The Domino Pattern (26 page)

And about to get her killed.

I watched the unfolding drama, my brain and muscles paralyzed by indecision. Should I warn Kennrick of the approaching Juri, thereby temporarily protecting Bayta’s life but destroying any chance the Modhri might have of stopping him? Or should I keep quiet, cross my fingers, and hope the Modhri’s million-to-one shot actually came through?

I was still frozen in uncertainty when the decision was taken out of my hands. Abruptly, Kennrick spun halfway around, swinging Bayta around with him like a full-body shield as he lifted his right hand over her shoulder. I saw his thumb shift its grip on the garrote handle and squeeze the
kwi
’s firing switch.

Without even a twitch, Vevri collapsed to the floor with a thud and lay still.

Before anyone else could react Kennrick swung himself and Bayta back around to face me. “I’ll be charitable and assume that wasn’t your idea, Compton,” he said. “If it happens again, there’ll be consequences.” He lifted the
kwi
again slightly. “This really
is
a handy little gadget.”

And abruptly my spinning mind caught the tracks again, my eyes shifting to the unconscious Juri Kennrick had just shot with the
kwi
. The
kwi
that could only be activated by Bayta or one of the Spiders.

How the hell had Kennrick gotten the damn thing to work
?

If any of the other passengers had it in mind to intervene, Vevri’s failure convinced them otherwise. No one else so much as blinked as the killer and his hostage backed into the vestibule and vanished from sight.

The door had barely closed before Emikai started toward the door, a glint of fire in his eyes. “No—let them go,” I said quickly.

“We cannot let him get to his compartment,” Emikai said.

“How are you going to stop him without getting Bayta killed?” I demanded.

“He will not harm her,” Emikai insisted. “Without a hostage, he is dead.”

“So he kills her and grabs someone else,” I snarled, my legs literally shaking with the overwhelming urge to go after Kennrick myself. “Don’t you understand? This man is a professional, and he’s clearly thought this through. We can’t just go charging in after him. We have to figure out what his plan is, and outthink him.”

Emikai looked at the door where Kennrick and Bayta had vanished. “And if we cannot?”

“We can,” I said grimly. “We will.”

For a long moment Emikai and I just stared at each other. Then, his shoulders slumped a little and he nodded. “She is your assistant,” he said. “He is of your people. I yield to your authority.”

“Thank you,” I said. I squeezed my hands into fists to force out some of the adrenaline flooding my system and tried to think. “Okay, here’s what we do. First of all, we need to make sure not to spook Kennrick again. Go find a conductor and tell him to alert any Spiders between here and Kennrick’s compartment to make sure none of the other passengers tries to play hero.”

“What if the conductor won’t listen to me?”

“He will,” I said. If he didn’t, he would surely check telepathically with Bayta, who would just as surely confirm the order. “Next, we need to isolate Kennrick from other potential hostages. Tell the Spider to start figuring out where we can temporarily put the rest of the passengers in that car.”

“I will obey,” he said. “What about you?”

“Someone needs to talk to Kennrick and find out exactly what he wants.” I squared my shoulders. “I guess that’s me.”

I forced myself to take my time, not wanting to come within sight of Kennrick before he reached his goal lest he think I was crowding him. I passed through the exercise/dispensary, shower, and storage cars, bypassed the dining car with its mostly oblivious patrons, and reached the first coach car.

I’d made it barely five steps inside when a hand darted in from my right, grabbed my arm, and spun me around.

And I found myself staring into the angry eyes of a Tra’ho government oathling. “What did you do?” he demanded.

I took another look at his face, with its sagging jowls and the slight flatness of the eyes. “Later, Modhri,” I said shortly, reaching over to pull his hand off my arm.

“Not later,” he insisted. “Now. What did you do?”

“What did
you
do?” I countered. “That stunt could have gotten Bayta killed.”

“And so you allow the weapon to work?” he shot back. “How does that benefit either of us?”

“What makes you think
I
control the weapon?” I growled, glancing surreptitiously around the car. Fortunately, the rest of the passengers were already gathered in small knots, talking quietly but nervously among themselves, with little attention to spare for us. Kennrick’s passage must have made quite an impression.

“Do not lie,” the Modhri bit out. “I know the weapon must be activated. There was no Spider present. The agent herself would not have done so. That leaves only you.”

“And since when do I have—?” I broke off, a jolt of understanding abruptly hitting me. “No, you’re wrong,” I said. “Bayta
did
activate it.”

“Why would she foil my attempt to rescue her?”

“Because your attempt didn’t have a chance,” I told him. “And because she was thinking ahead.”

“To what?”

“To the next real chance we have, whenever that is,” I said, smiling tightly. “Don’t you get it?
Kennrick now thinks he has a functional weapon
.”

The other’s face worked as he thought it through. Then, slowly, the anger faded from his eyes. “Indeed,” the Modhri murmured. “So the next time he thinks to use the weapon, it will fail?”

“Or at least the next time he tries to use it when Bayta judges we have a real chance of success,” I said. “That doesn’t mean one of us won’t get zapped if we try something stupid again.”

“Understood,” the Modhri said. “What’s our next move?”

“I’m going to go talk to him,” I said. “Try to find out what he wants, how he expects to get it, and hopefully find a chink in his armor that we can exploit.”

“Dangerous,” the Modhri rumbled. “But necessary. What do you wish me to do in your absence?”

“For the moment, just hang back and let me work,” I said. “If the
kwi
was still on its lowest unconsciousness setting, your Jurian walker should recover in an hour or two.” I leveled a finger at him. “But I mean that about letting me work. We
will
nail him, but we’ll do it my way. Understand?”

“I’ll await your instructions,” the Modhri promised reluctantly. “Good hunting to you.”

“Thanks.” I nodded. “In the meantime, if you really want something to do, you could help soothe your fellow passengers. You might also start getting them mentally prepared for some changes in their traveling conditions. We’re going to evacuate the rest of that car’s compartments, which will mean an influx of displaced travelers settling down in here and the other coach cars.”

“I can do that.” The Tra’ho’s eyes shifted to the front of the car. “What is this?”

I turned to look. Maneuvering his way awkwardly through the vestibule door was a pale, frail-looking Nemut in a Shorshic vectored-thrust-powered support chair. His truncated-cone-shaped mouth had a slight distortion in it, and one of his angled shoulder muscles seemed frozen in a permanent off-center hunch. I’d seen him a few times since we left Homshil, mostly eating solitary meals in the dining car. “Trouble?” I asked quietly.

“I don’t know,” the Modhri said. “His name is Minnario, journeying to a Filiaelian clinic in hopes of finding a genetic cure for his congenital difficulties. But I’ve never seen him leave his compartment except for meals, which he always takes alone.”

Something pricked at the back of my neck. “Do you know which compartment he’s got?” I asked.

“No,” the Modhri said, his oathling topcut wobbling back and forth as the Tra’ho shook his head. “None of the conversations I’ve overheard has mentioned that.”

Minnario finished getting through the door and started down the center of the car, his head turning slowly back and forth as he studied the passengers. His eyes passed me, then paused and came back. His fingers shifted on the chair’s control box, and he altered course in our direction.

“Wait here,” I told the Modhri, and moved ahead to intercept. “Are you looking for me?” I asked as we neared each other.

Minnario looked down at a plate that was fastened to the chair’s control box by a slender stem. [Are you the Human who chases the other Humans?] he croaked in slightly lisping Nemuspee as he brought the chair to a halt.

“I am,” I confirmed. “You have a message for me?”

There was another pause as he again studied the plate. I took a final couple of steps toward him and saw that it was running him a transcript of what I’d just said. Apparently, deafness was another of his congenital defects. [I was told to give you this,] he croaked. Reaching to a pouch in his lap, he carefully extracted a Quadrail ticket. [The key to my compartment.]

“Let me guess,” I said grimly. “Your compartment connects to the male Human’s?”

[I don’t know where the male Human goes,] he said. [I was asked to give you my key, and told I could move into this one.] He held up another ticket, this one glittering with the diamond-dust edges of a first-class, unlimited-use pass. Bayta’s ticket. [Is that all right?] he croaked. [Should I remain here instead?]

“No, that’s all right,” I said, taking his ticket from him. “Go ahead and make yourself comfortable. I may ask to come in later to collect some of the female’s personal effects.”

[Certainly,] he said when the transcript had finished scrolling across the plate. [Is there trouble? The female seemed frightened.]

“There is, but it doesn’t concern you,” I assured him. “Thank you for this.” Stepping past him, I continued forward.

The corridor of the rear compartment car was empty. I made my way through it, then entered the equally deserted corridor of the middle car. I located Minnario’s compartment and used his ticket to open the door. “Hello?” I called carefully.

“There you are,” Kennrick’s muffled voice came back. “Don’t just stand there—come on in.”

I stepped into the compartment, letting the door slide shut behind me. The room was a typical Quadrail compartment, to which strategically placed grips and bars had been added to assist Minnario with his physical challenges. At the front of the room, the dividing wall between compartments had been opened about ten centimeters and a soft light was showing through. “Okay, I’m in,” I called.

“Come over to the divider and take a look,” Kennrick’s voice came through the gap. “But carefully, please. Very carefully.”

I crossed the compartment, stepping past the curve couch frozen midway into its collapse into the divider. I reached the opening and eased an eye around the edge.

Kennrick was all the way across the room, sitting cross-legged on the bed and turning the
kwi
thoughtfully over in his hands. Between him and me, sitting with unnatural stillness in the computer desk chair, was Bayta, a pair of wire loops wrapped around her neck.

“Let me explain the situation,” Kennrick said. “You’ll note the usual control on the wall beside you that will open the divider the rest of the way. I’d strongly advise you not to bump it.”

“Because if I do, one of those wire loops will strangle her?” I suggested.

“It might,” Kennrick said. “These are actually thinner wires than the garrote I pulled on you a few minutes ago, so it’s possible the loop would slice her head clean off instead of just strangling her. Me, I’m not all that anxious to find out for sure. But if you’re curious, be my guest.”

“No, that’s all right,” I said. “I suppose the other loop is fastened to the corridor door?”

“You suppose correctly,” he said. “Rather clever, if I do say so myself.”

“Oh, it’s brilliant,” I assured him. I’d wondered how he thought he would be able to hold out another two and a half weeks without falling asleep, and thus leaving himself open to attack. With this setup, he could sleep until noon every day without worrying about anyone charging in on him. “Your boss will be proud.”

“Thank you,” he said. “Incidentally, what exactly gave me away? Assuming something
did
give me away, and that you weren’t just blowing smoke out there.”

“Oh, no, I’m on to you,” I assured him. “You’re my replacement, the man who’s supposed to figure out how to take control of the Quadrail from the Spiders.”

I cocked my head. “So tell me. How
is
our good friend Mr. Larry Cecil Hardin?”

“I was right,” Kennrick said, shaking his head in admiration. “The minute I saw you getting on my Quadrail I knew you were going to be trouble. So again: what gave me away?”

“Several things,” I said. “Though it wasn’t until I’d collected enough of them that I started to see the pattern. For starters, Colix wasn’t even room temperature when you were blaming the Spiders for incompetence or worse. Given their seven-hundred-year spotless operational record, it was a strange attitude to take. In retrospect, I can see it was just part of the plan to undermine confidence in their ability to run the Quadrail.”

“Yes, I thought you seemed surprised by that,” Kennrick conceded. “I suppose it was a bit of a risk, but with Aronobal and a couple of Shorshians in the room I really couldn’t afford to pass up the chance to start planting seeds.”

“And it was a theme you kept coming back to the whole trip,” I said, trying to visually backtrack the wires around Bayta’s neck. But my field of view was too limited for me to see where and how either of them was attached at the far end. “You also were way too incompetent for the liaison job you’d supposedly been hired for. Quite a few members of your team agreed on that.”

“I thought I already explained that,” he reminded me.

“Yes, and rather badly, too,” I said. “There must be hundreds of people on Earth who are competent at both the legal
and
the social aspects of Filly and Shorshic cultures. Surely Pellorian could have hired one of them in your place, if that was actually the job you were supposed to be doing.”

“I’m starting to think Mr. Hardin could have hired someone better than me for the real job, too,” Kennrick said calmly. “Fortunately, it’s too late for him to reconsider.”

“If I were you, I wouldn’t make assumptions like that,” I warned. “Not with Hardin. And of course, there was the near-riot you sparked by starting the rumor back in third class that I’d done away with
Logra
Emikai. That whole thing made no sense until I realized its purpose was to maneuver Bayta and me into a situation where you’d get to see the
kwi
in action again.”

“Now,
that
one you shouldn’t have caught,” Kennrick commented. “Excellent. I can see why Mr. Hardin was so complimentary about you.”

“He was complimentary about
me
?”

“Within the context of hating your guts, yes,” Kennrick said. “Anything else? Come on—honest criticism is how we learn to do better the next time.”

Only there wouldn’t be a next time, I knew. The last thing the Spiders could afford—the last thing
any
of us could afford—was for him to make it to the next station and send a report back to Hardin on the success of his ghoulish little mission. One way or another, Kennrick was going to have to die aboard this train.

Even if Bayta had to die along with him.

“Compton?” Kennrick prompted. “You still there?”

“I’m still here,” I assured him.

“Anything else?”

“Just one more,” I said. “The bit that finally caught my attention. Remember when we hauled Emikai in here two nights ago and he was looking around trying to figure out if I really had a spectroscopic analyzer? He spent a lot of that time looking at my luggage, because obviously something like that would have to take up a lot of space.”

“Obviously,” Kennrick said. “So?”

“It got me thinking about the morning after Colix’s death, when you barged into my compartment also wanting to see the results of my tissue analysis,” I said. “Only unlike Emikai, you never even glanced at my luggage. Your eyes went instantly to my reader. My one-of-a-kind, high-tech, super-spy-loaded reader.” I cocked my head. “Only it isn’t one-of-a-kind anymore, is it?”

“Not anymore, no,” he agreed. “You know, I never even thought about that.
Damn
, but you’re good.”

“You’re too kind,” I said. “Yours must be even more interesting than mine for you to have sacrificed your high-ground bluff to keep it out of my hands.”

“Oh, it’s probably no more advanced than yours,” Kennrick said. “But I could hardly let you go poking around the encrypted files where my detailed report was hidden. Not with your familiarity with the thing.”

“Interesting,” I said. “Actually, my plan was just to show them that your reader was gimmicked like nothing they’d ever seen before. It never occurred to me that you’d be careless enough to actually have the data sitting in there where someone could find it.”

“You’re kidding,” Kennrick said, looking chagrined. “Well,
damn
it all. I guess I should have stood my ground a little longer.”

“It wouldn’t have made a difference,” I said. “We already knew enough about the killings to put you on ice, with or without Worrbin’s approval.”

“Speaking of which, what do you think of the method?” Kennrick asked. “Pretty clever, eh?”

“Hellishly clever,” I agreed, my stomach tightening. Back in my Westali days, I reflected, I could actually sit back and dispassionately discuss techniques for murder and torture without qualms. Not anymore. Not with Bayta’s life in this lunatic’s hands. “Where did you come up with a bacterium that could pack away that much heavy metal, anyway?”

Kennrick barked a laugh. “You want the real irony? That strain was originally designed with an eye toward
curing
heavy-metal poisoning. You inject the bacteria into the patient and let the little bugs spread out through his system, gobbling up every heavy-metal atom they happen across. Since their own biochemistry actually needs the stuff for reproduction, they multiply like crazy, but only up to the point where the metal’s all been found and locked up. All you do then is flush them out of the system, and voilà—patient’s cured. Send him home and charge his account.”

“Only here you reversed the process,” I said. “You spent the torchliner trip from Earth feeding the Shorshians bacteria that were already loaded to the gills with cadmium. You gave it a couple of weeks on the Quadrail to settle into their deep tissues, then uncorked a bottle of that really high-power antiseptic spray we found in the air filter. The bacteria die, in the process dumping their supplies of cadmium into the Shorshians’ bodies, and we’ve got three impossible murders.”

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Kennrick said, a disturbing glint in his eyes. “There are no warning symptoms because the bacteria have the metal solidly locked up. The Spiders’ sensors won’t notice anything, because the bacteria themselves are perfectly benign and the detectors aren’t keyed for anything as low-level as basic elements. You can pick your time and place—hell, you don’t even have to be anywhere near your victim when he’s supposedly poisoned. It’s the perfect crime.”

“Only if you make sure there aren’t any Fillies around,” I pointed out.

His lip twisted. “There is that,” he conceded. “I didn’t realize how potent that spray really was, or that it would go deep enough to kill off Filiaelian gleaner bacteria. Too bad about Givvrac, really. I kind of liked the old coot. He was so—I don’t know. So old-world calcified, I guess. Wanting everything to be just like it had always been.”

“As opposed to the new world order you and Hardin are trying to make?”

“Not
trying
to make, Compton,” he corrected me softly. “
Going
to make.”

“Right,” I said. “So why let Tririn live? And why steal Colix’s throat lozenges that last night, when he thought you were putting them away for him?”

“Oh, come now,” Kennrick chided. “What’s a good murder without a suspect or two? Tririn’s annoyance over Colix’s throat operation made him the perfect patsy. I figured all I had to do was make the lozenges mysteriously disappear, to make it seem like Tririn was trying to cover up what Colix had done, and you’d fall all over yourself burying him in circumstantial evidence.”

“Without nailing down the method?” I shook my head. “Not a chance.”

“It was still worth a try,” Kennrick said. “Besides, this was an experiment, remember? I wanted to see what effect distance from the antiseptic spray had on the bacteria’s demise. Apparently, Master Bofiv was right on the edge—that’s why it took him longer to croak—and Master Tririn was just past it.” He picked up his reader from beside him on the bed and held it up for me to see. “It’s all in my report,” he added, a mocking edge to his tone.

“What about Strinni?”

“What about him?” Kennrick asked. “Oh—you mean the extra necrovri-laden bacterial strain I put in his food?” He shrugged. “I thought that as long as I was at it I might as well test the bacteria that had been designed to carry more complex molecules. Strinni was the perfect candidate for that one, sitting isolated from the others up in first class and all.” He snorted gently. “Also the perfect candidate because he didn’t usually eat with the other Shorshians aboard the torchliner. Made it easy to feed him his special servings without getting it mixed in with the others’ dosages.”

“As well as making him look like a drug addict to his fellow Quadrail passengers?” I suggested.

Kennrick shrugged again. “I never liked him anyway.”

“And the thing with
Logra
Emikai and
Osantra
Qiddicoj?”

He frowned. “What thing?”

“Cutting Emikai loose and pumping Qiddicoj full of hypnotic,” I said. “How did you pull that one off?”

He frowned a little harder. “Sorry, but you’ve lost me,” he said. “But enough reminiscing. You ready to take a few orders?”

“Not yet,” I said, frowning in turn. If Kennrick hadn’t been involved with Emikai’s mysterious midnight visitor… but there was no time to worry about that now. “I want to know first what’s going to happen to Bayta,” I said. “She obviously can’t sleep sitting up in that chair.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got things rigged so that I can let her lie down on the floor later,” Kennrick assured me. “It’s going to be a little hard on her back, but there’s only one bed in here. Unless she wants to share?”

“I don’t think so,” I said, sternly forcing back a sudden surge of rage. If he so much as touched her… “Let me go get her a pillow and blanket.”

“From your compartment?” he countered. “Sorry. I’m not letting you go pick through whatever other goodies you’ve got back there and try to smuggle something in. Before you leave, you can grab a pillow and blanket from right there behind you and stuff them through the gap.”

“Good enough,” I said. Not that I had anything in my compartment that would help Bayta anyway. “What about food?”

“Not a problem,” he said. “I have enough ration bars to last me to Venidra Carvo.” He raised his eyebrows. “Sorry—did you mean food for
her
?”

I took a deep breath, again forcing down my anger. He was taunting me, I knew, trying to see how far he could push before I lost it.

He could just keep pushing. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. More to the point, I wasn’t going to let anger crowd out brainpower that would be better used for tactical thinking. “We’ve got plenty of other ration bars aboard,” I said. “Let me get her some.”

“In a bit,” Kennrick said. “My turn now?”

I swallowed. “Go ahead.”

“Okay,” he said. “First of all, obviously, no one is to attempt to come in here. Not you, not the Spiders, not anyone.”

“Don’t worry,” I said, eyeing the glinting wires wrapped around Bayta’s throat. “How the hell did you get all that wire past the Spiders’ sensors, anyway?”

“Ah, ah—
my
turn,” Kennrick said firmly. “When we get to Venidra Carvo, I get to walk free and clear without interference. Sorry—
we
get to walk free and clear.”

I saw the muscles in Bayta’s throat tighten, a sudden stricken look in her eyes. Apparently, she hadn’t thought past our arrival at Venidra Carvo. “You planning to take her along all the way back to Earth?” I asked Kennrick.

“Why not?” Kennrick said blandly, letting his eyes run up and down Bayta’s body. “I’m sure she’s very pleasant company.” He looked back at me and gave me a faint smile. “Relax, Compton. She stays with me only until I feel safe. At that point, I turn her loose. I promise.”

As if the promise of a murderer was worth a damn. “Fine,” I said. “Anything else?”

“Yes; the accommodations,” he said. “Rather, everyone else’s accommodations. I’m sure you’ve already made plans to isolate me by moving everyone else out of this car?”

“We thought it would help keep down the noise,” I said. “You know how neighbors can be.”

“Oh, there’s no need to convince me,” he said. “I agree completely. In fact, let’s go whole hog and move everyone out of all three compartment cars.”

I frowned. “
All
of them?”

“Like you said, peace and quiet. You’ve got two hours to get everyone out of here. Including you.”

“I’d like to stay, if you don’t mind,” I offered. “You might realize there’s something else you need.”

“I do mind, and I won’t need anything,” he said coolly. “More to the point, I want to know that any noises I hear in the night aren’t coming from some clumsy Shorshian falling out of bed. This way, anything I hear after the next two hours will be unauthorized.” He shifted his gaze to Bayta. “And will be dealt with accordingly.”

“I already said there wouldn’t be any intrusions.”

“This way, I’ll know you mean it,” he countered. “You’d better get going—you’ve got a lot to do in the next two hours.”

“Look, Kennrick, I understand—”

“Just go, Frank,” Bayta interrupted tautly. “You heard him. Go, and start getting it done.”

I frowned at her. There was a tightness around her eyes that hadn’t been there a minute ago. Was she suddenly worried about Kennrick’s order to move everyone out?

I didn’t know. But whatever the reason, I’d clearly run dry on hospitality here. “Okay, I’m going,” I said. “First let me get your bedding for you.”

I crossed the room and pulled the pillow and blankets off Minnario’s bed, wincing at the thought of him about to be kicked out of his compartment for the second time today. I thought about asking Kennrick if he would make an exception, decided I might as well save my breath. A four-time murderer was hardly likely to have any residual compassion for children, puppies, or cripples.