Captain Vorpatril's alliance

“What is it, lieutenant?” inquired Desplains. He did a better job than Ivan of concealing his dismay at their impeded escape, only a faint ironic edge leaking into his resigned tone.

“Sir. Two Solstice Security people just turned up at the front desk, saying they want to interview Captain Vorpatril.”

Interview, not arrest, Ivan’s suddenly‑focused mind noted. Although he imagined any attempt by civilian dome authorities to arrest a Barrayaran officer from the midst Barrayaran HQ could be a tricky proposition, jurisdiction‑wise.

Desplains’s brows rose. “What’s this all about, Vorpatril? It can’t be the Imperial Service’s largest collection of parking violations, again‑you don’t have a vehicle here. And we’ve only been downside four days.”

“I don’t know, sir,” said Ivan, truthfully. Suspect was not the same thing as know, right?

“I suppose the fastest way to find out is to just talk to them. Well, go along, try to make them happy.” Unfeelingly, his boss waved Ivan away. “Tell me all about it in the morning.” Desplains made a swift strategic retreat, leaving Ivan as the sacrificial rear guard.

It could have been worse. Desplains could have wanted to sit in…Ivan sighed and trudged unwillingly after the too‑efficient lieutenant, who told him: “I put them in Conference Room Three, sir.”

There were a handful of such reception rooms off the HQ building lobby, holding pens for people HQ didn’t care to admit to its inner sanctums. Ivan expected that every one of them was monitored. Conference Room Three, the smallest, had approximately the ambiance and intimacy of a tax office waiting area, Ivan discovered as the lieutenant ushered him inside. He wondered if it was made that dismal on purpose, to encourage visitors not to linger.

“Captain Vorpatril, this is Detective Fano and Detective‑patroller Sulmona, Solstice Dome Security. I’ll just leave you to it, then, shall I? Detectives, please return to the front desk and sign out again when you’re finished.” The lieutenant, too, beat a retreat.

Fano was a stocky man, Sulmona a slim but fit‑looking woman. He was in civvies, she in uniform complete with such street gear as would be expected on a patroller’s belt, including a stunner holster and shock‑stick. Both were youngish but not young. Not grizzled veterans, but not rookies; born post‑Conquest, then, though perhaps with older relatives possessing unhappy memories. Sulmona’s left hand bore a wedding ring, Ivan noted automatically.

“Thank you for agreeing to see us, Captain,” said Fano formally, standing up. He gestured to a chair across the table from the pair. “Please, sit down.”

Taking psychological possession of the space, Fano was, in proper interrogation‑room style. Ivan let it pass and sat, granting them each a neutral nod. He had suffered through a course in counter‑interrogation techniques once, long ago. I suppose it will come back to me. “Sir, ma’am. What can I do for Dome Security?”

They exchanged a look; Fano began. “We’re following up on a peculiar B amp;E arrest‑that’s breaking and entering‑early this morning in the Crater Lake neighborhood.”

Dammit, how had this pair nailed him so fast? Don’t panic. You didn’t do anything wrong. Well, all right, he’d done several things wrong, starting with listening to Byerly Vorrutyer. But he didn’t think he’d done anything illegal. Yeah, I’m the victim, here. What he said out loud was, “Ah?”

“Oh,” put in Sulmona, pulling a vid pickup from her pocket and setting it in front of them, “do you mind if we record? It’s standard procedure in these investigations.”

Why not? I’m pretty sure my people are. Yes, and the transcript would be copied to Admiral Desplains first thing tomorrow morning, no doubt. Ouch. “Sure, go ahead,” said Ivan, trying for a tone of easy innocence. He offered a friendly smile to the detective‑patroller. She seemed to be immune to his charm.

Fano went on, “The flat that was broken into is listed as rented by a young woman named Nanja Brindis, lately moved to Solstice from Olbia Dome. Unfortunately, Sera Brindis is not to be found, either last night or today‑she didn’t report to her work this morning. We understand you had contact with the young woman earlier last evening. Would you care to describe it? In your own words.”

The better to hang myself. How much of the story did this pair already possess? They had obviously seen some scan of the credit chit he’d used at the shipping shop, and maybe talked to the coworker, and who knew what else. So he’d likely better stick as closely to the truth as possible, without betraying Byerly or Nanja‑Tej. Or the Imperium. Or himself, but it was pretty easy to see where he sat in that hierarchy, should a goat be required. He sighed, because he didn’t think the Komarrans would understand it if he bleated.

“Yes, well, I’d stopped in at the shop where she worked to ship a package home. It was closing time, so I offered to take her out for a drink or dinner.”

Sulmona frowned at him. “Why?”

“Er…haven’t you seen a picture of her yet?”