bioestheties exhibition

[middlingalong]

The following day they visit the 149th Annual Bioestheties Exhibition, Class A, Dedicated to the Memory of the Celestial Lady. This dedication, though rather last-minute, makes it a key stop for offworlders on Eta Ceta for funerary proceedings. Lord Vorreedi is, unexpectedly, present too; he may be hard to slip.

The exhibits are gorgeous. Unnatural colors of various flowers are sufficiently routine to be used as borders for the real show - fish with clan marks on their scales (this exhibitor is about twelve), a pet unicorn (this one is possibly not even an exhibit), a tendril of vine that attempts to entrap Ivan's foot (its keeper dislodges it), and a kitten tree.

Ivan is displeased by the kitten tree, believing there to be glue involved in the attachment of kittens to their pods. He picks one in a determined rescue attempt. It is not ripe; the kitten expires when detached. Vorreedi offers to discreetly dispose of the poor beast, for which Ivan is intensely grateful.

Their erstwhile friend Yenaro is present. When Ivan notices, he points the man out to Miles.

Comments

[thisvorlunatic]

"Yes," says Miles. "I imagine you would have been. Which governor was it, by the way?"

[alicornucopia]

"...Haut Ilsum Kety."

[thisvorlunatic]

"Thank you." He checks the time. "God, I'm late - you'll have to take it from here, Ivan. Good day, Lord Yenaro, and a much better one than you were meant to have."

[middlingalong]

Ivan nods grimly.

Yenaro wilts.

[thisvorlunatic]

Miles nods shortly to both of them and heads off to the appointed meeting place.

[alicornucopia]

There is the ghem-lady, who hands him off after a walk to the same little ba he's been following, who takes him to a bubble in a secluded alcove in a cathedral-esque building.

"Hello again," says Linyabel. "Any luck?"

[thisvorlunatic]

"Yes, in fact. Lord Yenaro, the architect of my embarrassing accident, was all set to dump a pitcher of catalyst on a lovely rug made of five kilos of military explosive, cleverly disguised. I took him aside and demonstrated why this would have been a bad idea, using a thread from the rug and a drop from the pitcher, and he was very forthcoming in the ensuing conversation." Miles takes a breath. "It's Kety."

[isthisart]

"Okay," breathes the bubble. "Excellent -" She drops her shield, and proffers one of the two flimsies of ship-map in her hand. "There's his ship's model mapped out. I have the ba uniform for you too, and a device that will detect the old-style power supply for the Key, but perhaps that should be transferred when you have a clearer idea of your plan."

[thisvorlunatic]

"Yes." He accepts the map and starts folding it carefully for concealment in his pocket. "Not until the very moment when I'm about to hare off and board a shuttle - and I can't, right now, I'd be missed too fast. We'll have to arrange something later that'll give me more lead time, if your Handmaiden can manage it. Old-style power supply, eh? Very unique, not likely to be casually duplicated in somebody's antique hair dryer? What kind of range does your detector have, do you know?"

[isthisart]

"Short. Twenty feet, if that, less with something in the way. But it won't pick up any hairdryers."

[thisvorlunatic]

"All right. Convey my thanks and my information to the Handmaiden - and I think I'd better go before someone decides I'm officially missing. My security happens to be particularly on edge today." He hesitates a bare instant, then blurts, "It was nice seeing you again, milady."

[isthisart]

"Likewise. - By the way, Lisbet knows about our idea. She guessed, though I'd have had to tell her anyway. She says when she can she'll put in a word with the Emperor."

[thisvorlunatic]

"I really have to go," he says, through his dazzling grin, and heads for the door before he can change his mind and try to hug her or something equally foolish.

[isthisart]

"Bye," she calls, the bubble-distortion affecting the word halfway through.

[thisvorlunatic]

He continues to grin foolishly all the way back to the exhibition.

[middlingalong]

Where Ivan catches him almost immediately. "There you are, where the hell did you go?"

[thisvorlunatic]

"To report our new information to my haut-contact," he says in an undertone, trying for 'serious' and not really making it more than a third of the way there.

[middlingalong]

"And get drunk with your the-haut-whoever, what's gotten into y- oh my god, tell me I'm wrong."

[thisvorlunatic]

"I was not getting drunk, shut up."

[middlingalong]

"No, that is no longer my guess, tell me you don't fancy yourself in love with a haut-lady, the haut-ladies are off-limits, Miles."

[thisvorlunatic]

"Haut-ladies as a category, yes. This particular one as much as said outright that if I bring this operation off, she's going to petition to be awarded to me. Which isn't quite how they usually do it, but obviously she has connections, that's how we met in the first place."

[middlingalong]

"Tell me you don't fancy a haut-lady in love with you."

[thisvorlunatic]

"Thank you, Ivan," he grits, "I'm perfectly aware of how unlovable I am. She at least definitely seems to like my style better than what she gets at home."

[middlingalong]

"Oh, God, Miles, I didn't mean about - I'm talking about haut-ladies, not about you, how do you know you're not being - conned, suborned, set up?"

[thisvorlunatic]

"Because everything I'm doing is exactly the same thing I'd be doing anyway. Except I'd be grinning less."