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The VR treadmill finished the Vorhartung Bluff program and cycled into the cool-down phase. Ivan hadn’t really expected the simulation to capture the demands and rewards of the real run but it hadn’t come as close as the price tag promised. The real thing involved blizzard conditions right now. At least there were indoor riding rings for working his horses even if he used his light flyer rather than drive the icy roads, even with his new beast.
The program pinged when his heart rate and breathing were within norm. He slowed to a stop, pulled off the headset and stepped off the tread. A long drink water and a slow stretch down to his toes finished his routine. He grabbed up his towel and turned to head upstairs. He wasn’t alone.
“Simon!” he said with a smile. “Sir, there’s an interrupt--”
Illyan held up a hand to stop him, looking a little surprised and gratified by the welcome. “I heard you bought this for the gym. I haven’t tried it yet.”
“A tread can’t really simulate the feel of the ground and how it changes. It’s better than just a tread but it’s more a distraction from monotony than a real experience. I’ve read about a grav chamber but it’s really military grade and crazy expensive. Still…”
Illyan smiled. “More expensive than, what’s the term, ‘snowbirding in Vandeville?’”
Ivan toweled off his face and head, saying through the cloth, “Miles thinks I’m up to something devious in Vandeville.”
There was a moment’s pause. “Well, Miles… There are some good beaches for running. Easier on old bones.”
Ivan came out of the towel, grinning. “Even on younger ones if they don’t overdo it. Last time I was down I ran on a two moon night. Should have turned back sooner but I just couldn’t.”
“Call a cab.”
Ivan laughed, surprised. “Damn. Wish I’d thought of that. I was sore as hell for a couple of days… I wasn’t gone that long. You wouldn’t think I’d resent the weather so much.”
“Givens. They’ve changed.”
“So very much… Simon, I’m glad to talk but I’ll be more comfortable if I clean up. Can I offer you coffee while I do that, then breakfast?”
Simon Illyan considered the son of his lover, the welcome offered with his gentle condition. Ivan was no longer as panicked and awkward as he’d been about so many things.
“I’d like that very much.”
Ivan returned, as clean and composed as he was likely to be. He poured himself coffee and freshened Simon’s before sitting down. He took a sip and rolled his shoulders, settling comfortably.
“Endorphins.”
“That helps. I got some therapy on Escobar,” he admitted. “Kareen recommended it. I’m no longer petrified but I know you didn’t just come to chat.”
“It started before that.”
“I blame Dono for dragging me out from cover,” he agreed. “I was so busy reacting against what I thought threatened me that I didn’t realize what all my plans were for. They were my courage.”
Simon shook his head. “I think you may be selling yourself short. Considering what Miles has dragged you in to over the years, I’ve never doubted your courage. I see your plans as a philosophy. Escobar gave you the room to take it from passive to active.”
Ivan sipped his coffee, considering the opinion with some care. Simon watched him nod, integrating it into his thinking. “Thank you,” he said finally, “I hadn’t considered it that way… I didn’t mean to pre-empt your topic.”
“You haven’t, really. Visiting Escobar, your mother and I could both see you were growing into yourself, that you were able to accept our relationship.”
“Whatever sort of crazy I was before then, that wasn’t me anymore.”
“We were both happy to know you were coming back. I was a little concerned about your encounter with the appalling old bastard Vormoncrief but you rolled him up tidily in the end.”
“He caught me off-guard and I lost my temper the first time. I would have ignored him but he thought he could go after my friends and family with impunity.”
“I admit the royal family gambit was inspired.”
“They didn’t learn the first time,” he said, with a twinkle.
“I appreciated your apology on Escobar and I think it’s time I made one of my own.” He could see Ivan stiffen a little at the deliberate change of topic. “The cognitive therapy did me a great deal of good. I was able to retain more short-term things and carry them into long term starting immediately. Other things took more time to work out. Once, everything that happened in ImpSec, I knew. Now I have a lot of shadow memories I have difficulty connecting. I don’t always know about who it is.”
“Simon,” Ivan’s voice was a whisper, “You don’t—”
“I do.” Illyan stopped and took a long look at him, struggling with the memories from that time of horror. Finally he held out his hand. Ivan immediately took it in both hands and held it with a tight grip. “I didn’t remember it was you,” Illyan said finally, voice taut. “It wasn’t Vorberg. It was’t Vorberg before Alys came. It was you… Gods, Ivan, I am so sorry! You never said—”
Finally they were on a path he knew and Ivan interrupted quietly, “If you didn’t remember, I wasn’t going to remind you. Considering how freaked out I was about Miles, about you, about Haroche, you and Mamére, I’d have made a bigger disaster of it than I did.”
“But that’s really when the change started. You shouldn’t blame Dono.”
Ivan opened his mouth a couple times and shut it again. Finally he said, “I’ll be damned. No. No, sticking with Dono. Much more fun.”
Illyan was surprised into a chuckle. “Ivan, I have never met anyone better at deflecting than you.”
Ivan smiled. “What about breakfast?”