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The following day, very little happens, except for Vorreedi mentioning that Yenaro has been arrested (by the civil police, for theft, on charges from a ghem-lord Miles has never heard of, as opposed to by Cetagandan security for treason).
Also, Ivan gets bored - with all the bodyguards Vorreedi now requires for them after the incident at the bioestheties exhibition, the possible spontaneity of going out with his ghem girlfriends is much reduced.
But the next day they get to attend the Singing Open of the Great Gates.
And oh, is there ever singing.
middlingalong
middlingalong
After half an hour of breathtaking music, the ghem choir moves to their next station. The haut-lady bubbles - great masses of them, hundreds - go in a separate direction from the delegation including the offworlders. There is a buffet, and then float-cars from there to the other side of the Garden.
And then there is more music and more food and more being trundled around, with no contact from the smooth little ba Linyabel has been sending to fetch him. However, there is a different ba, blonde-haired, who may be spotted talking in a low voice to Ivan.
Ivan follows it.
And then there is more music and more food and more being trundled around, with no contact from the smooth little ba Linyabel has been sending to fetch him. However, there is a different ba, blonde-haired, who may be spotted talking in a low voice to Ivan.
Ivan follows it.
thisvorlunatic
What.
Miles follows the both of them, as fast as he can manage, heedless of Vorreedi's looming supervision - the man has been counting his blinks all damn day, but right now Miles has larger concerns. Because as much as his secret fears might tell him that haut Linyabel is scouting Ivan as a possible replacement Barrayaran escape route, his rational mind is sure of the much more terrifying prospect that this new ba is not working for or with the Star Creche and Ivan is about to be kidnapped and/or assassinated by someone on Kety's side of the gameboard.
middlingalong
While the gardens here are not designed to be mazes, they do a creditable job of it, and Ivan has a head start and longer legs.
When Miles catches up, Ivan is with an unbubbled haut-chair, its back to Miles, and Ivan is looking at its occupant confused and fascinated and suspicious and enamored in equal measure. The ba is gone already.
A white-robed arm lifts to spray something in Ivan's face, and when Ivan collapses prone across the lady's lap, the bubble snaps back up and zooms away.
When Miles catches up, Ivan is with an unbubbled haut-chair, its back to Miles, and Ivan is looking at its occupant confused and fascinated and suspicious and enamored in equal measure. The ba is gone already.
A white-robed arm lifts to spray something in Ivan's face, and when Ivan collapses prone across the lady's lap, the bubble snaps back up and zooms away.
thisvorlunatic
Miles bolts after it - futilely; the bubbles aren't all that fast in absolute terms, but they can still bob along faster than he can run. He loses sight of it halfway through the shrubbery, and emerges shortly afterward onto one of the Celestial Garden's main walkways, where half a dozen visually identical white haut-bubbles are floating unhurriedly along the white-jade-paved path.
With a breathless growl, he turns and—stops just short of bouncing off Vorreedi.
"Vorkosigan, what the hell is going on? And where is Vorpatril?"
"I'm just about to go check on that right now," he says, trying without success to sidle out from under Vorreedi's hand on his shoulder. "Sir."
"Cetagandan Security had better know. I'll light up their lives if—"
"I don't think Security can help us on this one," Miles cuts in. "I think I need to talk to a ba servitor. Immediately."
Vorreedi frowns in puzzlement, and as a side effect loosens his grip on Miles, who promptly ducks past him back into the shrubbery. A red-uniformed guard in the black-white-red Imperial face paint is just visible in the distance, approaching them at a fast walk - not nearly bloody fast enough, in Miles's opinion; five minutes earlier he would have been a help, but now he is just one more obstacle. Miles ducks past him too, only hearing half of his "My lords, the pavilion is this way" speech; the guard falters slightly, and then seems to decide that Miles is headed in the right direction and stays to listen to Vorreedi's explanation that they have mislaid Lord Vorpatril and would appreciate his prompt return.
He encounters no ba on his way back to the latest refreshments pavilion, but once inside it, he spots an old bald one right away. Good; that's his favourite variety right now.
"Excuse me, Ba," he addresses it politely. "I must communicate immediately with the haut Lisbet Serise. It's an emergency."
The ba appears slightly puzzled, but leads him a short distance into an otherwise unoccupied service area, where it speaks into its wrist-com briefly. The result of this exchange is a surprised ba yielding its wrist-com to Miles and stepping out of earshot.
With a breathless growl, he turns and—stops just short of bouncing off Vorreedi.
"Vorkosigan, what the hell is going on? And where is Vorpatril?"
"I'm just about to go check on that right now," he says, trying without success to sidle out from under Vorreedi's hand on his shoulder. "Sir."
"Cetagandan Security had better know. I'll light up their lives if—"
"I don't think Security can help us on this one," Miles cuts in. "I think I need to talk to a ba servitor. Immediately."
Vorreedi frowns in puzzlement, and as a side effect loosens his grip on Miles, who promptly ducks past him back into the shrubbery. A red-uniformed guard in the black-white-red Imperial face paint is just visible in the distance, approaching them at a fast walk - not nearly bloody fast enough, in Miles's opinion; five minutes earlier he would have been a help, but now he is just one more obstacle. Miles ducks past him too, only hearing half of his "My lords, the pavilion is this way" speech; the guard falters slightly, and then seems to decide that Miles is headed in the right direction and stays to listen to Vorreedi's explanation that they have mislaid Lord Vorpatril and would appreciate his prompt return.
He encounters no ba on his way back to the latest refreshments pavilion, but once inside it, he spots an old bald one right away. Good; that's his favourite variety right now.
"Excuse me, Ba," he addresses it politely. "I must communicate immediately with the haut Lisbet Serise. It's an emergency."
The ba appears slightly puzzled, but leads him a short distance into an otherwise unoccupied service area, where it speaks into its wrist-com briefly. The result of this exchange is a surprised ba yielding its wrist-com to Miles and stepping out of earshot.
thisvorlunatic
"My cousin Ivan was just knocked out and hauled away in an unidentified haut-bubble," says Miles. "I assume this was not your doing."
exerce-imperia
"Indeed not... but I believe I can remedy it without much trouble," she says. "I will send a servitor for you shortly. Make whatever excuses to your people you deem appropriate. I doubt you will have multiple chances to escape them today."
thisvorlunatic
"...Quite," says Miles. He hands the ba back its comlink and returns to the pavilion, where Vorreedi awaits.
"Miles! There you are. What is going on?"
"Ivan... left with a lady," Miles simplifies. "If you'll allow me, sir, I believe I can retrieve him as discreetly as possible." And if Vorreedi won't allow him, he's damn well going anyway. Miles elects not to mention as much. "Trust my competence, if nothing else," he adds as the silence stretches.
"Discreet, eh? You've made some interesting friends here, Lord Vorkosigan. I'd like to hear a lot more about them."
"Soon, I hope," says Miles.
"Mm... very well. But be prompt."
"I'll do my best, sir," he promises falsely, and scurries out the open side of the pavilion before Vorreedi can change his mind.
"Miles! There you are. What is going on?"
"Ivan... left with a lady," Miles simplifies. "If you'll allow me, sir, I believe I can retrieve him as discreetly as possible." And if Vorreedi won't allow him, he's damn well going anyway. Miles elects not to mention as much. "Trust my competence, if nothing else," he adds as the silence stretches.
"Discreet, eh? You've made some interesting friends here, Lord Vorkosigan. I'd like to hear a lot more about them."
"Soon, I hope," says Miles.
"Mm... very well. But be prompt."
"I'll do my best, sir," he promises falsely, and scurries out the open side of the pavilion before Vorreedi can change his mind.
A float-car, driven by the usual little bald ba, approaches the paviliion. When it sees Miles, it swings closer and halts; the door opens. There is a bubble and an empty seat.
"Sir," says a red-clad guard, intent on making a nuisance of himself. "Galactic guests may not wander the Celestial Garden unaccompanied -"
"I require this man's attendance," says Linyabel's voice sharply from her bubble.
The guard doesn't look happy about it, but - nods.
"Sir," says a red-clad guard, intent on making a nuisance of himself. "Galactic guests may not wander the Celestial Garden unaccompanied -"
"I require this man's attendance," says Linyabel's voice sharply from her bubble.
The guard doesn't look happy about it, but - nods.
thisvorlunatic
Miles detects a smirk from the little bald ba as he climbs aboard.
The float-car is off as soon as he's aboard.
"Nadina didn't come back with her gene bank," Linyabel murmurs. "But her bubble did. The person in it was being watched but not closely enough, apparently."
"Nadina didn't come back with her gene bank," Linyabel murmurs. "But her bubble did. The person in it was being watched but not closely enough, apparently."
thisvorlunatic
Miles keeps his mouth shut on his first few responses, all more profane than practical; after a few seconds he manages, "Haut Vio, do we still presume? The hell's she want with Ivan?"
"Vio is a reasonable guess, yes, and I have no idea what she imagined she'd do with your cousin."
They find, as they approach their destination, five bubbles herding - four surrounding, one on top of - a sixth. The force-fields make unpleasant noises when they jostle. The ba drives the float car in after them, the door shuts behind the lot.
They find, as they approach their destination, five bubbles herding - four surrounding, one on top of - a sixth. The force-fields make unpleasant noises when they jostle. The ba drives the float car in after them, the door shuts behind the lot.
exerce-imperia
Standing in the Star Creche loading bay, on the inlaid stone floor that is the room's only concession to haut aesthetics, is Lisbet Serise in flowing white robes and out of her haut-chair. She looks calm and unruffled.
The five haut-herders retreat away from their prisoner, settle to the floor, and disembubble to reveal five consorts, haut Pel among them. The sixth bubble stays where it is, force-screen still stubbornly engaged.
"I suggest that you surrender now," says Lisbet. "Currently, you have a chance at mercy."
The five haut-herders retreat away from their prisoner, settle to the floor, and disembubble to reveal five consorts, haut Pel among them. The sixth bubble stays where it is, force-screen still stubbornly engaged.
"I suggest that you surrender now," says Lisbet. "Currently, you have a chance at mercy."
thisvorlunatic
Miles disembarks from the float-car and circles the assembled consorts to stand closer to Lisbet; he gets the sense that the bubble is facing her, and if and when it opens, he would rather be looking at the occupant(s) than at the back of a float-chair.
exerce-imperia
The haut Lisbet waits for a few more seconds, then pulls a pen-like object engraved with the red screaming-bird seal from her sleeve. When she points it at the recalcitrant bubble, the force-screen winks out and the float-chair within drops like a large expensive rock. Lisbet tucks the override control back in her sleeve and steps forward.
isthisart
Vio is in there, and with Ivan in her arms, supported awkwardly in one arm while the other holds a knife to his throat.
"Move against me," she hisses, "and your Barrayaran servitor dies."
Linyabel, debubbled but still in her silently floating chair, exits the float-car, out of sight of Vio. She makes a gesture at Miles that could be interpreted as, perhaps, stall, and makes for a door.
"Move against me," she hisses, "and your Barrayaran servitor dies."
Linyabel, debubbled but still in her silently floating chair, exits the float-car, out of sight of Vio. She makes a gesture at Miles that could be interpreted as, perhaps, stall, and makes for a door.
thisvorlunatic
Miles, half in obedience to this directive and half out of conveniently genuine indignation, squawks.
"Ivan? For heaven's sake! Ivan's not the man you want!"
"Ivan? For heaven's sake! Ivan's not the man you want!"
isthisart
Linyabel gets out of the room without alerting Vio.
"What?" asks Vio darkly.
"What?" asks Vio darkly.
thisvorlunatic
"Agh!" he exclaims, pacing agitatedly next to Lisbet. "What did you think? That because he's taller, and, and cuter, he had to be running the damn show? It's the haut way, isn't it? You bloody Cetagandan nincompoops, I'm the brains of this outfit! I've been onto you from Day One! But no, of course it had to be Ivan. Nobody ever takes me seriously!" He throws up his hands. "So you went and kidnapped the wrong man - you just blew your cover for the sake of grabbing the expendable one!"
Vio seems transfixed, nearly as paralyzed as the Vorpatril in her arms. Her erstwhile sheepdogs nearly as much so.
thisvorlunatic
Great, now where the hell is Linyabel? Miles keeps going.
"It's been like this since we were little kids, y'know? Whenever the two of us were together, they'd always talk to him first, like I was some kind of idiot alien who needed an interpreter. And I! Am! Sick of it!"
"It's been like this since we were little kids, y'know? Whenever the two of us were together, they'd always talk to him first, like I was some kind of idiot alien who needed an interpreter. And I! Am! Sick of it!"
isthisart
And at this climactic juncture, Linyabel reappears and stuns Vio neatly. The knife twitches spasmodically in her hand.
thisvorlunatic
Miles bolts forward to catch Ivan as he slumps out of the unconscious haut-woman's lap, caught by the nimbus of the stun. The alarming red line along Ivan's neck proves to be just a surface cut; Miles presses his handkerchief to it and asks of whoever might be listening, "Stun on top of whatever drug-mist she knocked him out with - is he in medical danger?"