“Are, uh, the House’s new masters less helpful to us, then?”
“Say rather, untested. And uncommunicative. Several data lines were lost during the shifts, which have not yet been replaced.”
Ivan squinted, trying to imagine what that last sentence would translate to if it weren’t in ImpSec Passive Voice. Trail of bodies was a phrase that rose to mind.
“It was not known if the late Baronne’s Jewels were captured, killed, or scattered in the takeover,” Morozov went on. “So I have a keen interest in any sightings, if perhaps academic at this late date. Just where did you see Lapis Lazuli?”
“We need to talk about that,” Ivan evaded, “but I’m out of time.” He glanced at his wristcom; it wasn’t a lie, oops. He scrambled up. “Thank you, Captain Morozov, you’ve been very helpful.”
“When can we continue?” said Morozov.
“Not this afternoon, I’m afraid; I’m bespoke.” Ivan picked his way over cartons to the cubicle door. “I’ll see what I can fit in.”
“Stop by any time,” Morozov invited. “Oh, and please convey my personal best wishes to your, er, stepfather, which I trust will find him much recovered.”
“Virtual stepfather, at most,” Ivan corrected hastily. “M’mother and Illyan haven’t bothered to get married yet, y’know.” He managed a somewhat wooden smile.
As he fled in disorder down the dingy corridor, it occurred to him that there could be another reason he was getting such an unusual degree of cooperation from the ImpSec old guard these days, and it had nothing to do with his association with Admiral Desplains. He shuddered and ran on.
* * *
Ivan headed for the door at day’s end with his brain jammed with everything from personnel promotion debates to surprise inspection schemes to the lurid history of House Cordonah, but mostly with urgent mulling of just where to stop for a take-away dinner that would most please Tej. If she’s still there. He was anxious to get home and find out. It was, therefore, no joy to see, out of the corner of his eye, a lieutenant from the front security desk waving frantically and hurrying to catch him. “Sirs! Wait!”
Too late to speed up and pretend not to have seen the fellow. Ivan and Admiral Desplains both paused to allow him to come up, slightly out of breath.
“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&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?”
“There was a scan for her work ID,” said Fano.
“Then it didn’t do her justice. She was a very eye-catching young woman, believe me.”
“And?” said Sulmona.
“And I’m a soldier a long way from home, all right? She was pretty, I was lonely, it seemed worth a try. I know you Komarrans don’t always think us Barrayarans are human, but we are.” He matched her frown. She didn’t drop her eyes, but she did rock back a bit; point taken.
“And then what happened?”
“She said no, and I went my way.”
“Just like that?” said Sulmona.
“I can take no for an answer if I have to. Someone else will say yes eventually.”
The pair exchanged another unreadable look. Fano prompted, “And then w
hat? Did you follow Sera Brindis to her flat?”
“No, I thought I’d stroll back to look at that lake, where they rent the boats, you know. Since it seemed I was to have time on my hands.” Wait, was that in the right direction? Well, he could feign to have been turned around. “And I ran into Sera Brindis again, coming the other way. A happy chance, I thought.”
“I thought you took no for an answer,” murmured Sulmona.
“Sure, but sometimes women change their minds. It never hurts to ask again.”
“And if they change their minds in the other direction?”
“Her prerogative. I’m not into that rough stuff, if that’s what you’re thinking.” And Ivan could see it was—well, they were cops, they had to have seen some ugly scenarios. “I prefer my bed-friends friendly, thanks.”
“And?” said Fano. Weariness was beginning to color the patience in his voice.
“So she invited me inside. I thought I’d got lucky, was all.” Ivan cleared his throat. “This is where it gets a trifle embarrassing, I’m afraid.” Did they know about the blue roommate? Well, they might, but Ivan decided that he wouldn’t. “I thought we were going to sit down for a drink, some get-to-know-you conversation, maybe dinner after all, all the civilized stuff, when suddenly she pulled out a stunner and shot me.”
“Were you trying to attack her?” said Fano, abruptly cold.
“No, dammit. Look. I know I’ve been a desk pilot for a while, but I did have basic training, once.” And the ImpSec refresher course on personal defense once a year, but that was a non-routine and dubious benefit of his other rank. No need to mention it here. “If I’d been trying to attack her, I’d have succeeded. She was only able to zap me because it came as a complete surprise. I’d thought things were going well.”
“And then what did you think?” said Sulmona dryly.
“Nothing. I was frigging unconscious. For a long time, I guess, because when I woke up, I was tied to a chair and the flat was dark. Seemed empty. I wasn’t sure if it was safe to yell out or not, so I just started working on trying to get loose.”
“Safe?” said Sulmona, in a disbelieving tone.
He didn’t have to play a total fool, Ivan decided. He fixed her with a frown. “If you two have worked at your jobs for any length of time, you have to have cleaned up a couple of cases of Barrayarans, especially in uniform, out in the domes who ran into Komarrans with old grudges. I didn’t know if I’d fallen into the hands of crazy people, or terrorists, or spies, or what. Or if I was about to be tortured or drugged or kidnapped or worse. So getting myself loose seemed a better bet than drawing attention.”
The pair’s return stares were tinged with enough embarrassment that Ivan was pretty sure he’d scored a hit. Develop this theme, then.
“I was just starting to make progress when these two guys showed up at the window—third-story window, mind you—and started cutting through it with a plasma arc. I didn’t figure this was exactly how Komarrans went visiting their friends, y’know? Especially at that hour. For all I knew, they’d come to collect me.”
“The perpetrators,” said Fano, “in their first testimony, stated that they were in process of returning the float pallet to the person they’d borrowed it from, and saw you by chance in passing. That you cried out frantically for help, and that’s why they broke in.”
“Ha,” said Ivan darkly. “Good story, but not true. They cut their way in before they ever saw me.” He hesitated. “First testimony? I hope you fast-penta’d those suckers.”
He’d actually neither hoped nor expected anything of the kind. Surely any kind of serious agent had to have undergone resistance treatment to the truth drug?
“Later,” said Fano. “A soon as we’d collated enough evidence and inconsistencies to legally permit us to conduct a non-voluntary penta-assisted interrogation.”
“What, they weren’t allergic? I mean, they seemed like pros to me. What little I saw of ’em.”
“Professional petty criminals in the domes don’t normally adopt such extreme military techniques,” said Fano. “Instead, they rely on a cell system. They never know who hired them, or why they were set to their task. Low tech, but effective enough, and very annoying. To us, that is.”
“I’ll bet,” Ivan commiserated. “So—were they after me?” And thank God he’d stuck as tightly to the truth as he could, so far.
Fano frowned, and admitted, “No. It seems they were hired to pick up Sera Brindis and her maidservant, and deliver them to a location where they would be handed off to yet another cell for transport. We haven’t been able to find out anything about this maidservant. Sera Brindis was the only resident listed in the flat. Did you see a second woman?”
Ivan shook his head. “Not before I got stunned.” He gave it a beat. “Nor after, for obvious reasons.”
“Did you stun the two men?” asked Fano.
“I was still tied to the damned chair, unfortunately. And blinded by the lights. I tried to con them into untying me. The shots seemed to come out of nowhere. I did hear footsteps behind me, running out the front door, but by the time I finally got free and was able to look around, nobody was there.”
“How many pairs of footsteps?”
“One, I thought, but I couldn’t swear to it. The whole night was like a damned farce, except I was the only one without a script. By then I was mainly interested in getting out of there before someone else came back and started in on any fun let’s-torture-the-Barrayaran games.”
Sulmona leaned forward and fiddled with her recorder. “We received an anonymous tip about the break-in, which led back to a data wall that none of our programs could penetrate. Happily, it seems, we now have a positive voice match.” Ivan’s own slurred voice began to sound: “…yeah, you should see, I’m down on the street watchin’ this right now…” Remorselessly, she let the call play all the way to its abrupt end. She added, “We also found a charge to your credit chit for a bubble-car ride from Crater Lake Platform to downtown Solstice, just a few minutes after the time-stamp on this call.” Because it never hurt a case to add a little redundancy, Ivan glumly supposed.
“Did you hear a woman scream?” asked Fano.
“Uh, well, no, not really. I just figured it would hurry up the response. I wasn’t sure how fast those two goons were going to wake up. And I didn’t think they should be let to go wandering off on their ownsome. Better the whole mess should be turned over to the proper authorities. That would be you. Which I did.”
“You know, Captain Vorpatril, both leaving the scene of a crime and making falsified emergency calls are against the law,” said Fano.
“Maybe I should’ve hung around, but I was going to be late for work. And I was still pretty shaken up.”
Fano gestured to the recorder. “Were you drunk?”
“I won’t deny I might have had a drink or two earlier.” He could, but he wasn’t going to—better if they thought he’d been a trifle alcohol-impaired, which they might well buy. He could see it played to their prejudices. “But have you ever had a heavy-stun hangover?”
Fano shook his head; Sulmona’s brows drew down, possibly in unwilling sympathy, about the first he’d got from her.
“Let me tell you, they’re downright ugly. Your head buzzes for hours, and your vision is messed up. Balance, too. It’s no wonder I sounded drunk.” And that for Admiral Desplains, and whoever else on Ivan’s own side that was going to be listening to this. Because there were limits to self-sacrifice, and this was all bad enough, damn Byerly.
Fano’s lips twisted. “And what at your work was more important than leaving a crime scene in which, to hear you tell it, you were a victim?”
Ivan drew himself up, letting the admiral’s high Vor aide-de-camp out for the first time. He, too, could deliver unpleasantness in a chilly tone. “A great deal of my work is highly classified, Ser Fano. I won’t be discussing it with you.”
Both Komarrans blinked.
Sulmona riposted, “Would you be wil
ling to repeat your testimony under fast-penta, Captain?”
Ivan leaned back, folding his hands, sure of his ground on this one. “It’s not up to me,” he replied easily. “You would have to apply to my commanding officer, Admiral Desplains, Chief of Operations, and then after that the request would have to be approved by ImpSec HQ in Vorbarr Sultana. By General Allegre personally, I believe.” Damned well knew, actually. “An ImpSec operative would have to sit in, administer the drug and the antagonist, and record everything. You would both have to be personally investigated and cleared by ImpSec first.” Ivan added kindly, “You’re welcome to apply, of course. I expect you could get an answer in about two weeks.” And he would be on his way back to Barrayar before then.
The detectives shot him twin looks of dislike. That was all right. Ivan didn’t exactly like them, either.
“Yes, but didn’t you even report this incident to your own security, Captain?” asked Fano.
Really disliked them. “I reported it in brief to my commanding officer.” True in a sense, but oh God, wasn’t Desplains ever going to fry him in the morning over that. “As I didn’t end up in the hospital or the morgue, and I wasn’t questioned, tortured, bugged, or even robbed, I have to classify it as a misadventure encountered on my own time. Bit of a mystery, true, but mysteries get turned over to ImpSec”—or originate from ImpSec—“which is, thank God, not my department. I’m Ops, and happy to be so. Every ImpSec officer I ever had to do with was twisty as hell, y’know?” Especially my relatives. “But when ImpSec decides what I’m supposed to think, I’m sure they’ll tell me.”
Fano said, unhopefully, “And would ImpSec be willing to share any findings with Solstice Dome Security?”
“You can apply,” said Ivan. He bit his lower lip to stop himself from baring his teeth.
Sulmona drummed her fingers on the tabletop. “We still have a missing woman on our hands. Or not on our hands. I don’t like it. If whoever was trying to kidnap her missed her, where is she?”
“At a guess, she probably pulled up stakes and went to hide somewhere else,” said Ivan. “It would seem the sensible thing, if someone was after you.”
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