Timothy Zahn - The Domino Pattern

“That’s fine—you’ve been very helpful,” I assured him. “Thank you.” I turned back to Tririn. “My apologies.” I said. “For the interruption in our talk, I ask your forgiveness.”

[Freely and openly granted,] he assured me. [Do you believe the death was in these Humans?]

“I don’t know yet,” I said. “Two further questions, if I may. First, do you know whether either Master Colix or Master Bofiv had a private food supply? Something they brought aboard, as opposed to something supplied by the servers aboard the train?”

[Master Bofiv had no such supply,] Tririn said. [I would surely have seen if he had.]

“And Master Colix?”

[I don’t know,] Tririn said. [You would need to inquire of one of his seatmates.]

“I’ll do that,” I promised. “Final question, then. Whose idea was it for Master Colix to sit away from you and Master Bofiv?”

[It was Master Colix’s choice,] Tririn said. [He asked specifically for that seat.]

Which was more or less what Terese had implied earlier. “Was there some trouble between the three of you?” I asked.

[Not at all,] Tririn said. [Master Colix prided himself on his knowledge of alien languages. He hoped that seated between a Human and Juri he would have the opportunity to practice and improve his skill at both languages.]

“Really,” I said. “I was under the impression that Shorshic vocal apparatus couldn’t handle either of them.”

Tririn seemed to draw back, as if suddenly realizing he had strayed onto forbidden territory. [There are ways,] he said, his tone guarded.

“Ah “ I said, keeping my expression neutral. According to my reader’s data files, that was an outright lie. Shorshians were completely incapable of speaking anything but Shishish and a smattering of Fili unless they’d had what was rather sarcastically referred to as the Gibber Operation.

Had Colix gone under the knife? I couldn’t tell—Tririn’s phrasing had left that ambiguous, possibly deliberately so. It was clear, though, that he didn’t want to discuss it further.

But there were other ways to get the answer to that one. If Master Colix had been able to speak English or Juric, one of his seatmates would surely know it. “I thank you for your time and patience, Master Tririn,” I said. “Especially on this day of sadness. I hope you’ll be equally gracious should I need to discuss the matter with you further.”

[I will be most pleased to do so, Mr. Compton,] he said. His eyes flicked to Kennrick. [ You are welcome to approach at any time.]

“Thank you,” I said. “Good day, Master Tririn.”

I sidled past the Nemut with a nod of thanks, brushed by Kennrick, and headed up the aisle toward the front of the car. I was passing Terese’s empty seat when Kennrick caught up with me. “Wait a minute,” he said in a low voice. “Damn it, Compton— wait .”

“Problem?” I asked, not breaking stride.

“Yes, problem ,” he gritted out. “You may be the hotshot detective, but even I know that basic investigative technique includes double-checking everyone’s story.”

“That’s exactly what I’m doing,” I told him. “Or had you forgotten that Ms. German is up here in the restroom?”

“I was thinking about the Juri in the other seat,” he growled, jerking a thumb back at Terese’s row. “The one Master Tririn claims Master Colix was speaking Juric to.”

“And you think I should question the Juri about that?” I asked mildly.

“Absolutely,” Kennrick said. “You were right—Shorshic vocal apparatus—”

“You think I should question the Juri about it while Master Tririn is within earshot of the conversation?”

“It wouldn’t be—” We broke off. “Oh. Right. That wouldn’t be very politic, would it?”

“Hardly politic at all,” I agreed. “But it you want to try it, be my guest.”

Kennrick grimaced. “I guess you’ve noticed that Master Tririn and I don’t get along very well.”

“It’s a little hard to miss,” I agreed. “What’s the problem?”

“I just can’t connect with him,” he said. “I really don’t know why.”

“Did you have the same problem when you were on Earth?”

“If we did, I didn’t notice it,” he said. “It was only after we came aboard the Quadrail at Terra Station that things started to go downhill.” He shrugged. “Of course, it could just be that he was on his best behavior during the discussions at Pellorian. Maybe even back then he didn’t really like me. Or the others.”

“He didn’t get along with the others?”

“I had that impression,” Kennrick said. “But it’s just an impression. Like I said, if there was trouble between them they probably wouldn’t confide in me. But it makes sense that if he had trouble with me, he might have had trouble with the others, too.”

“Perhaps,” I said. Though privately I could easily see how someone could love his fellow man and still not like Kennrick. “I’ll try to sound him out about that later.”

The outer restroom door was still closed when we reached it. I considered going inside and seeing if I could figure out which stall Terese was in, decided she would probably take violent offense if I tried, and found a place by the door where I could lean against the wall and cultivate patience. Taking his cue from me, Kennrick found a spot of his own a little farther up the car and did likewise.

Patience is always rewarded. A couple of minutes later the door opened and Terese stepped out. She looked a little pale, which meant that when she reddened with anger at seeing me standing there her color came out just about right. “Good morning, Ms. German,” I said, stepping into her path.

I expected her to try to push her way around me. Instead, she fired a withering glare in my direction, spun a hundred eighty degrees, and headed forward at the fastest walk she could manage without actually breaking into a jog. By the time I recovered from my surprise at her sudden about-face, she was into the vestibule and out of sight.

“Well, that’s inconvenient,” Kennrick growled.

“Relax,” I soothed him. “Where’s she going to go on a Quadrail?” I looked hack at the restroom door as Bayta emerged. “What’s the verdict?” I asked her.

“She was throwing up,” Bayta said. “I don’t know how bad it was—she wouldn’t let me help her.”

Kennrick swore under his breath. “So she’s definitely sick.” he said. “Compton, this has gone way beyond serious.”

“Relax,” I advised him. eyeing the vestibule door and thinking back to that last view I’d had of Terese’s face. In my experience, people with serious illnesses usually didn’t have the mental and emotional strength to spare for that level of annoyance. At least not against relative strangers.

“Because if you were wrong about the cadmium, and the Shorshians had something contagious—”

“I said relax ,” I repeated, more firmly this time. “Let’s not start a panic until it’s absolutely necessary, all right?”

He made a face, but nodded. “So what do we do?”

“We go after her,” I said. “Either she’s on her way to the shower/laundry car, which is unlikely since she hasn’t got a change of clothing with her, or else she’s headed for the dining car for something to settle her stomach.”

“Fine,” Kennrick asked in a tone of overstrained patience. “So can we go?”

In answer, I took Bayta’s arm and headed for the vestibule. Assuming Terese kept up the same pace that she’d left here with, by the time she reached the archway into the third-class dining car she would have quick-walked for most of three long Quadrail cars. All that exercise, plus her stomach trouble, should take some of the starch out of her and make her a little easier to question.