middlingalong | marilacan embassy

Ivan does not successfully get Miles to stop fussing with the thing (Miles takes an impression of its impressions on a plastic flimsy) or convince him to leave it somewhere other than inside the bedchamber (it is in a drawer) nor get him to actually tell Vorreedi as promised (Vorreedi is dealing with importation infractions out of town; this is, Miles says, nothing to do with him). He does, however, get Miles (who complains about not having had warning about all this downtime such that he could have scheduled leg bone replacement surgery) to their ride to the party, on time and in uniform.

The Marilacan embassy is, Vorob'yev says, to be regarded as neutral yet non-secured territory - they can enjoy themselves, among fellow offworlders and some ghem-lords. Vorob'yev entertains them - so to speak - on the way by remarking on the Marilacan strategic situation; they've apparently been taking lots of help from Ceteganda, are ignoring their womhole maps and don't think Cetaganda would ever backstab them and blah blah. There is also more fascinating gossip about suicides with... "uncooperative principals", but not much of it; the topic soon drifts to the fact that the party may yield gossip that they should report to Vorreedi when he's back. Along with certain other things they should report to Vorreedi.

"Try not to give away more than you gain," Vorob'yev says.

"Well, I'm safe," remarks Ivan. "I don't know anything." A position of safety he'd dearly like to be able to cultivate more, coz, hint hint.

The Marilacan embassy is pretty, and scans their guests; Ivan does at least know enough to have left the nerve disruptor behind. There's an art project - Ivan doesn't rightly know what sort of thing to call it; a sculpture? With a water feature? And flying colorful flakes? The Marilacan ambassador, Berneaux, says it's called Autumn Leaves, anyway, so it's an Autumn Leaves - and then both lieutenants are shooed. The hors d'oeuvres are excellent. There is wine. Ivan can at this point get rid of his cousin and see if there are any ladies who could benefit from his company about.

Oh now there is one.

Ivan sets about charming the probably-at-least-an-eighth-haut ghem-lady as best he knows how. Mutants on purpose may be mutants still but pretty on purpose is pretty still likewise. He knows tact, at least with girls. He gets her (Lady Gelle) to laugh. Miles is wandering back in his direction again, but whatever, Miles probably isn't going to compete with him for elbow room here.

Then they're approached by some ghem-lord, Yenaro apparently, who mercifully doesn't seem to be related to or involved with the girl, and indeed obliquely congratulates her on having located "galactic exotics". Good, Ivan has been trading on the right characteristic with her so far. Gelle introduces Ivan, and prompts Ivan to introduce Miles, to Yenaro. They talk ancient history, grandfathers and who's at fault for events of the war - apparently they call it the Barrayaran War here.

Gelle kindly diverts the subject to the art piece, which is Yenaro's handiwork. He insults her stylistic choices and Ivan takes the opening to compliment her; if she's looking for sophisticated Cetegandan taste over appreciative galactic obliviousness Ivan can't help her, but he can show off the latter to best effect in case it'll sell. Yenaro chooses this occasion to tell the lady that Ivan was born in the usual - well, the normal, anyway - fashion. Her revulsion is disheartening, although she seems to find Yenaro's behavior at least as obnoxious as she finds childbirth grotesque. Either way, the combination of the two sends her skating off into the crowd.

Yenaro fumbles and then coaxes them into touring the interior of his sculpture. Miles breaks off, but Ivan goes ahead and has a look, no use holding a grudge at the man for dissuading exactly one girl, however pretty she was. Miles is apparently more interested in talking to the forty-standard lady Vorob'yev has on his arm.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

alicornucopia

The party is ongoing.

When Miles is back inside, Yenaro finds him. "Ah, there you are, Lord Vorkosigan. "I could not find you."

From:

thisvorlunatic

"I took a long walk with a lady." Speaking of which, "Where is my cousin?"

From:

alicornucopia

"Lord Vorpatril is taking a tour of the house with Lady Arvin and Lady Benello," says Yenaro. "They've been gone... an astonishingly long time." He seems puzzled, though he is trying to conceal that. "Since before you... I don't quite... ah well. Would you care for a drink?"

From:

thisvorlunatic

"Yes, please—" He accepts some of whatever it is, takes a distracted gulp, and installs himself in a seat with a view of the stairs. Come on, Ivan. Whatever you're doing up there with a pair of ghem-girls can't be all that important... normally Miles would find the pair of ghem-girls a considerable distraction in mental imagery, but the haut Linyabel's smile still blossoms in his memory, and the ghem-women who looked so beautiful to him when he left the house now seem no more than old rag dolls, their colours dull and faded, their stitching half unpicked.

From:

middlingalong

Yenaro makes irritating conversation.

Ivan appears at the top of the stairs and nearly staggers down them.

"Lord Vorpatril," says Yenaro. "You had a long tour. Did you see everything?"

"Everything," says Ivan, nearly hissing. "Even the light."

"I'm... so glad." Yenaro takes the excuse to leave them for a calling guest across the room.

"Get us the hell out of here," Ivan murmurs into Miles's ear, "I think I've been poisoned."

From:

thisvorlunatic

"What? D'you want to call down the lightflyer?"

From:

middlingalong

"No. Just back to the embassy in the groundcar."

From:

thisvorlunatic

"But—"

From:

middlingalong

"No, dammit. Just quietly. Before that smirking bastard goes upstairs."

From:

thisvorlunatic

"I take it you don't think it's acute...?"

From:

middlingalong

"Oh, it was cute, all right."

From:

thisvorlunatic

"You didn't murder anybody up there, did you?"

From:

middlingalong

"No - but I thought they'd never - tell you in the car," says Ivan disgustedly.

In the car, it transpires that Ivan was all set to... Ivan... with Ladies Arvin and Benello, the both of them, only to find that he'd been slipped the opposite of an aphrodisiac. Miles identifies the zlati ale as the likely vector, after Ivan insists on ruling out natural causes for the moment of underperformance. (Ivan is half-proud of his solution to the problem - he made up a Barrayaran custom obliging him to supply his lady-friends with three you know, ahem apiece before taking his own turn and managed to leave them both asleep and smiling.)

He threatens Miles's bodily integrity over the possibility of the incident being reported anywhere, although of course he wants a visit to the infirmary as soon as they reach it.

At any rate, this confirms that Yenaro has been setting them traps, though it does not guarantee that he's acting alone.

With that subject put to bed until Ivan can get medical attention, Ivan wants to know whether the Empress's dildo has been disposed of. He is not best pleased with the "yes... and no" reply he gets, and has to be cowed into continued nonreporting silence with their embassy co-occupants by allusions to delicate politics and the incompetence of the staff in local ImpSec offices.

Ivan, muttering, sheds his cousin as soon as the groundcar stops, making straight for the infirmary.

From:

thisvorlunatic

Miles, for his part, makes straight for the shower. His black House uniform is in critical laundry condition; that two-way trek through the mud to meet with Linyabel really did a number on it. The rest of him... well. It's not that he's particularly muddy - in fact, he might prefer mud to the sight of his own body, just now. If only he had a supply of black curtains with which to cover all the mirrors in his suite.

If how the lady sees him is the inverse of how he sees her - he's surprised she didn't run screaming. Well, the haut-women can see out of their bubbles just fine; perhaps she's used to the sight of inferior humanity, blotched and lumpy and unattractive as they are. Perhaps it's all the same to her, a ghem-lord or Ivan or Miles himself... She said she didn't want to marry a ghem-lord. Why not? He should have asked. No he shouldn't. Yes he should. He'll see if he can slip it in. Compare histories, if he can find any interesting parts of his that aren't top secret. Maybe she'd like to hear about his grandfather's horses.

The ghem-lords win their haut-wives through great deeds. The Vor and the ghem are not so different - he has that observation right from the expert-ish Maz. Just now, Miles is well placed to do something reasonably great... his interests and the haut Linyabel's and Barrayar's and the Cetagandan Emperor's, all neatly aligned. Retrieve the Key, save the haut-ladies a crypto-crisis of untold proportion, clear Barrayar's name of whatever the governor in question means to smear it with, forestall a probable civil war. All in a day's work for Miles the Magnificent, ha. At least he has only three governors to choose from. A triangle to triangulate.

Even if he does manage it, though—even if the Emperor chooses against all custom and precedent to give him that miraculous reward—it's no use if she doesn't like him. She smiled. Twice, even. Does that mean anything? Does he dare hope? He feels certain, in the total absence of evidence, that no ghem-lord has ever made her smile.

From:

middlingalong

Ivan is still down in the infirmary by the time Miles is through with his showering and his musing.

From:

thisvorlunatic

Well, the showering part is over, but the musing continues - this time on a somewhat different subject.

What are his handles on this situation? Lord Yenaro - the ba Lura - the identities of the three governors and the physical and political placement of their planets. He can steer embassy security in Yenaro's direction without too much trouble by complaining about the Autumn Leaves incident; he has no line whatsoever into the investigation of Lura's death; personal information about the governors is thin on the ground, but anybody can stare at a map...

So he finds a map and commences staring at it.

The map is hardly any help at all.

Rho Ceta, governed by Este Rond - closest to Barrayar, positioned to benefit from any conflict between the two empires by leading the charge and hogging the spoils. Granted, that didn't work out so well the first time the Cetagandans tried it, and Barrayar has only gotten stronger since. Still.

Sigma Ceta, governed by Ilsum Kety, and Xi Ceta, governed by Slyke Giaja - both on the opposite side of the Cetagandan Empire from Barrayar; both positioned to benefit from trouble with Barrayar by taking advantage of a freer rein while the rest of the Empire is distracted.

If only one of the three had been an interior planet, neither advantageously close nor advantageously far, to be thereby ruled out of his analysis - in fact, he muses, the interior planets are poorly placed to benefit from a scheme like this in general. If they tried to rebel, they'd be getting it from all sides, a veritable prefabricated ambush. But no: his list of suspects remains the same.

From:

middlingalong

Ivan eventually comes back. The infirmary confirmed Miles's guess about how the poison was administered and the happy speculation about its longer-term harmlessness.

And Ivan is again demanding explanations on pain of going to Vorreedi, who doesn't seem incompetent amounts of paranoid to him.

Edited Date: 2014-07-12 12:18 am (UTC)

From:

thisvorlunatic

Miles tells him - almost everything. Out of all the things in the wormhole nexus that definitely aren't Ivan's business in any way, surely the one thing that is the least Ivan's business is the haut Linyabel's extraordinary beauty and Miles's hopeless romantic aspirations thereto.

But the rest of it, sure. Everything relevant to the case at hand.

He ends with, "So I don't plan on reporting... yet. I do think now is the time to start documenting the whole business, private-like. But if I give it over, Vorreedi'll want to cut me out, and I truly don't think he should."

From:

middlingalong

"How - how - is this remotely your job?"

From:

thisvorlunatic

"The job is there and I can do it, Ivan. My social position gives me a kind of access no other ImpSec officer on this planet can claim. All right? Now - when you talked to Colonel Vorreedi, did you plant the idea that Yenaro had a high-placed backer? We might as well put him to use, now that he's back in town."

From:

middlingalong

"Not exactly."

From:

thisvorlunatic

"I'd like you to talk to him again, then. Try to lead him in the direction of the satrap governors if you can manage it."

From:

middlingalong

"Why don't you talk to him?"

From:

thisvorlunatic

"I'm not - ready," he says. "Not yet, not tonight, not now. I'm still assimilating it all. And technically, he is my ImpSec superior here, or would be, if I were on active duty. I'd like to limit my, um..."