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"Miles mentioned the pretend divorce in his report, briefly. It sounded like... a spectacle."

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"It was certainly that. I don't actually know if he has the authority to imbue himself with the necessary power to undo the ceremony with the groats, but he has no such power over the Cetagandan arrangement, anyway. And if they'd let me go - I'd convinced them to give my pen back first. In a block of ice so I couldn't call the police on them soon enough to matter, supposedly - they thought to ask if it was waterproof but not if it was strong enough to withstand me simply breaking through the ice, but I didn't get that far into my contingency plans. Oh, and," she adds, "while I was being haut at Cetagandans, Mark was pretending to be Miles for reasons of costuming and disparate amounts of time having practiced each role - they later found it expedient to appear together. And in the end Mark was released into the tubeway with a pocketful of cash and a reminder that he has a family if he wants one."

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"Mark... is a problem whose solution is not yet apparent to me. But having him quietly followed for the rest of his natural life seems like a decent start."

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"You can tell him apart from Miles with a medical scanner if he reverts to the level of his training," she says. "I plan to do this routinely once Miles is home again. I don't pretend that I can stop you from having Mark stalked on top of that, but I decline to conversationally endorse it."

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"If he reverts to the level of his training there are many things he could do which a medical scanner would not adequately solve."

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"Of ways to carry out his creators' ultimate agenda, 'impersonate Miles' is but one, and it wouldn't necessarily be the most effective one even if telling them apart were much more difficult than it is. What worries me is not so much the prospect of a substitute Miles as the prospect of someone with Miles's potential and Miles's drive and a relationship to Barrayar with the same depth and complexity as Miles's, but considerably less positive and devoid of loyalty."

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"I do not think that you can improve the positivity and loyalty situation by having him followed, but again, I can hardly stop you."

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He shrugs.

"So. And is there any other insight you can offer me into Miles's motivations?"
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"I think I will omit some of his colorful descriptions thereof for the remote possibility that he thinks better of them before he gets here to talk to you in person. But he is no longer willing to enshroud himself in secrecy because you think my positivity and loyalty with respect to Barrayar is suspect. And he wishes Mark all the best, although it's possible he will disagree with me about the following - he will know better than I on two counts if it can be done discreetly enough to avoid antagonizing Mark."

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"His feelings about Mark were... strongly hinted at in his report."

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"He seems inclined to go all-in on the 'brother' interpretation."

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"So I gathered. In a document in which not a single military rank went unabbreviated, he wrote out 'Lord Mark Pierre Vorkosigan' in full. Twice."

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"It doesn't surprise me a bit."

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"Which? The brotherly affection, or the ways he chose to express it?"

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"Either. I imagine there are ways Mark could have sabotaged the fledgeling brotherly affection, but he didn't. He even apologized before he shot me."

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"How... incongruously polite of him."

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"A bit, yes. He wanted to know later during the part where I was tied to a chair if I was angry at him. I told him I was a little frustrated but not angry."

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"Hm."

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"Oh - nigh-unrelatedly - when I was being haut at Cetagandan assassins I suggested that I could also choose to be offended if they killed my husband's clone, on the grounds that the haut-wife ceremony is principally about genetics. I don't know how much that will slow them down, of course."

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"I imagine it will slow them down at least a little bit. Thank you."

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"You're welcome."

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Six weeks later, Elli hauls Miles down to the surface of Barrayar to be seen by dirtside doctors for his completely shattered arm.
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Miles is less than pleased about this. True, the surgical stun deletes all sensation including pain from both his arms, but it's not considered medically necessary to put him under for the operation, so he has to sit there totally immobilized while a swarm of surgeons - all right, two, but they feel like a swarm - carefully peel apart his right hand and arm to extract his pulverized bones therefrom. There is no hope of piecing them back together into something his body could hope to heal on its own, no matter how much electro-stim was applied, so Miles gives his consent for all the bones in both arms to be replaced by synthetics. The left arm is merely fractured in a couple of places, and is a breeze by comparison. Then they seal him back up, bandage up both his arms into total immobility, and leave him in his hospital bed to become bored and flat. Bored, flat, and in pain. Just because he doesn't have any other broken bones doesn't mean the rest of him is totally undamaged.

He is extremely surprised when his first visitor is not Mother or Linya, but Simon Illyan, a scant hour after the surgeons finally leave him alone.

"...Hi, boss."
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"You look like hell," Illyan observes. "Defrosted with median expertise. Don't bother saluting."

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