"I'm sure," I cut her off. "Lean forward."
She did so. I ducked down, got my hands under her thighs, and hauled her up onto my left shoulder in a modified fireman's carry, her head hanging down behind me, her legs in front with her upper thighs pressed against my chest. "Feet in close; kick straight out when I say kick," I told her as I curled my left hand around her thighs to hold her in place. Without waiting for an answer, I turned back around and headed to the door.
The Juri had moved to block me, his scaled face still screwed up in shared pain. I threw a kick into his upper leg, then scraped the sole of my shoe down along his shin to his three-toed foot. He howled in pain as the leg gave way and dumped him onto the floor. I stepped past his quivering body and out into the corridor.
A handful of other passengers had emerged from their compartments, weaving slightly as they headed toward me with pain and rage in their faces. First in line was one of the new Halkan arrivals, charging forward in a clear attempt to cut us off before we could make it out the door. I turned toward him and loosened my grip on Bayta's legs. "Kick," I said quietly.
Bayta's legs straightened out convulsively, her heels catching the Halka squarely in the upper chest. I added a kick of my own to his lower abdomen, grabbing Bayta's legs as I did so to keep her from rolling off my shoulder. "Rebekah?" I called.
"Here," the girl's voice came from behind me.
"Grab my arm," I said, and turned toward the car door.
Braithewick was still hunched over in the entryway, his face turned toward me, a deadly fury smoldering in his eyes. "You can move, or you can get kicked again," I told him. "You've got two seconds to decide."
He used up both seconds glaring at me. I gave him one more, then kicked him again in the stomach. He folded a little tighter, and I stepped carefully past him. Rebekah held on tight the whole time, gripping my upper arm like it was a life ring and she was adrift in the North Atlantic. "Bayta, get the door closed," I ordered as we reached the platform. "No, leave the Spider out here," I said as the conductor standing beside the door started to move back toward the car. "He can get aboard once we're clear."
Behind me, I heard the door iris shut. "Now what?" Bayta asked, her voice muffled against my back.
I looked around. That was, I realized, a damn good question. On a smaller Quadrail station, where there would be only a few other people around, none of whom were walkers, we could have just left the train sealed and sent it merrily on its way with the Modhran mind segment pounding its collective fists furiously against the windows.
But this was a subregional capital, and there were a hundred or more Juriani and other aliens standing around gawking at us. More importantly, eight of those hundred were already on the move toward us from spots all over the station. Their expressions were hard to make out, but I had no doubt they were alien equivalents of the look I'd just seen on Braithewick's face.
Which left us exactly one option. "Close all the first- and second-class car doors," I ordered Bayta, turning toward the rear of the train and heading off at the fastest jog I could manage.
"What about the Spiders?" she asked. "They have to get aboard before the train leaves."
"They will," I promised.
"That's only five minutes away."
"So keep the doors locked for four," I gritted, peering along the side of the train. The two baggage cars at the rear were about ten cars away, I estimated. At the rate I was going, four minutes was going to be pushing it.
"Mr. Compton!" Rebekah said urgently, her hand tightening on my arm. "They're coming!"
I half turned, swinging Bayta's body out of the way so I could see. The walkers I'd seen moving in our direction earlier had broken into jogs of their own.
And it didn't take a computerized range finder to realize they would reach us well before we made it to the baggage cars. "Bayta, can you slow them down?" I called, turning back around and trying to pick up my pace.
There was no answer. But I wasn't really expecting one. Clenching my teeth, I kept going, wondering how the hell I was going to take on eight walkers all by myself.
And then, with a multiple thunk of expanding car couplings, the Quadrail beside us began to roll forward.
What the hell? "Bayta?" I snapped.
"They're moving the train forward for us," she called back.
Thereby shortening the distance I had to run. "Good—keep it up," I told her. "Let me know when the walkers are fifty meters away. Rebekah? You all right?"
"I'm fine," she called bravely. But I could hear the trembling in her voice.
Small wonder. Back on New Tigris, she'd been quietly terrified at the prospect of falling into the Modhri's hands Now, with the end of the journey beckoning, that same horrible threat was suddenly looming again.
I blinked the sweat out of my eyes. It wasn't going to happen, I told myself firmly. Whatever it took, whatever the cost I was going to get her out of this.
We were running alongside the second to the last of the passenger cars when Bayta gave me the warning. "Fifty meters," she called.
"Right," I said, wishing I could look for myself but knowing I didn't dare take the time. "Tell the Spiders to stop the train."
There was a multiple screech as the Quadrail's brakes engaged, followed by another sequential clunking as the couplings recompressed. The door to the last third-class car was just ahead, and with a final lunge I threw myself through it. "Close it!" I snapped. Rebekah was still gripping my arm, and I twisted my torso around a little to make sure she was all the way in.
"They can't stay closed for long," Bayta warned as the door irised shut. "The conductors are still outside."
"Time?" I asked.
"Ninety seconds to departure."
"Keep us locked down another thirty seconds," I told her. Resettling her weight across my shoulder, I started down the aisle.
Travel, according to cliché, broadened the mind, and there was no doubt that the typical Quadrail travelers had had their minds broadened as much as anyone's. Nonetheless, if the stares I collected on my way down the car were any indication, this was a new one on pretty much everyone.
Fortunately for them, none of them made any attempt to stop us.
We were about a third of the way down the aisle when the train again started up, jostling everyone in the car and nearly dumping me on my face. We continued on, and as the train started angling up the slope leading out of the station we reached the car's rear door and slipped through into the first baggage car.
"What do we do now?" Rebekah asked as the door slid shut behind us.
"We get ready for company," I said, gingerly sliding Bayta off my aching shoulder and setting her down on her feet on the floor. "Bayta, turn around."
"There is a plan, then?" Bayta asked as she swiveled around to put her back to me.
"There was," I said, pulling out my lockpick. "Unfortunately, it's now been just slightly shot to hell."
Bayta threw a look at Rebekah. "I hope you have a new one."
"In production as we speak," I assured her. "Rebekah, go push on the stacks of crates nearest the door. See if you can figure out which one's the lightest."
"Okay."
Her tour of the stacks took about a minute, the same minute it took me to get Bayta's wrist and ankle cuffs off. "This one, I think," she said, pointing to the stack to the right of the door.
"Good," I said, flipping out my multitool's tiny knife, the only genuine weapon allowed inside the Tube. Stepping to the door side of Rebekah's stack, I reached up and cut a long vertical slit in the safety webbing. I pried the webbing open, then jabbed the knife into the side of one of the crates midway up "Okay," I said, getting a grip on the multitool. "I'll pull. You two go around on the other side and push."
The stack was a lot heavier than it looked, and it took a good half minute of grunting to get it to tip. But finally, and with a horrible crash, it came down, spreading its constituent crates all across the floor in front of the doorway.