Komarr

I estimate. Will you please leave your channel open?'

'Listen. I think my assailants have taken off with my Auditor's seal. Delegate someone to start trying to track it at once. Find it and you'll find them, if it's not just been dropped around here somewhere. You can check that possibility when you get here.'

Vorkosigan then insisted on a tour of the building, drafting Ekaterin once more as occasional support, though he stumbled very little now. He frowned at the melted comconsole, and at the empty rooms, and stared with narrowed eyes at the jumbles of equipment. Tuomonen and his men arrived just as they were reentering the lobby.

Lord Vorkosigan's lips twitched in bemusement as two half-armored guards, stunners at the ready, leaped through the airseal door. They gave Vorkosigan anxious nods, which he acknowledged with a wry salutelike gesture, then pelted after each other through the facility for a rather noisy security check. Vorkosigan hitched himself into a deliberately more relaxed posture, leaning against an upholstered chair. Captain Tuomonen, another Barrayaran soldier in half-armor, and three men in medical gear followed into the lobby.

'My lord!' said Tuomonen, pulling down his breath mask. His tone of voice sounded familiarly maternal to Ekaterin's ear, halfway between Thank God you're safe and I'm going to strangle you with my bare hands.

'Good evening, Captain,' said Vorkosigan genially. 'So glad to see you.'

'You didn't notify me!'

'Yes, it was entirely my mistake, and I'll be certain to note your exoneration in my report,' Vorkosigan said soothingly.

'It's not that, dammit!' Tuomonen strode over to him, motioning a medic in his wake. He took in Vorkosigan's macerated wrists and bloody hands. 'Who did that to you?'

'I did it to myself, rather, I'm afraid.' Vorkosigan's pose of studied ease slipped back into his original grimness. 'It could have been worse, as I will show you directly. Around back. I want you to record everything, a complete scan. Anything you're in doubt of, leave for the experts from HQ. I want a top forensics team scrambled from Solstice immediately. Two teams, one for out here, one for those royally buggered comconsoles at the Terraforming offices. But first, I think,' he glanced at the medtechs, and at Ekaterin, 'we should get Administrator Vorsoisson's body down.'

'Here's the key,' said Ekaterin numbly, producing it from her pocket.

'Thank you,' said Vorkosigan, taking it from her. 'Wait here, please.' He jerked up his chin, checked and pulled up his mask, and led the still-protesting Tuomonen back out the airseal doors, imperiously motioning the medics to follow. Ekaterin could still hear the clattering and strained sharp voices of the armed guards, echoing from distant corridors deeper in the office building.

She huddled into the chair Vorkosigan had vacated, feeling very odd not to be following the men to Tien. But someone else was going to be cleaning up the mess this time, it appeared. A few tears leaked from her eyes, residue of her body-shock she supposed, for she surely felt no more emotion than if she'd been a lump of lead.

After a long while, the men returned to the lobby, where Tuomonen finally persuaded Vorkosigan to sit down and let the senior medic attend to his injured wrists.

'This isn't the treatment I'm most concerned about just now,' Vorkosigan complained, as a hypospray of synergine hissed into the side of his neck. 'I have to get back to Serifosa. There's something I really need out of my luggage.'

'Yes, my lord,' said the medtech soothingly, and went on cleaning and bandaging.

Tuomonen went out to his aircar to relay some terse communication with his ImpSec superiors in Solstice, then returned to lean on the back of the chair and watch the medtech finish up.

Vorkosigan eyed Ekaterin, across the medtech. 'Madame Vorsoisson. In retrospect, thinking back, did your husband ever say anything that indicated this scam had to do with something more than money?'

Ekaterin shook her head.

Tuomonen, in gruff tones, put in, 'I'm afraid, Madame Vorsoisson, that ImpSec is going to have to take charge of your late husband's body. There must be a complete examination.'

'Yes, of course,' Ekaterin said faintly. She paused. 'Then what?'

'We'll let you know, Madame.' He turned to Vorkosigan, evidently continuing a conversation. 'So what else did you think of, when you were tied up out there?'

'All I could really think about was when my next seizure was due,' said Vorkosigan ruefully. 'It became kind of an obsession, after a while. But I don't think Foscol knew about that hidden defect, either.'

'I still want to call it murder and attempted murder, for the all-Sectors alert order,' said Tuomonen, evidently continuing a debate. 'And the attempted murder of an Imperial Auditor makes it treason, which disposes of any arguments about requisitions.'

'Yes, very good,' sighed Vorkosigan in acquiescence. 'Make sure your reports have the facts clear, though, please.'

'As I see them, my lord.' Tuomonen grimaced, then burst out, 'Damn, to think how long this thing must have been going on, right under my nose . . . !'

'Not your jurisdiction, Captain,' observed Vorkosigan. 'It was the Imperial Accounting Office's job to spot this kind of fraud in the civil service. Still . . . there's something very wrong here.'

'I should say so!'

'No, I mean beyond the obvious.' Vorkosigan hesitated. 'They abandoned all their personal effects, yet took at least two air-vans of equipment.'

'To . . . sell?' Ekaterin posited. 'No, that makes no sense. …'

'Mm, and they left in a group, didn't split up. These people seemed to me to be Komarran patriots, of a sort. I can see where they might classify theft from the Barrayaran Imperium as something between a hobby and a patriotic duty, but … to steal from the Komarran Terraforming Project, the hope of their future generations? And if it wasn't just to line their pockets, what the devil were they using all the money for?' He scowled. 'That will be for ImpSec's forensic accounting team to sort out, I suppose. And I want engineering experts in here, to see if they can make anything at all from the mess that's been left. And not left. It's clear Soudha's crew put something together in the Engineering building, and I don't think it had anything to do with waste heat.' He rubbed his forehead, and muttered, 'I'll bet Marie Trogir could tell us. Damn but I wish I'd fast-penta'd Madame Radovas when I had the chance.'

Ekaterin swallowed a lump of dread and humiliation. 'I'm going to have to tell my uncle.'

Vorkosigan glanced up at her. 'I'll take over that task, Madame Vorsoisson.'

She frowned, torn between what seemed to her weak gratitude, and a dreary sense of duty, but could not muster the energy to argue with him. The medic finished winding the last medical tape around Vorkosigan's wrists.

'I must leave you in charge here, Captain, and return to Serifosa. I don't dare fly myself. Madame Vorsoisson, would you be so kind . . . ?'

'You will take a guard,' said Tuomonen, a little dangerously.

'I have to get the flyer back,' said Ekaterin. 'It's rented.' She squinted, realizing how stupid that sounded. But it was the only fragment of order in this mortal chaos it was presently in her power to restore. And then, belatedly, the realization came: I can go home. It's safe to go home. Her voice strengthened. 'Certainly, Lord Vorkosigan.'

The presence of the hulking young guard crowded into the flyer behind them, Vorkosigan's exhaustion, and Ekaterin's emotional disorientation combined to blunt conversation on the flight back to Serifosa. She drew stares, turning the flyer back in at the rental desk while trailed politely by a large, fully-armed, half-armored soldier and a dwarfish man with bloody clothes and bandages on his wrists, but on the other hand, they had a bubble-car all to themselves for the ride back to the apartment. There were no delays in the system on this return leg, Ekaterin noted with weary irony. She wondered if there would be any point, later when this all got sorted out, to check if Vorkosigan's insistence that it had already been too late for Tien when Foscol had called her was precisely true.

Her steps quickened in the hallway of her apartment; she felt like an injured animal, wanting nothing more than to go hide in her burrow. She came to an abrupt halt at her door, and her breath drew in. The palm-lock panel was hanging partway out of the wall, and the sliding door was not entirely closed. A thin line of light leaked along