Miles Errant - Lois McMaster Bujold [119]
Miles turned to Captain Galeni. "How shall we—Imperial Security—handle this, sir?" he said deferentially. "Do we really want to call in the local authorities?"
"Oh, so I'm 'sir' again, am I?" muttered Galeni. "Of course we want the police. We can't extradite these people. But now that they're guilty of a crime right here on Earth, the Eurolaw authorities will hold them for us. It'll break up this whole radical splinter group."
Miles tamped down his personal urgency, trying to make his voice cool and logical. "But a public trial would bring out the whole clone story. In all its details. It would attract a lot of undesirable attention to me, from a security viewpoint. Including, you may be sure, Cetagandan attention."
"It's too late to put a lid on this."
"I'm not so sure. Yes, rumors will float, but a few sufficiently confused rumors might actually be useful. Those two," Miles gestured to the captured guards, "are small fry. My clone knows more than they do, and he's already back at the embassy. Which is, legally, Barrayaran soil. What do we need them for? Now that we have you back, and have the clone, the plot is void. Put this group under surveillance like the rest of the Komarran expatriates here on Earth, and they're no further danger to us."
Galeni met his eyes, then looked away, pale profile tense with the unspoken corollary: and your career will be uncompromised by a splashy public scandal. And you won't have to confront your father. "I . . . don't know."
"I do," said Miles confidently. He gestured a waiting Dendarii over. "Sergeant. Take a couple of techs upstairs and suck out these people's comconsole files. Take a fast scan around for secret files. And while you're about it, search the house for a couple of anti-personnel-scan devices on belts, should be stored somewhere. Take them to Commodore Jesek and tell him I want him to find the manufacturer. As soon as you call the all-clear, we decamp."
"Now, that is illegal," Elli remarked.
"What are they going to do, go to the police and complain? I think not. Ah—you want to leave any messages on the comconsole, Captain?"
"No," said Galeni softly after a moment. "No messages."
"Right."
A Dendarii rendered first aid to Miles's broken finger and numbed his hand. The sergeant was back down in less than half an hour, anti-scan belts hung over his shoulder, and flipped a data disc at Miles. "You got it, sir."
"Thank you."
Galen had not yet returned. All things considered, Miles counted that as a plus.
Miles knelt by the still-conscious Komarran and held a stunner to his temple.
"What are you going to do?" croaked the man.
Miles's lips peeled back in a grin, cracking to bleed. "Why—stun you, of course, fly you out over the south coast, and drop you in. What else? Nighty-night." The stunner buzzed, and the struggling Komarran jerked and slumped. The Dendarii soldier retrieved his restraints, and Miles left the two Komarrans lying side by side on the garage floor. They let themselves out and keyed the garage doors closed carefully.
"Back to the embassy, then, and nail the little bastard," said Elli Quinn grimly, calling up the route to their destination from her rented car's console. The rest of the patrol withdrew to covert observation positions.
Miles and Galeni settled back. Galeni looked as exhausted as Miles felt.
"Bastard?" sighed Miles. "No. That's the one thing he is not, I'm afraid."
"Nail him first," Galeni murmured. "Define him later."
"Agreed," said Miles.
* * *
"How shall we go in?" asked Galeni as they approached the embassy in the late-morning light.
"Only one way," said Miles. "Through the front door. Marching. Pull up at the front, Elli."
Miles and Galeni looked at each other and snickered. Miles's beard was well behind Galeni's