Captain Vorpatril's Alliance (35 page)

Star frowned in doubt. “If your Barrayaran husband wanted to get rid of you, why didn’t he just let the bounty hunters carry you off? Problem solved, from his point of view.”

“Barrayar’s a more complicated place than I thought,” said Tej, in a possibly-fruitless effort at warning. Was anyone listening to her?

An unexpected murmur of support from, of all people, Grandmama: “Indeed, we should not go rushing in.”

“I want some sleep first, before rushing anywhere,” said Dada, a yawn cracking his face. “What a dismal shuttleport. Bed next for everyone, I think. Nobody’s thinking straight.”

“Should I go out and try to scrounge an arsenal, first?” said Star. “We’re horribly disarmed, here.”

“You have to admit,” said Pidge, “Dada was right about not trying to carry ours along. It would never have survived that second search.”

“Would’ve passed the first one, though,” grumbled Star. “Before Amiri insisted on bringing up that Vorpatril fellow’s name.”

“No, don’t you dare!” said Tej, fairly sure that Star out cruising back alleys trying to deal for illegal weaponry fell under the heading of
something awful.
Especially while this short of sleep. And clues, for that matter.

Rish came to Tej’s aid: “As far as any unwanted visitors from Prestene go, I think that Barrayaran Imperial Security has us covered for now. I know they’re watching out for them. And with more resources than we can command here, right now.”

Dada nodded understanding and agreement. “My take as well.
Bed
, chicks and chicklets.” He stood and stretched, cracking joints. Grumbling, the Arquas trailed off to their respective roosts.

Dada and the Baronne hugged Tej and Rish a temporary goodbye as they left for Ivan Xav’s flat. Their grips lingered, as if reassuring themselves by the most fundamental sensory means of the girls’ well-being, and, well, being. “Yes, call us at Ivan Xav’s number when you’re ready to go down to dinner,” said Tej.

Pidge followed them into the hotel corridor.

“We could be halfway through the Hegen Hub by now, if you two had stuck to your original plan,” she complained. “This detour is costing us critical resources, you know. Time as much as money. I don’t know why they didn’t just send Amiri to collect you.”

“None of this is anything like the original plan.” Tej scowled. “Fortunately, if you want to be honest. If you do. Just for a change, you know.”

With a short gesture, Pidge batted this shot away. “We’re going back to retake the House.
Everyone
is pitching in—even Amiri. Everyone’s expected to help. Even you.”

Tej ran an aggravated hand through her hair, which snagged and pulled unhelpfully. “Doing what?”

“Dada and the Baronne for overall strategy, of course. Star’s taking Security, I’m taking Negotiations, and the Jewels are doing everything they can. Which is quite a lot. You, well—the
least
you could do is cooperate in making yourself available for a genetic alliance. A bargaining chip—I’ll bet the Baronne can slot you in somewhere.”

“Dada said I didn’t have to! And the Baronne didn’t argue with him!”

“That was then, this is now. We don’t have the margin for personal indulgences anymore. None of us do.”

“Dada wouldn’t ask me this.”

“Dada shouldn’t
have
to ask you this! Isn’t it about time you stopped being such a maddening deadweight in the House? You
had
your choice of choices, you didn’t take any of them, you’ve lost your say, I’d say.”

“I don’t see
you
offering up your body as a personal pledge in some side deal!”

“Who says.” Pidge’s voice was grim.

“…Oh.”

“So.”

“So, um…call us when you wake up, anyway.”

“Right.” Pidge flung herself back into the suite.

Tej and Rish continued toward the lift tubes. Rish watched her sideways, but for once, offered no comment. Tej loved her family, she really did. She didn’t doubt for an instant that they loved her, too, in their way. But she wondered how she’d plunged from soaring elation to glum depression in so few hours.

Chapter Fifteen

Ivan, only slightly out of breath but considerably out of sleep, entered Admiral Desplain’s outer office to find one of the senior Ops clerks manning his desk. The morning’s first pot of coffee had been made and drunk long ago, he noted from the dark dregs in the bottom of the pot on the credenza and the faint tarry aroma in the air. He checked a desire to scrape out the bottom of the pot with a spoon and eat the residue.

“Ah, Captain Vorpatril,” said the clerk, brightening. “The old man wanted to know as soon as you arrived.” He keyed his intercom. “Sir, Captain Vorpatril is here.”

“Finally,” returned Desplains’s voice. Ivan tried to read the tone, but from three syllables could only ascertain
not joyful
. “Send him in.”

Ivan trod into his boss’s inner sanctum, to find the admiral had a visitor—an ImpSec captain, Ivan saw by his collar pins and tabs, as the man twisted in his chair to observe him in turn, frowning. Lean but HQ-pale, salt-and-pepper hair that tried but failed to make him look older than the mid-grade middle-aged man he apparently was.
Raudsepp
, read his nametag. They exchanged the briefest of military courtesies.

Desplains was looking faintly harassed. And, given that the harassment was apparently being delivered by a mere ImpSec captain—bringing the snakes in person?—decidedly irritated. The admiral did not invite Ivan to sit, so Ivan took up a prudent sort-of parade rest and waited. Someone would tell him what was going on shortly; they always did, however little he wanted to know.

Desplains went on, dry-voiced, “Captain Raudsepp has just inquired if, at the time I signed off on your marriage on Komarr, I had known what a curious set of relations young Lady Vorpatril was apparently trailing after her.”

“At the time of our marriage on Komarr, everyone thought Tej was an orphan,” said Ivan, “including Tej. And Rish. They seemed pretty happy to find out this was not the case, last night. And your interest in this is what, Captain Raudsepp?”

“Until last night, I was the Galactic Affairs officer charged with riding herd on your new wife’s alleged bounty-hunter threat. A relatively routine physical security issue that has so far failed to provide much in the way of action, to everyone’s relief. I came in this morning to find my mandate had been unexpectedly upped by a renegade refugee Jacksonian baron and most of his extended family, about which the critical complaint is the
unexpectedly
part.”

Ah, yes. ImpSec did not like surprises. Too bad; surprises were their
job
, in Ivan’s view. He wondered if he ought to argue with the
renegade
tag; how could you tell a renegade Jacksonian baron from any other sort? Refugee, though, yeah, sure. He did put in, “Immediate family, actually. In a sense.”

Raudsepp’s brows tightened. “My heated memo to Galactic Affairs-Komarr crossed in the tightbeam stream with an urgent heads-up from Captain Morozov, warning us of the party’s impending arrival, so it’s good to know that they weren’t entirely asleep out there. If the alert had arrived six hours ahead of the event instead of six hours behind it, it might have helped. Somewhat. And so my routine physical security issue has turned into a completely unassessed political security issue. As I expect my assessment to be requested
very soon
, it behooves me to make one.”

Ivan tilted his head in acknowledgement of the justice of this, but resisted being drawn into premature sympathy with a brother officer. After all, ImpSec.

Raudsepp narrowed his eyes at Ivan. “Why did you sign them out of Customs & Security?”

“Well, they looked tired,” Ivan offered. “Hours and hours of bureaucrats. On top of jump-lag, you know. The Komarr run is a bitch if you’re jump-sensitive.”

“Have you managed to find out yet why they’re here?”

“They came to pick up Tej and Rish.”
Wait, what?
Take them
away
? For the first time, this thought came clear in Ivan’s sleep-deprived mind, triggering an unpleasant flutter of panic in his stomach. Though he supposed he could part with Rish without much of a pang. But what if Tej wanted to go
with
her? “Check on them, anyway,” he corrected hastily.
Dear God. We need to talk.
“Parents, after all.”

“Do you have any other observations to report? Anything of danger—or interest—to the Imperium?”

“All they’ve done is land and go to bed.” Ivan stifled a yawn. “Well, and fill out a lot of forms. You have to have received copies of everything from Customs, and a report from your outer-perimeter night fellow—what the devil was his name—Zumboti, that was it. Which means you know about as much as I do, so far.”

“Surely not. You have by far the closest view of the affair, going back the farthest.”

I’m not the only one
, Ivan wanted to snap back. In fact, he didn’t even go back the farthest.
Talk to your own damn people.
What, had By gone off to bed without filing a report, the rat? “In my, what, nine hours of observation, all I’ve seen is some very jump-lagged people glad to find their daughters alive”—that, without doubt, had not been some show for his benefit—“and grateful to be taken to a hotel.”
Hang on…
By was Domestic Affairs; Raudsepp had named himself Galactic Affairs. Was this another fricking ImpSec right hand not talking to the left screwup, again? Ivan was so used to Byerly by now, he perhaps forgot just how high and restricted a level By worked on, however erratically. Should he direct Raudsepp to Byerly, or not? Maybe it ought to be the other way around.
Isn’t trying to cover for By how I got into all this trouble in the first place…?

But Captain Raudsepp was going on. “Looking ahead, then.” He rummaged in his uniform jacket and withdrew a card, which he glanced at and handed to Ivan. “This is my secured comconsole code, by which you may contact me directly at any time. Should you find anything suspicious to report, anything at all, please call me at once.”

Ivan didn’t reach for it. “Uh, you’re asking me to spy on my wife’s family for you?” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a slight wince cross Desplains’s usually impassive features, although in reaction to just what aspect of this he couldn’t guess.

“You
did
take formal responsibility for them, Captain Vorpatril.”

As a Vor lord. Not as a military officer. Different chain of command.
Oh, crap, that sounded just like one of Miles’s arguments, didn’t it. Ivan
knew
he was on thin ice if he’d started channeling his cousin. Gingerly, he took the card, glanced at it—code only, no other identifying information, right, one of
those
—and tucked it away in his wallet.

“Although…” Raudsepp hesitated, looking around the admiral’s tidy but resource-crammed office—one whole wall was taken up with Desplains’s professional library, including a few rare volumes going back to the Time of Isolation. “It does occur to me, nearly everything to do with Ops passes through your comconsole, Captain Vorpatril, one way or another. Until this entire situation is clarified, it might be more prudent for you to take some personal leave. Unexceptionable enough, for a family emergency, certainly.”

Ivan’s jaw tightened. So, he noticed, did Desplains’s. “If my loyalty is suddenly that suspect,” he ground out, “that should certainly not be my decision to make, eh?”

Raudsepp’s brow wrinkled. “True enough.” He looked to Desplains.

Desplains looked back and said blandly, “My aide and I will discuss it. Thank you for your concern, Captain Raudsepp, and for your information and your time on this busy morning.”

It was a clear dismissal. Raudsepp must have run out of questions for now, or else he’d decided Ivan really had run out of answers, because he allowed himself to be shifted. The Ops clerk saw him out.

This left Ivan still standing. Studying him, Desplains rubbed his jaw and grimaced. “So, have you become a security risk, Vorpatril?”

“I don’t know, sir,” said Ivan, as honestly as possible. “Nobody tells me anything.”

Desplains snorted. “Well, then, go back to work, at least for the moment.” He waved Ivan out, but then added, “Oh. And call your mother.”

Ivan paused on the threshold. “I suppose I should, at that.” Actually, he’d totally forgotten that little task, in the rush of events.

“I should perhaps say, call your mother
back
.” The voice could have dehumidified the room; Desplains was giving him That Look.

“Ah. Yes, sir. Right away, sir.” Ivan retreated to the outer office.

He evicted the clerk from his desk, who was glad enough to get back to his own interrupted tasks, settled himself, and tapped in a familiar code. Lady Alys’s face formed over his vidplate all too promptly, which suggested she must have been lying in wait for this.

“Ah, Ivan. Finally,” she said, unconsciously echoing Desplains.

Dammit, he’d been
busy
. Ivan nodded warily. “Mamere. It’s been quite a night. I guess you’ve heard? Something?”

“Actually, our first word was a copy of Captain Morozov’s memo from Komarr, which he had strongly requested ImpSec Vorbarr Sultana forward to Simon. Happily, General Allegre can recognize need-to-know when he sees it. It came in while we were having breakfast. We had a first-hand update a bit later. Not from you, I must point out.”

From who, then?
Ivan wanted to ask, then realized it would be a redundant question. And Byerly had probably also acquired breakfast
and
bed by now, of both of which Ivan was deprived, and looked to stay that way. “I kind of had my hands full,” Ivan excused himself. “Everyone’s settled now, though. Temporarily.”

“Good. How is Tej taking it? And Rish?”

“Overjoyed. Well, imagine how would you feel, to get your family back from the dead, all unexpected?”

“I don’t actually have to imagine it, Ivan,” she said, giving him a peculiar exasperated-fond look. “And nor do you, come to think.”

Ivan shrugged, embarrassed. “I suppose not. Anyway, there seemed to be a lot of family feeling.” Of several different kinds, in retrospect. An only child all his life, and his closest cousin the same, Ivan had occasionally wondered what it would be like to have a big family. Mamere’s attention would have been more divided, for one thing…