A muscle jumped in Lady ghem Estif’s fine jaw. “I sold it. Back on Earth.”
“All three meters of it,” confirmed Star. “At auction. It went for a fabulous sum, which we needed at that point. Far more money than I would have believed possible-there are collectors, it turns out. And absolute provenance, since we allowed the winner to cut it himself.”
Emerald, at her shoulder, muttered, “I still think he had a fetish.” Pearl nodded ruefully.
The Baronne, her own dark hair regrown barely finger-length beneath the red band, said nothing at all. The story under that silence…well, Ivan would doubtless get it later, too. No visible damage marred her skin, but it was not nearly so luminous as in the younger scans. Pallid, almost. These people are really tired.
“That was a pretty amazing sacrifice, for a haut woman,” Ivan offered, this seeming a less fraught topic. “I once met some of the ladies of the Star Creche itself, on Eta Ceta, some years ago. Their never-cut hair was a major status-marker.”
Lady ghem Estif’s expression went rather opaque. “It is long,” she stated, “since I left the Star Creche.” She hesitated, looking at Ivan more sharply. “Do the Consorts speak with Outlanders, now?”
“It was a special, um, event. What was your clan, that is, your haut constellation of origin, before you married the ghem general?”
“Rond.” Lady ghem Estif delivered the flat monosyllable without emotion. The Rond were one of the mid-grade Cetagandan Constellations, though that was like saying ‘one of the mid-grade billionaires.’ But she regarded Ivan with the faintest new spark of…less disapproval. As though he might be trainable, with the right program of exercises and rewards.
Byerly sucked on his lower lip, his expression baffled.
Officer Mahon and Pidge returned from the corner where they’d been talking in rapid under-voices. Mahon’s lips were screwed up in something less than joy, but better than hostility. Pidge looked unsettlingly serene.
Mahon blew out his breath. “This is what I can offer tonight, to get you people out of here and into some more comfortable location. If Captain Vorpatril, here, will speak for you as the Barrayaran subject to whom you are related, pledging his word and posting a bond, I can release you into his temporary custody as applicants for asylum. This allows you a two-week limited visa while waiting for judicial review. With an opportunity for extensions should the review take longer.”
Kicking the problem upstairs-much the best choice. Ivan would sympathize, except…
“Given the numerous irregularities, not to mention outright falsifications, in your travel documentation, for which you can, yes, plead mitigating circumstances”-a fending gesture at Pidge-“you should not count on your application being finally approved. But at least,” his voice dropped, as if talking to himself, possibly as the one sane person here, “I have forms to cover it all.”
Tej turned to Ivan, her bright eyes thrilled. “Oh, yes! I knew you could do it, Ivan Xav!”
Ivan tried to point out that he hadn’t done anything, yet, but the words stuck in his throat, especially when Tej spared a hug for him. This is not my fault. Right? Right? He glanced at By, who blinked back palpably unhelpfully.
“Bond,” Ivan said to Mahon. “Is that, like, a pledge of credit, or do you need cash down?”
“Cash, I’m afraid, Captain. Times nine, although I may be able to arrange a group discount. And a spoken oath, given your rank.”
“Ah.” How many forms? Multiplied by nine? No, he wasn’t going to make it to Ops on time today, was he. Ivan drew a deep inhalation. “In that case, Officer Mahon, I need to make some calls.”
Mahon was efficient; documentation hell only ran an hour and a half past the end of his shift. Either conscientious or curious, he stayed to see things through. Ivan read aloud off Mahon’s cheat sheet a number of promises to take responsibility for a number of things over which, as far as he could see, he had no control whatsoever, making it official; the Arquas watched this Barrayaran step with the inquisitiveness of metropolitans come down to take in a backcountry show at a District fair.
This dumped Ivan, Tej, the nine new Arquas, and their small mountain of luggage into a rented ground-van headed for downtown Vorbarr Sultana at the peak of morning traffic. By and Rish, who’d come out to the shuttleport by the new bubble tube-in service this week for a change, however temporarily-drove Ivan’s two-seater on ahead. Ivan wondered what they were saying to each other.
Conversation in the van had drifted off to a sleep-deprived muttering by the time they arrived at the hotel, just down the block from Ivan Xav’s flat. It seemed a middling sort of place, built in a functional mode during the reign of Emperor Ezar with patchy upgrades since, but the location could scarcely be bettered. Ivan Xav saw them all registered, which seemed to involve displays of both his credit and military IDs, then drew Tej aside.
“Now I really have to run to Ops. Don’t let them do anything awful till I get back, right? In fact, don’t let them do anything.”
“I think everyone wants to sleep, first.”
“That’d be all right. Yeah, do that.” He kissed her and fled.
Surprisingly, Rish managed to scrape By off at the lobby lift tubes; he bade her a fond farewell. Exiting at the seventh-floor lift-tube foyer, Rish paused and picked what seemed to be a piece of metallic lint from under her collar, murmured, “Nice try, By. Love and kisses,” and made smacking noises into it, and deposited it in the waste chute. At Tej’s sideways look, she merely shrugged.
Ivan Xav had somehow managed to secure rooms all in a row for them. A two-bedroom suite for the seniors with a central lounge connected on either side to bedrooms that absorbed Amiri and Jet, and Star, Pidge, Pearl and Emerald, plus their luggage. They all returned as swiftly as they could to the sitting room, where Tej and Rish were recounting, once more, the tale of their long flight, and took up perches to listen. And, inevitably, to critique.
When Tej came to the part about Ivan Xav’s clever marital rescue on Komarr, she glanced at Amiri and Jet and left out the bit about the balcony, saying only, “We weren’t thinking too straight by then, I guess. We were both so tired.”
“You weren’t thinking at all, as far as I can see,” said Pidge tartly. “Good grief, Tej, you’re as scatterbrained as ever.”
Pearl turned to Rish. “And you let her?”
“It worked out,” said Rish defensively.
Dada held up a thick hand to stem an incipient and well-worn digression into personalities, if adding mildly, “Though really, Tej-love, we could have negotiated you a favorable deal for a House heir anytime these past five years. All those wasted opportunities, just to end up with a Barrayaran?”
This was tolerable only because he had accepted Tej’s every No — well, No, thank you, Dada — on said deals for five years straight with no more demur than an occasional wince and grunt. At least Dada wouldn’t complain that Ivan Xav was a natural, being one himself. Nor could the Baronne, without blatant hypocrisy. Not that she couldn’t find other grounds.
“This Vorpatril fellow turns out to be quite interesting, for a Barrayaran, I will allow that,” said the Baronne. “If I thought it was guile and not blind luck, I would be quite proud of you both. Or-did you know of his high-level connections before negotiating this strange oral contract?”
“For free, no less,” said Star in an aggrieved undervoice. “ Tej.”
“No,” sighed Tej. “We only found out after.”
“Figures,” murmured Pearl.
“Did you look him up?” Tej asked the Baronne. “Back on Escobar?”
“Of course. As soon as Lily passed us that-at the time, it seemed a very garbled rumor, but actually it seems correct in more details than I would have believed. Not that we weren’t overjoyed to have finally located you two. But how closely does that boy actually stand the to Barrayaran Imperial throne?”