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"If you will just leave it to me, I believe I can get this thing back to its rightful," what was the word, "custodian with no one the wiser."

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Ivan makes an exasperated face, but leaves it at that with minimal muttering. There's really no talking Miles out of it, and Ivan isn't about to break ranks to deal with the reports on his own recognizance.

It is soon after this that they receive an (appropriately checked for poisons and the like) formal invitation to Yenaro's party.
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Miles unhesitatingly accepts.

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And when its bearer has departed, Ivan says:

"So tell me - how are you planning to get rid of the Empress's dildo?"
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Miles snorts. "I can't tell you," he says loftily, touching a hand to one of his paired silver Horus-eye collar pins - the insignia of an ImpSec agent. Which Miles is. "There's a lady's reputation involved."

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"Horseshit," pronounces Ivan. "Are you running some kind of secret rig for Simon Illyan?"

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"If I were, I couldn't tell you, now could I?"

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"Damned if I know." Ivan shakes his head, frustrated. "Well, it's your funeral."





The next day, with appropriate security arrangements in place, Miles and Ivan are both dropped off at Yenaro's house, which might appear next to a glossary entry for the term "genteel poverty". Background checks have indicated that Yenaro has never been a sculptor, which lends support to the "trap" over "accident" hypothesis, but into his den they walk regardless.

Ivan puts the various cautions out of his mind and flirts with the pretty ghem girls. There are several who don't seem to mind being flirted with in a batch, of which Ivan thoroughly approves. Miles wanders upstairs with Yenaro to investigate the incense lab, whether out of an appreciation for incense, a curiosity about Yenaro personally, or a despair of collecting a spare girl, Ivan does not know.

Miles eventually comes back down the stairs, seeming deeply uninterested in the party conversation as far as Ivan can tell - it seems lively enough to him, if unfamiliar, but Miles's tastes are not his own. They do both try the "zlati ale", which has... a taste. Ivan meanders back over to his batch of girls, and sees that Miles is talking to another ghem of the female persuasion, too, good for him.



Said girl speaks to Miles before he can say anything to her:

"Lord Vorkosigan. Would you care to take a walk in the garden with me?"
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"Why - certainly," he says. "Is Lord Yenaro's garden a sight to see?" In the dark?

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"I think it will interest you."

And of a sudden she's a woman on a mission, leading him out to meet - a ba. The same one who led him to the haut Linyabel.

"The ba will escort you the rest of the way."
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"Very well." He holds up a hand and extracts his com link from his pocket. "Base. I'm leaving Yenaro's premises for a while. Track me, but don't interrupt me unless I call for you."

"Yes, my lord," the driver answers dubiously. "Where are you going?"

"I'm - taking a walk with a lady," he half-fibs. "Wish me luck."

"Oh," says the driver; Miles can almost see the smile, the nod of understanding. "Good luck, my lord."

"Thank you," he says, closes the channel, and tucks the link back into his pocket. "All right."

And he follows the ba wherever it may care to lead.
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The ba leads him to -

a bubble.

How surprising.
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Yes, and let's not forget the miscellaneous landscape through which they have to traipse in order to get to this dilapidated little wooden building in the middle of an overgrown garden. Miles's poor boots are going to hate him for this. The place looks like it hasn't been touched in fifty years, granted that it must have been very pretty fifty years ago.

But - here he is, with the Great Key in his pocket. Ready to return it... under some potential circumstances.

"Milady?" he says cautiously.
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"It's Linyabel again," the bubble clarifies, in, indeed, the same slightly bubble-distorted voice. "Did your research confirm the provenance of the object to your satisfaction?"

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"...Yes," he says. "And a little more besides. I am left with... some further questions."

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"...What do you need to know?"

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"Why would be a fine start. Why did the Empress's most senior servant steal a piece of her regalia right before her funeral? I suppose there's a chance you don't know - but someone must. These things don't just happen. Every instinct I own is crying out that I am being set up - I, or Barrayar through me. I want to know enough to dodge the trap, wherever it may be hiding."

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"You may very well be being set up, but ceasing to hold the object would be a good start at being less easily implicated," says Linyabel.

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"I'm not convinced it would. Someone knew enough about me to - to arrange a very personally embarrassing accident. Someone might know enough about me to predict that I have no ambition to keep the thing. Maybe the trap comes after I give it back. Maybe you are the trap, knowingly or not. Information, milady. I need it."

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Linyabel sighs.

"The ba Lura was attempting to carry out the wishes of the late Celestial Lady, who intended that the key be copied but did not accomplish this before her death. It is even possible that what you have - if you have it? - is a decoy, but I can check."
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"I... see," he says. "So. The ba took the Key to the transfer station, to meet with - a different set of galactics? I sincerely doubt it. A planetary governor?" He remembers the markings on that huge ship he saw docking when they came in. All the governors have come with their entourages for the funeral. It's a reasonable shot in the dark.

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"A planetary governor," says Linyabel. "If you have any idea which direction ba Lura was coming from that might narrow it down, actually."

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"Unfortunately, no... I'll tell you the sequence of events from our point of view," he says, tapping his fingers on his thigh as he retrieves the details from memory.

"Ivan and I were coming over from the Barrayaran courier jump-ship in a personnel pod. We docked into this dump of a freight bay. The Ba Lura, wearing a station employee uniform and some badly applied false hair, lumbered into our pod as soon as the lock cycled open, and reached, we thought, for a weapon. We jumped it, and took away a nerve disruptor and - a sparkly stick, of we knew not what origin or purpose. The ba shook us off and escaped, and I stuck the stick in my pocket till I could find out more. The next time I saw the ba it was dead in a pool of its own blood on the floor of the funeral rotunda. I found this unnerving, to say the least."
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"So that remains a mystery, but you have something, which, if it is the Great Key, needs to go back where it belongs as soon as possible. Will you let me check it?"

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"Which you will do... how, milady?"

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