Captain Vorpatril's alliance

“Signal. If he’d planned to go after you about the local issues‑including that damned Mycoborer‑he’d have come dressed in his Vorbarra House black‑and‑silver. If he meant to crush you for what you did to his ImpSec headquarters, he’d be in his Service dress greens. But he’s wearing his politician‑suit, instead. That means he wants something he doesn’t already have. That means there may be the offer of what you might call a deal, depending. If you don’t waste his time, and if you don’t piss him off.”

“How does one piss him off?” asked Shiv, eyes narrowing.

“Well, wasting his time would be a good way to start.”

“And how can you tell?” asked Tej, with an anxious glance past his shoulder at the podium. “If he’s pissed off, I mean.”

“Um…” Ivan hesitated. “You all probably can’t. But ask me.”

He backed away, to give the Arquas one last chance to confer privately. To his intense relief, Shiv turned and stated, “House Cordonah chooses to abide by the authority of this Star Chamber.”

Lady Alys didn’t say a word, but her hand pressed to her lips looked to Ivan like hope rewarded. Which made him really wonder what all those all‑senior‑female confabs among Moira, Udine, and Alys had covered, these past few days.

The secretary glanced at a signal from his wristcom, then rose to go to the chamber door and receive from the majordomo a new delegation of men. Ivan recognized them all.

Duv Galeni was wearing his dress greens, all the polished Imperial officer this morning; General Allegre likewise, as was Colonel Otto, too secure in his expertise to be daunted by his surroundings, and entirely mud‑free. Equally secure in his expertise, not to mention his ego, was Dr. Vaughn Weddell from the Imperial Science Institute, one of their major bio‑boffins‑molecular, xeno, genetic, all of the above. He was followed by I.S. I Senior Administrator Susan Allegre, possibly there as his handler, as he usually needed one, possibly to track and gate any other demands on the Institute that might emerge this morning; at any rate, when they were directed to seats, she went with Weddell and not her husband.

When the room had settled once more, Gregor continued, “There are two possible approaches to solving a dilemma, in justice or elsewhere; begin with the facts, and follow out their logic where it leads one, or begin with the desired outcome, and reason backward to the necessary steps to achieve it. We shall see if it is possible to do both, and meet in the middle. To begin at the beginning, with some anchoring facts‑Commodore Galeni, were you able to find out how the information about the Cetagandan bunker and its contents were first lost to ImpSec? And the source of Sergeant Abelard and his bomb? We know his fate.”

“Yes, sire. I made considerable progress on both questions yesterday and last night.”

Since his last report, in other words, so some of this was going to be new to Gregor as well. A wave of the emperor’s hand directed Duv to the front; Gregor leaned on the podium, and Duv took up a practiced lecturer’s stance beside the comconsole table. His eye took in his audience almost as curiously as his audience’s eyes took in him.

“In examining what documents and records remain from the construction of ImpSec Headquarters, almost eighty years ago, I was able to trace the officer who signed off on the bunker inspection, a Captain Geo Pharos. He was ImpSec: he had as his listed assistant a sergeant of engineers, Vlad Norman. One month later, both men, along with three civilian employees, were killed in that on‑site construction accident where, according to the subsequent engineering reports, two floors in progress collapsed due to incorrect‑to‑spec sizing and improper installation of the bracing connectors. Buggered to fit, was the, er, engineering term underlined in the holograph report. Twice.”

In the third row, Colonel Otto, brows rising with keen interest, nodded; Galeni cast him an acknowledging sort of analyst’s salute.

Galeni continued, “For which unauthorized shortcut Emperor Yuri, on his architect’s recommendation, had the construction boss hanged, and bracing on the girders and connectors throughout triply reinforced, but that’s another tale.

“Ah, those were the days,” muttered Otto; Ivan couldn’t tell if it was with irony or approval.