Lois Bujold - Captain Vorpatril's alliance

“My personal embarrassment doesn’t seem the most important issue, here. Doesn’t mean I enjoy it. But you’re welcome. I really do hope no harm has come to Sera Brindis.”

Ivan rather pointedly escorted his visitors to the security desk to sign out. The harrowing interview over, he fled the building.

Captain Vorpatril returned nerve-wrackingly late after dark, when both sun and soletta had set. Tej forgave him almost immediately for the sake of the several large, heavy, handled bags he bore, from which delectable odors issued.

“We have to talk,” he wheezed, but the two famished women overbore him without much resistance on his part.

“We have to eat . Do you realize you left us nothing but those awful ration bars?” Tej demanded. “That was all we had for lunch. Well, and the wine,” she added fairly. “That was pretty good.”

“ I had rat bars for breakfast and lunch, and no wine at all,” he one-upped this.

Rish, whose metabolism was permanently set on high, sped to lay out plates and eating tools on the round glass table across from the kitchenette. The bags disgorged three kinds of pasta, grilled vegetables, a sauté of spinach, garlic, and pine nuts, sliced vat beef, roasted vat chicken with rosemary, salads both leafy and fruit, cheeses, cheesecake, three flavors of ice cream and two of sorbets, and more wine. Tej could only think I do like a man who keeps his promises.

“I wasn’t sure if you had any special dietary things, customs, needs,” Vorpatril explained. “So I tried to get a range. All Komarran-style; there’s a good place just up the street.”

“I’ll eat anything that wasn’t ever a live animal,” Rish avowed, setting-to in demonstration.

“I was beginning to think about compromising on that live animal part,” Tej added.

Vorpatril, she was pleased to see, was a man who appreciated his food. Given the rat bars, she’d begun to picture him concealing a level of Barrayaran barbarism that even the holovids hadn’t hinted at. But the selection demonstrated an unexpected level of discernment and balance. The attunement of his senses couldn’t match her or Rish’s innate aptitude and formal training, of course, but it was far from hopeless. And he seemed unwilling to damage the dining ambiance with upsetting discourse, which suited Tej just fine.

He was still working up to whatever he’d wanted to disclose when he went off to the lav and to shed his jacket and shoes, returned via the couch, sat, and more or less fell over. “Just need to close my eyes f’r a minute…”

The eyes stayed closed; after a while, the mouth opened. He didn’t snore, exactly; it was more of a soothing purring sound, muffled by the cushion he clutched.

Rish crossed her arms and regarded him. “I’ll concede, these Barrayarans are cute when they’re asleep. They stop talking.” Her head tilted. “He even drools fetchingly.”

“He does not drool!” Tej smiled despite herself.

“Don’t get attached, sweetling,” Rish advised. “This one is dangerous.”

Tej stared down at the sleeping officer. He didn’t look all that dangerous, not with that curl of dark hair straying over his forehead, just begging for a soft hand to put it to rights…“Really?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Should we wake him up?” asked Tej doubtfully. “I don’t think he slept at all last night. I thought he would doze in the chair.”

“Eh, let sleeping creatures lie.” Rish glanced at her wristcom. “Besides, my favorite ’vid comes on right now…”

Rish, immured in their flat for weeks on end, had developed an addiction to an array of Komarran holovid serial dramas, a fondness Tej did not especially share. After a day of grubbing, the short Komarran evening left her little time for relaxation. Rish went off now to the bedroom, which had the best holovid remote link, and closed the door. First turning off the lights to make sure she was not visible from a distance, Tej slipped onto the balcony and stared out for a time at the strange, sealed city. Was her long journey doomed to end here—one way or another? It could be worse. But it was not her choice, just an accumulation of chances.

She returned at length, carefully locking the balcony door and drawing the drapes, then set herself to quietly cleaning up after their meal. There was plenty left over to sustain them through tomorrow, at least. The captain appeared to be planning on keeping her and Rish, not that the decision was his. She returned to the couch and tentatively tried to poke him awake, pulling away the cushion. He clutched it back with surprising strength and determination for an unconscious man, mumbling and turning over to protect it, so Tej gave up and just sat down across from him to contemplate the view. She had to admit, it was a good view, genetically speaking. For a wild-caught.

After another few minutes, Rish came out to join her, smiling in a pleased way. “I was right about Hendro Fon,” she informed Tej. “He was faking the amnesia. And the DNA sample had been substituted. Sera Jenna was a real clone! I’ll bet the trade fleet merger is off now.” She sat beside Tej and nodded at Vorpatril. “Still out, is he?”

“Yes. He must have been exhausted. I wonder what it is they make an aide-de-camp do all day, anyway?”

“I have no idea,” said Rish.

Quiet held sway for a time.

Tej finally murmured, “Rish, what do we do next? We’re good here for tonight, probably tomorrow, but then what? I can’t go back to my job.”

“Small loss. I know you worked hard, sweetling, but your grubber job was far too slow in filling the bag. I said so at the time.”

“You did. I thought Nanja would get something better soon.” And the commonplace shop had seemed to be ideal for lying very low indeed. Tej had learned how to do every task required of her in less than two days. Which was good, because she doubted she’d have been up to mastering anything more challenging, just then. I’m so sick of this struggle . “Nanja Brindis used up my last identity package, and she was barely deep enough to pass even a cursory inspection.” Maybe that was a good thing. Her next identity would surely be less predictable to their pursuers if even she couldn’t predict it.

Nor afford it .

If they could get to Escobar, better identities might be made available to them there, but if they couldn’t get off Komarr without better IDs…

“I really realize, now, what it is to be Houseless.”

Rish gripped her hand in brief consolation. “I suppose we could try going to ground in a different dome. Maybe Equinox, or Serifosa. If we can’t afford a jumpship, we could at least afford the monorail. Get out of Solstice, where we know we’ve been smoked.” Her voice was unpressing.

“A smaller dome would make it even harder to hide, though.”

Rish stood, stretched, and wandered over to prod their host. When he did not stir, she leaned over and neatly forked his wallet from his pocket. She brought it back to Tej, and they went through it together, again.

“Not much cash,” said Rish, “and we can’t use his credit chit. Though I suppose his IDs would fetch a good price, if we could find the right buyer.”

“This”—Tej fingered the thin stack of local currency, then tucked it into the wallet again—“would only sustain us for a few days. We’ve a couple of days for free right here. This much wouldn’t get us ahead. Just put it back.”

Rish shrugged and did so, as deftly as she had extracted it.

Tej leaned her head back, her own eyes closed for a time.

“I saw this vid show,” Rish offered after a while, “all about Sergyar, and the colonization effort. It looked like a nice world, breathable atmosphere and all.”