You look like someone hit you on the head with a mallet, and you’re just waiting to fall down. You’re scaring me, sweetling.”
“Am I?” Tej blinked. “I sure didn’t see that blow coming. I wonder if he really thinks he married me?”
Rish shifted her head and eyed Tej narrowly, as if checking to see that her pupils were still the same size. “Do you think you really married him?”
“I have no idea. I guess the important thing is that everyone else seems to.” Tej took a deep breath. “And till we find out what all else this Lady Vorpatril business is good for, we’d likely better go along with it.”
Rish pursed her lips, nodded, and stood back, releasing her worried grip. “Point taken.” Her mouth tightened. “So what are we going to tell this Morozov fellow? Think, sweetling, think.”
Tej rubbed her forehead. “I’d be perfectly happy to feed everything we know about those House Prestene bastards to Barrayar, if only I could be sure they weren’t about to become new best friends afterward. Though if the Prestene syndicate is really on the other end of this smuggling scheme, I think the Barrayarans aren’t going to be too well-disposed toward House Cordonah’s new management. I know even Dada and the Baronne took care how they crossed these Imperium crazies. It’s rumored that all of House Ryoval was taken down by a single ImpSec agent, after the old baron pissed Barrayar off somehow.”
Rish whistled. “Really?”
“That’s the tale Star told me, anyway. She got it from someone in House Fell. So I think…” Tej wished she could think. Her brain seemed to have turned to mush. “I think we should tell this Morozov almost everything. Bury him in details, so’s he won’t have either the time or the motivation to move on to the fast-penta.”
“Ah.”
“Our story will be that the syndicate is after you as a flashy prize, and me as a baby enemy they want to strangle in the cradle.” Yes, that had seemed to work for the Byerly person. And besides, it was true. “Hold back only anything about where Amiri is. Anything about Amiri, come to think. And don’t volunteer anything about Star and Pidge. Or Grandmama.”
Rish nodded understanding.
They both made quick dashes for the stalls, returning to the station corridor before Vorpatril overcame his social conditioning and came in looking for them, although, by the glare he cast them, it had been a near thing.
“Crowded?” he inquired.
“Lots of little kids,” Tej said truthfully. “I think they must have eaten straight sugar for breakfast.” That was the best deal, yes. Truth.
Just not all of it.
To Ivan’s relief, Morozov was already waiting at the ImpSec Galactic Affairs reception desk when he guided the two women inside the lobby. Morozov’s eyes widened as Rish turned to face him, but then he managed a boffin-y bow.
“Lapis Lazuli. A visit to ImpSec’s humble quarters by an artist of your caliber is quite an honor.” His lips parted in equal surprise as he took in Tej. “And, if I am not mistaken, one of the Misses Arqua as well! This is excellent, Vorpatril.”
“You’re mistaken,” said Ivan. “Or anyway, behind the times. Captain Morozov, may I present the new Lady Vorpatril.”
Morozov blinked. Three times. And rose to the challenge: “Congratulations to you both. Er…a recent happy event, was this?”
“About”-Ivan glanced at the time on his wristcom, ouch — “an hour ago.” He drew breath. “But it’s all right and tight and legal, we had the groats and the oaths and the witnesses and everything. Which means she is now officially an Imperial Service officer’s dependent. And Rish is her, um, personal assistant. In my employ. Officially.”
“I see. I think…?” Morozov laced his hands together; Ivan wasn’t sure if that lip-biting expression concealed dismay, or unholy glee.
“An officer’s dependent who some very unpleasant people have been trying to kidnap and maybe murder,” Ivan forged on.
That got the analyst’s full attention. “Ah. I see. We can’t have that, can we?”
“Right. So I’m leaving them with you for the day till I can get back downside and deal with, uh, everything. They probably ought to stay in the building. I thought you all could talk.”
“It would be my very great pleasure,” said Morozov, brightening right up. Tej and Rish did not look nearly as thrilled as he did.
“And no damned fast-penta,” Ivan continued. “I think you’d have to ask my husbandly permission anyway, but just in case there’s a question, you don’t have it. My permission, that is.”
Morozov’s brows twitched. “Noted. Er…if I may ask a personal question…does your mother know about this marriage yet?”
“Nobody knows about this marriage yet, but that’ll change soon enough. One thing at a time. I’m due to accompany Desplains upside in, oh God, twenty minutes ago. I hope they’re holding the shuttle.”
Morozov waved an ImpSec salute at him. “Then I shall consider myself detailed to guard the new Lady Vorpatril from all harm until your return, shall I?”
“Please.” Ivan turned away, turned back. “And feed them. They’ll like that. Nobody’s had breakfast yet.” He started off and stopped again. “But not rat bars.”
“I’ll send my clerk to bring up something from the cafeteria. Ladies, will you come with me? I can offer you coffee or tea in my office.” Morozov gestured the uneasy women away down the corridor, and continued in the tone of a town Vor dame, or possibly Byerly Vorrutyer, at the most gossipy: “And I’m dying to hear all about your wedding, Lady Vorpatril! I’m sure this will come as a delightful surprise to all of Captain Vorpatril’s friends…”
Ivan pushed through the doors and ran. He made sure to make it that special bland run that said, I’m late and in a hurry, and not the wild bolt that said, This building I am fleeing is about to explode, because he didn’t want to spread panic. He had enough panic tamped into his head right now to blow up a battalion. This’ll work this’ll work, this had better work…
He found, thanks be, the admiral’s shuttle still waiting in Dock Six. Desplains and all four of the Horsemen were aboard, fuming with impatience. The shuttle was already moving as Ivan flung himself into the seat where the scowling Desplains pointed and snapped his belts closed.
“We’re off to inspect the flagship New Athens, right?” Ivan wheezed.
“So glad you remembered,” said Desplains, drawing a long breath for what promised to be a classic bolt of scouring sarcasm, but Ivan shook his head.
“Change it to the Kanzian.”
Desplains stopped dead in mid-rant-launch. “What?”
“The Kanzian. Tell the shuttle pilot to dock at the Kanzian.”
Desplains sat back, eyes narrowing. “Why?”
“Because hidden somewhere aboard it-or possibly clamped outside of it-are several cargo pods full of equipment, weapons, and supplies stolen from the Sergyar Fleet Orbital Depot. Which their conveyors are no doubt trying frantically to camouflage right now, in anticipation of our scheduled inspection tomorrow.” Ivan nodded to the inspection team chief, leaning over the aisle to hear this. “Forget the rest, that’s what the Horsemen should look for.”
“How do you know this, Vorpatril?” asked Desplains.
“I had a tip-off from an ImpSec agent.”
“ImpSec didn’t tell me.”
“This was one of their left-hand men, the sort the right hands don’t talk to. Frigging weasels. But he’s known to me. The reasons I’ve been late for work the past few days weren’t just personal ones, sir.”
“Are you sure of this?”
“Very.” IhopeIhopeIhope…
“ImpSec.” Desplains sat back, his scowl transmuting to his thinking-frown, scarcely less alarming. “I suppose you would know.”
“I do in this case, sir.” Adding I’d stake my career on it seemed redundant, since he just had. “But you can’t even hint where you got the tip, sir. There are ImpSec agents still on the ground in the matter who are at high risk
