When Miles arrives and sees the - fairly conclusive, in his opinion - evidence in question, he can't help smiling. Success.

"Good afternoon, Mister Naismith!" says Frank, smiling broadly at Miles with only a hint of watery eyes. Also with some - is that pride? That looks like pride. "I've updated grades for the week, essay included, with comments."

"Ooh, comments," says Miles.

Well if this is what happens when Miles tries to make Frank cry, clearly he should keep it up.

Twelve.

Ah, yes. Overachiever even here, aren't you.

Get used to it.

Happily!

"Excellent!" says Frank, pleased.

Ugh, no kidding. I'm tempted to destroy their cherished illusions of superiority.

They are indeed very Betan. It's very pissing me off. All the experience I drew on for that reading was gained on Beta Colony.

He smiles slightly. Thank you for your kind offer. I might feel the need to rant afterward if I make it through this whole class without verbally eviscerating these smug assholes. Should I meet your sister? Your sister sounds very cool, I would not at all mind meeting your sister.

I am available for ranting. And my sister mentioned wanting to meet you, and I mean. I like her. She is a good sister. But then I don't have any others to compare to her, so.

Well, then, by all means introduce me to your sister. I don't have another class after this either.

"LPSTs and contraceptive implants aren't some kind of inviolable magical charm against anyone ever having bad experiences with sex," says Miles, finally goaded into speaking up. "I think you're all vastly underestimating the complexity of the writer's intent if you interpret the poem as a straightforward assertion of universal fact. The point is not that it's like this for everyone all the time; the point is that it can be like this for many people some of the time. Regardless of the presence or absence of therapists."

"I mean, maybe it happens sometimes but it can't be as common anymore, the poem's lost a lot of the applicability in this modern age," says the loud student.

"Speak for yourself," he says, with an edged smile.

Miles snickers to himself.

Yvette quietly winces. At all of this. Augh.

Sorry, he messages her. Lost my temper a bit.

It's all right. I'm not upset with you, she clarifies. Nor do I disagree. Just the - situation is unpleasant. I wish you were not in a room full of Betans try to tell you that - I don't even know how to word it, 'We are better and so the things associated with this poem do not happen, you do not exist, all is well, the delusion is secure.'

I confess I actually kind of enjoyed the opportunity to make everyone in the room deeply uncomfortable.

I should probably be kinder to the poor sheltered Betans who don't know any better, but God, it's just so satisfying. If they insist on denying my experience then let them reap what they sow, you know?

Hm, I don't know. I'm more concerned about what they might take away from it? I'm worried that they will think it's Barrayar that is responsible for your experience, and use that to feed the delusion some more.

Unfortunately he didn't give me an opportunity to clarify, or I happily would have.

Why am I not surprised.

Presumably you're becoming familiar with my vicious sense of humour. I promise I'm much nicer when I'm not so miserable.

I have a wide selection of bad moods. Exercising my vicious sense of humour is more enjoyable than many of the alternatives, but I probably shouldn't give it as much free rein as I do, even so.

Probably not, no.

Oh well.

"Smug Betan assholes piss me off. End rant," snorts Miles. "All right, let's go collect Sergeant Bothari and find your arboretum."

"What a detailed and nuanced rant," says Yvette. "Where do we collect Sergeant Bothari?"

"He'll be waiting outside the school. He doesn't come in because the school premises are deemed sufficiently safe and it would kind of defeat the purpose of the semi-anonymity for me to go around to all my classes with a bodyguard."

"... I'm sorry, I just got a visual of Sergeant Bothari in an undersized chair in the corner over there looking very gruff and intimidating."

"He does a very good gruff and intimidating, doesn't he? But perhaps not if we crammed him behind one of these desks."

"It rather undercuts both," she agrees. "Good at them though he is."

And there is Sergeant Bothari, looming by the entrance.

Excellent. Yvette waves, because this seems like the thing to do, but lets Miles do the talking here.

"We're going to an arboretum to meet Yvette's sister," says Miles. Bothari nods, and that seems to be that. "Lead the way, Yvette."

"Hi," says Miles.

"Miles, meet my sister, Sabine Petra Vorlaine. Sabine, meet my new friend, Miles Naismith." Because she has heard the words 'information security' even if she's not an expert on the subject.

"Not at all," says Miles, omitting all mention of sex changes while Bothari is nearby. He's a little traditionally-minded sometimes; he wouldn't get it. "The impression I received was of an exemplary sibling."

"You'd admit to having them?" asks Yvette incredulously.

"Sure I would." Pause. "Like how I snore."

"For shame!" says Miles, and holds his reproving look for all of half a second before he cracks up.

Yvette snorts.

Miles giggles.

"A little bit," Miles admits.

"Me too," agrees Yvette.

"Excellent. Then we can fix this. Any preferences for the type of food, or should we wander around looking for something delicious? I don't care, personally."

Miles shrugs. "This is Beta Colony, whatever we find is bound to be inoffensive."

"That sounds like a challenge."

"Clearly," says Sabine, "I must now find you the most offensive food."

"Offensive to whom?"

"That has yet to be decided."

"Well it makes rather a lot of difference, doesn't it?"

"It does, but I don't want to limit myself before I have properly surveyed my offensive food options."

"You must pick the best of the best of offensive foods?"

"If I'm really trying for offensive I'll pick the worst. But I might have pity. You might get the best."

"As long as it isn't offensive to me. I've had enough of that for one day today already."

"I will offend other people," she assures him.

"Carry on, then."

"Yes, really, I have to feed my protective older sister instinct somehow!"

"Should I be alarmed?"

"No," assures Yvette.

"Do I seem alarming? I don't think I seem alarming."

"Different people doing the same things with approximately the same demeanour can be very different degrees of alarming. Just ask Yvette what happens when I visit a science museum."

"Oh, she already knows."

"Yep. I asked for entertaining details, it came up."

"Well, I'm glad I entertain you."

"Creeping out of sight it is." Pause. "Miles could go, though, if he wants to see... whatever it is you're going to do."

"I am fascinated to see whatever Sabine is going to do."

"No, that's fine," he says cheerfully. Unlike it was a minute ago, his accent is now unremarkably local.

Miles and his tall muscular shadow do indeed follow.

"Was that offensive enough for you, or should I go offend someone else?"

"Your offensiveness was entirely satisfactory," he says. (He hasn't dropped the Betan accent.)

"Yep! I got a discount."

"It was amazing to behold."