on?”
“Not long,” he said. “Perhaps half a minute.”
So it was either a very short data transfer, or else some kind of activation signal. “Do you know if Proteus is set up so that you can access a personal room computer via comm?”