Lois Bujold - Captain Vorpatril's alliance

Meanwhile, spread the blame…Ivan turned to Allegre, and asked, “Did you ever find out anything more about Sergeant Abelard and his bomb?”

“What?” said Allegre, startled. This gave Ivan the opportunity to tell that tale, and present the dog-tags, happily still in his pocket. Star had only evidently got as far as conveying the skeleton and old bomb parts; Ivan could see Allegre was gratified to have at least one answer to his high-piled heap of morning mysteries presented, as it were, on a platter, especially as it didn’t seem like anyone would be doing any DNA work on the poor dead bastard any time soon, if any body fragments could be found after the blast. Also, it punted the ball back into ImpSec’s lap, if at a thirty-five year remove, which could only be to the good.

“Is there really a treasure worth millions of marks down there?” Simon demanded next. Galeni was right at his shoulder, for this one.

“Simon, there were millions in the first crate we opened. Hundred of millions down there, at the least guess.” Ivan turned to Galeni. “And crates of hundred-year-old documents packed to the ceiling, Barrayaran and Cetagandan. They’re going to take years to sort. I found a holograph letter from Prince Xav to Prince Yuri in one of them.” He pulled the folded letter out of his jacket and handed it across to Duv, who took it; one glance, and his mouth, which had opened to say something—probably about correct document conservation starting with not folding up rare items and stuffing them in one’s pocket—just stayed open. Ivan had never seen Duv’s eyes go so wide.

Across the road, a stressed-out-looking Captain Raudsepp finished loading Imola and his followers into a security van with the assistance of a couple of burly patrollers, then turned and plowed back through the crowd to Ivan.

“Lady Vorpatril is safe? Thank God! But I swear, those clowns didn’t slip in through any shuttleport on the planet!”

“No, they probably drove downtown from the northern suburbs. What Shiv would call local rental meat. That Imola fellow has a shipping company out there.”

As Raudsepp continued to look unsettled, Ivan added charitably, “Both the District Guard and Imperial Customs are going to be very pleased with ImpSec in the person of you for nailing him. Smuggling, conspiracy to aid kidnapping—seems he’s been up to his neck in sneaking people off-planet in the form of cryocorpses, all very nasty. Imola’s affairs’ll keep folks busy digging for weeks, I expect. Commendations all round at the end.”

“But I wasn’t—but I didn’t—”

“He’s all yours now. Finders keepers, I say.”

Raudsepp perforce had to dash back to the security van, flashing its lights and ready to leave, but Ivan was satisfied he’d given the man lots to think about besides, or with luck instead of, Captain Vorpatril’s peculiar lapse in providing timely snitch reports on his in-laws.

Byerly appeared at Ivan’s side, aiming for Tej. He had evidently been trying to herd Arquas into the waiting medical vans; Shiv and Udine had broken from the pack and followed close on his heels.

Tej stared across apprehensively. “Are they arresting us?”

Allegre looked as if he thought this would be a good idea, but Byerly reassured her, “No. Or anyway, not yet. They’re just taking everyone to ImpMil—the Imperial Military Hospital—for trauma examination. And there’re those unresolved biohazard issues.”

“Are you going along?” Ivan asked By. “For the love of God, get someone who speaks old-high-medical onto Lady ghem Estif as soon as you can. She’s a woman who knows where all the bodies are buried if anyone does.”

Byerly nodded understanding, and turned. “Tej, are you coming with your family?”

Udine cut in: “Your Dada and I think you should stay with your husband—Lady Vorpatril.”

Tej, Ivan could see in her expressive face, took a moment to process the full implications of this. Her parents might only be thinking of distancing their daughter from whatever legal entanglements were about to engulf the rest of the clan. But he rather thought Tej meant something more when she lifted her chin, threaded her arm though Ivan’s, and said, “I think I should stay with my husband, too.”

Ivan slipped his other hand over hers, and pressed it warmly. Yes, stay right there. For the rest of my life. Which was looking hearteningly longer than it had mere hours ago, but he wasn’t about to suggest amending his last-night’s proposition.

Shiv gave a short nod, and looked up to meet Simon’s searching gaze. He stuck out a big hand. “Well. It’s been an adventure dealing with you—Captain Illyan. Excellently played.”

Illyan, as if compelled, took it and shook it. “Thank you. Though I fear you were mainly ambushed by mischance. And—we may not be done dealing yet. Baron Cordonah.”

Shiv’s brow furrowed at this, but he allowed Byerly, now looking like a sheepdog on the verge of a nervous breakdown, to chivvy him and his spouse off to the waiting med-vans. Udine glanced once back over her shoulder, her eyes narrowing in new curiosity. The vans pulled away in a convoy, without sirens, to Ivan’s relief. He wasn’t in the mood for sudden, loud noises just now.

At some high-priority ping from his earbug, Allegre stepped aside. “What? Here? No, wave him off!” After another moment, his back straightened in an involuntary brace. “Yes? Yes, he’s right here. No…I must protest…Yes, sire.” That last was delivered with a somewhat defeated sigh, and he strode away to the covered command post.

Ivan was therefore less than surprised when, a few minutes later, Imperial armsmen outriders in their black-and-silver winter uniforms appeared around the corner, their float bikes bracketing a long silver groundcar. It sighed to the pavement. Armsmen and ImpSec guards exchanged codes with one another, and, gleaming even in the dawn murk, the rear canopy rose. Gregor, in a Vorbarra House uniform, rubbed his face and handed off the cloth to an urgent fellow whom Ivan recognized as his faithful valet—this was one Commander-in-Chief who was not going to appear at the scene of any emergency unshaved, if his man had anything to say about it—and exited the groundcar under the anxious supervision of his senior armsmen.

Everyone braced as he approached, except for Lady Alys who granted him a chin-dip that evoked a curtsey; Allegre and Galeni saluted. Gregor returned a fitting Imperial nod.

“Ivan!” This was one Voice that seemed unapologetically glad to find him; Gregor’s embrace was sincere. “They told me you were drawn up from the tomb alive, but I had to see for myself. Lady Tej. I’m so glad.” He bowed over her hand; she managed a reasonably graceful obeisance.

His eye fell on Simon, watching this with his mouth gone wry. “And Simon. What the hell ?” The Why was I blindsided? look was very clear in the emperor’s eye, which Ivan could only be grateful was not turned on him. Yet.

Simon gave him a beleaguered head tilt. “You know that long lunch appointment I made with you for tomorrow?”

“Yes…?”

“I should have made it for yesterday.”

Gregor accepted this with an extremely provisional nod. “We’ll discuss that. Later.”

Gregor’s gaze swept over the disrupted landscape. “General Allegre…” Allegre steeled himself. “Good work.” The general let out a pent breath as Gregor went on, “I’d like to have a personal word with your commander of engineers, if you please.”

Allegre went over to the command post and fetched the man, who’d been directing the platoon of engineers spread all over the site through the portable comconsoles there. Ivan recognized him; Colonel Otto, one of the top men in the Vorbarr Sultana local command. Like Galeni, he had a doctorate tucked away under his military rank. He, too, was in uniform—sensible black fatigues under his greatcoat, with proper engineering mud splashed about, thick on his engineer’s boots. He accepted his emperor’s personal congratulations on his night’s work with a pleased but slightly distracted expression.