Security has decided to be deeply unhelpful today. She is currently showing them various forms of ID and repeating in a slow, patient voice that she has been here before, there is not more than one of her, and she promises she is not there to assassinate her husband or whatever fool thing has them skittish today. Perhaps she shouldn't drop in while the captain's missing; it seems to make them worse. But she got in before while he was missing...
"Neuro...science? I honestly wasn't completely clear. But besides the holo-pens I think her main research interest is life extension, so he's probably related to that."
"Well, it's not literally because she is married to a mere heirloom human, I just happen to be a particularly relevant example. She wants life extension for everyone."
"It's not like she proposes to grow everyone Jacksonian body transplants. Is neuroscience just creepy by itself, without any attached details?"
"I don't suppose that, I don't know, those scans they do to see if you've cracked, are particularly creepy by themselves? But the kind that could make you live longer maybe."
"Well, let's see... what about better research into the effects of cryopreservation on brains, preventing the glitching you sometimes get on revivals? That's life-extending, sort of, in some circumstances, and I don't think it's that creepy."
"Maybe I'll ask her. Sometime when I've got half an hour to kill waiting for her to be done answering me."
"She's not that long-winded, is she? Or is my time perception skewed on the subject?"
"Your time perception is absolutely untrustworthy. She'd let me go but only after rolling her eyes, probably - you go on about her without seeming to notice as the sun rises and sets six times comically in the background -"
The door to their workroom opens. There are some local police.
"We have," one of them says, "a detention order for Miles Vorkosigan. Please come with us, sir."
"Yeah? Do you have it signed by the Emperor of Barrayar?" says 'Miles Vorkosigan', rather pointedly.
Ivan doesn't say anything incriminating, but he blinks with sufficient bewilderment to prompt further explanation: "Via the hijacking of a float-truck at the shuttleport last week."
He gets out of his chair and allows the policemen to escort him out.
Which makes it a very confused Ivan who encounters Miles and Galeni when they return to the embassy.
"Ivan!" says Miles, looking like seven kinds of absolute hell and sporting four days' beard growth he didn't have two hours ago. "We've come to arrest me. Where was I last seen?"