Cam on Barrayar
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"On the one hand, I must thank you for maintaining public order by not walking around with wings and a tail. On the other hand, I'm curious about what they looked like."

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"I'll show you if you like and if there's someplace to dispose of or burn them the next time I need to take them off."

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"...I have no objection, but it's not my house." He looks to Miles.

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"Oh, go ahead. If nothing else, I can mount them on a plaque and stuff them in the attic."

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Cam snorts. And takes off his shirt, and stands up, and -

appears his wings, dusky blue, five-"fingered" and spread out to full fourteen-foot span, and the tail, which goes down to his knees and ends in a tidy little barb, matched in color. He does a turn, and folds the wings (the tops go over his shoulders neatly), and wags the tail, and sits back down again.
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"That feels much better. You wouldn't believe how accustomed I've gotten to the extras. I didn't even add the tail until a few decades ago."

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"Well, I'm sure we can arrange for you not to have to go without them for too long on the way to Komarr."

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"Excellent. Here's hoping I don't get jumpsick."

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"Yes. Miles, I realize sending you to Komarr as a liaison is not an ideal plan..."

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"...but somebody has to do it and the list of people trustworthy enough to handle it and modern enough not to mind the wings and tail is full of people busier than I am," Miles finishes for him with a sigh.

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"The idea that this is a modernity thing is very strange to me, coming as I do from the twenty-second century."

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"Yes, well, Barrayar," says Miles.

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"Coming as I do from Earth, if you like."

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"If you came from our Earth you'd be at least somewhat more prepared for our planet's tangled history."

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"From what I've been able to gather, the timelines didn't diverge that much until well after the date of my death. Anyhow. I will not suffer terribly from being a wingless tailless creature whenever this is convenient."

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"Right, but you still need someone to generally interface between you and people who aren't prepared to hear that you're a magical demon from another universe, and that person might as well be someone who won't mind the optional anatomy. Hey, Gregor, can I steal Ivan for this?"

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Gregor blinks. "I don't see why not. Whatever for?"

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"I just have the feeling it might be handy to have someone around who'll do what I say without fussing too much. In case of Komarrans who won't touch me with a ten-foot pole, or whatever."

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"Who's Ivan and why does he do what you say?"

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"My cousin. Sort of thoughtless but generally helpful."

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"And he will not object to the optional anatomy either?"

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"He'll probably make some stupid remarks, but he won't run away weeping or start a riot or try to shoot you, and I expect he'll get used to it soon enough."

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"Okay. I am sort of curious about what sort of stupid remarks."

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"Well, you'll get to find out soon enough."

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