Komarr

cannot be true to Gregor if it is false to you. But if there's one thing my father's heartbreaking experience at Solstice taught, it's that I'd better not put my word down on events I do not control. If you surrender quietly, I can control what happens. If ImpSec has to detain you by force, it will be up to chance, chaos, and the reflexes of some overexcited young men with guns and gallant visions of thwarting mad Komarran terrorists.'

'We are not terrorists,' said Foscol hotly.

'No? You've succeeded in terrifying me,' Miles said bleakly. Her lips thinned, but Soudha looked less certain.

'If you unleash ImpSec, the consequences will be your doing,' said Cappell.

'Almost correct,' Miles agreed. 'If I unleash ImpSec, the consequences will be my responsibility. It's that devil's distinction between being in charge and being in control. I'm in charge; you're in control. You can imagine how much this thrills me.'

Soudha snorted. One corner of Miles's mouth tilted up in unwilling response. Yeah, Soudha knows all about that one, l oo.

Foscol leaned forward. 'This is all a smoke screen. Captain Vorgier said they were sending for a jumpship. Where s it?'

'Vorgier was lying for time, which was his clear duty. There will not be a jumpship.' Shit, that did it. There were only two ways this could go now. There were only two ways it could go before.

'We have a pair of hostages. Do we have to space one of them to prove we're serious?'

'I believe you are deathly serious. Which one gets to watch, the aunt or the niece?' Miles asked softly, settling back again. 'You claim to not be mad terrorists, and I believe you. You're not. Yet. You are also not murderers; I actually accept that all the deaths you've left in your wake were accidents. So far. But I also know that line gets easier to slip over with practice. Please observe that you have now gone as far as you can without turning yourselves into a perfect replica of the enemy you set out to oppose.'

He let those last words hang in the air for a time, for emphasis.

'Vorkosigan's right, I think,' said Soudha unexpectedly. 'We've come to the end of our choices. Or to the beginning of another set. One that isn't the set I signed up for.'

'We have to stick together, or it's no good,' said Foscol urgently. 'If we have to space one of them, I vote for that hell-cat Vorsoisson.'

'Would you do it with your own hands?' said Soudha slowly. 'Because I think I decline.'

'Even after what she did to us?'

What in God's name did gentle Ekaterin do to you? Miles kept his expression as blank as he could, his body still.

Soudha hesitated. 'Seems it made no difference after all.'

Cappell and Madame Radovas both began to speak at once, but Soudha held up a restraining hand. He blew out his breath like a man in pain. 'No. Let us continue as we began. The choice is plain. Stop now—unconditional surrender—or call Vorkosigan's bluff. Now, it's no secret to you I thought the time to go into hiding for a later try was before we ever left Komarr.'

'I'm sorry I voted against you the last time,' Cappell said to Soudha.

Soudha shrugged. 'Yeah, well … If we're going to quit, the time's come.'

No, it hasn't, Miles thought frantically. This was too abrupt. There was time for another ten hours of chit chat at the very least. He wanted to slide them to surrender, not stampede them to suicide. Or murder. If they believed him about the defects of their device, as they appeared to, it must soon occur to them that they could hold the whole station hostage, if they didn't mind the self-immolating aspect. Well, if they weren't going to think of that themselves, far be it from him to point it out. He leaned back in his station chair, and chewed on the side of his finger, and watched, and listened.

'There's no benefit in waiting, either way,' Soudha went on. 'The risk increases every minute. Lena?'

'No surrender,' said Foscol sturdily. 'We go on.' And more bleakly, 'Somehow.'

'Cappell?'

The mathematician hesitated a long time. 'I can't stand that Marie died for nothing. Hold out.'

'Myself …' Soudha let his big square hand fall open. 'Stop. Now that we've lost surprise, this goes nowhere. The only question is how long it takes to arrive.' He turned to Madame Radovas.

'Oh. My turn already? I didn't want to go last.'

'Yours would be the tie-breaking vote in any case,' said Soudha.

Madame Radovas fell silent, staring out the control booth's glass—at the airlock door, across the bay? Miles's gaze could but help following hers; her turn back caught him at it, and he flinched.

You've done it now, boy. Ekaterin's life and your soul's oath hang on a frigging Komarran shareholders' debate. How did you let this happen? This wasn't in the plans. . . . His eye relocated, and ignored, the code on his comconsole that would launch Vorgier and his waiting troops.

Madame Radovas's gaze returned to window. She said, to no one in particular, 'Our safety before always depended on secrecy. Now even if we get to Pol or Escobar, or further, ImpSec will follow us. There would not ever be a safe time give up our hostages. In exile or not, it will be prisons, always prisoners. I'm tired of being a prisoner, of hope, of fear.'

'You were not a prisoner!' said Foscol. 'You were one of us, I thought.'

Madame Radovas looked across at her. 'I supported my husband. If I hadn't—he would still be alive. Lena, I'm tired.' Foscol said tentatively, 'Maybe you should rest, before deciding.'

The look she got from Madame Radovas in return for that line made her drop her eyes, and look away. Madame Radovas said to Soudha, 'Do you believe him, about the device not working?'

Soudha frowned deeply. 'Yes. I'm afraid so. Or I would have acted differently.'

'Poor Barto.' She stared at Miles for a long time in an almost detached wonder.

Encouraged by her apparent dispassion, he asked curiously, why is your vote the tie-breaker?'

'The scheme was my husband's idea, originally. This obsession has dominated my life for seven years. His voting share is always considered the greatest.'

How very Komarran. Then Soudha had actually been the second-in-command, forced into the dead man's shoes . . . was all amazingly irrelevant now. Maybe they'll name it after him. The Radovas Effect. Belike. 'We are both heirs, of a sort, then.'

'Indeed.' The widow's lips twisted. 'You know, I will never forget the look on your face when that fool Vorsoisson told you there was no place on his forms for an Imperial order. I almost laughed out loud, despite it all.'

Miles smiled briefly, scarcely daring to breathe.

Madame Radovas shook her head in disbelief, but not, he thought, of his promises. 'Well, Lord Vorkosigan . . . I'll take your word. And find out what it's worth.' She searched the faces of each of her three colleagues, but when she spoke, she looked at him. 'I vote to stop now.'

Miles waited tensely for signs of dissension, protest, internal revolt. Cappell struck his fist on the booth's glass wall, which reverberated, and turned away, his features working. Foscol buried her face in her hands. After that, silence.

'That's it, then,' said Soudha, bleakly exhausted. Miles wondered if the news of the device's inherent defect had sapped his will more than any argument. 'We surrender, on your word for our lives. Lord Auditor Vorkosigan.' He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again. 'Now what?'

'A lot of sensible slow moves. First I gently detach ImpSec from its vision of a heroic assault. They were getting pretty worked up, out here. Then you inform the rest of your group. Then disarm whatever booby-traps you've set, and pile any weapons you may possess well away from yourselves. Unlock the doors. Then sit down quietly on the loading bay floor with your hands behind your heads. At that point, I'll let the boys in.' He added prudently, 'Please avoid sudden movements, that sort of thing.'

'So be it.' Soudha cut his comm; the Komarrans winked out. Miles shuddered in sudden disorientation, alone again in his little sealed room. The screaming man behind the glass wall in his mind was getting out a