"Undress greens, please," says Vorob'yev. "Clothing is a cultural language everywhere, to be sure, but here it's practically a secret code. It is difficult enough to move among the ghem-lords without committing some defined error, and among the haut-lords it's nearly impossible. Uniforms are always correct, or, if not exactly correct, clearly not the wearer's fault, since he has no choice. I'll have my protocol office give you a list of which uniforms you are to wear at each event."

Miles is very pleased with this development. No fussing around with outfits, just a nice tidy list, consisting wholly of things he's absolutely certain to have brought. Given the proportions of their respective luggage, though, he suspects Ivan may have a different outlook.