Fang Mountain,” he said. “It’s on Ian-apof, one of the systems bordering the Tra’hok Unity.”
Nowhere near Sistarrko, then. I started breathing again. “And you think they’ll lead you to Stafford?”
“I don’t know, but at the moment, they’re all we have.” Morse’s lips compressed. “Unfortunately, they were on the express train that left an hour ago.”
“Any of these friends particularly close to Stafford?” I asked.
“Penny Auslander,” Morse said. “Twenty-three years old, daughter of the financier Charles Auslander of Zurich. She was Stafford’s girlfriend all last school year, and there’s no indication the relationship has cooled any.”
“Really,” I said. Penny’s name had been the first one on ESS’s list of Stafford’s friends, but there hadn’t been anything about them being snuggly. “How do you know?”
Morse smiled tightly, patting the side pocket on his slacks. “Not all the data chips end up in the data chip case,” he said. “There was a set of follow-up information that came on its own chip.”
“I’d like to see that.”
“I’m sure you would,” he countered. “Not going to happen.”
I shrugged. We’d see about that. “Fine. What class are you traveling?”
“I have a six-week first-class pass,” Morse said, his smile fading into a frown. “Why?”
“We need to know what kind of seats to get,” I said. “Get your shoes and jacket and meet us in the lobby.”
“Just a moment,” he growled as he sat up. This time, he didn’t fall over. “You haven’t told me what Künstler said to you before he died.”
“It wasn’t much, actually,” I said. “I told him who I was, he said he trusted me, then he told me about the Lynx—”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Morse interrupted. “He said he trusted you?”
“Or words to that effect,” I said. “He mentioned the Lynx, then he mentioned Daniel, then he died.”
“Just Daniel?” Morse asked. “Not Daniel Stafford?”
Künstler’s fading voice echoed again in my ears. Daniel—Daniel Mice . “No, just Daniel,” I told Morse. “Now finish getting dressed while I get us some seats.”
“You just get seats for wherever you’re going,” Morse said as he started putting on his shoes. “I can get my own.”
“Fine,” I said. Nudging Bayta, I moved us out into the corridor.
“Are we just getting two seats, then?” she asked as we headed toward the lobby.
“We’re getting three,” I told her. “We need to find Stafford and the Lynx before the Modhri does, and Morse has some of the pieces to that puzzle. I want to stay with him as long as we can.”
“He may not like that.”
“He’s welcome to wait for another train,” I said shortly. “First things first. I presume our friend Ms. Auslander will need to change trains at some point on her way to Ian-apof?”
“At least twice,” Bayta said, frowning in concentration. “The first change will be at either Homshil or Jurskala.”
“Have the stationmaster pull her itinerary and find out which it is,” I said. “Then have him send a message ahead to the stationmaster there to keep her from getting on her next train.”
Bayta blinked. “How is he going to do that?”
“Have the Spiders tell her there’s some problem with her transfer,” I said. “Or that her ticket record’s been lost, or her ID’s not reading right and they’ll need to message back to Terra for confirmation.”
She gave me the same look she’d used earlier when I’d suggested smoking the Gang of Fifteen out of their compartment with a fake fire. “I suppose they can do that,” she said reluctantly.
“Don’t worry, it won’t go on anyone’s personal record,” I soothed her. “We just need to hold this girl in one place long enough to catch up with her.”
“And then what?” Bayta asked. “What if she doesn’t know where Mr. Stafford is?”
“Let’s play this one move at a time, okay?” I said, a smoothly evasive way of
Nowhere near Sistarrko, then. I started breathing again. “And you think they’ll lead you to Stafford?”
“I don’t know, but at the moment, they’re all we have.” Morse’s lips compressed. “Unfortunately, they were on the express train that left an hour ago.”
“Any of these friends particularly close to Stafford?” I asked.
“Penny Auslander,” Morse said. “Twenty-three years old, daughter of the financier Charles Auslander of Zurich. She was Stafford’s girlfriend all last school year, and there’s no indication the relationship has cooled any.”
“Really,” I said. Penny’s name had been the first one on ESS’s list of Stafford’s friends, but there hadn’t been anything about them being snuggly. “How do you know?”
Morse smiled tightly, patting the side pocket on his slacks. “Not all the data chips end up in the data chip case,” he said. “There was a set of follow-up information that came on its own chip.”
“I’d like to see that.”
“I’m sure you would,” he countered. “Not going to happen.”
I shrugged. We’d see about that. “Fine. What class are you traveling?”
“I have a six-week first-class pass,” Morse said, his smile fading into a frown. “Why?”
“We need to know what kind of seats to get,” I said. “Get your shoes and jacket and meet us in the lobby.”
“Just a moment,” he growled as he sat up. This time, he didn’t fall over. “You haven’t told me what Künstler said to you before he died.”
“It wasn’t much, actually,” I said. “I told him who I was, he said he trusted me, then he told me about the Lynx—”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Morse interrupted. “He said he trusted you?”
“Or words to that effect,” I said. “He mentioned the Lynx, then he mentioned Daniel, then he died.”
“Just Daniel?” Morse asked. “Not Daniel Stafford?”
Künstler’s fading voice echoed again in my ears. Daniel—Daniel Mice . “No, just Daniel,” I told Morse. “Now finish getting dressed while I get us some seats.”
“You just get seats for wherever you’re going,” Morse said as he started putting on his shoes. “I can get my own.”
“Fine,” I said. Nudging Bayta, I moved us out into the corridor.
“Are we just getting two seats, then?” she asked as we headed toward the lobby.
“We’re getting three,” I told her. “We need to find Stafford and the Lynx before the Modhri does, and Morse has some of the pieces to that puzzle. I want to stay with him as long as we can.”
“He may not like that.”
“He’s welcome to wait for another train,” I said shortly. “First things first. I presume our friend Ms. Auslander will need to change trains at some point on her way to Ian-apof?”
“At least twice,” Bayta said, frowning in concentration. “The first change will be at either Homshil or Jurskala.”
“Have the stationmaster pull her itinerary and find out which it is,” I said. “Then have him send a message ahead to the stationmaster there to keep her from getting on her next train.”
Bayta blinked. “How is he going to do that?”
“Have the Spiders tell her there’s some problem with her transfer,” I said. “Or that her ticket record’s been lost, or her ID’s not reading right and they’ll need to message back to Terra for confirmation.”
She gave me the same look she’d used earlier when I’d suggested smoking the Gang of Fifteen out of their compartment with a fake fire. “I suppose they can do that,” she said reluctantly.
“Don’t worry, it won’t go on anyone’s personal record,” I soothed her. “We just need to hold this girl in one place long enough to catch up with her.”
“And then what?” Bayta asked. “What if she doesn’t know where Mr. Stafford is?”
“Let’s play this one move at a time, okay?” I said, a smoothly evasive way of
Similar Books
