"Okay, yes."

"WHOA. Whoa how did you do that?" asks Nika, breaking into a run towards the bar and falling over in the process.

"Thanks." He turns to Nika. "You okay there? This is a magic bar. She makes things appear, and she's a person; those are how she is magic. Her name is Bar."

"I bet that's going to be some of the best hot chocolate you've ever had," says Miles, and then he climbs onto a stool himself and begins attempting to compose this note.

"What're you going to write?" inquires Nika. There is whipped cream on her nose.

"I'm trying to figure that out. You have whipped cream on your nose."

"Okay," says Nika. "Hmmm. I think most everybody else is busy. You'll have to do it yourself. But you have all that experience, writing notes."

"Yep," he says. "I just need a little time to think, is all."

Miles, meanwhile, writes.

Nika, through despairing of Ivan's life choices, climbs up on the stool next to him to peek.

"Excuse me," he says, moving the half-finished note away from her. "It's not polite to look at a letter someone's writing without their permission."

"But I'm gonna deliver it."

"Yes," he says. "I deliver a lot of letters working as a courier for Uncle Simon, and I'm not allowed to read hardly any of them."

"Isn't it about my little brother, though? Not about - Uncle Simon things."

"It's about your little brother and some other things I thought of that I want your parents and Uncle Simon to know about," he says. "There are a few Uncle Simon things in it."

"Oh," sighs Nika, and she climbs down and gets Big Ivan to deal her in on whirligig.

Mother, Father (and Simon, and miscellaneous ImpSec analysts I'm sure):

Hello from the year 2998 standard. How's the Komarran Revolt going? Is David Galen dead yet? If he is, assuming these events hold true in your world: (a) he isn't, and (b) shortly he's going to scurry off to Jackson's Whole and clone me for nefarious purposes. Lord Mark turned out astonishingly well, given his childhood. I can only assume he'll do even better if you manage to rescue him nice and early, although given Lord Mark, that may not be a perfectly safe assumption.

By the way, if David Galen's son should grow up and one day decide to join the Imperial Service (approximately thirty seconds after you started letting in Komarrans, as far as I can tell), he will be an impeccably loyal officer. You couldn't ask for better. No need to worry about activating your retirement, Simon. You are right in this as in all things, Da.

What else should I tell you...

It would be a very, very good idea to let me know who Elena's mother was, and how, before any trips to Beta Colony I might take when I'm seventeen. You might consider telling her, too, but I'm the one whose stupid decision will be averted by this knowledge. Around the same time... have a care for Grandda's health. Not that I think there's anything much you or anyone could have done differently.

I am safe and well, having survived all of my miscellaneous childhood adventures and then the ones that came after. You may not find this an adequate reassurance after little Miles learns to run, but it's the best one I've got.

There's more I want to say, but I'm hesitant... I have no more secure method of communication available to me at this moment (sorry, but who memorizes what the standard ciphers were when they were five? Not even you, Simon, I bet) and a lot of the things I could tell you will do more harm in others' hands than they will do good in yours. Also, I have a moderate suspicion that this letter will be read by a four-year-old before it reaches you.

Not to mention that I have no idea just how much of my past will closely resemble your future, because in my own world, I have never had a sister.

All my love,
Lieutenant Lord Miles Naismith Vorkosigan