Timothy Zahn - Night Train to Rigel

“I still have my Quadrail pass,” I reminded her. “And with Hardin still steaming, the less time I spend in the Terran Confederation, the better.” I consulted my watch. “The next Quadrail to the Bellidosh Estates-General will be hitting the platform in fifteen minutes. This morning’s news said another coral display on Bellis had been mysteriously vandalized, so I presume Fayr and his commandos are still alive and kicking. I thought I might head over there and try to reestablish contact with him.”

“Good idea,” she said, getting to her feet. “Would you—I mean—”

“Like a little companionship?” I finished for her as I stood up as well. “I thought you’d never ask.”

She paid the bill, and we headed for the platform. “There’s something I never got around to asking you,” she said as we skirted around a drudge carrying a piece of oversized luggage toward one of the other platforms. “Back on the Quadrail, McMicking said something about Mr. Hardin protecting his investments. What did he mean by that?”

“He meant me,” I told her. “Hardin had hired me for a private job. Just hired me, in fact—we’d only just finalized the details when your messenger showed up with that Quadrail ticket.”

“I didn’t know that,” she said, her voice suddenly sounding wary. “You never said anything to Hermod about another job.”

“I thought it might have been a little awkward,” I said with a shrug. “You know these ultra-rich people—always looking for new challenges, new vistas, new business conquests. And always in dead secret, of course, lest some competitor get wind of the plan and beat them to it.”

“I suppose,” she said doubtfully. “What were you supposed to do for him?”

I smiled as I gazed down the Tube. In a universe awash in irony, this was the best one of them all. “He wanted me to find a way for him to take over the Quadrail system,” I told her. “I think that’s our train coming now.”