She doesn't wind up taking the repeat; the end of the symphony without it has her playing the final chord when Lord Auditor Vorthys is nearer than anyone she's hoping to evade. She counts out the beats, holds for a moment longer, and then lifts her hands from the keyboard. She has decided that given her choice of titles she's going to address this particular guest as -
"Professor Vorthys."
"I suppose so. Although that must depend heavily on the generation, mustn't it? There is not literally constant warfare."
"Yes, but - um. I'm not sure we've ever managed to go an entire generation without a war, until this one."
"Maybe. I don't know very much, but I don't get the impression we've ever been an especially peaceful planet."
"Before I was born, too. I'm not trying to - it's just - if we were ever going to turn into a peaceful planet, I don't think that helped. I'm not trying to say it's your fault, or anything - that would be utterly silly - but it's something that happened. Part of our history."
"Really? I mean - I'm inclined to agree, but - counterproductive? Counter to what, um, production?"
"Any production worth producing. Even if the invasion had somehow, bloodlessly, overnight, acquired Barrayar, the integration project would have been -" Linya pauses, unable to think of a polite word for "a clusterfuck". She shakes her head in lieu of generating alternative vocabulary. "And even if the bloodless overnight acquisition was accompanied by seamless magical cultural integration, why? I don't think anyone involved was motivated by the desire to see Barrayar or Barrayarans grow and thrive. It doesn't have galactic strategic importance, there is nowhere to go from here but to turn around and leave the same way one comes in. Cetaganda isn't overwhelmingly hemmed in for need of living space; no one was planning to park excess proles on your excess wilderness and work diligently on converting the soil and beating back the native wildlife so they'd have a place to raise children or open clusters of restaurants or what have you. It just looked like an easy target to people with bad judgment, obviously, and the decisionmakers - were acquisitive, wanted to look accomplished to the people who judged them, didn't need a better reason and so didn't trouble to turn one up or pause for its lack."
"...that might be the most insightful analysis of the Cetagandan invasion I've ever heard," says Ekaterin, blinking. "I mean - I don't want to give the impression that it's competing with very much, but - I feel like I understand things that I didn't before."
"Yes. I... haven't heard very many people seriously thinking about, well, what the Cetagandans were thinking. I think."
"Some of them may have had more complex thought processes, but I guarantee a lot of them thought let's go conquer that technologically backward planet and we'll be home in time for lunch and the Emperor will give us the Order of Merit and a haut-wife apiece."
She giggles slightly. "Oh, dear. One is almost tempted to feel sorry for them. If it weren't for - the details of what they wre trying to do."
"I'm not particularly tempted. I'm reasonably sure that the same ghem-generals who didn't give a second thought to how the Barrayarans would feel about the matter also didn't spare a moment to wonder if their prospective wives were going to be willing participants."
"Well - yes. I just have an instinctive sympathy for people who make poor decisions thinking they will be rewarded, and get the opposite."
"Although it's possible I'd have less sympathy for stupidity if I had to endure more of it in close quarters than I've historically had to."