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Time goes by. Linya, who already quietly turned nineteen, turns twenty. She collects an accelerated master's degree in neuroscience and starts corresponding with various people on the subject.
Pens spread out; the next time Miles sees Elli he gets a white standard-model pen she bought him on Escobar. She has one too; it's silver. She loves it and thanks him for recommending it to her. (She has bought a whole boxful to unload at a markup on the next planet or station she comes to that doesn't have them yet, but doesn't explicitly mention this in case he objects to her cutting into Lady Vorkosigan's margins.)
Miles also has one actual courier mission in there, just escorting a diplomatic pouch from Pol back home, to pad his service record for the less-cleared eye.
There is a visit to a clinic to collect and mystically join gametes, and Linya collects the resulting assembly in data format for editing. She does the grey eyes first and estimates that if she doesn't particularly hurry she'll have a Little Aral What-the-Heck-Should-His-Middle-Name-Be all ready to put in a replicator in two or three years, though she can accelerate that considerably if something comes up urgently requiring the presence of Little Aral sooner rather than later.
And then Miles gets sent off again and is gone for a very long time.
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isthisart
thisvorlunatic
Miles firmly suppresses his grin.
"Ivan is an innocent party. Charge me as you wish."
"Ivan is an innocent party. Charge me as you wish."
"Your kind permission is much appreciated, Lieutenant."
thisvorlunatic
"What would you have done?" he snaps. "The Dendarii are my responsibility - as much the Emperor's troops as any who wear his uniform. I can't, I won't abandon them in their desperate need, merely to play the part of Lieutenant Vorkosigan."
"Play the part of Lieutenant Vorkosigan? Who do you claim to be?" asks Galeni, startled.
"Have you misplaced yourself?" wonders Galeni.
thisvorlunatic
"I... look, sir, in a way Lieutenant Vorkosigan is just a - part. The cover for my role as Admiral Naismith. It's just that for as long as they never appeared within light-years of each other, the two sets of duties never came into conflict. Now that they have... it's apparent to me that the lieutenant must, excuse me, be subordinate to the admiral. Please, sir, I need some kind of rational arrangement through which to attend to Naismith's responsibilities."
Galeni sighs heavily.
"When," he says, "Naismith's duties call - come to me first, Lieutenant Vorkosigan. Consider yourself on probation. I'd confine you to quarters and tell your wife not to visit, but the ambassador has specifically requested you for escort duties this afternoon and I suspect Lady Vorkosigan could likewise get the ambassador to request you for herself if I inconvenienced her... But be aware that I could have made serious charges. Disobeying a direct order, for instance."
"When," he says, "Naismith's duties call - come to me first, Lieutenant Vorkosigan. Consider yourself on probation. I'd confine you to quarters and tell your wife not to visit, but the ambassador has specifically requested you for escort duties this afternoon and I suspect Lady Vorkosigan could likewise get the ambassador to request you for herself if I inconvenienced her... But be aware that I could have made serious charges. Disobeying a direct order, for instance."
thisvorlunatic
"I am very aware, sir," he says. He considers bringing up Ivan again, and then decides against it.
"Dismissed."
thisvorlunatic
"Yes, sir."
Off he goes, hopefully to avoid talking about himself in the third person again for the rest of the day. That was deeply surreal. Who is he, really? Hell.
Off he goes, hopefully to avoid talking about himself in the third person again for the rest of the day. That was deeply surreal. Who is he, really? Hell.
The party that afternoon celebrates the visit of a religious/political figure from offplanet, there to do religious and political things; Miles is attached to one of this august personage's wives. A delivery error leaves everyone void of translation earbugs. Speeches are delivered after the replacement earbugs appear, and then the party begins to fizzle. The lady Miles escorts is swept off by her co-wives, and then -
"Mon Dieu," says the reporter who interviewed Naismith. "It's the little admiral. What are you doing here?"
"Mon Dieu," says the reporter who interviewed Naismith. "It's the little admiral. What are you doing here?"
thisvorlunatic
"I beg your pardon, ma'am?" says Miles politely, while his internal monologue jumps up and down and screams foul curses.
"Admiral Naismith," she says, and squints at his uniform. "Or something. Covert operation?" she wonders in tones of fascination.
thisvorlunatic
Miles lets the startled terror he felt on first seeing her dawn slowly on his face. "My God," he says. "Admiral Naismith - do you mean to imply you've seen the man? Here, on Earth?"
"And so have you, I must assume, in your mirror," says the reporter.
thisvorlunatic
He stands sharply at attention, as straight as his crooked spine allows, and bows to her with exquisite aristocratic formality.
"Excuse me, ma'am," he says in his thickest Barrayaran accent, even throwing in a hint of buried Vorkosigan District hill dialect. "I am Lieutenant Lord Miles Vorkosigan of Barrayar. The man you name - if you have seen him, I must ask you to tell me everything. He is of the greatest interest to Barrayaran Imperial Security."
Yeah, because he bloody works for them... please, please, please buy it, lady. Miles resists the urge to feel his eyebrows for lingering scorch marks or fidget with his bandaged hand.
"Excuse me, ma'am," he says in his thickest Barrayaran accent, even throwing in a hint of buried Vorkosigan District hill dialect. "I am Lieutenant Lord Miles Vorkosigan of Barrayar. The man you name - if you have seen him, I must ask you to tell me everything. He is of the greatest interest to Barrayaran Imperial Security."
Yeah, because he bloody works for them... please, please, please buy it, lady. Miles resists the urge to feel his eyebrows for lingering scorch marks or fidget with his bandaged hand.
She's not buying it. She looks him up and down. "I'd imagine they know plenty about him already, as you're one and the same."
thisvorlunatic
"Come, come over here," he says, herding her into a private corner even as he instinctively seeks out escape routes. Running from this problem will not solve it - quite the opposite.
"Of course we are the same," he runs on, with no idea where he is going with the idea. "Admiral Naismith is—" Is what?
Oh. Oh.
"—my clone," he finishes smoothly. Buy that, why don't you.
"Of course we are the same," he runs on, with no idea where he is going with the idea. "Admiral Naismith is—" Is what?
Oh. Oh.
"—my clone," he finishes smoothly. Buy that, why don't you.
"What?" She is now fascinated more than skeptical.
thisvorlunatic
"My clone," he reiterates, now that he has the thread of the lie. "Truly an extraordinary copy. We suspected initially that he was a Cetagandan creation, escaped from the failure of some intricate plot. They certainly have the resources to accomplish such a thing, and at the time... well. We were never able to prove it, and relations between our empires have improved since Naismith's first appearance; I will not insult them by suggesting they would do such a thing," except for the part where he absolutely just did. Well, it'll add verisimilitude. "Who are you, by the way?"
"Lise Vallerie, Euronews Network." She displays her press credentials.
thisvorlunatic
"The news services," he says, with an expression of entirely real concern. "Excuse me, ma'am—" he gives her that bow again. "I must not speak with you without first securing permission from my superiors." Ha, ha.
"No - wait - Lord Vorkosigan - oh, are you any relation to that Vorkosigan...?"