Captain Vorpatril's alliance

This held the tableau, if only in morbid curiosity, long enough for him to run back into the kitchenette and grab the instant groats from the countertop, the large economy‑size box that he’d purchased yesterday evening. He ran back into his living room and brandished it. “This’ll do the job!”

“You’re going to throw cereal at them?” asked Rish, perplexed.

“Or shall we all sit down and have a hearty Barrayaran breakfast together while the police break in?” asked By, in an all‑too‑similar tone. But both stunners drooped.

Shrugging off the sarcasms, and dear God hadn’t he had enough practice at that in his life, Ivan drew a long breath. “Tej. Will you marry me?”

“ What? ” she said. It wasn’t a thrilled sort of what? either, that ought to greet such a proposal, more of a have‑you‑lost‑your‑mind? what. Ivan cringed.

“No, this’ll work! A woman who marries a Barrayaran subject automatically becomes a Barrayaran subject. It’s one of those fundamental oaths that underlie all other oaths, biology before politics, so to speak. From the moment we finish speaking, Immigration won’t be able to arrest you. And the dome cops won’t be able to arrest me, either.” What he was going to do about Desplains, Ivan was less sure. His wristcom was still thinly chiming in its exile, cold and lonely and far off. Ivan ripped open the box and began dancing sock‑foot through the living room, dribbling out a circle of cereal on the carpet.

“Don’t we have to go somewhere and register it, even for a simple civil match?” asked Tej. “We’d never make it to wherever! They’ll seize us as soon as we go out the door!”

“But not,” said Rish blackly, “the other door.” By braced his back harder against the latch, though he still stared, confounded, at the growing circle. His eyes were as wide as Ivan had ever seen them.

“No, that’s the beauty of it!” Ivan explained. “In Barrayaran law, the couple marry themselves. It’s a Time of Isolation thing, you wouldn’t understand. Your breath is your bond. You each prop up your Second‑your witness‑on the edge, you step into the circle, you speak your oaths, you step out, it’s done. The core oaths are really simple, though people gussy them up with all kinds of additions to stretch the ceremony out, God knows why, it’s usually racking enough.” He appealed for support. “Tell them I’m right, Byerly!”

“Actually”‑By coughed, swallowed, found his voice‑“he is. About the legalities, anyway.”

“I can use my military dependent travel chits to get you back to Barrayar,” Ivan went on. “Five jumps further away from your pursuers, and besides, once you’re married to me, you’ll have ImpSec totally on your side because, um, because. This’ll buy time. And as soon as you’ve figured out what you really want to do, we can go get a divorce in the Count’s Court. Not quite as easy as getting married‑my Betan aunt thinks it should be t’other way around‑but Count Falco’s an old friend of Mamere’s. Ten minutes, in and out, I swear! And you’ll both be on your way.”

“On our way where?” asked Rish, sounding confused.

“I don’t know, somewhere! I can’t think of everything all at once, you know!”

“Oh, so not a permanent – but I don’t know your oaths,” said Tej faintly, staring at him in a kind of hypnotized fascination as he stood before her waving the emptied box in time with his urgent persuasion.

“That’s all right, I have them memorized. I must have been dragged to about a thousand high Vor weddings in the past decade. I could probably recite them in my sleep. Or my nightmares. We won’t tell the dome cops about the divorce, of course. None of their business.”

Tej glanced toward the balcony. Toward him. Toward the balcony. Toward him. Why is this a hard choice?

From the hallway, a teeth‑gritting mechanical whine began, as of someone cutting through an airseal door.

“You can’t tell me you’d rather jump off a twenty‑story building and smash in your skull than marry me,” Ivan went on desperately. “I am not a fate worse than death, dammit! Or at least not worse than that death, good God!”

“But what about Rish?” asked Tej. Her chin came up. “You can’t marry us both…can you?”

“Uh.” said Ivan. He cast a beseeching look at By, who held up his hand as if to fend off an attacking mini‑drone.

“No,” said Rish, coolly.

“ Thank you,” said By. His expression grew inward for a moment. “I think…”

“I’ll, I’ll, I’ll…hire you for something, after,” said Ivan. “Lady’s maid? Lots of Vor women have them. M’mother does, I know. At that point, you’ll be properly employed by a Barrayaran subject, a Vor subject, and we can fudge it with Immigration later. From a safe distance.”

“Then who will protect us from ImpSec?” said Rish.

“I will,” Ivan promised recklessly. “I can call in some favors. And if not, I know people who can. Starting with m’mother’s gentleman friend, if I have to. Or maybe as a last resort.” Definitely as a last resort. “Can’t I, By?”