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"I will do my best. I'll go find somewhere else to be while you break the news to Linyabel." He takes a turn that does not lead to their quarters.

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So Miles proceeds back to their quarters alone. And is his wife still there?

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Sitting on his bed, penning something.

"That didn't take too long."
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"Good news: I'm not going to be arrested. Bad news: Only because I just received urgent orders from Simon Illyan to ship out with the Dendarii and deal with a hostage situation in Sector IV. So this is me changing my uniform for the umpteenth time, reading my orders, and then heading topside to gather my mercenaries and go. If Bel Thorne hasn't already cancelled its contract to transport your neuroscientist, it will soon. And I'll be a minimum of a month getting out and back, even if all we do is show up, knock some pirates' heads together, and turn around again the same day."

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"Will I get a refund on my retainer?" she sighs. She waves her med scanner at him and then, satisfied that he hasn't been replaced in the last fifteen minutes, scoops him up for a quick hug.

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"Was it in your contract?" he inquires, kissing her on the cheek.

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"The wording was actually a little ambiguous on that point, which I suppose was a mistake. I can spare the money if Captain Thorne opts to make a fuss about it."

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"If it's all the same to you, I'd rather my Dendarii keep it. Although if we do swing back through Sol system on our way out of Sector IV, I wouldn't object at all to splitting off the Ariel for a nice safe mission to Komarr. I could even ride along. So if you're still convincing him in a month..."

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"I don't expect it to take that long. I caught him packing some things last week."

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"Ah, well."

He kisses her again and fishes his Dendarii grey-and-whites out of wherever he last stuffed them. Something falls out of a jacket pocket.

Miles stares at the floor in amazement.

"Where did that little shit learn to pick pockets like that?" he exclaims, scooping up his grandfather's knife in its lizardskin sheath.
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Linya giggles.
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"He took the credit chit I'd planned to give him anyway when we were getting into the aircar, and taunted me about it immediately afterward, and with everything else going on I didn't even remember he hadn't given the knife back, but come to think of it he wasn't wearing it when he got out to get on the tube..." Miles shakes his head. "Hell. I hope we get to see him again someday."

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"Sure, that would be nice under some circumstances... hopefully it won't be via this little thing chirping at me," she says, patting her scanner.

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"I'm reasonably confident it won't. I mean... what did he say to you in your interrogation, anyway?"

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"A variety of things... He said he was looking for a better way to die than becoming emperor of Barrayar. I wound up suggesting we throw him at the assassins after Naismith. It didn't take, as you probably noticed."

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Miles starts changing uniforms.

"He was... very, very weird, in mine. All over the place, mentally and conversationally speaking. But one of the things I remember most clearly is that he asked me how I survived touching you."
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"He was still puzzled about that by the time he talked to me. I told him that if I weren't tied to a chair I would hold out a hand in his direction and see what he'd do with it. He wound up untying one to make the experiment, and he looked at me like I'd electrocute him and dithered about how to react, then shook my hand. And then I had one hand untied for most of the rest of it but didn't think of anything clever to do with that."

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"Yeah. I don't know. He seemed... very aware of his position as Fake Miles, when we were all down in the seawall - do you know what I mean?"

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"I'm not sure if I do."

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"Well. 'That one's your husband', for example. And, I don't know, the way he acted around you in general."

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"He put on a convincing act for the ghem we spoke to. And I was glad for the pointer to which of you was which. Ivan seems to be able to tell - I need this." She gestures at the scanner.

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"Ivan can apparently tell by the fact that Mark seems to like him more than I do."

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"I have the impression that you and Ivan have decided that amongst yourselves a sufficient level of trust completely obviates the need for actual affection."

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"That's one way to put it."

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"Anyway. You have things to do that aren't listen to me analyze the relationship between you and Ivan."

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