Captain Vorpatril's alliance

“True,” said Rish, reluctantly.

“But however you feel about ImpSec, I can pretty much guarantee that nobody’s rent‑a‑goons can get at you inside their HQ.”

“But surely this Captain Morozov will want to know things,” said Tej. “What should we tell him?”

Ivan Xav shrugged. “Everything. He’s even cleared to know about By, though I doubt he does‑not his department.”

“Even about the‑the wedding thing?”

He sighed. “I’ll tell him about that.”

When they exited into the busy bubble‑car station out by the shuttleport, Rish said, “I have to pee,” grabbed Tej, and towed her into the ladies’ lavatory. Vorpatril made frustrated gestures of protest, but stopped short of following them inside. They left him standing in the corridor alongside a couple of other males with glazed, waiting expressions.

It didn’t matter; there was only the one door, and no windows, Tej automatically noted as they entered. A woman dealing with a wailing infant, and another attempting to shepherd two hyperactive and not‑well‑trained toddlers through their ablutions, gave plenty of sound cover and guaranteed that no one was paying them the least attention.

Rish retreated to a corner and turned Tej around, strong blue hands gripping her shoulders. “Talk to me, Tej. You look like someone hit you on the head with a mallet, and you’re just waiting to fall down. You’re scaring me, sweetling.”

“Am I?” Tej blinked. “I sure didn’t see that blow coming. I wonder if he really thinks he married me?”

Rish shifted her head and eyed Tej narrowly, as if checking to see that her pupils were still the same size. “Do you think you really married him?”

“I have no idea. I guess the important thing is that everyone else seems to.” Tej took a deep breath. “And till we find out what all else this Lady Vorpatril business is good for, we’d likely better go along with it.”

Rish pursed her lips, nodded, and stood back, releasing her worried grip. “Point taken.” Her mouth tightened. “So what are we going to tell this Morozov fellow? Think, sweetling, think.”

Tej rubbed her forehead. “I’d be perfectly happy to feed everything we know about those House Prestene bastards to Barrayar, if only I could be sure they weren’t about to become new best friends afterward. Though if the Prestene syndicate is really on the other end of this smuggling scheme, I think the Barrayarans aren’t going to be too well‑disposed toward House Cordonah’s new management. I know even Dada and the Baronne took care how they crossed these Imperium crazies. It’s rumored that all of House Ryoval was taken down by a single ImpSec agent, after the old baron pissed Barrayar off somehow.”

Rish whistled. “Really?”

“That’s the tale Star told me, anyway. She got it from someone in House Fell. So I think…” Tej wished she could think. Her brain seemed to have turned to mush. “I think we should tell this Morozov almost everything. Bury him in details, so’s he won’t have either the time or the motivation to move on to the fast‑penta.”

“Ah.”

“Our story will be that the syndicate is after you as a flashy prize, and me as a baby enemy they want to strangle in the cradle.” Yes, that had seemed to work for the Byerly person. And besides, it was true. “Hold back only anything about where Amiri is. Anything about Amiri, come to think. And don’t volunteer anything about Star and Pidge. Or Grandmama.”

Rish nodded understanding.

They both made quick dashes for the stalls, returning to the station corridor before Vorpatril overcame his social conditioning and came in looking for them, although, by the glare he cast them, it had been a near thing.

“Crowded?” he inquired.

“Lots of little kids,” Tej said truthfully. “I think they must have eaten straight sugar for breakfast.” That was the best deal, yes. Truth.

Just not all of it.

To Ivan’s relief, Morozov was already waiting at the ImpSec Galactic Affairs reception desk when he guided the two women inside the lobby. Morozov’s eyes widened as Rish turned to face him, but then he managed a boffin‑y bow.

“Lapis Lazuli. A visit to ImpSec’s humble quarters by an artist of your caliber is quite an honor.” His lips parted in equal surprise as he took in Tej. “And, if I am not mistaken, one of the Misses Arqua as well! This is excellent, Vorpatril.”

“You’re mistaken,” said Ivan. “Or anyway, behind the times. Captain Morozov, may I present the new Lady Vorpatril.”

Morozov blinked. Three times. And rose to the challenge: “Congratulations to you both. Er…a recent happy event, was this?”

“About”‑Ivan glanced at the time on his wristcom, ouch – “an hour ago.” He drew breath. “But it’s all right and tight and legal, we had the groats and the oaths and the witnesses and everything. Which means she is now officially an Imperial Service officer’s dependent. And Rish is her, um, personal assistant. In my employ. Officially.”

“I see. I think…?” Morozov laced his hands together; Ivan wasn’t sure if that lip‑biting expression concealed dismay, or unholy glee.