Captain Vorpatril's alliance

The chamber grew really quiet when everyone stopped talking. Tej was half‑tempted to start another argument just to drive back the heavy silence. Instead, she and Ivan Xav followed Grandmama back downstairs, Tej because she hadn’t seen that level yet, Ivan Xav evidently with some notion of sharing his light to improve the general visibility down there, or thinking that one wasn’t enough. Or just to keep an eye out for the next emergency.

“As long as we don’t run short of lights before we run out of air,” he muttered.

“I suppose the ideal would be to have them both run out together,” Tej mused.

“I’d rather have the light last longer.”

Tej decided not to try to argue with the illogic of this. It wasn’t as if they had a choice anyway.

The room below was similar to the one above, except for a few separated office cubicles on one end. Grandmama commenced trying cabinets and former freezers once more.

“Something special you’re looking for, Lady ghem Estif?” Ivan Xav inquired politely. “Can we help?”

She waved away the suggestion. “Just…memories, so far. With which you cannot aid me, I’m afraid, Captain.”

Ivan Xav shifted a few crates into a makeshift sort of sofa; he and Tej sat, and he eased back and put his arm around her. She leaned into him, wondering how many tens‑of‑millions‑worth in anybody’s currency they were sitting on‑for that much money, it should have been more comfortable. The old lab was cool, not cold, the steady temperature of deep underground, and not especially clammy, but his warmth was welcome nonetheless. For some reason she was put in mind of their first night back on Komarr, not‑quite‑cuddling on his couch and watching the vid of the unexpectedly graceful legless dancers in free fall. She’d been more afraid then than she was now. Strange.

“Ah!” said Grandmama from the other side of the room. “Filters!” Clutching her prize, she made her way back up the stairs.

“There’s a help,” Tej said. “At least we’ll have something to drink.”

“But then we’ll have to piss,” said Ivan Xav. “I suppose we can go out in the tunnel. Pretend we’re camping, or on maneuvers.”

“Or we might find some pots in here.”

A smile moved his lips for the first time since the near‑fire. “Priceless porcelain vases from the Time‑of‑Isolation, perhaps? Did they make porcelain back them? Not sure. Or carved jadeite bowls, those were popular once, I think. Worth thousands, now. Hell, maybe some ghem‑general collected old Barrayaran Imperial chamber pots. I know they had those, seen ’em in the Residence. For all I know, still used by the more conservative Vorish guests.”

A little laugh puffed her lips.

It was quiet for a time. “Now what?” she said after a while, wondering if it would help any to breathe less deeply. Likely not.

“Now what what?” He sounded, if not sleepy, very tired.

She was exhausted, she realized. What time was it? So late it was early, it felt like. Some cusp of night. “What did you do the last time you were stuck in a hole like this? To pass the time?”

“It wasn’t a hole like this. It was a lot darker. And smaller. And wetter. Though air was not an issue. This is practically a palace, by comparison.”

“Still.”

“Well. First there was a lot of screaming. And pounding on the walls. And more screaming.”

“I don’t think that would help, here.”

“It didn’t help there, either. Screaming back at death doesn’t help. Pounding on the walls till your hands bleed…doesn’t help.”

She captured one now, and stroked it till it unclenched, releasing the memory. “What does help?”

“Well, Miles. Eventually. Though I note that he’s on another planet right now. Mind you, he wasn’t much help‑the first thing he wanted me to do was hide from the bad guys by going back down in that bloody hole.”

“Did you?”

“Well, yes.”

“Why?”

“It…was the right thing to do. At the time. It all worked out, anyway.”

“And then?”

“Huh?”

“You said first. What was next?”

“Oh. When I was still trapped. I actually got, um, a little strange after a while. I tried to sing myself all the old Imperial scout camp songs that I could remember, from when I was a spotty whelp. And then the rude versions. Except I couldn’t remember enough of them, and then I ran out.” He added after a minute, “But then, I was alone.” And after another minute, “Don’t take this the wrong way or anything, but I kinda wish I was alone again. And you…back in our bed, maybe. Sleeping dreamlessly.”

She returned his apologetic hug. “Same to you.”

“Let’s be sensible and wish for both of us there, while we’re wishing. I mean, it’s not like wishes are rationed.”

“Good point.” Except…she was glad he wasn’t alone to face this unnerving reminder of what sounded, despite his making light of it, like the most terrifying hours of his younger life. It was not an erotic moment; imminent death by suffocation was a bit of a mood‑killer. But it was good to just sit, not going anywhere, cuddling contentedly.

“Tej…” he said, and his voice was oddly uncertain. “There’s a question I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while.”