When he stepped off the canal-runner outside the tube-train station in Daelmar, Maertyn scarcely glanced back at the vehicle that was little more than a steamer powered by a solar flash boiler and a biofuel boost, with a single long car attached to the antique engine. The front half of that car served for freight and the rear for passengers, both freight and passengers almost entirely destined from or to the various Reserve posts along the canal. How much longer the Unity could afford to maintain those posts was open to question.
Maertyn carried but a shoulder bag, since he had a full wardrobe at the town house in Caelaarn, in fact a far greater wardrobe there than at the station. He hitched the strap higher as he crossed the street and walked toward Haarlan?s Victualary, the third narrow front to the east opposite the tube-station arch. The first front he passed was the Outfittery-closed, as it usually was. Maertyn wondered how long the owner would even keep up the pretense of the business.
The girl sitting before the screen and behind the counter at Harlaan?s looked up as Maertyn entered.
He recognized her as Harlaan?s niece, although she was a white-blonde, so unlike her grizzled uncle. "Eylana…I?d like to order a side of lamb and a half score of fowl to be sent to the canal weather station on twoday, along with an assortment of whatever greenery and vegetables are the freshest."
"Yes, Lord Maertyn." While it was clear from her initial glance that Eylana hadn?t immediately recognized him, she was bright enough to deduce his identity from the order and destination, as well as his maroon and silver-gray travelsuit. "Would you like anything else?"
Maertyn considered, then nodded politely. "The same order two weeks from next twoday."
"For the two, sir, it will be one hundred thirty-seven, including the delivery charge."
"That will be satisfactory. Thank you." Maertyn pressed his personal credpass against the old-style recorder. A faint chime sounded.
"Thank you, sir. We do appreciate your patronage."
"You?re more than welcome." He smiled politely, but warmly, before turning and leaving the victualary.
The street was nearly empty, as always, except for a steamcart headed eastward in the direction of the methane extraction works, and the associated power-generation facility. He strode across the broad expanse of composite, once necessary to handle a long-vanished rush of vehicles, to the wide sidewalk on the south side and then through the entry archway and down the ramp toward the single platform under the station, carpeted in what amounted to a form of hard-surfaced, and slow-growing, self-repairing, deep gray lichen. From the top of the ramp he could see that the left-hand side of the platform was vacant, while the three linked shimmering sleek gray cylindrical cars on the right awaited passengers.
For all that he knew Maarlyna was far safer at the canal station with Shaenya and Svorak, and the nearby Reserve guards, than in the capital, he still worried about leaving her for so long-and the fact that once he was in Caelaarn, even more unforeseen circumstances were likely to arise and delay his return. Yet he couldn?t have ignored the summons of Minister Hlaansk, pretext as it mostly likely was, not when he needed the additional equipment to have even a chance of discovering anything meaningful about the canal.
Just short of the entry kiosk and the gates that blocked unpaid entry to the trains, on the side of the platform awaiting the late-afternoon inbound train, Maertyn saw a figure in a scarlet singlesuit. He couldn?t recall when he?d seen brilliant scarlet as the sole color of apparel. The wearer looked to be a woman with short-cropped hair, either silver or white-blond, and an angular face that still appeared close to androgynous. Was she an ice-sport who?d crossed the canal to tempt some unfortunate from the dwindling population of Daelmar?
He shook his head. Despite the lore, the Unity had proven long ago that there were no ice-sports, rumors and reports to the contrary. Yet the unfounded rumors persisted.
Still…his eyes lingered on her slim figure, with only the hint of curves, just enough to suggest femininity.
In her hands was a metallic rectangle that caught light from some source he could not see…or generated its own. Her head lifted from the metallic gleam, and her eyes focused on him. For the briefest moment, her eyes seemed to linger on him before she turned and retreated back into the shadows to the north of the ramp and kiosk.
What was that about? It was almost as though he were the ice-sport…or the oddity, rather than the lord of a distinguished, if financially diminished, line.
Maertyn hurried to the kiosk and swiped his credpass through the beam beside the gate.
"Car two, third compartment," the kiosk announced as the deep green gate-bars recessed.
He quickly stepped through, but he couldn?t help looking back to make certain that the gate had closed behind him. There was no sign of the woman-or ice-sport-in red.
Walking deliberately, he made his way along the empty platform toward the second car.
"The train will be leaving in fifteen minutes, sir," came the words from overhead as he stepped from the platform through the open portal into the car, a conveyance whose interior walls were brushed pewter with silvered fixtures and a piled carpet of sea green. The faintest scent of evergreen infused the air.
He moved forward until he reached his compartment and slid the recessed pewter-finished door open. The high-backed couch, upholstered in a green two shades darker than the carpet, could have seated two comfortably and three less so. The small corner desk held a built in wall screen capable of interfacing with any dataport. There was a faux-window, displaying a view of the Reserve as seen from the west side of Daelmar. The view would shift once the train got under way, showing what passengers would have seen had they been conveyed on the surface.
Maertyn set his shoulder bag on the end of the couch farthest from the compartment door, then sat down. He wouldn?t have been surprised if he had the only occupied private compartment on the train-at least until Brathym, the first stop of five on the way to the capital. There would be a handful of Reserve workers or officers in the seats of the first compartment, although most of them would depart at Brathym, where most of them had dwellings.
He turned back to the compartment door, then slid it shut. After a moment, he pressed the lock bar. He glanced to the corner desk. That could wait, although he did need to go over his presentation to the internal ministry council. Instead, he sat down in the middle of the couch, trying not to think about Maarlyna as he waited for the train to depart.