Captain Vorpatril's Alliance (40 page)

“Yeah, so?”

“So…”

“Look, Dada’s not
stupid
.”

“Neither is Simon.” Ivan Xav’s face managed peeved, not his best expression. “They’re up to something, aren’t they. You—the Arquas.”

“They came to Barrayar to get Rish and me.”

“Yes, and that’s something else we need to talk about—I mean, that’s the conversation I’ve been rehearsing all bloody
day
, before all this came—Tej,
what do you know
?”

She scowled up at him, looming on her left. Ivan Xav wasn’t stupid, either, of course. “Then are you in or out?” And was it even worth probing? He was Barrayaran to the bone, seven-eighths, anyway. He’d be bound to want to grab everything for his empire, his own gang—that was what the uniform he wore every day
meant
.

“Of
what
? I can’t say till I know what I’m in or out
of
. Though it’s got to be trouble, or you’d just be telling me. There’s some kind of Jacksonian deal going on under the table. Yeah?”

“I can’t tell you unless you’re in. Or you decide you’re out, and then I really can’t tell you.”

“Married people,” said Ivan Xav austerely after a moment, “shouldn’t keep secrets from each other.”

Tej rolled up on her elbow, annoyed. For once, this move failed to distract him. “What, you keep secrets from
me
all the time. All that classified stuff at your work.”

“That’s different. That’s…it’s assumed, no, it’s not just assumed, they make it quite explicit that fellows don’t babble about Ops business at home. Or anywhere else. It’s not like I keep those secrets from you
preferentially
.”

“It would probably be really boring anyway.”

“Most of it,” admitted Ivan Xav, almost diverted.

“Except maybe that stuff you mumble about in your sleep.”

Ivan Xav stiffened, and not in the good way. He was, in fact, quite limp in that region at the moment. “I talk in my sleep? About classified…?”

“It’s kind of hard to tell.” Tej composed her mouth into Ivan Xav’s accent and cadences, and recited, “‘Don’t eat that avocado, Admiral, it’s gone blue. The blue ones have shifty eyes.’”

“Don’t remember
that
dream,” Ivan Xav muttered, looking vaguely horrified. “Fortunately…”

“I actually guessed it was a dream. Unless Barrayar’s running some sort of military bioengineering experiments, I suppose.”

“Not as far as I know. Not like that, anyway. The avocado didn’t…
meow
, did it?”

Tej stared. “I don’t know. You only said it looked shifty.”

Ivan Xav appeared inexplicably relieved. But then, alas, went on: “If it’s something benign, there’s no reason to keep it a secret.”

“Sure there is.”

“Like what?”

“Like, oh, to keep other people from stealing…whatever.”

“It’s a thing, then.”

It was a bit hopeless to tell herself
Wake up!
when her head was so filled with fatigue-fog. Tej tried anyway. “Not necessarily. People steal ideas.”

“So it’s a thing, and…and Shiv and your family think it’s something that can somehow help their cause, I suppose. That would make sense. Well, really, By is right; it’s the only thing that would make sense. Something that would help them, something they need to take back their House. So, more power to them—but not
here
. What can they be up to
here
?”

“I am not playing fast-penta interrogation with you at this time of night. Or at any other time.”

“That’s…actually a party game. Fast-penta Or Dare. People take turns asking questions, and you have to either tell the truth, or take the dare. Not with real fast-penta, of course. Unless it’s a pretty dodgy party. By would know…”

“Barrayarans are
strange
.”

“Yes,” Ivan Xav agreed with a pensive sigh, then seemed to belatedly decide this might be considered a slur on his homeworld and revised it hastily, “No! Not as strange as Jacksonians, anyway. Or Cetagandans.” He added something under his breath that might have been,
Frigging mutant space aliens
, but swallowed it before Tej could be sure. She did not ask him to repeat it more loudly.

“It’s not just the House,” Tej tried, after a minute of silence stretched unpleasantly. “Prestene has Eric and Topaz. Held hostage or…or worse.”

“So…” Ivan Xav’s voice went uncomfortably uncertain. “Eric may well not be revivable. And Topaz is…just a Jewel, right? No genetic relation to Shiv. You said.”

Tej frowned. “Dada never made any distinction amongst us kids. Or else when he was yelling at us, he wouldn’t have kept mixing up our names.” Those cadences came easily to her mouth and memory; her voice deepened automatically. “‘You, Rish, Pidge, Jet, Em—no—Tej, you’re the one—you, stop that!’” Her lips turned up despite herself. “I suppose you could think of him as a stepfather to the Jewels, but since he didn’t bother to sort us, we never bothered to sort him. Of course, he was a busy man. It might have just been equal inattention, but the point is…” She’d lost track of the point.

“And your mother? With all the names?”

“The Baronne,” sighed Tej, “never mixed up anything.” She paused. “Simon seems a funny sort of stepfather to you.”

Ivan flapped his hands. “If I’d been five. Or fifteen. When he took up with Mamere. Things might have been different. I’d
wanted
a father, then. At thirty, we could only be adult acquaintances, and him Mamere’s…husband. Sort of. Um-husband. Partner. Whatever.” He hesitated for a longer time. “Leaving aside the thirty years he’d watched out for me before that. But then, Simon Illyan watched out for
everybody
. Not…not making a distinction amongst us. But Simon—” Ivan Xav stuttered, and went on, “Do you realize that—no, I can’t say that. Or
that
, I suppose. Or…or that…”

Tej, irate and exhausted and not
just
by the day, snapped, “Well, then,
stop talking
and go to sleep.”

Ivan Xav
humphed
, sounding like…a lot like Count Falco, really.

They rolled over with their backs to each other.

Chapter Seventeen

Ivan’s first thought on waking was the same as the last that had plagued him before he’d—finally—got to sleep. Could Simon be herding Shiv into a sting? Such a move was likely as instinctive as breathing to the former ImpSec chief. It was as plausible—a lot more plausible, really—as the idea that Shiv could be suborning Simon.

In that case, would Shiv lumber blindly into the trap, or would he guess this, and set a counter-pitfall for Simon before Simon could do him…?

Neither vision was appealing.

It was maddening to suspect something was in the Arqua works, but have no idea what. Did Simon know, by now? The comforting notion that, in that case, Simon would surely be on top of it ran aground on the reflection that Shiv could well be stringing Simon along with heavily doctored information. In which case, the former ImpSec chief would likely let things run a bit to see what turned up. Giving the former pirate time to get the drop on him in turn…

This cannot end well
. Ivan clutched his hair and stumbled to the shower.

Tej and Rish were still asleep when he let himself out of his flat. The routine of the morning rush at Ops was calming, almost. Admiral Desplains inquired after Ivan’s evening, in a perfunctory sort of way, and was evidently much reassured by the news that Lady Alys and Illyan had welcomed the refugee visitors diplomatically and without incident.

“Ah, Illyan, of course,” murmured the admiral, gathering up his coffee mug. “
That
should cover everything.”

“Mm!” said Ivan brightly, and turned to his comconsole.

He was still sorting snakes when a call came in over his secured channel from ImpSec HQ, the stamp informed him. Ivan mustered a faint, practiced smile of welcome when Captain Raudsepp’s face materialized over the vid plate.

“Good, Captain Vorpatril.” Raudsepp returned the nod. “General Allegre thought you should know, your case seems to be warming up. About a day ago, ImpSec Komarr picked up a team of four individuals at the main orbital transfer station who proved to be freelance bounty hunters out of the Hegen Hub, looking to collect your wife and her companion and deliver them to a contact back in the Hub.”

Ivan lurched in his chair. That was…fast? Slow? Expected, unexpected…unfortunate? “Just Tej and Rish? Not the rest of the clan?”

“Apparently. The reward for the two women’s delivery to the Hub station was substantial. A reward for their delivery all the way to the Whole is even more substantial. The source of what the Jacksonians are pleased to call an
arrest order
is confirmed to be this Prestene syndicate that took over House Cordonah eight months ago.”

“That’s not a surprise, by now. Were these rental goons arriving or departing when Morozov’s people caught up with them?”

“Boarding ship for Vorbarr Sultana, in point of fact.”

“That’s…a bit late.”

Raudsepp shrugged. “They were quite professional. And, while we now have red flags on anything related to the new Cordonah consortium, their damned bounty system puts a natural break in any connection. Anyone at all—who is in the trade, that is—may pick up an advertisement of the bounty, and the first thing the Jacksonians who posted it, let alone us, may know of them is when they pop up on their doorstep ready to deliver and collect. Personal motives not required.”

“Crap,” said Ivan. “Then they could come out of the walls anywhere.”

Raudsepp nodded glumly. “The charge of conspiracy to kidnap a Barrayaran subject will hold this crew for the moment.” He added in a more reflective tone, “One does wonder what we will do with them if they accumulate. Some special holding pen for galactic human traffickers might have to be devised. Not that we aren’t happy to have them identified and pulled out of circulation, but…well, perhaps it’s premature to look so far ahead.”

Ivan pictured it. What the hell was the Barrayaran government supposed to do with dozens and dozens of bounty hunters? They’d make a slippery bunch to hold on to, too, as well as some of them being seriously crazy.
Miles
would know what to do with a sack of rabid weasels, but that might be a cure worse than the disease. And anyway, Miles wasn’t here. It was perhaps unworthy to think,
Thank God
.

“I suppose,” said Ivan slowly, “They’ll keep coming as long as this Prestene consortium is still out there offering the booty. And for a while after, as people fail to get the updates. Speaking of updates, is there any sign that the Arquas’ enemies have found out that the rest of them are now all here?”

“Not yet,” said Raudsepp. “But I shouldn’t think that it will improve the situation once they do. This could get expensive for my department.”

Ivan grimaced. “I suppose you fellows can think of it as a live training exercise.”

Raudsepp appeared unamused. “Do you have any idea yet how long your, ah, relatives-in-law are planning to stay?”

“Their initial emergency visa runs thirteen more days. I don’t know if they’ll succeed in getting an extension.”

“Hm.” Raudsepp frowned. “Were you able to discover if they have any further plans? Otherwise, I don’t see any impediment for them to take their family members and decamp promptly. Which would remove them from
my
work queue, at least.”

“One of them is married to a Barrayaran subject. That’s an impediment.”

Raudsepp waved this away. “I was told this marriage of yours was a temporary ploy. Not one that anyone takes seriously.”

I do.
Did he? Did Tej…?

Raudsepp mused on, “One would think a notorious Vor womanizer would have a less drastic seduction technique.”
Losing your touch?
hung implied in Raudsepp’s eyebrow twitch.

Ivan wondered irately what pruney prole ImpSec analyst had him down in reports as
a notorious Vor womanizer
.

“In any case, did you learn any more about their intentions last night?” Raudsepp sat up, preparing to record Ivan’s snitch-report.

General Allegre had said—implied—that Galactic Affairs-Raudsepp had not formerly been in the need-to-know pool about Domestic-Affairs Byerly, in the interest of preserving By’s valuable cover. By’s valuable cover, in Ivan’s view, was beginning to resemble a lace fig leaf. He’d wanted to ask,
But what if they try to shoot each other?
Well, Byerly wouldn’t shoot the uniformed Raudsepp, probably. Accidentally.

So had that
apprising
taken place yet, and this a mere triangulation?
Bloody ImpSec
. Ivan fell back on: “Simon Illyan was there. The Spook’s Spook. Can’t you ask him?”

Raudsepp was taken aback. “Oh, of course.” A daunted look came over his face. “I should not like to bother him in his retirement. His medical retirement. But certainly, no one’s observations could be keener.” Doubt colored his voice. “Once…”

So, that’s what dithering looks like on Raudsepp.
Under other circumstances, Ivan would have found it mildly entertaining.

“If Chief Illyan had spotted anything critical, he would certainly have reported it. Though maybe not on
my
level…”

Simon might have, at that. But to whom?
So why aren’t I in that need-to-know loop? I bloody need to know!
“Ask around,” Ivan suggested, shrugging. “Ah, excuse me. Admiral Desplains is paging me. Gotta go.”

Raudsepp, reluctantly, parted with him for now. That line about Desplains would have been a good lie for cutting himself loose, Ivan thought, if only it had been a lie. Wasted for now, but perhaps he could file it for future reference. He turned to hastily muster the requested files. Another, God spare Ops, interdepartmental meeting in forty minutes. Wormhole jump station Logistics versus Budget & Accounting with spreadsheets at twenty paces at dawn, aiming to kill unless someone—and Ivan knew just what someone would be expected to pitch in—could persuade them to delope. He rose to report to the inner office.

*
 
*
 
*

Tej and Rish arrived, yawning, at the Arqua hotel suite to find everyone else up betimes. Even, it appeared, Byerly, just exiting in tow of Jet, who had drafted him for a local guide. By spared Rish a grimace of a smile; she spared him a grimace of one back. Tej thought,
Why don’t you two just kiss each other and get it over with?
They so obviously wished to. But they exchanged greetings and farewells in nearly the same breaths, and parted at the lift tubes both looking back over their shoulders in dissatisfied ways.