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Authors: Timothy Zahn

Tags: #Fiction, #SciFi, #Quadrail

Odd Girl Out (21 page)

BOOK: Odd Girl Out
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Dead ones.

“What happened?” Bayta asked, her voice shaking a little as I knelt beside the bodies. No matter how many times death intruded on our lives, she never seemed to get completely used to it.

“No obvious marks; no signs of a struggle,” I said, lifting one of the victims’ heads for a closer look at the eyes and mouth. There was some kind of mucus at the corners of his mouth and eyes, I saw, which probably meant something. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the slightest idea what. “Hopefully, some doctor at Jurskala Station will have time for an autopsy.”

“What do you do here, Humans?” a voice demanded from behind me.

I spun around, jumping back to my feet as I did so. Three of the four Juriani who’d accosted me in the other baggage car were staring down their beaks in obvious horror at the sight before them. “Can I help you?” I asked cautiously.

The one in front snapped his beak a couple of times, then gestured to the Juri to his right. “Bidran, bring the conductor,” he ordered. “Tell him what you have seen. Tell him what these Humans have done.”

The other gulped something and turned, running with complete lack of normal Jurian dignity toward the passenger section of the train. “So, Humans,” the spokesman said, his tone dark and ominous and still clearly shaken. “You do not merely come back here to steal. You come back here to murder.”

“It’s not what you think,” I protested. “We just found them this way.”

“That will be for a court of discovery to decide,” the Juri said flatly.

The
kwi
tingled in my palm as Bayta activated it. Clearly, she assumed I would want to blast our way out of this.

But I couldn’t. For one thing, the Juriani weren’t under Modhran control, not this time. They were—or thought they were—just honest citizens who’d accidentally stumbled on a double murder and wanted to help bring the perps to justice.

Besides, it was way too late to cover this up by shooting. From the front baggage car I could hear the messenger screaming for assistance at the top of his lungs. Shooting these two would only give us two more bodies to explain when the mob of curiosity-seekers arrived.

“What do we do?” Bayta whispered tensely.

I grimaced. “We surrender to the Spiders,” I told her.

I looked down at the bodies. Apparently, the Modhri
wasn’t
through making trouble for the day.

Chapter Seventeen

Four hours later, we pulled into Jurskala Station.

Once in motion along the Tube, there’s no way for a Quadrail to send a message on ahead. Nevertheless, by the time I finished giving Bayta her last-minute instructions and stepped out onto the platform, I would have been willing to swear the entire station knew what had happened.

Of course, the rumor grapevine had probably been helped along by the two bodies the drones were carefully lifting up through the baggage-car roof. The fact that there were two grim-faced Jurian officials waiting for me on the platform couldn’t have hurt, either.

“You are Mr. Frank Compton?” one of the Juriani asked as I stepped off the train.

“Yes,” I acknowledged, noting the polished scales and the subtle markings on their beaks. The one who’d spoken was a Resolver, while the other was a mid-level government official “And you?”

“I am
Tas
Yelfro,” the Resolver said. “Resolver of the Jurian Collective. This is
Falc
Bresi, governor of Minprov District on Jostieer. We have some unpleasant questions to ask you.”

“I see,” I said. “May I ask your right of questioning?”

Falc
Bresi stirred, either surprised or annoyed by the bluntness of my question.
Tas
Yelfro, in contrast, didn’t bat an eye. “You are accused of a double murder in Jurian space,” he told me.

“A double murder of non-Juriani, and inside Spider-controlled territory,” I reminded him.

“Both true,”
Tas
Yelfro conceded calmly. “To the first, I remind you that there were three Jurian witnesses to the crime.”

“Witnesses to the discovery of a crime, not to the crime itself,” I again reminded him.

“That will indeed be the primary question before the court of discovery,” the Resolver said. “As to the second, a request is even now being made to the stationmaster for your release into Jurian custody.”

I looked over his shoulder toward the complex of buildings that housed the stationmaster’s office. Theoretically, I would be on completely solid ground to tell both him and
Falc
Bresi to take a hike, and all three of us knew it.

Unfortunately, theory didn’t always link up with the real world. With rumors sweeping across the station, the Spiders were surely feeling the awkward delicacy of the situation. A pair of Humans found at a Halkan murder scene by Jurian citizenry was an engraved invitation for all three governments to get involved, and I wasn’t at all sure how well the Spiders would stand up under the kind of pressure that could be brought to bear on them. Especially with the Modhri busily stirring the pot from the sidelines. “I appreciate your concerns for justice,” I told the two Juriani. “I have such concerns myself, though you may not believe that. But I also have duties and obligations to fulfill, and I can’t do that from the center of a Jurian court of discovery.”

“You should have thought of that before murdering two helpless citizens of the galaxy in cold blood,”
Falc
Bresi bit out.

“Please, Governor,”
Tas
Yelfro said, holding a calming hand toward the other. “Perhaps, Mr. Compton, we will be able to solve our mutual difficulties before your train departs. I believe it will stay for the next hour.”

“If not longer,” I conceded, craning my neck to look back along the side of the Quadrail toward the baggage cars. With the bodies now gone, there were Spider drones and drudges swarming all over the crime scene, some of them working to unhook the car so that a fresh one standing by could be brought in to replace it. The rest of the Spiders were busy transferring the stacks of cargo to the replacement car.

“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.”

“The Juriani have no objections to such a path,”
Tas
Yelfro said. “Stationmaster?”

“It will be as suggested,” the stationmaster said.

Tas
Yelfro bowed. “Thank you.”

“I recommend a room at the Eulalee Hotel,” I said. “They have room service, so I won’t need an escort to take me to my meals.”

“Don’t overreach your status,”
Falc
Bresi growled. “You are a criminal, and will spend your time in a holding cell at the detention center.”

“Stationmaster?” I invited. “This is your jurisdiction and decision, not his.”

“He will be placed in the Eulalee Hotel,” the Spider said.

“Make it a top-floor room on the west side,” I added. “That way I can keep an eye on what the examiners are doing with the baggage car.”

“Very well,” the stationmaster said. “
Tas
Yelfro, you and
Falc
Bresi may accompany Mr. Compton and his Spider escort to his holding area, if you wish.”

“Oh, yes,”
Falc
Bresi said, glaring coldly at me over the top of his beak. “We most certainly do so wish.”

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