Murder on the Orion Express

The Comet

"Fabulous, isn't it?" Miss Andrea White spoke in a soft voice, full of wonder and longing. Through the window, a sparkling comet, its tail glittering with the light of a hundred stars, made for an astonishing sight. Just another reason why people paid such exorbitant prices to ride on the Orion Express. Miss White was a young women, pale and delicate, with long, slender, almost fragile limbs. Her beauty was unquestionable. Her companion could not be described in such terms, at least not amongst those of a human persuasion. Grey, as she was simply known, was a gaseous creature, held together on the human-friendly gravity of the Express, in a small glass jar. A blue-uniformed attendant stood impassively holding the jar facing out the same window.

"Fabulous, truly fabulous," Grey answered through a small communicator attached to her jar.

"So, your idea of beauty is similar to our own?"

"Indeed. Although perhaps what I feel would be more accurately described as wonder. Wonder at the magnificent nature of our universe, rather than a feeling of appreciation for the aesthetic beauty of the comet."

"Oh," answered Miss White, slightly disappointed.

"Don't get me wrong, my dear. Our species has a very well developed sense of beauty. And also of what you would call, ugliness."

"Ladies!" Reginald Weezle walked languidly into the viewing room. "Apologies, Grey, if that term isn't entirely accurate." Weezle was a human, although after centuries away from Earth, his ancestors had evolved skin with a distinct green hue – an adaptation to life on the planet Chi. Well-dressed and handsome, Weezle carried with him an air of easy confidence.

"Accurate enough, Mr Weezle. How are you today?"

"Tremendous, tremendous. I had a most wonderful sleep last night. Isn't the Express just perfect? Worth every penny. I believe, I am finally beginning to feel myself again."

"I'm glad to hear it. If I may pry, judging by the colour of your skin, were you perhaps involved in the recent war? From what I heard, it was a particularly nasty business on both sides."

"Indeed I was and I saw some horrific things, but that's all behind me now. Time to forget and move on. I plan on focussing on the good things in life from here on, starting with this trip on the famous Express. Did you hear that detective Beckett is on board? I'll bet he has some tales to tell." Weezle smiled harder.

Andrea White gave a little yawn. "I'm so sorry, I'm feeling a little tired. I think I shall retire for a short rest before luncheon."

"Of course, Miss White. I look forward to seeing you later," said Grey politely.

Weezle held out his arm protectively. "I hope talk of the war hasn't disturbed you, my dear. Please allow me to accompany you back to your cabin." White linked arms with him appreciatively.

"Thank you, Mr Weezle, that would be delightful."