Diplomatic Immunity - Lois McMaster Bujold [74]
Half a dozen mildly outraged arguments coursed through Miles's mind, to be promptly rejected. He wasn't supposed to know Bel that well. Not that someone who did know Bel would be in the least shocked by Venn's delicate suggestion . . . no. Bel's sexual tastes might be eclectic, but the herm wasn't the sort to betray the trust of a friend. Had never been. We all change. "You might ask Boss Watts," he temporized. He caught Roic's rolling eye and head-jerk in the direction of Venn's comconsole, affixed to the curving office wall. Miles continued smoothly, "Better still, call Garnet Five. If Thorne's there, the mystery is solved. If not, she might at least know where Thorne was headed." He tried to decide which would be the worse cause for dismay. The memory of the hot rivets parting his hair inclined him to hope for the first result, despite Nicol.
Venn opened an upper hand in acknowledgment of the point, and half-turned to tap out a search-code on his comconsole with a lower. Miles's heart jumped as Garnet Five's serene face and crisp voice came on, but it was only an answering program. Venn's brows twitched; he left a brief request that she contact him at her earliest convenience, and cut the com.
"She could just be asleep," said the night-shift woman wistfully.
"Send a patroller to check," said Miles a little tightly. Remembering he was supposed to be a diplomat, he added, "If you please."
Teris Three, looking as though a vision of her sleep sack was receding before her eyes, departed again. Miles and Roic returned to Nicol, who turned anxious eyes upon them as they floated back into the waiting chamber. Miles barely hesitated before reporting the patroller's sighting to her.
"Can you think of any reason for them to have met?" he asked her.
"Lots," she answered without reserve, confirming Miles's secret judgment. "I'm sure she'd want news from Bel about Ensign Corbeau, or anything happening that might affect his chances. If she crossed trajectories with Bel coming home through the Joint, she'd be sure to grab the chance to try to get some news. Or she might have just wanted an ear to vent at. Most of her other friends are not too sympathetic about her romance, after the Barrayaran attack and the fire."
"All right, that might account for the first hour. But no more. Bel was tired. Then what?"
She turned all four hands out in helpless frustration. "I can't imagine."
Miles's own imagination was all too wildly active. Need data dammit was becoming his private mantra here. He left Roic to make more distracting small talk with Nicol and, feeling a trifle selfish, took himself to the side of the chamber to call Ekaterin on his wrist com.
Her voice was sleepy but cheerful, and she stoutly maintained that she'd been awake already, and just about to get up. They exchanged a few verbal caresses that were no one's business but their own, and he described what he'd found as a result of the gossip she'd collected about Solian's nosebleeds, which seemed to please her greatly.
"So where are you now, and what have you had for breakfast?" she asked.
"Breakfast is delayed. I'm at the Station Security HQ." He hesitated. "Bel Thorne went missing last night, and they're putting together a search for it."
A little silence greeted this, and her return remark was as carefully neutral in tone as his own. "Oh. That's very worrisome."
"Yes."
"You are keeping Roic with you at all times, aren't you?"
"Oh, yes. The quaddies have armed guards trailing me around now, too."
"Good." Her breath drew in. "Good."
"The situation's getting pretty murky over here. I may have to send you home after all. We have four more days to decide, though."
"Well. In four more days we can talk about it, then."
Between his desire not to alarm her further, and hers not to distract him unduly, the conversation grew limping, and he mercifully tore himself from the calming sound of her voice to let her go bathe and dress and obtain her own breakfast.
He wondered if