Captain Vorpatril's alliance

Tej buckled the bell straps around her ankles, rose, and stamped. The bells sang back in a ragged chorus. “I’ll take Jet’s part,” she offered again. Keeping, somehow, the quaver out of her voice.

Rish rolled to her bare blue feet, kicked once in air, and took up her position. “Do your best.” She eyed Tej more closely. “Don’t worry, sweetling. I won’t abandon you on this benighted world. We’ll get out together.”

That’s not quite what I meant, Rish… Tej bit her lip, nodded, extended her arms, and bent her legs, taking up the complex rhythm at the hub of the wheel, heel‑and‑toe. The music and motion flowed up through her body and out her spiraling fingertips, as she turned to track her spinning partner around the circle’s rim.

Ivan encountered By in the lobby of his building, entering just ahead of him. “Hey, wait up,” he called, and By paused. Ivan shifted his dinner bag from hand to hand and asked, “You going up to see Rish?”

“We’re heading out for the evening, yes.”

“Good‑oh.”

They entered the up‑tube together. Ivan pictured himself demanding of By, What are your intentions toward my sister‑in‑law? in the best paterfamilias style, and winced. Trouble was, By might answer. But as they exited to the hallway outside Ivan’s flat, his steps slowed nonetheless. By stopped with him, looking his inquiry.

“About Rish. You’re not making her, like, fall in love with you or anything, are you? Because you could be reassigned or something, and have to drop her. And I don’t want to be stuck in a flat full of weeping, angry women, with no male to take it out on but me.”

By tilted his head in appreciation of this concern. “No, I seem to be on the case, at least until they decamp for Escobar. Has your, ah, non‑divorce affected the timetable on that?”

“I have no idea.”

“Have you asked?”

“Uh…no?”

“I see.”

By was dressed in casual garb, not evening wear; planning a night in, not a night out, apparently. Ivan went on in covert hope, “So, ah…any chance that you’ll invite her to move in with you? Save steps and all that. Or that she’ll decide to move in with you?”

By’s hooded eyes grew amused. “The topic has not come up.”

“But you could make it come up. Couldn’t you? S’true, I’d rather hug a snake, but there’s no accounting for tastes.”

“S‑s‑s‑she is amazingly flexible,” By agreed. “I expect she could crush my skull with her thighs alone. Very talented thighs. I could be in danger of my life every time we go to bed. Just think of the obituary.”

Ivan heroically resisted the straight line, not to mention the spinning visions this comment engendered. “You could make her happy just by getting her off my couch.” Or off on my couch, I suppose. Except it was possible By already had. Dammit, I want my furniture back.

By snorted. “Happy? God, no, I couldn’t make her happy. Not in a thousand years.”

Ivan’s brows rose in surprise. “I don’t get it. She seems tolerably amused by you. I mean, you’ve made her laugh. I’ve heard her.”

By waved a dismissive hand. “She won’t be happy till she’s reunited with her odd sibs. The other Jewels. They’re more than just a troupe or a team, or even a family. I suspect something gengineered.”

Ivan’s nose wrinkled. “Are you suggesting they’re some sort of Cetagandan post‑human group mind or, or something?”

“No, not that. Definitely not, by her account of some of their arguments. Something much more visceral. I suspect some sort of kinesthetic biofeedback in play. It’s not at all obvious when you see her in isolation. You have to see her with the others.”

“Uh, when did this happen?”

“I had ImpSec Galactic Affairs scrounge me some recordings of the Jewels’s performances. It’s…no, it’s not clear. But it becomes subtly apparent, if you watch them over enough, that the Jewels were sustaining each other, somehow. But Rish alone is…starving isn’t the word. I don’t know what is.” By had forgotten to be smarmy, as his eyes narrowed in memory and thought.

“So what’s the difference?”

By’s hand reached out and closed, as if trying to grasp something elusive. “Rish with the Jewels looks like a woman with a beating heart. Rish in exile looks like…a woman with a muscle in her chest that pumps blood.”

Ivan tried to unravel this. “Y’know…I haven’t the least idea what you’re on about, By.”

By rubbed his forehead and laughed shortly. “Yeah, neither do I. You should watch the vids sometime, though.”

“Is Tej in any of ’em?”

“No.”

“Ah.”

They walked on; Ivan coded open his door. A sound of bells and rhythmic thumping wafted out.

They entered to find Tej and Rish engaged in some sort of vigorous dance practice. Tej spared Ivan a flashing smile, as she turned and stomped. She seemed to dance with every part of her, from her toes to her face; the expressive movements of her arms reminded him, for a moment, of the quaddies. The cadences moved through her generous flesh as though her body danced with itself, joyously. Ivan’s lips parted.