"It will leave when scheduled," the Resolver said, a hint of mild rebuke in his voice. If there was one thing in this universe you could absolutely count on, it was that the Spiders would keep their trains running on schedule. "Until then, we would appreciate it if you would accompany us to the stationmaster's office to await his decision."
Leaving Bayta and Rebekah alone and helpless, perhaps? But they were hardly that. Bayta had the kwi and a ton of Spiders around she could call on to run interference if needed.
Besides, at the edge of my vision I could see three knots of Halkas loitering on our platform, their flat bulldog faces turned in my direction, their heads leaning back and forth toward each other as they muttered among themselves. Getting out of the public eye for a while might not be a bad idea. "Very well," I said. "But I accompany you voluntarily, with full freedom to leave whenever I choose."
"That will be for the stationmaster to decide," Tas Yelfro said. Taking a step to the side, he gestured me past him. "This way, please."
It was the perfect setup for a good dit rec drama mob scene, as the alleged murderer was led on foot past simmering groups of the victims' countrymen. But the Modhri was apparently not interested in trying to tear me limb from limb today. The two Juriani and I reached the stationmaster's office without collecting anything more dangerous than a few glowers, and we all went inside.
"Mr. Frank Compton," the stationmaster greeted me solemnly.
"That's me," I confirmed, listening carefully to his voice. To my ears, unfortunately, all Spiders sounded alike. "Have we met?"
"No," he said briefly. "Has the current situation been explained to you?"
"I've had the Jurian version," I said. "But it seems to me that the only one I need to concern myself with is yours."
The Spider didn't answer, but merely curled up one of his seven legs from the floor and plucked a reader from the desk. I studied him as he held that pose, paying particular attention to the scattering of white spots on his globe. It was, I decided, a different pattern from the one I'd seen on the stationmaster aboard our Quadrail.
The stationmaster everyone from Bayta on down claimed hadn't been there at all.
This one held up the reader another moment, then laid it down again. "Very well," he said. "Mr. Compton, you may sit. Tas Yelfro, you may speak."
Tas Yelfro's case, as one would expect from a professional Resolver, was lucid, well organized, and delivered with the kind of panache achieved elsewhere only by the lawyers in well-written dit rec dramas. I listened with one ear, most of my attention on our train across the way, watching as the Spiders continued the task of switching out the baggage car.
And wondering why exactly they were going to so much effort to keep the crime scene here.
Because they hadn't been nearly so cooperative with the locals the last time I'd gotten tangled up with a murder aboard a Quadrail. In that case, in fact, I'd had every indication that they'd planned to just move out the victim's effects, clean up the bloodstains, and send the car merrily on its way without so much as a preliminary forensic sweep.
Was it the potential for a three-way political tug-of-war that was making them so cooperative? Or was it merely the fact that this was a baggage car instead of a first-class compartment car, which meant there were no VIPs they would have to shift around?
Or did everyone else know something that I didn't?
Tas Yelfro had launched into his final summing-up when Bayta slipped through the door into the office and sat down beside me. "You all right?" she whispered.
Falc Bresi, listening to the Resolver's speech from the side, sent us an annoyed look. But since neither the stationmaster nor Tas Yelfro seemed all that worried about Bayta's quiet interruption, I decided not to be, either. "I'm fine," I whispered back. "What are you doing here?"
"It's all right," she assured me. "Rebekah's in a secure storage area along with our crate."
"What about my lockbox?" I asked, knowing she would pick up on the unasked question. "That's the only gun I've got left, and I don't want it going off on a tour of the galaxy without me."
"Don't worry, it's safe," she said. "The Spiders took it off the Quadrail and set it aside by one of the underfloor hatchways where they're collected for shuttle transport to the transfer station."
An underfloor hatchway near where Bayta had put Rebekah? I didn't dare ask, not with the two Juriani standing right there. But there was enough of a knowing expression on Bayta's face that it was clear we both knew what we were actually talking about. The Melding coral was safe, hopefully close enough to Rebekah to continue behaving itself. "Good enough," I said. "If I end up heading in-system, I'll definitely want it with me."
Bayta looked over at Tas Yelfro, who was still holding forth. "If the Juriani allow that," she warned.
I tuned back in to the oratory. To my surprise, somewhere along the way the Resolver had apparently switched from requesting a simple court of discovery to asking for a full-fledged criminal trial. "Uh-oh," I murmured.
"Is there really enough evidence to hold you for trial?" Bayta asked, sounding confused.
"Not even close," I said. "From our noble Resolver's expression, I'd say he doesn't think so, either."
"But then why—?" She broke off.
"Right," I confirmed grimly, studying Tas Yelfro's face. Though the polyp colony under his brain was clearly feeding him instructions, the lack of an altered expression and vocal pattern meant the Modhri hadn't yet escalated his control to the point of physically taking over his body. Either he didn't feel it was necessary to go to that extreme, or else he was hoping he could keep the identity of the Resolver's true master under wraps. "What does the stationmaster make of all this?" I asked Bayta.
"He's uncertain," she said. "He's not going to simply turn you over to the Juriani, of course. But he's concerned that letting you go free without an investigation would bring unwelcome attention."
"To us?" I asked. "Or to him?"
"Neither would be a good thing," she said diplomatically.
"I suppose," I said. "Let's see if we can help him out a little." Squaring my shoulders, I stood up.
Tas Yelfro noticed me immediately, of course. But Jurian protocol concerning official presentations required him to finish his current thought before he acknowledged me. I, for my part, had the equally rigid obligation to wait silently until he found that end point and invited me into the discussion.
Two sentences later—two very convoluted sentences, as it happened—he reached his stopping point. "You have something to add?" he asked me.
"Actually, I have a suggestion," I said. "It's obvious now that this matter can't be resolved until long after my train has left the station. Therefore—"
"Do you insult the abilities of a Jurian Resolver?" Falc Bresi interrupted.
The scales around Tas Yelfro's eyes wrinkled in a grimace. Cutting me off in the middle of my turn was a clear violation of protocol, and I would be well within my rights to demand an apology.
But I was a gracious sort of alien, and I let it pass. "Therefore, I suggest you confine me here on the station," I continued, "under Spider guard and protection, until we have sufficient information to decide how best to proceed."
Falc Bresi opened his beak—"Such information to include a full examination of the bodies and the location of their death?" Tas Yelfro asked before the governor could say anything.
"Exactly," I said, watching as Falc Bresi closed his beak again without speaking. Either the governor didn't know the first thing about how detailed and time-consuming real-life criminal investigations were, or else he simply didn't believe that upstart aliens like me deserved that kind of consideration. "I wouldn't expect it to take more than three or four days."