Timothy Zahn - The Domino Pattern

“Exactly my point,” I said. “Even small amounts of poisons typically generate obvious symptoms in that species. If Colix and Bofiv had ingested the stuff gradually, over the past few days, the symptoms would have shown up long ago. The only conclusion is that they were both nailed with large, lethal doses, all at once. That kind of dosage doesn’t usually happen by accident.”

For another few seconds Bayta remained silent. But I could see the shock fading from her face as she realized I was making sense. “All right,” she said slowly. “But why would anyone want to kill them?”

“I haven’t the faintest,” I conceded. “Actually, it’s worse than that. We don’t even know yet that they were specifically targeted.”

Her eyes did the widening thing again. “You mean the killings might have been random?”

“Or the killer was aiming at someone else and missed,” I said. “But one thing at a time. The easiest method for delivering poison is by food or drink, since everybody eats and nine out of ten people don’t pay that much attention to their food while they’re eating it.”

“Yes,” Bayta said thoughtfully. “Shorshic meals usually include a common dipping dish, don’t they?”

“That’s what the cultural profiles say,” I confirmed. “Which would certainly make surreptitious tampering easier. The downside is that the poisoner pretty much has to be in the same group as the victim—a stranger leaning in so he can sprinkle fairy dust into a dipping dish in the middle of the table would be a little obvious.”

“But if the poisoner was also a Shorshian, wouldn’t he run the risk of being poisoned himself?” Bayta asked.

“Absolutely,” I said. “Which is one of several intriguing questions about this whole thing. Namely, were both Colix and Bofiv murdered by a third party? Or could Bofiv have murdered Colix and then gotten caught in his own backfire?”

“Or vice versa?” Bayta suggested. “Master Colix murdering Master Bofiv?”

“Possibly,” I agreed. “Colix would have to be a particularly incompetent killer for that scenario to work, but I’ve known my share of inept criminals. Still, it’s more likely that the killer was someone else at their table.”

Bayta’s eyes went distant for a moment as she communed silently with the Spiders. “The servers don’t have that information.”

“That’s all right,” I said. “We’ll corner Tririn later and ask him for yesterday’s guest list.”

Bayta was silent a moment. “Do you think the Modhri might be involved in all this?”

“That’s definitely my default reflex these days,” I said. “But we need some kind of motive before we start trying to pin this on the Modhri or anyone else.” I cocked an eyebrow. “Why? Is your spider-sense tingling?”

She frowned. “My what?”

“Skip it,” I said, making a mental note to add those dit rec adventures to the list of cultural classics I’d been showing her. “Can you think of some reason why he might want to kill a couple of Shorshians?”

“Not really,” she said. “But I’ve been thinking a lot about him lately. Trying to get into his mind, to understand what he wants.”

“I thought he wanted to take over the galaxy.”

“Yes, but to what end?” she asked. “The Shonkla-raa certainly had a purpose—they wanted him to infiltrate the rebel forces and destroy them from within. But he doesn’t have that purpose anymore. He doesn’t have any real purpose.”

“I don’t know,” I said doubtfully. “To me, taking over the galaxy sounds like a pretty solid reason for living.”

“You know what I mean,” Bayta said. “The Modhri isn’t conquering so that he can institute political or economic changes, or even just so he can loot his victims.”

“Okay, so he’s unfocused,” I said. “So what?”

Bayta shook her head. “I keep thinking that he’s like a weapon that’s been left on a shelf,” she said pensively. “A sword, maybe. He can fall off. and he can do a lot of damage on his way down, but he’s still just flailing about without serving a genuine purpose. That has to be frustrating and frightening both.”

“So you’re thinking he might throw up his hands and quit in disgust?” I suggested dryly.

“I’m wondering if he might go insane.”

Something with a lot of cold feet skittered down my spine. “Oh. now there’s a cheerful thought.” I muttered.

“I’m sorry,” Bayta apologized. “I probably shouldn’t even have brought it up. I just …it’s been bothering me lately.”

“No need to apologize.” I assured her. Privately, I thought the whole idea a bit far-fetched—from what I’d seen of the Modhri, he didn’t strike me as the neurotic type. But I also knew better than to dismiss anything Bayta said without at least considering it. “It’s definitely worth thinking about. Only not right now. Any word from di -Master Strinni?”

Bayta’s eyes went distant. “He’s just given Dr. Witherspoon permission to take blood and tissue samples from Master Bofiv.”

“Good,” I said, setting the meal box back on its stack. “Let’s go make sure he does it right.”

“All right.” Bayta hesitated. “ Di -Master Strinni has also insisted that Master Colix’s body be removed for storage.”

“Removed for storage where?”

“He asked that it be put in one of the baggage cars,” Bayta said. “The Spiders are taking it back there now.”

“Where are they going to put it?” I asked. “They can’t just leave it lying around the aisles. More importantly, how are they going to seal it away from the rest of the train? It’s still four weeks to Venidra Carvo, and things are going to get pretty ripe back there if they don’t do something.”

“They’re constructing an isolation tank where they can store the body,” she said. “They’re also looking into whether they can use the same preservation techniques they use for food.”

I tried to visualize the Spiders freeze-drying Colix’s body, but I’d had enough disturbing images for one night. “Did Strinni say why he wanted Colix’s body moved?”

“Only that he wanted the body to be as much at rest as possible.”

More likely he didn’t want Witherspoon’s scalpel slipping during Bofiv’s autopsy and cutting into his fellow Pathmate by accident. “Whatever,” I said. “Come on. let’s go.”

We left the dining car and headed forward. On the way we passed a pair of conductors carrying the late Master Colix, his body wrapped in one of the dispensary’s thermal blankets. Briefly, I wondered how many people in third class might be awake, and how many of those might recognize the bundle for what it was. But there was nothing I could do about it, so I put the thought out of my mind.

We reached the dispensary to find Dr. Aronobal and the server Spider still standing their quiet vigil over the remaining body. “The Spiders came in a few minutes ago and removed Master Colix’s body,” Aronobal said.

“Yes, we passed them on the way.” I said, peering at Bofiv’s body. It didn’t seem to have been touched in the time Bayta and I had been gone.

“You and your companion speak to the Spiders,” Aronobal said.

It had been phrased as a statement, not a question. “Of course we do,” I said. “Everyone does. We ask them for directions to the dining car, where we can stow our valuables—”

“Not everyone talks to them as you do,” she cut me off, her eyes peering unblinkingly at me down her long nose. “You have a special relationship with them.”

“We just travel a lot,” I assured him. “We’ve gotten to know the Spiders pretty well.”