View Flat HTML
View Metadata
Search Post
Linya gradually feels her way around being proper friends with Ekaterin, not wishing to wreck things with a premature "will you be my Second at my duplicate wedding" request. There is companionable gardening. There is, when Linya and Jocelyn make an unexpected sudden breakthrough in causing the nibs to behave, which holds when they fabricate a prototype and test it out, a fountain pen for Ekaterin. (In addition to Miles's and Count Vorkosigan's. And one for Emperor Gregor, which has got to be worth all the R&D in advertising alone.) When Miles's legs are more or less completely healed, they skip off to Vorkosigan Surleau for a few days and he teaches her to fly a lightflyer, which she enjoys very much and picks up very quickly. Linya writes Miles a song. (It has no words, she doesn't feel up to lyrics, but it is very pretty and slightly different every time she plays/sings it.) With the nibs handled and all the Barrayaran languages learned Linya spends more time reading textbooks and signs up for a university placement exam to see how far ahead into advanced classes on various things she can skip, and awaits her results.
And snuggles her tiny Barrayaran.
+ Show First Post
isthisart
thisvorlunatic
"You could say that, yes. He's the top geneticist in the research arm of House Bharaputra's infernally infamous biolabs. When he deserts us the moment we make fleet rendezvous by Escobar and seeks refuge with an unnamed planetary government, we will be terribly offended that he took us in with his 'simple medtech recruit' ruse. Which should mollify Baron Bharaputra enough that he won't have his enforcement arm chase us down and wipe us off the astromap."
thisvorlunatic
"So I trust." So he hopes, more like. "Now go place our order. And since you were so keen on shore leave, you can accompany me to Baron Fell's next social gathering for high-paying and/or otherwise interesting customers. I imagine he'll fit me into his schedule sometime in the next day or so."
whyexit
"Ah, the soft cushy bits of the wretched hive," says Thorne. "Can't wait."
The soft cushy reception hall, when they get there - sooner than Miles's initial prediction - is very much both things, and also opulent to the point where their grey velvet dress uniforms are practically underdressing. It's populated by guests and servants, with the former cliquish and the latter obsequious. They are offered peculiar little beverages on a tray. Thorne is unsure whether to take one.
The soft cushy reception hall, when they get there - sooner than Miles's initial prediction - is very much both things, and also opulent to the point where their grey velvet dress uniforms are practically underdressing. It's populated by guests and servants, with the former cliquish and the latter obsequious. They are offered peculiar little beverages on a tray. Thorne is unsure whether to take one.
thisvorlunatic
"Why the hell not?" Miles murmurs under his breath. "I imagine poisoning your customers is a counterproductive business practice." He selects two refreshments at random, one mysterious green leaf-shaped niblet that turns out to be a dyed pastry with a jelly filling made from mystery fruit, and one mysterious drink that turns out to have too high an ethanol concentration for Miles's skewed metabolism. He discreetly leaves the small crystal goblet on the next flat surface they pass, afraid that a second sip might be enough to trigger the soporific effect that the substance has on him in any significant quantities. Mustn't meet Baron Fell while asleep on his feet.
sweet_song
And there begins a dizzyingly complex harmony, even more intricate than the most involved pieces Linya has been known to produce when in the mood for a challenge; there must be more than one player -
There isn't.
It's one woman, eyes closed, floating in a null-gee bubble with an instrument before her crisscrossed with wires on both sides of its flat wooden body. She's striking it with all four of her hands, fast and precise and lovely.
There isn't.
It's one woman, eyes closed, floating in a null-gee bubble with an instrument before her crisscrossed with wires on both sides of its flat wooden body. She's striking it with all four of her hands, fast and precise and lovely.
thisvorlunatic
"I'm relieved. I think," mutters Miles. "So where did she come from?"
whyexit
"Oh, about two hundred years ago, around when hermaphrodites were invented, there were all sorts of projects, in the wake of the development of the uterine replicator in its practical form. Later there were restrictive laws about it most places, but first someone thought they'd make freefall-dwellers. Only for artificial gravity to be invented. The quaddies migrated off beyond Earth relative to here, got rather insular, I'm very surprised there's one this far out."
sweet_song
The quaddie plays beautiful music, anyway.
Then her song ends and she opens her eyes, looking tense and sad when no longer buoyed by her song.
Then her song ends and she opens her eyes, looking tense and sad when no longer buoyed by her song.
whyexit
Thorne almost applauds, but no one else seems to be paying much attention to the performance; it would be the only one.
thisvorlunatic
An entire artificial division of humanity, rendered obsolete by technological advances almost in the very hour of their birth. The mind boggles.
Miles observes Thorne's thwarted impulse and suggests in an undertone, "Why not speak to her instead?"
Miles observes Thorne's thwarted impulse and suggests in an undertone, "Why not speak to her instead?"
whyexit
"Oh - I suppose," says Bel, smiling, and it approaches the grav-bubble. "Ah - hello."
sweet_song
The quaddie - vaults is not the right word for an action perfomed in null gravity, but at any rate goes over her instrument to float on the other side of it and be within comfortable speaking distance of Thorne. "Hello."
whyexit
"What do you call the instrument? It's fantastic," says Thorne, almost blurting it.
whyexit
"Captain Bel Thorne," supplies Thorne. "Of the Ariel, Dendarii Free Mercenaries. Enchanted. What brings a quaddie all the way out here?"
sweet_song
"Oh - you've heard of us? Most people think I'm - manufactured - I worked my way as far as Earth, and was looking for further employment. Baron Fell hired me."
whyexit
"I've heard of quaddies, yes - I'm, ah, a Betan hermaphrodite myself, have a bit of personal interest in the early genetics explosion. What's your name?"