Only in this case there was nothing even remotely humorous about it. Their last-minute appearance tagged the three of them as Modhri walkers, with the clear intent of making sure Bayta didn't make it back onto the train.
Trapping her in one of the loneliest places in the galaxy.
There was no time for planning or even conscious thought. Even before the full ramifications of the situation had sifted completely through my brain I was on my feet, weaving madly through the maze of chairs as I raced for the car's door. I came within an ace of tangling myself in the conductor's legs as I dodged around him; and then I was outside, sprinting across the platform toward the macabre do-si-do still going on.
One of the Juriani half turned, but he had no time for more than a startled gasp before I slammed my shoulder into him, bouncing him in turn off his companions and finally throwing off their rhythm. My hand darted past the Cimma to grab Bayta's wrist, and I turned us back toward the train.
Only to see that it was already in motion.
I tried anyway, nearly dragging Bayta off her feet as I pulled her toward the train. But we were too late. The doors were closed, and there wasn't nearly enough time for Bayta to get a conductor to open one of them. Swearing viciously under my breath, I gave up and slowed to a halt.
The Gang of Fifteen, and whatever it was they were carrying, were gone.
FIVE :
The sounds of the Quadrail faded away, and as they did so I became aware that I wasn't the only one swearing. "What do you do. Human?" the Juri I'd slammed into demanded, glaring at me as he clutched his shoulder with one clawed hand.
"What do you do?" I countered. "You kept my friend from reboarding her train."
He bristled, clicking his hawk beak with indignation, his three-toed feet tapping the floor. Probably as annoyed by my lack of proper verbal etiquette as he was by the physical injury itself, I guessed. The Juriani were sticklers for such things, and normally I did my best to accommodate them.
At the moment, though, I couldn't have cared less. "It was completely unintentional. I assure you," he insisted stiffly. "We had suddenly realized that here was the source of all that fine Helvanti chocolate and decided to avail ourselves of the opportunity to purchase some."
The worst part was that probably really was all that he and his companions had intended. Or at least, all they thought they'd intended. None of them would be aware in the slightest that there was a small mass of alien flesh tucked away beneath their brains whispering these suggestions to them.
"It's all right, Frank," Bayta spoke up. "Master Juri, we apologize for our actions. To all of you," she added to the others.
She looked expectantly at me. "I also apologize," I said, forcing as much civility into the words as I could manage. "My actions were discourteous and inexcusable, and I crave your understanding and your forgiveness."
The Juri drew himself up to his full height, his polished scales glistening in the Coreline's flickering light. Now that the proper words had been said, he was willing to let bygones be bygones. "You are forgiven." he said, clicking his beak three times to show that he meant it. "And do not be alarmed at the departure of the train. There will be others." With that, he gestured to his friends and they headed together for the station's single shop/restaurant.
I glared after him, fighting back my frustration and sense of defeat. How did you fight someone who didn't even know he was your enemy?
"You all right?" Bayta asked as she watched them go.
"Oh, I'm fine," I said sourly. "You?"
She nodded. "I wasn't hurt."
I looked down the tracks to see our Quadrail ride up the angled end of the station and through the atmosphere barrier into the narrower main Tube. "I don't suppose there's any way to send a warning message ahead."
"How?" Bayta countered.
She was right, of course. Spiders were telepathic between themselves, but only over short distances. Message cylinders traveled a thousand times faster than the Quadrails themselves, but to send one you had to have a train available in the first place. "Any chance we can get another train before that one reaches Terra Station?"
"The next one for this station isn't due for another twelve hours."
And the Bellidos would be at Terra in eight. Plenty of time for them to switch trains or pass their package on to some other group of walkers the Modhri could have waiting at the station. "No express trains we could stop?" I asked, trying one last time.
"There are only two other expresses during that time, and it's too late to get a message to either of them." She hesitated. "Even if the Spiders were willing to stop them."
I nodded. For years I'd admired the absolute precision with which the Quadrail system operated. But now that I knew how the message cylinder trick was done, I realized there was more to it than just professional pride. If the trains weren't in the right places at the right times, those cylinders would be falling from the inner mesh like pigeon droppings over Manhattan. "So we've lost them," I said, making it official.
"I'm sorry."
I focused on her face. Bayta spent so much of her time being in complete emotional control of herself that it was always something of a shock when that control slipped, even for a minute. "Hey, relax," I soothed. "It wasn't your fault. Anyway, we know where they're going. Sooner or later, we'll catch up with them." I raised my eyebrows. "Trust me."
She gave me one of those wryly patient looks she'd honed to a fine art during our months of traveling together. But at least the self-reproach was fading. "If you say so."
"I say so," I said. "Incidentally, just out of curiosity, how did it go with the stationmaster?"
"Oh, fine," she said, making a face. "Right now there's a drone Spider hanging onto the side of one of the baggage cars. Actually, he's probably moved to the top of the car by now."
All ready to work his way forward and try to peek through the window into the compartment where our reclusive Bellidos had locked themselves. A glimpse of what they had in that shoulder bag, relayed telepathically to Bayta, might have given us a clue as to what was going on.
Only now the whole thing was moot, because Bayta wasn't there to guide the operation and receive the image. Spiders were terrific at their assigned jobs, but I was starting to realize that trying to nudge them outside their personal fields of expertise was like trying to teach a cat to sing. Chances were fairly good, in fact, that the drone would still be on the baggage car roof when the train pulled into Terra Station eight hours from now. "I hope he at least enjoys the ride." I said.
"Enjoyment for a Spider comes from doing his job," Bayta said, glancing casually around us. "The stationmaster also had two data chips," she said, pulling them out of her pocket. "One for each of us."
I took the proffered chip, giving the platform a quick check of my own. The trio of walkers had vanished into the shop/restaurant, and aside from a half-dozen drudge Spiders working on one of the tracks down the line we were completely alone. "Let's go sit over there," I suggested, pointing to a pair of benches facing an interactive kiosk offering visitors the Helvanti colony's brief but no doubt exciting history.
We both had our readers out and the chips plugged in by the time we sat down. "Mine has the Nemuti Lynx data you asked for," Bayta reported, peering closely at it.
"That's nice," I said absently, my brain fully absorbed with my own chip. What the hell?
I was on my third reading when Bayta nudged me with her reader. "Here," she said.
"What?" I asked, forcing my mind away from the sudden flurry of thought and speculation that had descended on me.
"Here," she repeated. "You'll want to read this."
I put my reader down on the bench and took hers. Scrolling back to the top of the report—and there wasn't all that far I had to scroll—I began to read.