Captain Vorpatril's alliance

Raudsepp mused on, “One would think a notorious Vor womanizer would have a less drastic seduction technique.” Losing your touch? hung implied in Raudsepp’s eyebrow twitch.

Ivan wondered irately what pruney prole ImpSec analyst had him down in reports as a notorious Vor womanizer.

“In any case, did you learn any more about their intentions last night?” Raudsepp sat up, preparing to record Ivan’s snitch‑report.

General Allegre had said‑implied‑that Galactic Affairs‑Raudsepp had not formerly been in the need‑to‑know pool about Domestic‑Affairs Byerly, in the interest of preserving By’s valuable cover. By’s valuable cover, in Ivan’s view, was beginning to resemble a lace fig leaf. He’d wanted to ask, But what if they try to shoot each other? Well, Byerly wouldn’t shoot the uniformed Raudsepp, probably. Accidentally.

So had that apprising taken place yet, and this a mere triangulation? Bloody ImpSec. Ivan fell back on: “Simon Illyan was there. The Spook’s Spook. Can’t you ask him?”

Raudsepp was taken aback. “Oh, of course.” A daunted look came over his face. “I should not like to bother him in his retirement. His medical retirement. But certainly, no one’s observations could be keener.” Doubt colored his voice. “Once…”

So, that’s what dithering looks like on Raudsepp. Under other circumstances, Ivan would have found it mildly entertaining.

“If Chief Illyan had spotted anything critical, he would certainly have reported it. Though maybe not on my level…”

Simon might have, at that. But to whom? So why aren’t I in that need‑to‑know loop? I bloody need to know! “Ask around,” Ivan suggested, shrugging. “Ah, excuse me. Admiral Desplains is paging me. Gotta go.”

Raudsepp, reluctantly, parted with him for now. That line about Desplains would have been a good lie for cutting himself loose, Ivan thought, if only it had been a lie. Wasted for now, but perhaps he could file it for future reference. He turned to hastily muster the requested files. Another, God spare Ops, interdepartmental meeting in forty minutes. Wormhole jump station Logistics versus Budget amp; Accounting with spreadsheets at twenty paces at dawn, aiming to kill unless someone‑and Ivan knew just what someone would be expected to pitch in‑could persuade them to delope. He rose to report to the inner office.

Tej and Rish arrived, yawning, at the Arqua hotel suite to find everyone else up betimes. Even, it appeared, Byerly, just exiting in tow of Jet, who had drafted him for a local guide. By spared Rish a grimace of a smile; she spared him a grimace of one back. Tej thought, Why don’t you two just kiss each other and get it over with? They so obviously wished to. But they exchanged greetings and farewells in nearly the same breaths, and parted at the lift tubes both looking back over their shoulders in dissatisfied ways.

Inside the suite‑should she start thinking of it as House Cordonah HQ in Exile? – everyone seemed to be pursuing a different project at a different comconsole terminal, Star and Pearl at one, Pidge and Em at another, Dada at yet a third. Grandmama sat in the center and regarded it all benignly.

The Baronne greeted her directly with “Tej! Do I understand correctly that you can drive in Vorbarr Sultana?”

“Yes…?”

“Excellent. We will have work for you shortly. Don’t run off. Rish, Star needs you.”

Rish, with another grimace, went off to join the little subcommittee at Star’s terminal in the next room.

“But I don’t have a vehicle.” Ivan had taken his sporty groundcar to work, and besides, it would only hold one other Arqua at a time. Although that might not be a disadvantage.

“Then you can also take charge of obtaining rentals as needed. Good, I had been wondering what to do with you.”

As if Tej were a spare puzzle piece that didn’t fit in anywhere, perhaps accidentally included from another set. And here came another. Amiri wandered in with a coffee cup in his hand, looking vaguely at a loss, but he brightened when he saw Tej.

“Is there more of that?” asked Tej, nodding at the coffee.

“Yes, right this way…” He guided her to the credenza.

“What’s Jet up to? I saw him going out with By.” She poured, added cream, and drank. Mere hotel coffee, but the cream had that extraordinary mouth‑filling taste that told of a real organic origin, not from a biovat like Station dairy products. Having now seen pictures of the organic origin, Tej wasn’t sure she wanted to think too closely about it, but she had to admit that the result was amazing.

“Decoy. Sort of. Whichever of us Vorrutyer is with, or who is with Vorrutyer, is supposed to switch to decoy mode. With eleven of us, Dada figures we can keep him occupied. What was Rish thinking, to pick him up?”

Tej, remembering the exchange of scents at that first historic meeting in Ivan’s Komarr flat, wasn’t sure that thinking had had as much to do with it as either Byerly or Rish would likely claim. “He found us first, really. But it was a different situation then. We were both looking for cover.”