Free Night Train to Rigel by Timothy Zahn

I may have jumped to the wrong conclusion on this one.”
    “This is Bayta,” I told him. “She’s my assistant and recordist.”
    The minute I said it I wished I could call the words back. Bayta’s formal demeanor had unfortunately ruined our best choice of cover story, namely that of a romantic relationship, leaving a business relationship as the only other option.
    The problem was, Applegate had seen us on the Terra Station platform going our completely separate ways. The last thing I wanted was for him to remember that and start wondering.
    But it was too late now to come up with a better story. All I could do was ignore the inconsistency and hope he would simply assume we’d been doing independent studies for our mythical travel consortium. “Bayta, this is Mr. Terrance Applegate,” I continued the introductions. “Formerly a colonel in Western Alliance Intelligence; currently an advisor with the UN Directorate.”
    Bayta nodded. “Pleased to meet you,” she said, her voice still wary.
    “Likewise,” Applegate said. “Well, it’s been pleasant, Frank, but it’s been a long day and my eyes are starting to fall asleep.”
    “Of course,” I said, standing up. “By the way, you didn’t happen to see a couple of Halkas pass through here a minute or two ahead of me, did you?”
    “No, but I wasn’t really paying attention,” he said. “Is it important?”
    “Probably not,” I said, privately giving up the hunt. By now the Halkas had had plenty of time to change clothes and go to ground, and I didn’t feel like searching the entire Quadrail for them. I would just have to keep my eyes open and wait for them to surface again. “They seemed a little drunk when they came pounding on my door, and I wondered if someone should alert the conductors.”
    “I wouldn’t worry about it” Applegate advised. “I’ve never yet seen a drunk Halka get violent. And they’re not going to crush anyone to death if they pass out on top of him, like Cimma might.”
    “True,” I said. “Good night”
    Bayta didn’t speak again until we were back in the privacy of our compartment. “Is this Mr. Applegate a friend of yours?” she asked as I locked the door behind us.
    “Hardly,” I said. “He was one of my superiors at Westali.”
    “An acquaintance?”
    I shook my head. “Given that he was one of the people who voted to kick me out, I wouldn’t even put him that high on my list.”
    “More of an enemy, then?”
    “Not really that, either,” I said, wondering why Bayta was beating this particular horse to death. “Let’s just call him one of life’s little disappointments.”
    She seemed to mull that one over for a minute. “All right,” she said. “Are you planning to go out again tonight?”
    “Just in the unconscious sense of the word,” I said, hanging up my jacket and checking my watch. A little over eight hours to Kerfsis. Still enough time for a decent stretch of sleep, but no chance now for the leisurely breakfast I’d envisioned. “I’m going to bed.”
    “All right” For a moment her eyes searched my face. “Those two Halkas weren’t really drunk, were they?”
    I hesitated, the heavily ingrained Westali secrecy reflex briefly kicking in. There was so little I really knew about Bayta. “No,” I told her. “I don’t think they were looking for any friend, either.”
    “Were they looking for us?”
    “They weren’t still chiming doors when I got out into the corridor thirty seconds later,” I said. “Draw your own conclusions.”
    She looked over at the door I’d just locked. “Would you mind terribly if I left the wall open while we slept?”
    “As long as you don’t snore,” I said, going to the luggage rack and pulling down the larger of my carrybags. In point of fact, I’d been trying to find a way to suggest that myself.
    After all, if she knew about the Saarix-5 booby trap, it was a good bet that I’d be safe as long as she wasn’t demanding an airtight wall