Night Train to Rigel Read Online Free PDF Page A

convolutions we’d gone through to keep it secret.
    On the other hand, it was equally hard to imagine how they could not know. Their messenger had been right there, after all, right outside the New Pallas Towers the evening the whole thing had been finalized.
    But there was no hint of any such secret knowledge in Hermod’s face or body language. There was no anticipation I could detect no sense of the hunter waiting eagerly beside his trap as the prey wanders toward the tripwire. There was nothing there, in fact except an almost puppy-dog earnestness set against a background of distant fear and unease. If he did know about me, he was being damn coy about it “So my present circumstances aren’t as good as I might like,” I said. “How about some information instead of flattery?”
    His lips puckered. “There are many mysterious places in this galaxy,” he said. “One of them, which the Spiders have dubbed the Oracle, sits a short distance from a siding similar to this one. Occasionally, Spiders passing through the area see visions of future events.” He gestured at the Spider standing over him. “Five weeks ago, this Spider saw the future destruction of a Filiaelian transfer station.”
    I sat up a little straighter in my chair. Filly transfer stations were among the biggest and best-protected in the galaxy. “How sure are you that it was a Filly station?”
    “Very sure,” Hermod said, his voice darkening. “Because there were the remains of two gutted Sorfali -class warships drifting alongside it.”
    I threw a look at the Spider. “Your friend’s been hallucinating,” I said flatly. “Filly soldiers are genetically programmed against rebellion or civil war.”
    “I never said it was a civil war,” Hermod countered, his voice going even darker. “The attack came from somewhere outside the system.”
    I looked over at The Girl’s expressionless face. If this was a joke, no one was laughing. “Now you’re the one hallucinating,” I told Hermod. “You can’t smuggle weaponry through the Tube. Certainly nothing that could take out a Sorfali . You know that better than I do.”
    “It seems impossible to the Spiders, as well,” Hermod agreed. “Nevertheless, that is what he saw. And since the Oracle’s past visions have subsequently proven valid, the Spiders have no choice but to assume this one may, too.” His eyes locked onto mine. “I trust you don’t need me to spell out the implications.”
    “No,” I said, and I meant it. There were twelve empires spanning the galaxy, or at least twelve species-groups the Spiders officially recognized as empires. A few of them, like the five worlds of our pathetic little Terran Confederation, weren’t worthy of the name; others, like the Filiaelian Assembly and Shorshic Domain, were the genuine article, consisting of thousands of star systems spread across vast reaches of space. Historically, at least on Earth, powerful empires seldom bumped into each other without eventually going to war, and from what we knew of alien psychology there was no reason to assume anyone out there would react any differently if they had a choice.
    Only in this case, they didn’t. The only way to cross interstellar distances was via Quadrail, and there was simply no way to stuff a war machine into a group of Quadrail cars. The only exception was interstellar governments, who under very special and very strict transport conditions were allowed to ship the components of planetary defenses through to their own colonies.
    Which meant that anyone who wanted to make war against his neighbor would find himself facing as much military nastiness as the intended victim had felt inclined to set up. In a Quadrail-run galaxy, defense was king.
    But if someone had figured out how to take out not only a transfer station but a couple of warships along with it, cozy peacefulness and stability were about to come to a violent end. “Was there anything else in this vision?” I asked. “Any