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Ivan is asleep when it happens, but the captain knocking on his door gets him up quick enough. "What? Where's the fire?" Ivan asks. This was supposed to be a quiet posting. Well, the posting on Earth was supposed to be quiet too, cultural, etcetera, but Xerxes is supposed to be downright boring. Ivan is not supposed to be awakened from his eight hours unexpectedly.
"Murder, not a fire. You're cousin to Lord Mark Vorkosigan, aren't you?" says the captain.
Ivan has to think for a second. "...Yes?"
"Security vid picked him up within radius of a murder. This is the first we knew of him being on the planet, but the locals want us to bring him in so they don't have to it themselves and risk mishandling a Vor lord. Seemed worth consulting you on him - the file on him's really something."
Ivan blinks. "You need to arrest Mark."
"Yes."
"...Sir. Uh, give me a while to try doing it myself. He's... I'm not positive I can succeed but I am pretty sure I can survive trying, and unless he's in a cooperative mood I'm very uncertain anybody else can say the same thing."
"He may have just killed a man."
"I'm aware. He likes me. He doesn't know you from a hole in the ground, or anybody else within fetching distance, sir. Give me his last location and a few hours? Please?"
"By yourself?"
"He wouldn't know anybody you could send with me from a hole in the ground."
The captain chews his lip. "None of your shenanigans, all right?"
"Sir, I'm not the shenanigans one, it's just contagious when m'co- my other cousin's around. I'll see if I can find him, if I find him I'll try to bring him back."
The captain eventually acquiesces. And that is why Ivan is tromping around downtown, debating whether or not to call "Mark? Mark?" like he's looking for a lost dog.
Ivan has to arrest Mark
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middlingalong
middlingalong
"Mkay. Are you relatively conventional about what things're startling or do I need to - turn off the comconsole audio alerts or something?"
unmarred
"Finding things in my personal space that I didn't expect there is the heart of the problem. I'm mostly indifferent to noises."
middlingalong
"So if I need to wake you up unexpectedly I should not haul on your shoulder and throw a coffee bulb at your head?"
unmarred
"Correct. You'd probably survive the attempt if you did, but I can't guarantee it. If I am so unwakeable that you must throw things at me, do it from the other side of a door which you immediately close."
middlingalong
And here is the embassy. Ivan gets them in the doors, confirms that captain's suspicion that Lord Mark would prefer to interface with Lieutenant Vorpatril alone even outside of fast-penta contexts, and receives an allergy test patch and a hypo and a room.
"Well, as far as I know, this place isn't wired, and they wouldn't have had much time to change it," says Ivan, when they are alone in the room. "Good enough?"
"Well, as far as I know, this place isn't wired, and they wouldn't have had much time to change it," says Ivan, when they are alone in the room. "Good enough?"
middlingalong
"Right then, pick an arm -" Pause. "Do you still have the touching people thing? 'M not sure I can avoid it if I'm going to be administering you drugs."
unmarred
"Go ahead," he says, offering Ivan an arm. It's not exactly an answer, but it's evidently intended as one.
unmarred
No reaction to the patch test from Mark's arm, and no reaction to the contact from Mark.
middlingalong
"Congratulations, you are not allergic to fast-penta. I'll try not to get you started on any poetry in case you're not-allergic in the same way as Miles."
Hypo.
Hypo.
unmarred
"So he did mention that to you. It was frankly hilarious to watch," he says, grinning reminiscently. "My private theory is that Miles's fucked-up metabolism isn't or isn't primarily genetic, though. I guess we're about to receive some evidence... I don't feel inclined to bounce off walls or start reciting Shakespeare. 'Now is the winter of our discontent made glorious summer by this sun of York'... no."
unmarred
"Ten nine eight seven six five counting is boring two one. Right scansion, wrong words, must I try again or are you satisfied?"
unmarred
"I always blank out on that one first, and then sometimes a little voice in the back of my head says 'Miles', and I want to kill him but I did that already, nothing left but the echoes... Lord Mark Pierre Vorkosigan."
middlingalong
"You're just full of commentary. Okay..." Ivan peers at his little instructional sheet, which instructs him to ask several verifiable facts. "Uh, how tall are you?"
unmarred
"Four foot nine and a pinch. I wonder how tall I would have been? I'm sure it's possible to find out. Shouldn't, though, it'd upset Miles."
unmarred
"Ha. Bharaputra Labs, Jackson's Whole. It feels like the answer is London, Earth, though. Spiritually if not factually, perhaps."