accuracy that seemed no part of herself, she felled him too, then looked frantically around for a place of concealment.
Some conduits ran overhead; people entering a room usually look down and around before thinking to look up. She stuck the stunner in her belt, and with a leap she could never have duplicated in cold blood, pulled herself up between the conduits and the armored ceiling. Breathing silently through her open mouth, she drew her stunner again and prepared for whatever might come through the oval door to the main engineering bay.
'What was that noise? What's going on in there?'
'Throw in a grenade and seal the door.'
'We can't, our men are in there.'
'Wentz, report!'
Silence.
'You go in, Tafas.'
'Why me?'
'Because I order you.'
Tafas crept cautiously around the door, stepping over the threshold almost on tiptoe. He turned around and around, staring. Afraid that they would close and lock the door at another firing, she waited until he at last looked up.
She smiled winningly at him, and gave a little wave of her fingers. 'Close the door,' she mouthed silently, pointing.
He stared at her with a very odd expression on his face, baffled, hopeful, and angry all at once. The bell of his disruptor seemed large as a searchlight, pointed quite accurately at her head. It was like looking into the eye of judgment. A standoff, of sorts. Vorkosigan is right, she thought; a disruptor does have real authority …
Then Tafas called, 'I think there may be some kind of gas leak or something. Better close the door a second while I check.' It swung closed obediently behind him.
Cordelia smiled down from the ceiling, eyes narrowed. 'Hi. Want to get out of this mess?'
'What are you doing here—Betan?'
Excellent question, she thought ruefully. 'Trying to save a few lives. Don't worry—your friends over there are only stunned.' I won't mention the one hit by friendly fire—dead, perhaps, because of a moment's mercy for me… 'Come on over to our side,' she coaxed, madly echoing a child's game. 'Captain Vorkosigan will forgive you— expunge the record. Give you a medal,' she promised recklessly.
'What medal?'
'How should I know? Any medal you want. You don't even have to kill anybody. I have another stunner.'
'What guarantee do I have?'
Desperation made her daring. 'Vorkosigan's word. You tell him I pledged it to you.'
'Who are you to pledge his word?'
'Lady Vorkosigan, if we both live.' A lie? Truth? Hopeless fantasy?
Tafas gave a whistle, staring up at her. Belief began to illuminate his face.
'You really want to be responsible for letting a hundred fifty of your friends breathe vacuum just to save that Ministerial spy's career?' she added cogently.
'No,' he said firmly at last. 'Give me the stunner.'
Now shall trust be tested… . She dropped it down to him. 'Three down and seven to go. What's the best approach?'
'I can lure a couple more in here. The others are at the main entrance. We can rush them from behind, if we're lucky.'
'Go ahead.'
Tafas opened the door. 'It was a gas leak,' he coughed convincingly. 'Help me drag these guys out and we'll seal the door.'
'I could swear I heard a stunner go off a while ago,' said his companion, entering.
'Maybe they were trying to attract attention.'
The mutineer's face flared with suspicion as the stupidity of this suggestion sank in. 'They didn't have stunners,' he began. Fortunately, the second man entered at this point. Cordelia and Tafas fired in unison.
'Five down, five to go,' Cordelia said, dropping to the floor. Her left leg buckled; it wasn't moving quite right. 'Odds are getting better all the time.'
'It had better be quick, if it's going to work at all,' warned Tafas.
'Suits me.'
They slid out the door and ran lightly across the engineering bay, which continued its automatic tasks, indifferent to its masters' identity. Some black—uniformed bodies were piled carelessly to one side. Tafas held up his hand for caution as they rounded the corner, jabbing a finger significantly. Cordelia nodded. Tafas walked around the corner quietly, and Cordelia pinned herself to its very edge, waiting. As Tafas raised his stunner she oozed around, searching for a target. The chamber narrowed in this L, ending in the main entrance to the deck above. Five men stood with their attention riveted to the clanks and hisses penetrating dimly through a hatch at the top of some metal stairs.
'They're getting ready to storm,' said one. 'It's time to let their air out.'
Famous last words, she thought, and fired, once and twice. Tafas fired too, rapidly fanning the group, and it was over. And I will never, she pledged silently, call one of Stuben's stunts harebrained again. She wanted to throw down her stunner and howl and roll in reaction, but her own job was not finished.
'Tafas,' she called. 'I've got to do one more thing.'
He came to her side, looking shaky himself.
'I've gotten you out of this, and I need a favor in return. How can I cut control to the long-range plasma weapons so you can't get it back for an hour and a half?'
'Why do you want to do that? Did the Captain order it?'
'No,' she said honestly. 'The Captain didn't order any of this, but he'll like it when he sees it, don't you think?'
Tafas, confused, agreed. 'If you short this panel,' he suggested, 'it should slow things down quite a bit.'
'Give me your plasma arc.'
Need I? she wondered, looking over the section. Yes. He would fire on us, just as surely as I'm cutting for home. Trust is one thing; treason another. I have no wish to test him to destruction.
Now, if Tafas isn't fooling me by pointing out the controls to the toilets or something … She blasted the panel, and stared with a moment's primitive fascination as it popped and sparked.
'Now,' she said, handing the plasma arc back, 'I want a couple of minutes head start. Then you can open the door and be a hero. I suggest you call first and warn them; Sergeant Bothari's in front.'
'Right. Thanks.'
She glanced up at the main entry hatch. About three meters away, he is now, she thought. An uncrossable gulf. So in the physics of the heart, distance is relative; it's time that's absolute. The seconds spun like spiders down her spine.
She chewed her lip, eyes devouring Tafas. Last chance to leave a message for Vorkosigan—no. The absurdity of transmitting the words, 'I love you' through Tafas's mouth shook her with painful inward laughter. 'My compliments' sounded rather swelled—headed, under the circumstances: 'my regards,' too cold; as for the simplest of all, 'yes' …
She shook her head silently and smiled at the puzzled soldier, then ran back to the storeroom and scrambled back up the ladder. She beat a rhythmic tattoo upon the hatch. In a moment it opened. She found herself nose to nose with a plasma arc held by Yeoman Nilesa.
'I've got some new terms to carry back to your Captain,' she said glibly. 'They're a little screwy, but I think he'll like them.'
Nilesa, surprised, let her out and resealed the hatch. She walked away from him, glancing down the main corridor as she passed. Several dozen men were assembled in it. A technical team had half the panels off the walls; sparks flared from a tool. She could just see Sergeant Bothari's head on the far side of the crowd, and knew him to
