toxin took longer to work on him,” Rastra said.
“Yes,” I murmured. A nice, neat answer. Far too neat for my taste, especially since it completely sidestepped the question of how the thieves had managed to get into JhanKla’s lockbox in the first place.
But I wasn’t here to interrogate a member of the Halkan Peerage. Besides, I was pretty sure I already knew the answer. “Lucky for me he didn’t connect with that attack,” I said instead.
“Indeed,” JhanKla agreed, eyeing me curiously. “What exactly did you do to provoke him?”
“I wish I knew,” I said ruefully. “I was simply asking about a Halkan resort they’d mentioned to me aboard the Quadrail.”
“Which one?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “That was what I had hoped to learn from them.”
“You told me it was a place with outdoor sports and unique views,” Rastra said. “Does that sound familiar, High Commissioner?”
“There are only a few million such places in the Halkavisti Empire,” JhanKla said dryly. “But I will consider the question.” He looked at Bayta and me. “In the meantime, one of my servitors will take your belongings to your rooms.”
“Thank you, but we can handle them,” I assured him, picking up my carrybags again. “Besides, I’m looking forward to seeing my compartment.”
“As you wish,” JhanKla said. “They are the last two on the left at the rear of the car.”
“Thank you,” I said again. “Come on, Bayta.”
Beyond the lounge the corridor curved around a compact food prep area and then led into a dining room as lovingly and meticulously decorated as the lounge. Passing the carved-wood table and matching chairs, we reached the sleeping compartments at the other end of the car. “You take this one,” I told Bayta over my shoulder, nodding to the first of the two as I passed it. Reaching the second door, I touched the release and went inside.
The Spiders had made a career of moving people around the galaxy in compartments this size, and they’d obviously put a lot of thought into the design and furnishings. Form following function and all that, there had been little the Halkan designers had been able to do to improve on the basic layout, so they’d contented themselves with simply upgrading the pretension level. That meant more carved wood on the walls, more furstone mosaic on the floor, more gold and crystal and marbling everywhere else. But at least they’d passed on the caged rainbirds.
I had just heaved my carrybags up onto the luggage rack—hand-carved, naturally, with some kind of ivory inlays—when a delicate tone issued from the door. “Come in,” I called.
To my complete lack of surprise, it was Bayta. “That was quick,” I commented as she walked in. There was an odd hesitation to her step, I noted, as if she were afraid of damaging the furstone floor.
“We can’t stay here,” she said without prologue. “We shouldn’t even have visited.”
Oh, come, now,” I chided. “How could we be so ill-mannered as to refuse the High Commissioner’s hospitality? Especially since the Jurian Collective insists on it?”
“The Collective is wrong,” she said flatly. “Here in the Tube we aren’t in Jurian territory, and their protocol system has no legal authority.” Her lips compressed briefly. “I tried to tell you that, back on the transfer station. You didn’t let me finish.”
“Of course not,” I said. “I couldn’t let you ruin such a nicely executed setup.”
The skin of her face seemed to shrink back a little. “What do you mean?” she asked carefully.
“You don’t think all this happened by accident, do you?” I asked taking a quick pass by the computer and then circling to the curve couch and sitting down. No warnings from my watch; apparently the Halkan Peerage didn’t stoop to bugging the compartments of their guests. “Come on, sit down,” I said, patting the couch beside me. “We might as well be comfortable.”
Slowly,
“Yes,” I murmured. A nice, neat answer. Far too neat for my taste, especially since it completely sidestepped the question of how the thieves had managed to get into JhanKla’s lockbox in the first place.
But I wasn’t here to interrogate a member of the Halkan Peerage. Besides, I was pretty sure I already knew the answer. “Lucky for me he didn’t connect with that attack,” I said instead.
“Indeed,” JhanKla agreed, eyeing me curiously. “What exactly did you do to provoke him?”
“I wish I knew,” I said ruefully. “I was simply asking about a Halkan resort they’d mentioned to me aboard the Quadrail.”
“Which one?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “That was what I had hoped to learn from them.”
“You told me it was a place with outdoor sports and unique views,” Rastra said. “Does that sound familiar, High Commissioner?”
“There are only a few million such places in the Halkavisti Empire,” JhanKla said dryly. “But I will consider the question.” He looked at Bayta and me. “In the meantime, one of my servitors will take your belongings to your rooms.”
“Thank you, but we can handle them,” I assured him, picking up my carrybags again. “Besides, I’m looking forward to seeing my compartment.”
“As you wish,” JhanKla said. “They are the last two on the left at the rear of the car.”
“Thank you,” I said again. “Come on, Bayta.”
Beyond the lounge the corridor curved around a compact food prep area and then led into a dining room as lovingly and meticulously decorated as the lounge. Passing the carved-wood table and matching chairs, we reached the sleeping compartments at the other end of the car. “You take this one,” I told Bayta over my shoulder, nodding to the first of the two as I passed it. Reaching the second door, I touched the release and went inside.
The Spiders had made a career of moving people around the galaxy in compartments this size, and they’d obviously put a lot of thought into the design and furnishings. Form following function and all that, there had been little the Halkan designers had been able to do to improve on the basic layout, so they’d contented themselves with simply upgrading the pretension level. That meant more carved wood on the walls, more furstone mosaic on the floor, more gold and crystal and marbling everywhere else. But at least they’d passed on the caged rainbirds.
I had just heaved my carrybags up onto the luggage rack—hand-carved, naturally, with some kind of ivory inlays—when a delicate tone issued from the door. “Come in,” I called.
To my complete lack of surprise, it was Bayta. “That was quick,” I commented as she walked in. There was an odd hesitation to her step, I noted, as if she were afraid of damaging the furstone floor.
“We can’t stay here,” she said without prologue. “We shouldn’t even have visited.”
Oh, come, now,” I chided. “How could we be so ill-mannered as to refuse the High Commissioner’s hospitality? Especially since the Jurian Collective insists on it?”
“The Collective is wrong,” she said flatly. “Here in the Tube we aren’t in Jurian territory, and their protocol system has no legal authority.” Her lips compressed briefly. “I tried to tell you that, back on the transfer station. You didn’t let me finish.”
“Of course not,” I said. “I couldn’t let you ruin such a nicely executed setup.”
The skin of her face seemed to shrink back a little. “What do you mean?” she asked carefully.
“You don’t think all this happened by accident, do you?” I asked taking a quick pass by the computer and then circling to the curve couch and sitting down. No warnings from my watch; apparently the Halkan Peerage didn’t stoop to bugging the compartments of their guests. “Come on, sit down,” I said, patting the couch beside me. “We might as well be comfortable.”
Slowly,
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