Chapter 12

"Thank you, Lieutenant, I'll be sure to look into it. Good-bye."

Miles Vorkosigan cut the connection on his comconsoles and grinned. Alby Vorsworth had just called him in a near-panic that Anny Payne wasn't scheduled to go along with her regiment when it shipped out to Nova Paveo in a few days. His grin quickly faded. He was perfectly aware of the situation, of course. He and Gregor had pulled the strings which got the 61st Infantry included in the expedition in the first place precisely to get Anny off Barrayar for a while. He wasn't about to allow her to be left behind now!

But the reason they wanted her far away wiped the last of the grin from his face completely. He picked up a report from ImpSec that was lying on his desk. It detailed the recent activities of a former inmate of a Barrayaran military prison who had been released two months before. Yosef Vorritter had been a lieutenant in the navy until he'd made the serious mistake of trying to rape Anny Payne during a training cruise in her junior year at the Academy. Alby and her other friends had intervened and Vorritter had been court-martialed, cashiered, and sent to prison. But he was free now and Miles was afraid he was out for revenge on the person who he might well think had ruined his life.

Vorritter had made some threatening statements while still in prison although nothing specific enough to keep him there. At Miles' request—insistence really—ImpSec was keeping an eye on the man since he was released. He had contacted two of his accomplices in the attempted rape—although those men had merely been kicked out of the military but not imprisoned—and done a few other things that could be labeled suspicious, but nothing that was sufficient to chuck him back into prison. It was a damn shame that he couldn't just order a fast-penta interrogation to find out just what Vorritter might be up to. Well, he could order it, but fast-penta testimony on desires and intentions weren't admissible evidence in criminal cases so it wouldn't do much good. Miles had been holding off on addressing Anny's deployment situation in hopes that Vorritter might make some mistake in the meantime that was admissible, but now time was running out and he'd have to act.

So, how to get Anny back with her regiment? He could just issue an order, of course. Or he could talk to any one of a number of different admirals or generals in the military and get them to issue an order. Or he could get Gregor to issue an order. What would be best? These things needed to be handled delicately…

[Scene Break]

"So what did he say?" asked Patric Mederov.

Alby sighed in exasperation. "He said that he would look into it!"

"When? We've only got three days left!"

"I know, I know!" He got up and turned away from the comconsoles and paced back and forth in his small room. "There's got to be something we can do!"

"Well, we could always stuff her in a duffle bag and smuggle her aboard the transport," said Patric.

"Yeah… yeah!"

"Alby, I was joking!"

"I know, but it could still work! We just need to get her aboard the ship somehow. Once we've made the first jump, we're home free!"

"We most certainly are not! Vorsilva would find out she's gone and send a tight-beam message which would beat us to Komarr. They'd drag her off the ship and send her back by fast courier—and probably to a court marshal if this Vorsilva is as big a jerk as you tell me he is."

"Yeah, I guess so… damn! Somehow we have to get her aboard without Vorsilva knowing until it's too late to do anything…"

"Alby, that's crazy! She—and us!—could get in so much trouble!"

"Nah, once we're outside of Imperial space, no one's going to go to the trouble of shipping her back. And once we're in action, who's going to care anymore?"

"Alby, even if we could arrange all that, how would you ever get Anny to agree? She's as straight an arrow as they come! She'd never disobey orders!"

"Oh yeah? You shoulda seen her disobey orders when we were on Dounby!"

"That was different! You—and a lot of our people—were in danger. She'll never abandon a comrade, but this isn't the same thing at all!"

"Maybe so, but I'm damn well not going to abandon a comrade either! Now she's in trouble and somehow we're gonna help her!"

"But how?" asked Patric. "Heck, even if we could stuff her in a duffle bag, where would we put her? When we move out we're not going straight up to the ships, they're sending everyone to Vorbarr Sultana first for that send-off parade!"

"Yeah, yeah…" Alby knew that the Duffle Bag Gambit was a non-starter, but the parade complicated things even further. "Maybe we could lock her in a suit of battle armor. They're being shipped up to the transports tomorrow."

"Alby!"

"All right! All right!"

"Say, did you hear who one of the brigade commanders for the BEF is going to be?"

"No, who?"

"Commandant Sylvanus—he's a general now—he'll be commanding one of the brigades. He always seemed to like Anny. Think maybe he could help?"

"Maybe…" Alby thought furiously. Sylvanus might be willing to help, but Vorsilva would have seniority over him… but he might know someone higher-ranking… Damn! This was ridiculous! He'd made up a whole list of high-ranking people who his father had served with—if he could just get his father lucid enough to make some calls! Wait a minute… The Old Vor Network ought to work for sons, not just fathers…

Maybe I don't need the old man…

Alby flung himself back into his chair and fired up the comconsole.

"Who are you calling?" asked Patric.

"Everyone."

[Scene Break]

Anny stared at the calendar on the wall. Three days. Three more days and the 61st would be moving out. First to Vorbarr Sultana for the send-off parade and then a couple of days later up to the transport ships that would take them to Nova Paveo.

And she'd still be here… left behind.

Of course she might not actually be here—at Fort Vorolson—for much longer. Apparently Vorsilva's threat to have her sent to other bases to set up more women's groups had not been an idle one. She had started getting messages from the S-9 officer at the Imperial Service Headquarters—a general no less—asking about the program she had set up. If they wanted her transferred, she had no doubt Vorsilva would sign the order in a heartbeat. If that happened, she might never see the 61st again. Might never command troops again…

"Lieutenant?" She twitched, dropping her stylus on the floor. Corporal Kane had snuck up on her again. How did anyone so tall manage to move so silently?

"Yes?"

"Got a minute?"

"Sure." I've got lots of minutes. Bushels of 'em. How many do you want?

"Good. I've run into a sort of problem with the idea of sending a reporter along with the BEF."

"Why? The General approved it and so did the BEF chief of staff. I told you that the other day."

"Yeah, but now I've got no one to send. Elridge and Malakov have both backed out on me. I suppose I could try and find someone in the 61st who's going, but I don't know anyone who I could trust to do the job."

Anny shrugged, unable to generate much sympathy for Kane's dilemma. "Well, it was a good idea, Corporal, but sometimes these things just don't work out. Of the folks I know in the 61st, none of them really seem the reporter type. I wish I could help but…"

"But you can help, sir." Kane was smiling.

"How?"

"You could be our reporter."

Anny snorted. "Are you crazy? I'm not going along!"

"But you could! As our reporter!"

"Corporal…"

"Look at the order, sir!" He held out a flimsy; it was a copy of Vorsilva's approval to send a reporter. "It says right here: The S-9 office is authorized to send a representative with the Barrayaran Expeditionary Force to report back newsworthy items. A 'representative', sir! It doesn't say who! All the rest of this stuff on the page is just sayin' we have to get permission from the Force commander and such—which you already did. We can send anyone we like! Why not you?"

"Corporal, I really don't think that's what General Vorsilva intended when he wrote this."

"What difference does that make, sir?" Kane's grin was even wider. "It's an order. And an order's an order, I always say."

"I have my duties here…"

"Which the three of us can do just fine, sir! You've got things running so smoothly there's no reason you couldn't take a few months off on detached assignment. And that's what it would be! Not like you're abandoning your post or anything, sir! I looked it all up."

Anny stared at the man in astonishment. This was ridiculous. Insane. Completely against regulations. Wasn't it? Wasn't it? "But… but…"

"Why not, sir? I know you want to go along—can't say I understand why, but that's none of my business. And here's your chance. What d'you say, sir?"

"It… it would never work. Vorsilva would cancel the order… make me come back…" she was mumbling, in a daze.

"You'll be long gone before he finds out," said Kane. "Right after the 61st ships out the General is taking a two-week leave with his wife. He's even cancelled the weekly staff meetings while he's gone. By the time he realizes, you'll be a dozen jumps away!"

"How… how do you know that? Have you been talking to Alby Vorsworth or something?"

"What? No, sir. But I've got my sources," smirked Kane. "I'm a newshound, y'know!"

"This is… crazy…"

"Maybe so, sir, but if you want to go, I'm thinking this is your best shot."

Anny continued to stare at the man. She did want to go. More than anything. And if she could figure a way to go, Fetherbay would put her to work, she had no doubt of that. With the regiment, maybe back with her company, her platoon… her man. Fortune favors the bold…

"I… I need to think about this…"

"Sure!" said Kane. "But let me know what you decide, okay, sir? Only three days left, y'know." The man picked up her stylus off the floor, set it on her desk and then left her office, still grinning.

Anny stared after him for a while but eventually her gaze drifted back to the blank comconsole screen. This is crazy! That thought filled her mind for a long time, but slowly another thought began to intrude: I want to go! For a while the two thoughts warred inside her head. Crazy! Go! Crazy! Go! Crazy! Going… crazy…!

Almost without volition her hand typed in a code on her comconsole. After a few moments, a harried-looking man appeared on the screen. "First Battalion ordnance, Sergeant Gadd, what do you…? Oh, Lieutenant Payne. What can I do for you?"

"Hi, Sarge," she heard herself say. "All those new suits of Mark XIs that you're shipping up to the fleet, you've got some spares, right? Replacements for damaged or destroyed ones?"

"Sure, about fifty of them, plus a shitload of spare parts. Trying to get those all organized right now." The man's eyes narrowed. "Why? You gonna need one?"

"Maybe. Thanks, Sarge. Talk to you later." She cut the connection.

I must be out of my mind…

But despite a voice in the back of her head howling doom and disaster, she found herself typing out an order to herself to report to the regimental headquarters of the 61st Regiment Imperial Infantry as a news correspondent. She tagged a copy to brigade and regimental HQs, but she didn't send it. It was all set up and saved, though. Just the touch of a key would send it on its way.

Then she started typing out detailed instructions on how to run the S-9 office 'in the event the officer in command is absent'. She worked right through lunch. Then more suggestions to Sara Fetherbay on running the women's groups. Then a letter to Lady Vorkosigan explaining what was happening and asking her to keep an eye on things. Everything went into a file ready…for what?

Her heart was pounding and her hands shaking as she pushed herself away from her desk. She took her greatcoat off the hook and walked into the outer office. "Leaving early sir?' asked Sergeant Elridge.

"Yeah, close up when you go, okay?"

"Yes sir."

She went out the back door, sealing up the coat against a frigid wind. Winterfair had come and gone and they were into the dead of winter now. It was damn cold. What sort of climate did Nova Paveo have? Stop thinking about that! You are not going! Oh really? What had she just spent the afternoon doing? There was a dagger of fear in her gut colder than the wind.

It was not the fear of getting caught. Well, not just the fear of getting caught. If all that Corporal Kane had said was true, she might very well be able to get away with this. Vorsilva might raise a stink when he found out, but it seemed unlikely that he'd have the pull to actually get her shipped back or face charges. No, she wasn't afraid of the consequences—she was afraid of her own motivations. If she did this, it wouldn't be for the good of the regiment or the good of the Imperium, it would be for her good. Just because she wanted to. She could make up all the justifications and good reasons in the world, but they would all be lies. She'd be doing it for her own selfish desires. Oh, it probably wouldn't do any harm and it might even do some actual good, but that would just be a by-product. She had the power to do this, but did she have the right?

She wandered through the base, struggling with her own thoughts. Throughout her years at the Academy, her duty had usually been clear. But now… now…

Her feet brought her back to the BOQ just as it was getting completely dark. Most everyone else would be off getting dinner, but Anny wasn't the least bit hungry. She stamped some clinging snow off her boots and then trudged up the steps to the second floor. She hesitated when she saw that her door was open. What was Jac doing here at this hour? She stuck her head in the door and was startled to see that her dog-robber had all her clothing and gear laid out on the bed and the chairs and the desk and he appeared to be puzzling over something.

"Jac…?"

"Oh, hello, Lieutenant," said the lance corporal. "How are you today?"

"What are you doing?"

"Oh!" For an instant Anny thought the man was going to say nothing despite all the evidence to the contrary, but then he said: "The thought struck me the other day that I'd never actually tried packing up all your kit. You know, in case you had to move out. Not that you're moving out, of course, but just in case, you understand."

"Jac…"

"And I must say that it's going very smoothly, sir. You wouldn't believe the amount of junk some of the young gentlemen accumulate if they've been in one spot for a while."

"Jac…"

"I was glad to see that you haven't given into that temptation, Lieutenant. All your kit ought to fit into…"

"Jac!"

"Sir?"

"Why are you doing this now?"

"No time like the present, sir. A gram of prevention is worth a kilo of…"

"And a rolling stone gathers no damnweed. I am not going anywhere, Lance Corporal!"

"Course not! Course not! Never said you were, sir!" said Jac, nodding his head. "But it's good to know you could pack up and move in a hurry if you ever had to, isn't it, sir?"

Anny scowled at him.

"But I am sorry to leave your quarters in such a mess. Wasn't expecting you back this early, sir. Haven't you eaten yet? Why don't you nip over to the Mess for a bite and I'll have this all tidied up by the time you get back."

Since there wasn't even any place to sit down, she let herself be ushered out of her own room and back outside into the cold. She had no desire to go to the Officers Mess; everyone was so excited and jolly over the deployment she couldn't bear it. So she went to the normal mess hall and got a tray of food and sat down in the nearly deserted officers' section. What the hell was Jac up to? She asked herself the question again and again. She didn't think for one minute it had been a coincidence. But if it wasn't…God! Has Corporal Kane been blabbing his idea of sending me off as a reporter all over camp? What a mess that could cause!

She dithered and pushed her food around on her plate with her fork and then eventually headed back to her quarters. Jac was gone and everything was back in order. Jer was especially attentive that night but he didn't say a word about Anny coming along. Maybe Kane's blabbing only extended to the enlisted ranks. Or maybe it had been a coincidence. She was so distracted that she scarcely paid attention to Jer until she suddenly realized he wasn't just trying to console her. He was in distress, himself, about their impending separation. Silently chastising herself she focused her attention on the man she loved and the evening went much better after that.

The next day her tension was even worse. What the hell was she going to do? If she was going to give in and try Kane's crazy scheme she'd have to decide today. Today. There was no time left. She called up the file she'd created 'authorizing' her assignment to the Regiment as a reporter and re-read it about six times; making tiny and meaningless revisions to the wording each time. All she had to do was hit the 'send' key, say goodbye to her subordinates, start packing—and don't look back. Would it be wrong? She started once again down the long list of pros and cons that had been swirling through her brain since Kane had suggested this insanity. Half the morning slipped by while she tortured herself.

Fortune favors the bold.

That phrase kept coming back to her again and again. She'd proven she could be bold when necessary. In the midst of a forest fire, in the heat of combat, even during a training exercise. But coldly calculating and self-serving boldness, could she do that? Somehow it seemed a lot tougher than facing enemy fire.

It was almost lunch time. She had to decide. Now. Her hand reached toward the keyboard…

The ping from her comconsole signaling an incoming priority message was so unexpected she snatched her hand back and actually squeaked in alarm. Gasping, she hit the accept key and found herself facing Captain Vordranov, General Vorsilva's chief of staff. "Yes sir?" she said, breathlessly.

"Payne! Get your ass up here! The General wants to see you—right now!"

"Y-yes, sir! On my way!" She was out of her chair and out of the office in an instant.

Oh God, what's this? Has he found out what I was planning? If Jac knew, others could, too. If he heard rumors, he could have checked my comconsole and found that order! Oh God, Oh God, Oh God!

She fairly ran up the stairs to the second floor where Vorsilva had his office. The secretary waved her through to Vordranov who simply scowled at her and pointed at the door to the General's office. Anny went through and came to attention in front of Vorsilva's large desk. "Lieutenant Payne, reporting as ordered, sir," she said, saluting.

Vorsilva did not return the salute. He just glared at her, tapping a finger on a small pile of flimsies. Anny, wearing thermal underwear because of the frigid temperatures outdoors, found herself sweating.

After nearly a minute, Vorsilva finally broke his silence. "Thirty years. I've been in the Imperial Service for thirty years, Payne, and I have never—never!—seen something like this!" Anny's mouth fell open but she snapped it shut before anything stupid could fall out. Shut up! Don't say anything unless he asks a question! "I suppose that with time, we become used to people using their influence to manipulate the system. It becomes normal for people to do that to get what they want. But I have never seen anything so… so blatant as this!" He slapped his hand down on the flimsies. What were they? Copies of the orders she'd written? He reached out and picked one up.

"From General Timmon Vorzanov: 'General Vorsilva, I realize the needs of your command come first, but if you could see fit to release Lieutenant Payne back to her regiment, I'd consider it a personal favor.'"

What? Who…? Anny had never heard of the man.

Vorsilva dropped the first flimsy and picked up another. "From Admiral Wainwright: 'I was wondering if you'd consider sending Payne back to her regiment?' And this is from General Vorlanton: 'It seems to me that a rising young officer would better serve the Imperium in a combat unit…' " Vorsilva snatched up the entire stack and waved them at her. "Twelve! Twelve of them! Six generals, five admirals and one commodore! All suggesting I send you back to your regiment! All of them arrived this morning! How in God's name did you ever find time to even meet all these people?"

"I… I…" Anny gibbered, but Vorsilva was still going on.

"But the topper, your crowning moment of improper meddling came just a few minutes ago!" He picked up yet another flimsy. "'Lieutenant Andreanne Payne is to be returned to duty with the 61st Regiment Imperial Infantry immediately.' Not a request! An order! From General Vordalla, the head of the Imperial Chiefs of Staff! Well? What do you have to say for yourself, Payne?"

But Anny was hardly listening anymore. Returned? Back to the 61st? I'm not being left behind? A silly grin was starting to grow on her face.

"Well?" roared Vorsilva. Anny flinched.

"I… I… I have nothing to say, sir," she stammered out. She ruthlessly told her facial muscles to ditch the grin, but they ignored her.

"I'll bet you don't!" snarled Vorsilva. "In my day this sort of gross favoritism would never have been tolerated! What's this empire coming to? Proven officers are left rotting on the shelf while every damn… toady who has a friend in high places gets the plum assignments!" The man's face was turning red, but he finally cut off his rant. He stared at her so venomously that her grin finally went into hiding.

"Well!" he snapped. "There are still a few of us left who know how to follow an order and I've been given one!" He held up the flimsy again. "Go on! Get out! Go back to your damn regiment!"

"Thank you, s…"

"Go!"

"Yes, sir!" Anny didn't wait a moment longer. She saluted, spun on her heel and marched away. Once out of the office she sprinted back to her own desk and erased all trace of her self-generated correspondent order. By then her real order for returning to the 61st had arrived. She read it four times in growing elation.

"Good news, sir?" Corporal Kane was leaning in her door.

"Yes," she said. Very good."

[Scene Break]

Alby denied everything, of course.

And his denial of contacting General Vordalla was so convincing that Anny felt sure he was telling the truth. So there was at least one other player in this bizarre game that had landed her exactly where she wanted to be. Lord Vorkosigan?

"Does it really matter?" asked Jer when she voiced her curiosity. "The important thing is you're coming along!"

She couldn't argue with that.

The mad scramble to wrap up her affairs at Fort Vorolson and get ready to ship out had left her breathless. She was sad to leave the women's groups behind but Sara Fetherbay said she would keep them running. They would be more important than ever with all the families remaining at the fort while the men were away. And with the regiment possibly heading into combat, it wouldn't be like a normal deployment with the fleet. Anny promised Corporal Kane that she would send back stories as often as she could. Jac promised he'd get all her gear sent up to the transport ship she'd be on.

And so, two days later, she and Jer and Alby and Patric and a whole lot of other people were marching down the main streets of Vorbarr Sultana in their red-and-blue parade uniforms, being cheered by thousands and thousands of onlookers. It wasn't quite as big or quite as jubilant as the parade for Princess Kareen had been. For one thing it was still winter and the weather kept a lot of people away. For another, they weren't celebrating a royal birth, they were sending their troops away, to some unimaginably distant place where battle might await. The Emperor was on a reviewing stand and Anny thought his face looked very somber; nothing at all like he looked that day celebrating his daughter's birth.

But the bands played gallant tunes and somehow they'd found flower petals to strew in the streets and a watery winter sun bathed the whole thing in a gentle glow. Anny marched at the front of her platoon—it was hers again! Patric had been given another assignment!—and the column wound its way through the streets and life was very good.

The parade ended at Vorbarr Sultana's main monorail station where the troops would board a series of special trains which would take them to a large military shuttleport outside the city. The troops were allowed to break ranks and say their goodbyes to the families which had followed them here. With the whole BEF there, it was a mob scene and it took several hours for everyone to board the trains. Anny found Jer and just mingled until it was their turn.

The excitement and pride of the parade was giving way to the realization that these partings could last for years and they could last forever. It was a scene that had been replayed thousands of times in Barrayaran history—and human history stretching back millennia: women seeing their men off to war. Tears seemed to be on every face and Anny found herself choking up at times. There had been no time for her own family to make the trip to the city and she was just as glad they weren't here. Alby's parents had come, his father in a power chair, and it had made a deep impression on the usually cynical Alby. He had clung to his mother for a long time and didn't say much afterwards. His two brothers hadn't returned after another such goodbye.

"It's sinking in," said Jer.

"Yeah, this is for real. When we left on our training cruise it still didn't seem real. None of us were expecting what happened on Dounby. This time…"

"Sorry you're coming?" asked Jer with a grin.

"Not a bit. This is where I belong."

Finally there was an announcement in the earbugs they were all wearing: "61st Regiment! Attention! Prepare to embark! 1st Battalion, Gate 32! 2nd Battalion, Gate 36! 3rd Battalion, Gate 40! All other 61st personnel, Gate 45!"

A shudder went through Anny. The transport ships only held a battalion each. She and Jer would be on different ships for the long journey to Nova Paveo. Supposedly they would be given shore leave a few times at planets along the way, but they wouldn't be seeing much of each other on the trip and maybe not at all once they got to their destination. Suddenly, they were clinging to each other, locked in a kiss. "Take care of yourself," she whispered in his ear when they broke the kiss.

"You, too," he whispered back. "I love you."

"Love you, too."

They slowly let go of each other. More than a few people were gawking at them, but she didn't care. They pulled apart, fingers still entwined until they finally had to let go. Anny nodded to him and then headed toward where her battalion was forming. On the way, she saw Colonel Fetherbay with his wife and daughter. The girl was clinging to him and sobbing. Anny looked away.

Sergeant Kay had the platoon lined up and waiting when she got there. The rest of the battalion was nearly formed. "Everything in order, Sergeant?" she asked him.

"Yes, sir. Good to have you back, sir."

"Good to be back."

Vorstang—Captain Vorstang now, there had been a wave of long-overdue promotions in the regiment—called C Company to attention. A monorail car was sliding into position opposite where they were waiting and the doors popped open.

"All aboard!" bellowed First Sergeant Nikolaidis.

The men shuffled through the doors and found seats. Except for their ceremonial rifles they carried no gear at all. Everything had –hopefully!—been sent up to their transports already. Anny unclipped her sword and put it in the overhead rack and sat down. Ensign Vorgard plopped down next to her.

"Well!" he exclaimed, looking excited. "We're on our way!"

"Yes," said Anny. "We're on our way."

End of Book One

Author's note:

Okay, we've reached the end of Book One! Unfortunately, there will be a bit of a delay before I start posting the chapters of Book Two. Why? Well, I've decided to include one of the canon characters in the adventure. And in doing so I will have to include some major spoilers for the upcoming "Captain Vorpatril's Alliance". Since I don't want to spoil things for anyone, I am going to delay posting any more until after CVA is officially released. Sorry about that! (And please, don't YOU post any spoilers in your reviews speculating on how this is all going to work!)