Captain Vorpatril's Alliance (34 page)

“That was the yes,” said Rish. Her voice was growing quieter.

The Baronne nodded. “Topaz…did not get off the Station when we did. As far as we presently know, she remains hostage.”

“Eric—?” said Tej. Her voice, too, had fallen low.

Shiv Arqua grew grim. “It’s hard to say. Prestene claims to have his body cryo-preserved. How revivable he may be, we do not know.”

Tej swallowed. So did Ivan. Almost worse than death, that boundless uncertainty. In his experience.

Arqua grimaced. “Fool boy—nothing he defended was worth his life, once you girls were away. He should have surrendered!”

“Perhaps he did,” murmured the Baronne, and her husband pressed his teeth together.

“Did you get out right after Star’s group, then?” asked Rish. Oddly wary, that question. Oddly hopeful.

The Baronne ran a hand through her short hair, almost dislodging the defiantly bright band across her forehead. “No. Not for some weeks. They shaved my head when they took me, among the other things they tried—for all the good it did them.” Her eyes flashed in some dark triumph. “It will grow back. We will grow
everything
back, now we’ve rescued the pair of you.”

“Uh, we sort of rescued ourselves…” Tej pointed out tentatively. When no one responded to this, she turned and added, “But Grandmama, what happened to
your
hair, then?”
A muscle jumped in Lady ghem Estif’s fine jaw. “I sold it. Back on Earth.”

“All three meters of it,” confirmed Star. “At auction. It went for a fabulous sum, which we needed at that point. Far more money than I would have believed possible—there are collectors, it turns out. And absolute provenance, since we allowed the winner to cut it himself.”

Emerald, at her shoulder, muttered, “I still think he had a fetish.” Pearl nodded ruefully.

The Baronne, her own dark hair regrown barely finger-length beneath the red band, said nothing at all. The story under that silence…well, Ivan would doubtless get it later, too. No visible damage marred her skin, but it was not nearly so luminous as in the younger scans. Pallid, almost.
These people are really tired
.

“That was a pretty amazing sacrifice, for a haut woman,” Ivan offered, this seeming a less fraught topic. “I once met some of the ladies of the Star Crèche itself, on Eta Ceta, some years ago. Their never-cut hair was a major status-marker.”

Lady ghem Estif’s expression went rather opaque. “It is long,” she stated, “since I left the Star Crèche.” She hesitated, looking at Ivan more sharply. “Do the Consorts speak with Outlanders, now?”

“It was a special, um, event. What was your clan, that is, your haut constellation of origin, before you married the ghem general?”

“Rond.” Lady ghem Estif delivered the flat monosyllable without emotion. The Rond were one of the mid-grade Cetagandan Constellations, though that was like saying ‘one of the mid-grade billionaires.’ But she regarded Ivan with the faintest new spark of…less disapproval. As though he might be trainable, with the right program of exercises and rewards.

Byerly sucked on his lower lip, his expression baffled.

Officer Mahon and Pidge returned from the corner where they’d been talking in rapid under-voices. Mahon’s lips were screwed up in something less than joy, but better than hostility. Pidge looked unsettlingly serene.

Mahon blew out his breath. “This is what I can offer tonight, to get you people out of here and into some more comfortable location. If Captain Vorpatril, here, will speak for you as the Barrayaran subject to whom you are related, pledging his word and posting a bond, I can release you into his temporary custody as applicants for asylum. This allows you a two-week limited visa while waiting for judicial review. With an opportunity for extensions should the review take longer.”

Kicking the problem upstairs—much the best choice. Ivan would sympathize, except…

“Given the numerous irregularities, not to mention outright falsifications, in your travel documentation, for which you can, yes, plead mitigating circumstances”—a fending gesture at Pidge—“you should not count on your application being finally approved. But at least,” his voice dropped, as if talking to himself, possibly as the one sane person here, “I have forms to cover it all.”

Tej turned to Ivan, her bright eyes thrilled. “Oh, yes! I knew you could do it, Ivan Xav!”

Ivan tried to point out that he hadn’t done anything, yet, but the words stuck in his throat, especially when Tej spared a hug for him.
This is not my fault. Right? Right?
He glanced at By, who blinked back
palpably
unhelpfully.

“Bond,” Ivan said to Mahon. “Is that, like, a pledge of credit, or do you need cash down?”

“Cash, I’m afraid, Captain. Times nine, although I may be able to arrange a group discount. And a spoken oath, given your rank.”

“Ah.” How
many
forms? Multiplied by nine? No, he wasn’t going to make it to Ops on time today, was he. Ivan drew a deep inhalation. “In that case, Officer Mahon, I need to make some calls.”

Mahon was efficient; documentation hell only ran an hour and a half past the end of his shift. Either conscientious or curious, he stayed to see things through. Ivan read aloud off Mahon’s cheat sheet a number of promises to take responsibility for a number of things over which, as far as he could see, he had no control whatsoever, making it official; the Arquas watched this Barrayaran step with the inquisitiveness of metropolitans come down to take in a backcountry show at a District fair.

This dumped Ivan, Tej, the nine new Arquas, and their small mountain of luggage into a rented ground-van headed for downtown Vorbarr Sultana at the peak of morning traffic. By and Rish, who’d come out to the shuttleport by the new bubble tube—in service this week for a change, however temporarily—drove Ivan’s two-seater on ahead. Ivan wondered what they were saying to each other.

*
 
*
 
*

Conversation in the van had drifted off to a sleep-deprived muttering by the time they arrived at the hotel, just down the block from Ivan Xav’s flat. It seemed a middling sort of place, built in a functional mode during the reign of Emperor Ezar with patchy upgrades since, but the location could scarcely be bettered. Ivan Xav saw them all registered, which seemed to involve displays of both his credit and military IDs, then drew Tej aside.

“Now I really have to run to Ops. Don’t let them do anything awful till I get back, right? In fact, don’t let them do anything.”

“I think everyone wants to sleep, first.”

“That’d be all right. Yeah, do that.” He kissed her and fled.

Surprisingly, Rish managed to scrape By off at the lobby lift tubes; he bade her a fond farewell. Exiting at the seventh-floor lift-tube foyer, Rish paused and picked what seemed to be a piece of metallic lint from under her collar, murmured, “Nice try, By. Love and kisses,” and made smacking noises into it, and deposited it in the waste chute. At Tej’s sideways look, she merely shrugged.

Ivan Xav had somehow managed to secure rooms all in a row for them. A two-bedroom suite for the seniors with a central lounge connected on either side to bedrooms that absorbed Amiri and Jet, and Star, Pidge, Pearl and Emerald, plus their luggage. They all returned as swiftly as they could to the sitting room, where Tej and Rish were recounting, once more, the tale of their long flight, and took up perches to listen. And, inevitably, to critique.

When Tej came to the part about Ivan Xav’s clever marital rescue on Komarr, she glanced at Amiri and Jet and left out the bit about the balcony, saying only, “We weren’t thinking too straight by then, I guess. We were both so tired.”

“You weren’t thinking at all, as far as I can see,” said Pidge tartly. “Good grief, Tej, you’re as scatterbrained as ever.”

Pearl turned to Rish. “And you
let
her?”

“It worked out,” said Rish defensively.

Dada held up a thick hand to stem an incipient and well-worn digression into personalities, if adding mildly, “Though really, Tej-love, we could have negotiated you a favorable deal for a House heir anytime these past five years. All those wasted opportunities, just to end up with a Barrayaran?”

This was tolerable only because he had accepted Tej’s every
No
—well,
No, thank you, Dada
—on said deals for five years straight with no more demur than an occasional wince and grunt. At least Dada wouldn’t complain that Ivan Xav was a natural, being one himself. Nor could the Baronne, without blatant hypocrisy. Not that she couldn’t find other grounds.

“This Vorpatril fellow turns out to be quite interesting, for a Barrayaran, I will allow that,” said the Baronne. “If I thought it was guile and not blind luck, I would be quite proud of you both. Or—did you know of his high-level connections before negotiating this strange oral contract?”

“For
free
, no less,” said Star in an aggrieved undervoice. “
Tej
.”

“No,” sighed Tej. “We only found out after.”

“Figures,” murmured Pearl.

“Did you look him up?” Tej asked the Baronne. “Back on Escobar?”

“Of course. As soon as Lily passed us that—at the time, it seemed a very garbled rumor, but actually it seems correct in more details than I would have believed. Not that we weren’t overjoyed to have finally located you two. But how closely does that boy actually stand the to Barrayaran Imperial throne?”

Oh, blast, the Baronne had already stumbled onto that angle. Well, of course she had. She was the
Baronne
. “Camp stool,” Tej corrected in a small voice. “When The Gregor has to sit in ceremony. On account of Vor being a military caste.” The Baronne waved away this distinction. Tej…remembered a plaque in a street that groundcars ran over.

Rish put in, “There are quite a few more bodies between him and that position than when he was younger, apparently—plus he’d have to win a couple of civil wars with rival claimants, to hear him tell it. He was never the only potential heir.”

Grandmama lifted a quelling finger. “I would advise against pursuing that direction, Udine, dear. There are many safer approaches you might work in aid of our aims here, and I promise you, you do not want to get bogged down in extended altercations with the locals.” She gave the impression of a delicate shudder without, actually, shuddering.

Tej cast her a grateful glance. Dada grunted, not disagreeing.

“Still, he’s in their military,” said Star. “He can’t be totally clueless, in a crunch. Maybe we could use him in our Security. Our new Security, when we set it up.”

“Or in Administration,” said Pidge. “You say he’s a kind of secretary?”

“Or in Hospitality,” said Jet, with an amused snicker. “How well does he strip?”

Tej glowered at him.

The Baronne waved this aside, pursing her lips. “But apparently, he’s been kept close confined here in the capital under the eyes of his handlers for nearly the whole of that career. Chained to a desk, which is, I suppose, kinder than chained in a cage. Keeps him out of trouble just the same, to be sure.”

“He really works,” said Tej, not very loudly. “Admiral Desplains—that’s his Ops boss—values him.” What Desplains had actually told her was,
Despite Ivan’s erratic personal life, he’s never once made an error in identifying hidden political stakes.
Rare talent, that.
Or had that been
political snakes
? Confusing.

“So I should think,” said the Baronne. “This military chief must gain considerable cachet for harboring such a princeling on his staff. Almost a Jewel. I wonder what
his
deal was, behind the scenes, in return for taking on such a charge?”

“He likes Ivan’s work,” said Tej, though completeness forced her to add, “mostly.”

The Baronne sat back and tapped her fingers on the sofa arm. She said unhopefully, “I don’t suppose you’ve had any ideas how best to exploit him, have you, Tej? Having had—or is that enjoyed?—the closest observation.”

Really, Baronne, do you have to point that out?
Tej twitched uncomfortably. “The Greg—the Barrayarans were going to give us a ride in secret to Escobar. On a government courier ship. It would have given a clean break for Rish and me to lose the bounty hunters. I thought that was enough.”

Star sniffed. “There are much more direct ways to dispose of bounty hunters, Tej.”

Star had been the understudy of the House Cordonah security chief—a department which had failed signally to stave off the present debacle, Tej was reminded. With a pang of frustration, Tej restrained herself from escalating the critique. The most important part of the takeover had been in behind-the-scenes deals on financial and diplomatic levels anyway—yeah, Pidge’s department, wasn’t that? Star just liked lots of big guns.

“So what did
you
do about Prestene’s hired meat? They must have followed you four, as well,” said Tej to Star.

Star lifted her chin, proudly. “They met with fatal accidents, of course.”

Dada, with a practiced finger-flicking gesture, suppressed this side-trail as well. “Tej’s turn to tell her tale.”

Em said, “Still, such a ride—depending on what they wanted you to trade for it—would have saved this expensive side jaunt to collect you two. Too bad you couldn’t have brought it off two weeks back.”

“Well, there was the divorce thing we were waiting for.”

“The what?” said Dada.

With a reluctant sigh, Tej plunged into an account of her and Ivan Xav’s trip to New Evias, and Count Falco’s strange, archaic court with its unexpected non-result.

Dada rubbed his lips thoughtfully as she wound down, his dark eyes crinkling. “I expect we may simply ignore this local wrinkle when we leave. Alternatively, should you wish to become a widow, you have only to ask. It wouldn’t be a first. I’m sure something could be arranged.”

“No!” said Tej indignantly, hoping he was joking. She was almost sure he was joking. Despite being a Barrayaran, Ivan Xav wasn’t
disposable
.

“Don’t be so hotheaded, love,” said the Baronne to her mate with a fond smile. “We shouldn’t waste our opportunities before we’ve thoroughly explored them, after all.” The double meaning of
waste
might have been intended, because the corner of Dada’s mouth twitched up, as it always did when his half-haut queen indulged in Jacksonian gutter slang. The Baronne never could make it come out quite right. Dada could, authentically, when he got on a roll about his old times. But Tej wasn’t sure she liked this swing of the Ivan Xav pendulum any better.