Miles Errant - Lois McMaster Bujold [123]
* * *
Back in the foyer Ivan said, "Now what?"
"I think," said Captain Galeni, "it is time to return to the embassy. And send a full report to HQ."
The urge to confess, eh? "No, no, never send interim reports," said Miles. "Only final ones. Interim reports tend to elicit orders. Which you must then either obey, or spend valuable time and energy evading, which you could be using to solve the problem."
"An interesting command philosophy; I must keep it in mind. Do you share it, Commander Quinn?"
"Oh, yes."
"The Dendarii Mercenaries must be a fascinating outfit to work for."
Quinn smirked. "I find it so."
CHAPTER TWELVE
They returned to the embassy nonetheless, Galeni to galvanize his staff into an all-out investigation of the now highly-suspect courier officer, Miles to change back into his Barrayaran dress greens and visit the embassy physician to have his hand properly set. If there was a lull in his life after this mess was cleared up, Miles reflected, perhaps he'd better take the time to go get the bones and joints in his arms and hands, not just the long bones of his legs, replaced with synthetics. Getting the legs done had been painful and tedious, but putting off the arms wasn't going to make it any better. And he certainly couldn't pretend he was going to do any more growing.
Somewhat morose with these thoughts, he left the embassy clinic and wandered down to Security's office sub-level. He found Galeni sitting alone at his comconsole desk, having generated a flurry of orders that dispatched subordinates in all directions. The lights in the office were dimmed. Galeni was leaning back with his feet on the desk, crossed at the ankles, and Miles had the impression that he would have preferred a bottle of something potently alcoholic in his hand to the light pen he now turned over and over.
Galeni smiled bleakly, sat up, and took to tapping the pen on the desk as Miles entered. "I've been thinking it over, Vorkosigan. I'm afraid we may not be able to avoid calling in the local authorities in this."
"I wish you wouldn't do that, sir." Miles pulled up a chair and sat astride it, arms athwart its back. "Involve them, and the consequences pass beyond our control."
"It will take a small army to find those two on Earth now."
"I have a small army," Miles reminded him, "which had just demonstrated its effectiveness for this sort of thing, I think."
"Ha. True."
"Let the embassy hire the Dendarii Mercenaries to find our . . . missing persons."
"Hire? I thought Barrayar was already paying for them!"
Miles blinked innocently. "But sir, it's part of their covert status that that relationship is unknown even to the Dendarii themselves. If the embassy hires them in a formal contract for this job, it—covers the cover, so to speak."
Galeni raised his brows sardonically. "I see. And how do you propose to explain your clone to them?"
"If necessary, as a clone—of Admiral Naismith."
"Three of you, now?" said Galeni dubiously.
"Just set them to find your—find Ser Galen. Where he is, the clone will be too. It worked once."
"Hm," said Galeni.
"There's just one thing," Miles added. He ran one finger thoughtfully along the top of the chair back. "If we do succeed in catching them—just what is it that we plan to do with 'em?"
The light pen tapped. "There are," said Galeni, "only two or three possibilities. One, they can be arrested, tried, and incarcerated for the crimes committed here on Earth."
"During the course of which," Miles observed seriously, "Admiral Naismith's cover as a supposedly independent operator will almost certainly be compromised, his true identity publicly revealed. I can't pretend the Barrayaran Empire will stand or fall on the Dendarii Mercenaries, but Security has found us useful in the past. Command may—I hope may—regard this as a poor trade. Besides, has my clone in fact committed any crimes he can be held for? I think he may even be a minor, by Eurolaw rules."
"Second alternative," Galeni recited. "Kidnap them and returned them secretly to Barrayar