singing open the great gates

[middlingalong]

The following day, very little happens, except for Vorreedi mentioning that Yenaro has been arrested (by the civil police, for theft, on charges from a ghem-lord Miles has never heard of, as opposed to by Cetagandan security for treason).

Also, Ivan gets bored - with all the bodyguards Vorreedi now requires for them after the incident at the bioestheties exhibition, the possible spontaneity of going out with his ghem girlfriends is much reduced.

But the next day they get to attend the Singing Open of the Great Gates.

And oh, is there ever singing.

Comments

[isthisart]

Linyabel woggles her pen in a way that causes the "screen" it projects to appear totally white, although she's obviously still able to see something in it and seems like she's taking notes.

"I'm not a sleeper agent, a biological Trojan horse, or anything else more complicated than being - Cetagandan, haut, myself," says Linyabel, shrugging gracefully. "But if those characteristics turn out to be more of a disaster than you anticipate - I will not complain much about being shuffled off to somewhere else. I believe I will have to rely on your judgment about how much disaster is too much disaster, as you know the situation on Barrayar infinitely better than I do. What is your advice for interacting with the general public? - And you didn't list your father."

[thisvorlunatic]

"My father... is slightly more complicated," sighs Miles. "We can talk about him later." Perhaps when they are actually alone together.

[isthisart]

"Okay."

They arrive at the embassy. Linyabel's luggage, all clearly marked with numbers on the boxes, also arrives and is disgorged from its car by a ba servitor who bows in what might be a vaguely affectionate manner to Linyabel before departing; she bids it goodbye by name and then opens the long box to make sure her keyboard is intact, which it is.

She does a lot of notetaking on her blank white pen projection.

[middlingalong]

The lieutenants are not already packed.

While packing is going on - that is, as soon as it's possible to tear Miles out of the presence of his new wife to get him to put objects into luggage - Ivan mutters: "What are you going to do with her?"

[thisvorlunatic]

"Well, I did promise I'd take her up in my lightflyer around Vorkosigan Surleau," Miles says brightly.

[middlingalong]

"Right, great, you can probably sink a whole afternoon into that. Then what? What are you going to tell Illyan? Or the Count your father? Or Gregor?"

[thisvorlunatic]

"I am going to tell all three of those people that I got married, Ivan. And since my wife seems very happy with me, I plan to stay that way... do you suppose we should have a second ceremony on Barrayar? I'll ask her what she thinks," he decides. "I wouldn't want anyone to think I wasn't serious about it, just because all I did was eat some candy and hold her hand. Ought to give my proper oaths."

[middlingalong]

"And then everyone will get the message that you're very serious about marrying your friendly but not that friendly haut-lady, that sounds great. Can haut even still have children with regular people?"

[thisvorlunatic]

"I'm pretty sure they can, Ivan. I'm pretty sure that's actually the point of haut-wives, at least if you ask a haut-woman."

[middlingalong]

"With ghem. Ghem haven't been regular for generations."

[thisvorlunatic]

"Regular enough," he shrugs.

[middlingalong]

"Okay. So then you have a little half-haut Lord Aral No Middle Name Because She Doesn't Even Properly Have Parents? That will go over well."

[thisvorlunatic]

"I'm hoping to give people a while to get used to it before we actually start producing children, admittedly in no small part because fatherhood is a terrifying prospect. But if you think I'm going to let any of that stop me, in the long run, I really don't know what to tell you."

[middlingalong]

"I don't think you're going to let it stop you. I was hoping you had more of a plan."

[thisvorlunatic]

"I plan to improvise, of course. It's gotten me this far, hasn't it?"

[middlingalong]

"I recall spending a lot of time passed out on the floor of the bloody Star Creche while you improvised," mutters Ivan, but he drops it.

[thisvorlunatic]

Great. Then Miles can finish packing in peace and go find his wife. (His wife!)

[isthisart]

She's sitting in the lobby, gesturing with her pen, while Maz - perhaps feeling more equal to the task than her fiancé - is making small talk with her. The current topic is what they have each respectively heard about Barrayar; Linyabel sounds like she's working more off of books and speculation than anything, though Maz has been talking to Vorob'yev.

[thisvorlunatic]

"All packed!" he says brightly, depositing his two luggage cases in the pile.

[isthisart]

"When do we leave?" asks Linyabel. "And how long is our route from here to Barrayar?"

[thisvorlunatic]

"We leave soon. Like, as soon as Ivan's packed, pretty much," he says. "The trip's a couple of weeks, maybe a little less if they sent a fast courier."

[isthisart]

She nods. "Do you think I should learn some of the languages spoken on Barrayar? Russian or Greek or French? After I'm more familiarized with the English dialect, anyway."

[thisvorlunatic]

"It's not necessary, but it could be handy," he says. "On the other hand, sometimes speaking a language somebody doesn't expect you to just lets you hear all the nasty things they say when they don't expect you to understand..." He shrugs.

[isthisart]

"I'd rather know what they're saying than not, if they'll say it either way," she remarks. "Besides, languages are a good thing to switch to if I need a break from technical activities, especially since I won't have my music group anymore. Which first, of the three?"

[thisvorlunatic]

"Smallest speaking population is Greek - that's the one I learned first," he says. "Russian and French are about tied overall, but you get more Russian-speakers near the capital."