Once through the dining area there were more corridors. After passing an open area where several tracks converged, with more of the ever-present guards watching over the platforms their the tram entered a different corridor. Through small windows in its side the planet below could occasionally be glimpsed, and just visible was the wall of another section of the station.
The tram had not travelled far in this section before coming to rest at a stop almost identical to the one where they had boarded it. "Easy to become lost in here," noted Jalsa.
The woman nodded. "Helps to keep prisoners where they are supposed to be." She led them off the tram and into yet another corridor. This one contained more doors, was wider and featured a few notice boards on the walls. Still more guards stood outside one of the doors.
Their escort pressed her card against against the door lock. It slid open. "Here you are." From a pocket she took two small devices bearing only a single white button, and passed one to each of them. "We've had the monitoring turned off as requested, but if you have any trouble pressing the button will turn it back on and call in the guards."
The interview room was more comfortable than the rest of the prison they had seen, it was carpeted. Two padded chairs sat at one side of a table. On the other, on a bare metal seat, sat Natalia Marchero. She was in her late thirties, dressed in the same prison overalls they had seen in the dining area. Black shoulder-length hair surrounded a harsh face that stared at the wall, paying no attention to the two men who had just entered the room and sat down opposite her.
"Hello," Jalsa tried.
No response. No sign that she had heard them.
Williams ventured "You'll have something to say soon."
Once again, nothing.
"Or you'll probably wind up dead," he added.
This time there was a slight shrug and a twitch of the mouth that might have been a sarcastic smirk.
"Not from us," Jalsa pointed out.
"We've an odd situation here, you see," Williams mused. "Normally, cooperation might result in you being given greater privileges, transferal to a lower security facility, that type of thing."
"In this case failure to help will result in that move," Jalsa told her.
This seemed to be taken more seriously. Marchero spoke for the first time. "So you say."
"Believe me, we have the authority to do that," said Jalsa. "Do you think we would be here if we didn't?"
"Perhaps."
"You going to talk, then?"
"About what?"
"Jersisallam."
"I conspired with pirates to steal from him. You should already know that."
"Come on, you know we don't care about that. We're more interested in why you are here, watched around the clock."
"I suppose he holds grudges."
"To the extent of trying to have you killed twice? It's not as if he even lost much that time."
"Some people aren't very forgiving."
"Or don't like people on the loose who know things someone doesn't want known," Williams pointed out. "You were on one of his ships. It sometimes made diversions to somewhere when travelling from Esdi. Where?"
"Yeah, right," Marchero snorted. "You saying that because it was late? That ship was a badly-maintained flying bucket. The cargo loaders on Esdi are are clumsy and lazy, and often damaged things in the process. The damage claims against them are probably on file somewhere. Damaged ship equals late ship. OK?"
"Not really. Low security still beckons," Williams said.
"Oh, fine, I'm a witchhunt victim. Drowned to prove I'm innocent, just because your guesswork falls short of reality. Enough!" She stood up and threw her chair back.
"Sit down!" Jalsa barked at her.
"Why? I've lost all incentive to do a thing you say. You're going to get me killed anyway."
Jalsa held up his hand as if signalling Marchero to wait. "You've only heard one side of our offer so far," he said in a carefully controlled voice, not very successfully concealing impatience and anger. "The other side is out of prison altogether. With a changed identity. In any part of the galaxy you care to name."
Marchero did not sit back down, but went and stood leaning against the corner of the room. "You're still assuming that I know whatever it is you're after."
"True. But I think it's quite safe to assume that the ship was late for a better reason than carelessness on behalf of some drunken Groigans or unreliable robots. Unless Jersisallam was the type to become really upset with late ships."
She stood straight now, and although she didn't say anything her expression was clear.
"Everyone who had worked on any of these suspiciously late craft is dead. Apart from you. Stretching coincidence just a little, isn't it?" Williams informed her.
Marchero half staggered back to the table. She pulled the chair back up and sat down, her head bowed and almost resting on her hands. "Not coincidence, no," she almost whispered.
"So why, then?" asked Jalsa.
Marchero looked up. "For a reason that I won't tell to you."