Mirror Space - Marianne de Pierres [113]
Yet the news had spoken of a delegation of biozoons congesting a large area of dock availability. Mira Fedor’s Insignia was hidden out there among them. How did they partake in the summit? he wondered. Would the meeting somehow be brought to them?
No. OLOSS would never inconvenience themselves for minority aliens.
He asked the Directory to show him the traffic flow. The colours of the shifting icons told him that all lifts were busy. When he asked the Directory to confirm this, it told him that there were delays in moving around the station as Station Security performed random checks.
Thales’s trembling increased. If Fariss had taken the blame for Macken’s murder then he wouldn’t be listed as a criminal but he had no identification other than his aspect cube. Would that be enough to pass through Station Sec? How else could he reach the conference area?
Then he remembered how Gutnee Paraburd had taken him into the unseen corridors of Scolar station. All large transit stations have service areas, Gutnee had said.
‘Show me the service maps,’ he instructed the Directory.
‘Please provide your clearance details,’ it intoned.
Thales stared at the screen unable to think of what to do.
‘How much longer you gonna be there?’ demanded an annoyed voice.
Thales glanced behind him. A queue had formed while he’d been lost in his own thoughts. The bald-headed ‘esque behind him in line scowled.
‘P-pardon me,’ Thales stammered, and walked quickly over towards a juice bar.
As he pretended to consider which mixture of flavours he might like, he saw uniformed ‘esques enter and move with quick purpose across the plaza. They converged around the Directory and began to question those in the queue. The angry, bald ‘esque looked around, searching for Thales.
Thales walked quickly in the other direction. As he passed the narrow passage lined with cleaning equipment that he and the Baronessa had followed from the unloading facility, he stepped inside it, and crouched down behind a trolley.
He waited for shouts or the sound of running feet, but neither came.
‘Watcha doin’, luv?’
This voice belonged to a woman, squatting like him, chewing on an unlit cigarillo. Her lined face held a cagey expression. She wore a stained blue cleaner’s uniform with the station logo stamped into the shoulder.
‘Hiding,’ he said truthfully.
She plucked the cigarillo from her mouth and grinned. ‘Me too. Damn Station Sec makin’ double tha work for us. Stompin’ around, pokin’ about in things, turnin’ stuff inside out.’
‘It is difficult to go anywhere,’ Thales agreed, thinking of the congestion shown by the Directory.
‘Stinkin’ hard I’d call it. Ree-diculous. All fer some hob-nobs’ meetin’.’
Thales nodded, not knowing what else to say - but the wrinkled old woman didn’t need his encouragement.
‘S’all right for us Dowdies though,’ she continued.
‘Dowdies?’
‘Cleaners.’ She frowned. ‘Where you from that you ain’t heard of Dowdies?’
‘I just arrived. F-from a place called Scolar. It would seem to be a bad time to be sightseeing around Orion,’ he added lamely. His lie seemed so obvious.
She stuck the cigarillo back in her mouth and chewed a bit. Then she removed it again. ‘So what you doin’ back here wi’ me?’
Thales scrambled for a more plausible story. ‘My identification was stolen last night when I arrived. I don’t wish to be detained while Station Security authenticates my story. With things the way they are, it could take altogether too long to be verified.’
The woman nodded. ‘Big words yer using, but I get the idee of it. Things not so good around here wivout yer ID right now. Likely they’ll slam yer in the containers orright.’
Thales gave a completely involuntary shiver. He didn’t have to fake his nervousness. ‘I-I have a ...colleague. She’s staying at the top end of the station. She’ll vouch for me but I need to speak with her first.’
The old woman nodded sympathetically and waggled her finger in