Captain Vorpatril's Alliance (55 page)

“But,” By sputtered, “if she’s still in, uh, if they’re in there—”

“Then we’ll find out in a couple of minutes, without having to send a second rescue team to rescue the first. Lady ghem Estif thinks the tunnels are very unstable, after the explosion and the immersion.”

By stood and jittered a moment, then wheeled about and made a quick head-count of people in the chamber. He had to start over at least once, both lips and fingers moving. “Then all the Arquas—and you, Ivan—are accounted for except Rish and Jet? And who are the three spares?”

Imola and his brace of goons were just waking up, groggy and disoriented.

“Ser Vigo Imola,” Tej put in, “a very bad man whom ImpSec should arrest at once, and his two unfortunate employees. At least, I’d think he was a bad boss. I bet they will, too. And that’s not his real name.”

“Oh. Good. We were looking for him.”

By went to consult briefly with the first soldier, who had gathered all the Arquas together and was inquiring in a not-unfriendly military bellow, “All right, to start with, are there any medical emergencies here…?”

When By came back, Ivan Xav asked, “So, while we’ve been sitting around in the treasury all night contemplating the true nature of wealth, what have you been doing?”

“Going mad in white linen, pretty much. By midnight, when I realized that all my surveillance subjects, plus you, had simultaneously vanished, I knew something was up. When the first garbled news came through of someone trying to incompetently bomb ImpSec, I didn’t connect it instantly. Because, you know, I’d thought Simon and Shiv had a pretty
friendly
rivalry going, till then. Also, I thought Shiv would have done a better job.”

“Probably,” allowed Ivan Xav.

“It had started when an ImpSec ground patrol went to check out some excess energy signals coming from that garage on the next block, and they surprised a quartet of thugs dragging an unconscious woman into a van. Municipal Guard work, but, you know, Allegre’s boys don’t mind a little live-fire practice on a dull night. Plus—one told me later—there was a chance she might be grateful. They took down two of the thugs, but the other two disappeared into your tunnel, and the ImpSec patrol chased them in. There was an exchange of stunner fire—”

“And then the surprise,” said Ivan Xav. “So
ImpSec
set off the bomb!”

“It would be hard to calculate whose fire did it,” said By, a bit primly, “the scene of the crime being presently buried under some ungodly number of tons of mud. But someone’s energy beam apparently intersected the old explosive. At
this
point, the flare went up big-time. One of the patrollers and one of the thugs had to be dug out—”

“Was anyone seriously hurt?” Tej interrupted.

“Both, but not critically. It really wasn’t at all clear what was going on for a couple of hours, till the medics finally got Star waked up. Then, of course, all hell broke loose. Especially after some fool—somebody finally thought to call and wake up your mother and Simon.”

“Ah,” said Ivan Xav, uneasily.

 
“Star swore there would be survivors in the bunker, even though the sensors were picking up nothing from it. The rest of the night was setting up the engineering, as soon as the search-and-rescue boys figured out it would be impossible to go in from the garage end. It’s a real circus up there.”

Ivan Xav glanced upward, his lips twisting. He walked over to the first soldier and advised him, “Let your command post know to treat this as a Class Two Biohazard Area. At least.”

The soldier wheeled. “And you are…oh. Captain Vorpatril. Yes, sir.” He spoke into his audio pickup.

The engineering tech crouched at his control panel, overhearing this, stopped inhaling, but, after a minute, gave up and continued his task.

Coming back, Ivan Xav said, “I’d want to dub it a Class Five, myself; but my grandmother-in-law would probably correct me. But that should discourage too many tourists till someone can get the appraisers down here for inventory. This place is going to need guards, and guards on the guards.”

“Well, they’ve certainly come to the right place…” By mused. “Is there really a fortune down here, or was Star exaggerating for fear we might not dig you out?”

For answer, Ivan Xav took him over and showed him the box of seal-daggers, in which he seemed to have taken a possessive interest; Byerly sobered considerably. “And that was just the first crate we opened,” said Ivan Xav. “You should see some of the rest. Not to mention the half ton or whatever it is of Occupation gold.”

Byerly, looking spooked, stared out over the sea of crates, then went aside and spoke into
his
audio pickup.

Tej went back to hover over the engineering tech, hovering over his control panel, so was the first to hear him say, “
Good girl
, Rover!” He looked up with a grin that made him suddenly look his real age—well, no, he probably wasn’t fourteen—despite his military garb. “Found ’em. They’re following Rover home now.”

She and Byerly both leaned through the door, watching anxiously, as a bright light appeared in the throat of the tunnel. Scrambling after it, two exhausted, muddy, chilled figures…

Byerly reached out and dragged Rish over the threshold, and was suddenly plastered all over with lithe blue woman, a somewhat darker shade than usual. “You rescued us!” Rish cried, a view that unfairly left out the rest of the army that seemed to be involved, but which Byerly did not bother to correct. Jet stumbled into a welcoming committee of Arquas, and it was
several minutes
before the critique began.

“We were just working on the dirt pile,” Rish told them all, “when we saw lights coming down the tunnel that weren’t ours. We retreated all the way back to the storm sewer, then ducked up the biggest blind alley. There was a ruckus down on the other end, shouts and stunner fire, and we drew back—just in time, I think—we were both near-deaf for an hour, after the blast. When we looked, the entry end was collapsed, and the other was already filling with water. We retreated…and kept retreating…and the water kept rising. Then our cold lights gave out—”

Ivan Xav, listening, shuddered in vicarious horror, then went over and gave her a quite spontaneous and perhaps not altogether appreciated hug.

“Uh, thanks, Ivan Xav,” Rish said, extracting herself and giving him a bemused stare; she went on with her narrative. “We were down to this little air pocket, when this weird noise and vibration started. It went on forever, starting and stopping. Then it was like someone pulled the plug on the drain. The water went down…we followed it. We were trying to decide whether to attempt to wade the tunnel when the lovely robot probe found us.” She smiled at the engineering tech, who smiled back a bit uncertainly. Beautiful blue-and-gold ladies with pointed ears were not in his prior experience, Tej guessed, nor very many other ladies of any hue. Byerly, who certainly did not share this deficiency, took Rish’s cold hand and rubbed it.

In any case, when the medical evacuation floater arrived—a small one, to fit through the roof hole—Rish and Jet were sent up in the first load. Imola, Inc. were sent up next, each individually with an armed guard with him. The Baronne and Grandmama followed, then Dada and Imiri, then Pidge and Em. Pearl went next, Byerly joining her to keep an eye on his subjects; Tej waited to go with Ivan Xav.

They watched Pearl and By’s floater rise. “You know,” he said, in an oddly faraway voice, “the
other
thing I wanted to do was take you dancing. We’d never got to it. Thought about that, last night. All the things we’d never got to do, yet.”

Years of things.
She began to suspect they would never run out. “I would like that.” Their hands found each other. “I’d like that a lot.”

“It’s a deal, then.” His grip tightened.

When the floater came back, he helped her into it with all the panache of a Vor lord of old handing his fine Time-of-Isolation lady into his carriage.
Lady Vorpatril. I could get used to that…

*
 
*
 
*

The med-evac floater was little more than a glorified stretcher, designed to hold one patient lying down but, in a pinch, two sitting up, plus its operator in the control saddle. Ivan, sitting cross-legged opposite Tej, stared through the canopy as they angled out the lab roof and ascended through the new access well, which was shaped like a narrow cone, widening at the top. More engineers on floaters were spraying some kind of fixative on the walls to stabilize the dirt, as they rose past.

Circus
was an understatement, Ivan realized with a sinking heart as they cleared the lip of the well and briefly gathered more height. The new hole was dug down through what had been the lower end of the little park; the opposite side was now occupied by a conical mountain of what seemed, inexplicably, twice as much dirt, spilling over the park boundaries, the sidewalks, and, on two sides, into the streets beyond, which were blocked with barricades; municipal guards were rerouting traffic, fortunately still sparse on this early weekend morning. The pavement shone with a wet gleam, but it had finally stopped raining.

Heavy military engineering equipment was parked seemingly at random all over the place; soldiers hurried about, or stood and gawked. Portable floodlights on stands, not yet turned off in the pale dawn, shone everywhere. A command post under a temporary tarp roof was set up just beyond the corner of the ex-park, overlooking the excavation and blocking more street. Several medical ground-vans waited beyond it, their emergency lights blinking in a thumb-twiddling sort of way. Above, security vehicles circled; out beyond them, what Ivan guessed were news aircars also circled, telephotos no doubt trained on the bizarre scene.

Even as he watched, a biohazards team arrived, half suited-up, along with a group of older and less-fit fellows, a couple of whom Ivan recognized as senior functionaries from the Imperial Accounting Office, looking a bit out of place on this active, outdoor site. They all went to argue precedence with the engineers.

Beyond its walls and courtyard, the looming ImpSec building overlooked it all. In addition to an increased complement of patrollers at the gate on this side, quite a few officers with, Ivan suspected, no actual reason to be there sat on the upper steps or lingered outside the walls, watching the show. Ivan spotted one companionably sharing a breakfast rat bar with his fellow before the floater descended between the command post and the waiting med-vans.

When the canopy opened, Ivan helped Tej out and waved off a medtech trying to descend on them. When he turned toward the command post, he realized that might have been a premature gesture; a little tactical malingering could have been a better ploy.

A mob of people were approaching. Mamere and Simon, who was looking very gray and strained, led the wave, but Ivan spotted General Allegre and Commodore Duv Galeni right behind them. Both were in full uniform, their military greatcoats flapping about their knees in the raw air, but neither was shaved, and Ivan could only wonder at what wee hour each had been booted out of bed to scramble for this. In any case, he had to extract himself from the frantic maternal hug before turning to not-salute, since he was in civvies, but at least present a suitable acknowledging nod to his grim superiors. Tej was next in line for the hug, Ivan was glad to see. Simon just gripped his hands, a weird troubled expression on his face, and said nothing, though he also took the opportunity to embrace Tej, as what man would not? Ivan thought he heard him whisper in her ear, “Tej, I am so sorry,” but he wasn’t sure.

Allegre caught his eye. “Vorpatril,” he bit out, “are you responsible for this mess?”

“God, I hope not,” said Ivan fervently. An uneasy memory of all the documents he’d so blithely signed off on, back at the shuttleport about a subjective year ago, rose in his mind. The transition from
brave rescue-e
to
court-martial accuse-e
might be just a slip of the tongue away; despite his fatigue and pounding headache, Ivan tried to come alert. He could only pray that the discovery of the immense treasure waiting below would pacify everyone, eventually, once they got it all sorted out.

Meanwhile, spread the blame…Ivan turned to Allegre, and asked, “Did you ever find out anything more about Sergeant Abelard and his bomb?”

“What?” said Allegre, startled. This gave Ivan the opportunity to tell that tale, and present the dog-tags, happily still in his pocket. Star had only evidently got as far as conveying the
skeleton
and
old bomb
parts; Ivan could see Allegre was gratified to have at least one answer to his high-piled heap of morning mysteries presented, as it were, on a platter, especially as it didn’t seem like anyone would be doing any DNA work on the poor dead bastard any time soon, if any body fragments could be found after the blast. Also, it punted the ball back into ImpSec’s lap, if at a thirty-five year remove, which could only be to the good.

“Is there really a treasure worth millions of marks down there?” Simon demanded next. Galeni was right at his shoulder, for this one.

“Simon, there were millions in the first crate we opened. Hundred of millions down there, at the least guess.” Ivan turned to Galeni. “And crates of hundred-year-old documents packed to the ceiling, Barrayaran and Cetagandan. They’re going to take
years
to sort. I found a holograph letter from Prince Xav to Prince Yuri in one of them.” He pulled the folded letter out of his jacket and handed it across to Duv, who took it; one glance, and his mouth, which had opened to say something—probably about correct document conservation starting with not folding up rare items and stuffing them in one’s pocket—just stayed open. Ivan had never seen Duv’s eyes go so wide.

Across the road, a stressed-out-looking Captain Raudsepp finished loading Imola and his followers into a security van with the assistance of a couple of burly patrollers, then turned and plowed back through the crowd to Ivan.

“Lady Vorpatril is safe? Thank God! But I swear, those clowns didn’t slip in through any shuttleport on the planet!”