Cam is dipping a grilled cheese sandwich into a bowl of tomato soup when he feels the summons. He goes ahead and grabs it. Doesn't even drop the sandwich.
Thorne tells the helm. They get out of there.
Mark is practically bouncing. He did not know he was going to be this pleased about getting underway here.
Thorne decides on the way what kind of ship it wants. It's fast, it's compatible with the backup pilot's implants, it's sleek and shiny, and it takes a very compact type of fuel that Cam can easily make enough of to last years.
And they borrow the Ariel's backup pilot, who is very pleased by the shiny new ship, and go aboard what Thorne has dubbed the Prospero. The Ariel disengages and returns to Escobar with a considerable quantity of Mark's money, and the Prospero heads for Jackson's Whole.
The trip is not quite three full days, in this ship. Mark selects a cabin and then goes and finds Cam.
"I want to tell you as much as I can about Jackson's Whole, but I'm not quite sure where to start."
"I am if anything even less sure where you should start. Who's the fellow you have to avoid because Miles pissed him off?"
"Baron Ryoval. Political organization there, such as it is, divides into Houses ruled by Barons. Each House has one or more particular specialties or niches; Ryoval's is prostitution and custom-engineered bio-slaves. House Bharaputra does biologicals more generally; they're the primary supplier for the clone-transplant business. House Fell does weapons; Baron Fell is getting on in years, and might be our most eager customer if we can find him a trustworthy surgeon - the last clone he had commissioned was assassinated before the operation, so he is understandably cautious. I suspect I might know what Miles did to piss off Ryoval, actually; rumour has it that something catastrophic happened to the collection of tissue samples he uses to generate his wares, a few years back. Now that I know he's annoyed with Admiral Naismith about something, that rumour smells of a Miles-accident."
"When we show up and the pilot leaves with the shiny new ship, what are our options for finding places to park ourselves?"
He smiles.
"I'm actually toying with the notion of founding our own House. All you really need to found a Jacksonian House is money, guts, and a name no one else is using. And I'm reluctant to throw my own name around somewhere Admiral Naismith's presence has been felt; 'Baron Holmes', or whatever, would be a nice alternative."
"Cute. Why are you the baron instead of me, though? You can presumably go by a pseudonym that isn't preceded by a title."
"'Baron Holmes' gives me an identity that is related to neither Miles Vorkosigan nor Miles Naismith - an obviously assumed identity, but an implicitly permanent and unique one. A mere pseudonym would invite speculation that I was one or the other of them, almost certainly Naismith, undercover for reasons of his own. It is not healthy to be mistaken for someone Ry Ryoval has a grudge against, and it would be unfair to Miles to parade myself around as Mark Vorkosigan. And you don't have a hundredth of the background knowledge and cultural understanding you'd need to competently negotiate with other barons; the title would be wasted on you."
"I'm mostly wondering if being a baron is the sort of thing that tends to get you assassination attempts, which I can cope with better than you. If that's fine by you, eh, go for it."
"Of course it will," he says with a shrug. "Hm, come to think, I could use a personal nerve-disruptor shield net. A cleverly disguised one, especially. If you can produce one in my size; I don't think they come that way naturally and I'm not sure how much clever engineering work you can elide over."
"It's a very expensive full-body garment that defends the wearer against a certain common type of lethal or permanently disabling weapon," he says. "They can be made to fit under other clothing, but it's usually pretty easy to tell who's wearing one, if you know what signs to look for. You might have an easier time than usual coming up with a shield net and set of clothes that worked well together. And it wouldn't cost much to produce a second set with no hood for when I want to appear marginally more trusting."
"Sufficient information to single out a specific picture by non-contrived means, 'contrived' including things like 'the most recent one taken' or anything like that."
"Mm. Not sure I can deliver. You could make one in your size and stare at it to your heart's content," he suggests as an alternative.
"A sufficiently well-calibrated scanner will pick it up anyway, but there's no sense going around advertising it more than I need to," says Mark. "So I want something to wear over it that'll look natural."
"Now, how do these work? If the wires are this thick because the substance isn't sufficiently ductile, I can get it a lot thinner, maybe weave it into some normal fabric; if it needs to be shaped exactly like this all I'm thinking is heavy denim and leather."
Mark shrugs. "I'm not an engineer. I know that they exist, I know that they work, I know how to spot them, and that's as much as I know. I'm sure there are manuals somewhere, but I couldn't specify one."
The pilot announces over the comm: "Jump in five, gentlemen."
"Wormhole jumps are mildly unsettling for most people," says Mark. "Might want to be sitting down. If you're unlucky enough to get jumpsick, might want to have something to throw up in and somewhere to lie down afterward. If the jump feels like it lasts longer than a couple of seconds, or you get sensory aftereffects besides nausea, you might have jump pilot potential and we should look into finding a trustworthy neurosurgeon once we're rich enough to afford one."