Captain Vorpatril's alliance

“Not especially, no.” Simon took in By’s harassed look and measured out a small drop of mercy. “You have some time to meditate upon it. Shiv can only have started to tackle the tunneling problem. They need to line up local equipment, perhaps local contacts‑if I were you I’d keep a close eye on Shiv and Star as the most likely to possess the technical expertise. The problem was always what to do with the tell‑tale dirt, and the longer the shaft, the bigger the pile…well.”

Ivan admitted reluctantly, “Tej drives everyone everywhere.”

“And isn’t talking to you, you said. That’s actually rather convenient, right now. At least you know it’s not personal.”

Ivan wasn’t so sure.

“Which means the Arquas are under the gun to solve their visa extension problem, or they’ll never make it to the engineering ones. I am so tempted to help with that…”

Afraid your game will be over too soon, Simon?

In any case, Simon had apparently decided that it was time for this chat to be over, for he slid the conversation into amenities, and then somehow, a few minutes later, Ivan found himself and By being amiably escorted to the door. Ivan, calculating how soon his mother was likely to be back, allowed the eviction without protest.

“That was reassuring,” said Byerly, as they settled themselves in Ivan’s two‑seater once more. “Illyan is on top of it. Might have known.”

Ivan’s lips twisted. “Eh…”

By glanced aside at him. “I didn’t notice anything addled about any of that. Did you?”

“No,” Ivan admitted. Addled isn’t exactly the problem, here. Where would Tej fall, if things played out the way Simon pictured‑or if they didn’t, for that matter, but in any case, if she was forced to take sides? If she and Ivan each were?

By buckled up in a pointed manner; Ivan aimed his car out of the garage and turned into the street, and said, “Where do you want me to drop you? Your flat? Or back to the hotel?”

“No, I shan’t put any more Arquas to the trouble of finding new circles to lead me in tonight.” By sighed. “My flat, I suppose.”

Ivan took the turn that would lead on to the shabby‑trendy parts of Old Town Vorbarr Sultana. By put his head back and closed his eyes, although, given the lack of any white‑knuckled grips anywhere, presumably not at Ivan’s driving, which was if not sedate was at least equally fatigued. After a few minutes, apropos some unguessable chain of thought, By remarked, “I don’t usually get attached to my surveillance subjects.”

“Considering your usual crowd, I can see why,” said Ivan.

“Mm,” said By, not disagreeing. And after another minute, “Ivan, you’ve had a lot of girlfriends‑”

Byerly Vorrutyer is about to ask me for relationship advice? Ivan didn’t know whether to be flattered or appalled. Or to distract his passenger with a few evasive lightflyer moves, somewhat impeded by being in a ground vehicle.

“‑seems like every time I saw you, you had a different one hanging on your arm.”

“They weren’t all girlfriends. Mamere always made me do a lot of diplomatic and social escort duty.” Actual real take‑to‑bed girlfriends had been less abundant, though Ivan wasn’t about to explain this to By.

“You made them all look like girlfriends.”

“Well, sure.”

“How did you keep them all happy?”

The light‑spangled night rain flickered by outside the canopy. The wet streets wanted background music, some soulful lament to urban loneliness…“You know,” and somehow, probably because of the damned rain, Ivan’s mouth went off on its own: “I’ve always wondered why nobody ever notices that lots and lots of girlfriends entail lots and lots of breakups.” Enough to learn all the road signs by heart, yeah.

By’s eyes opened; his brows climbed. “Huh. You never seemed to point up that part.”

“No.”

A lot of his troubles had seemed to start, come to think, with oblique or not‑so‑oblique pressure for a high Vor wedding, even from a couple of the women who were already married, which Ivan had naively thought would put a sock in the issue. He’d never had those troubles with Tej, hah. If he’d known how relaxing being married‑as opposed to getting married‑could be, he might have done this years ago, except then it wouldn’t have been with Tej, so it wouldn’t have been like this, now would it? He contemplated this paradox glumly.

By leaned back in his seat with a tired sigh. “Well, at least parting with Tej should be no challenge for you.”

Ivan could not, he supposed, stop his car in the middle of traffic and strangle an ImpSec agent, no matter how personally annoying the man was. Fortunately, By’s block came up before temptation overcame prudence. By bade him thanks and farewell with his usual boneless wave.

Ivan wondered whether Tej would be home yet. Or not. And then couldn’t decide whether to speed up or slow down, an irresolution that kept him tepidly at the speed limit all the way back to his building’s garage.