The Vor Game

steady himself, but he managed to block the doorway so the guards and Metzov led the way, himself second, and Elena, arm-in-arm with Oser, followed last. 'Come, love, come,' he heard Elena intone behind him, like a woman coaxing a cat to her lap.

It was the longest short walk he'd ever taken. He dropped back to growl out of the corner of his mouth to Elena. 'All right, we get to the brig, it will be stocked with Oser's finest. What then?'

She bit her lip. 'Don't know.'

'That's what I was afraid of. Turn right here.' They swung around the next corner.

A guard looked back over his shoulder. 'Sir?'

'Carry on, boys,' Miles called. 'When you've got that spy locked up, report back to us at the Admiral's cabin.'

'Very good, sir.'

'Keep walking,' breathed Miles. 'Keep smiling. . . .'

The guards' footsteps faded. 'Where now?' asked Elena. Oser stumbled. 'This is untenable.'

'Admiral's cabin, why not?' Miles decided. His grin was fixed and fey. Elena's inspired mutinous gesture had given him the best break of the day. He had the momentum now. He wouldn't stop till he was brought down bodily. His head spun with the unutterable relief of at last getting the shifting, writhing, chittering might-be-might-be-might-be nailed to a fixed is. This time is now. The word is go.

Maybe. If.

They passed a few Oseran techs. Oser was sort of nodding, Miles hoped it would pass as casual acknowledgment of their salutes. Nobody turned and cried Hey!, anyway. Two levels and another turn brought them to the well-remembered corridors of officer's country. They passed the Captain's cabin (God, he'd have to deal with Auson, and soon); Oser's palm, pressed by Elena against the lock, admitted them to the quarters Oser had made his flag office. When the door slipped shut behind them Miles realized he'd been holding his breath.

'We're in it now,' said Elena, sagging for a moment with her back to the door. 'You going to run out on us again?'

'Not this time,' Miles replied grimly. 'You may have noticed one item I didn't bring up for discussion, down in sickbay.'

'Gregor.'

'Just so. Cavilo holds him hostage aboard her flagship right now.' Elena's neck bent in dismay. 'She means to sell him to the Cetagandans for a bonus, then?'

'No. Weirder than that. She means to marry him.' Elena's lip curled in astonishment. 'What? Miles, there's no way she could have got such an impossible notion in her head, unless—'

'Unless Gregor planted it. Which, I believe, he did. Watered and fertilized it, too. What I don't know is whether he was serious, or playing for time. She was very careful to keep us separated. You knew Gregor almost as well as I do. What do you think?'

'It's hard to imagine Gregor love-struck to idiocy. He was always . . . rather quiet. Almost, well, undersexed. Compared to, say, Ivan.'

'I'm not sure that's a fair comparison.'

'No, you're right. Well, compared to you, then.'

Miles wondered just how to take that. 'Gregor never had much in the way of opportunities, when we were younger. I mean, no privacy. Security always in his back pocket. That . . . that can inhibit a man, unless he's a bit of an exhibitionist.'

Her hand turned, as if measuring out Gregor's smooth gripless surface. 'He was not that.'

'Certainly Cavilo must be taking care to present only her most attractive side.'

Elena licked her lips in thought. 'Is she pretty?'

'Yeah, if you happen to like blonde power-mad homicidal maniacs, I suppose she could be quite overwhelming.' His hand closed, the texture of Cavilo's pelted hair remembered like an itch on his palm. He rubbed it on his trouser seam.

Elena brightened slightly. 'Ah. You don't like her.'

Miles gazed up at Elena's Valkyrie face. 'She's too short for my taste.'

Elena grinned. 'That, I believe.' She guided the shambling Oser to a chair and sat him down. 'We're going to have to tie him up soon. Or something.'

The comm buzzed. Miles went to Oser's desk console to answer it. 'Yes?' he said in his calmest bored voice.

'Corporal Meddis here, sir. We've put the Vervani agent in Cell Nine.'

'Thank you, Corporal. Ah . . .'It was worth a try, 'We still have some fast-penta left. Would you two please bring Captain Tung up here for questioning?'

Beyond range of the vid pick-up, Elena's dark brows rose in hope.

'Tung, sir?' The guard's voice was doubtful. 'Uh, may I add a couple of reinforcements to my squad, then?'

'Sure . . . see if Sergeant Chodak's around, he may have some people up for extra duties. In fact, isn't he on the extra-duty roster himself?' He glanced up to see Elena hold up her thumb and forefinger in an O.

'I think so, sir.'

'Fine, whatever. Carry on. Naismith out.' He keyed off the comm and stared at it, as if it had transmuted into Aladdin's lamp. 'I don't think I'm destined to die today. I must be being saved for day after tomorrow.'

'You think?'

'Oh, yes. I'll have a much bigger, more public and spectacular chance to blow it all away then. Be able to take thousands more lives down with me.'

'Don't you fall into one of your stupid funks now, you haven't got time for it.' She rapped the hypospray smartly across his knuckles. 'You've got to think us out of this hole.'

'Yes, ma'am,' Miles said meekly, rubbing his hand. Whatever happened to 'my lord'? No respect, none. . . . But he was strangely comforted. 'By the way, when Oser arrested Tung for arranging my getaway, why didn't he go on to take you and Arde and Chodak, and the rest of your cadre?'

'He didn't arrest Tung for that. At least, I don't think so. He was baiting Tung, which is his habit, they were both on the bridge at the same time—that was unusual—and Tung finally lost his temper and tried to deck him. Did deck him, I heard, and was part way to strangling him when security pulled him off.'

'It had nothing to do with us, then?' That was a relief.

'I'm . . . not sure. I wasn't there. It might have been an emergency diversion, to get Oser's attention away from making just that connection.' Elena nodded to the still-blandly-smiling Oser. 'And now?'

'Leave him loose, till Tung is delivered. We're all just happy allies here.' Miles grimaced. 'But for the love of God don't let anybody try to talk to him.'

The door comm buzzed. Elena went to stand behind Oser's chair with one hand on his shoulder, trying to look as allied as possible. Miles went to the door and keyed the lock. The door slid open.

Six nervous squadmen surrounded a hostile-looking Ky Tung. Tung wore prisoner's bright yellow pajamas, and radiated malice like a small pre-nova sun. His teeth clenched in utter confusion when he saw Miles.

'Ah, thank you, Corporal,' said Miles. 'We will be having a little informal staff conference after this interrogation. I'd appreciate it if you and your squad would stand guard out here. And in case Captain Tung gets violent again, we'd better have—oh, Sergeant Chodak and a couple of your people inside.' He emphasized the your with no change of voice, but only a direct look into Chodak's eyes.

Chodak made the catch. 'Yes, sir. You, Private, come with me.'

I'm promoting you to lieutenant, Miles thought, and stood aside to let the sergeant and his chosen man guide Tung within. Oser, looking cheerful, was quite clearly visible to the squad for a moment before the door hissed closed again.

Oser was clearly visible to Tung, too. Tung shrugged off his guards and stalked toward the admiral. 'What now, you son-of-a-bitch, do you think you—' Tung paused, as Oser continued to smile dimly up at him. 'What's wrong with him?'

'Nothing,' shrugged Elena. 'I think that dose of fast-penta made a real improvement in his personality. Too