"So that has slowed down progress on Little Aral - a combination of working on a little program Dr. Cheung wants and seeing, well, Earth, has been diverting my attention. But I did a little bit yesterday - little postural tweaks; the heirloom human spine has not had enough time to evolve the long way into something that doesn't torture its owner. I'm saving all the revisions you haven't looked at yet separately in case you don't like one."

"Oh, I know from torturous spines," he murmurs, smiling crookedly. "I love you. Hey, here's a totally non-classified subject we can both contribute to - what's Little Aral's middle name going to be?"

"Good question. If one departs from tradition there - by choice or in this case necessity - is it still customary to name them after someone?"

"Not especially. We don't even have to make it a Barrayaran name particularly, if something from some other planet catches your eye, although of course I can't pretend anyone will be happy if we name him something that sounds recognizably ghem - or recognizably haut to anyone who can recognize haut names."

"Which is how many people?" she wonders. "But no, I wasn't going to suggest, say, my constellation-selector's name or anything like that. I find it rather aesthetically displeasing even if not paired with 'Aral', which doesn't improve it. Hmm. It's a pity Gavril is named, well. Gavril."

"Yeah, 'Aral Gavril' doesn't have much to recommend it. Hmm... halfway decent-sounding Barrayaran names that I can't attach offhand to any ancestors or friends... Aral Casmir? Aral Radmir? Aral Emil? Aral Raoul? Aral Noel? Aral Michel? Aral Joslin? Aral Evard? Aral Renard? Aral Loren? Aral Sergi? Aral Milan? Aral Adri? Aral Valory? Aral Tybalt? Aral Vasily?"

"Hmm, of those I'm most tempted by Adri. And it alliterates."

Miles giggles. "That it does! I wouldn't mind a Valory or a Tybalt or a Loren or a Raoul or a Casmir, but I suppose the second son's first name is also an open slot, if we get around to having one... what do you think? Raoul Antoly? Loren Antoly? Tybalt Antoly doesn't sound great unless I switch pronunciations, Tibble instead of Tiball... are we having a second son, do you suppose? Well, maybe better not get ahead of ourselves before we've had the first one."

"I would like to see how the first goes before cooking up a sibling, yes. Loren is a nice name, but where are you getting Antoly?"

"Oh. Did I not mention that when I was talking about the naming custom...? Well, right, if my grandfather hadn't choked on it I'd be Piotr Miles after my father's father Piotr Pierre and my mother's father Miles Mark. But if I had a brother, he'd be Mark Pierre. The second son gets the leftover names in sort of a reverse order. My father's middle name is Antoly, so our first son is Aral Whatsisface - Aral Adri, if you like - but our second son is Whatsisface Antoly. Little Aral Adri can be the second example that founds a proud tradition of alliterative Vorkosigans."

Nuzzle. "Aha. This must pile up into bewildering genealogy projects, mustn't it?"

"God, you have no idea."

"Well, I suppose I'll change the filenames for the project, then, if we've settled on 'Adri'. I like it." She produces her pen and gestures lazily through the air, summoning up a project folder and changing all references to 'Little Aral' into 'Aral Adri' instead.

"Oh, pens," sighs Miles, cuddling up. "I miss my pen. Left the bloody thing on Barrayar."

"Well, if you want an interim one, I can scare one up for you, although it won't be your pretty fountain version and I don't have a full selection of colors on this planet."

"What selection of colours do you have?"

"The demos are all black. Ivan has one, now," she adds. "He met a girl who did holo art and had nothing intelligent to say and begged one of the demos off me last month in case he finds her again and she wants to be allowed to draw things in midair."

"Oh, Ivan," snorts Miles. "Right. I'll take black, then, I guess. I love you." He makes a halfhearted effort to sit up, then desists in favour of finding Linya's hand and kissing that.

"I love you too."

"—For fuck's sake!" yells Miles, sitting bolt upright and glaring at the intruders with sufficient force he is surprised neither catches fire on the spot.

"By being my fucking wife," Miles snaps. As an afterthought, he adds, "Sir."

"I spent a quarter-hour producing my anniversary and everything else from Miles's file your security could think to ask of me to confirm it," Linya adds, petting Miles's hair. "And then one of them remembered Ivan having mentioned me, as I have been on this planet for some time now and spoken with my cousin-in-law a few times since arriving. And then I came in and as you can see I have not assassinated my husband this occasion of being in a room with him. We have been discussing middle names for a forthcoming child, Captain, I assure you it's harmless unless you really don't like double initials."