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]

"Obviously Benin finally traced Ba Lura to our little encounter at the pod dock, and now he wants to ask us pointed questions. I propose to spill very nearly all of the beans - just without mentioning the Great Key or anything that followed from it. No haut shenanigans whatsoever. Bring the nerve disruptor - I might want to let him have it as evidence, in fact I probably will - but don't pull it out until I tell you, in case I change my mind. This is going to be a little delicate. I don't want to obstruct his investigation, it'll suit me just fine if he nails the governor for murder, but I don't want him to stumble on what's really going on. Too high a risk something will leak before we're ready to move."

[middlingalong]

"And then whatever would happen to your imaginary romance, perish the thought," says Ivan, though he's already fetching out and pocketing the disruptor.

[thisvorlunatic]

"I'm less concerned with imaginary romance, more concerned with setting off a civil war that ends with the Cetagandan Empire split into multiple scrambling squabbling conquest-happy pieces," says Miles.

[middlingalong]

"Do you realize how pissed Vorreedi and the ambassador are going to be when they ultimately find out, well, everything?"

[thisvorlunatic]

"Vorreedi's under control, at least for now; I've got him convinced I'm on a secret mission from Simon Illyan."

[middlingalong]

"...Which means you aren't. I knew it," groans Ivan.

[thisvorlunatic]

"Only because he didn't know about any of this in time to give me a secret mission," says Miles. "I'm hoping to produce results he'll find hard to argue with. If I don't, we will all have bigger problems."

[middlingalong]

"I'm pretty sure no matter what Illyan knew he wouldn't be authorizing you to woo haut-ladies. I'd apologize for being hung up on that part but you think you are wooing a haut-lady."

[thisvorlunatic]

"Honestly, it's less of a romance and more of an assisted escape. Besides, what's he going to do if I pull it off? Confiscate her? Not bloody likely. Illyan has more sense than that."

[middlingalong]

Ivan shakes his head, muttering about the time they were eight and Miles had him and Elena dig a tunnel, which collapsed, but he pulls his half-boots on and pats the pocket with the nerve disruptor.

[thisvorlunatic]

Miles growls at this reminder. Down to the conference room they go.

[middlingalong]

Ivan pulls on his best poker face.

Vorreedi is present, eliminating the need for a separate guard for Miles in Benin's presence.

[thisvorlunatic]

There follows a very surprising interview, at least for Vorreedi and Benin. Miles is in more or less complete control the whole time.

Benin's opening shot is a pointed question about where Miles might have seen the Ba Lura before its body turned up in the rotunda; Miles serenely answers that there was indeed such a meeting, and proceeds to tell him the entire story of the brief encounter, only omitting the Great Key itself - he claims that the ba was reaching for the nerve disruptor in its trouser pocket all along.

When Benin and Vorreedi both ask, in somewhat politer terms, just what the hell he thought he was doing keeping this story to himself, he explains that as senior envoy he considered it his duty to suppress the incident in order to avoid fostering tension between their empires, since news of the assault could not fail to serve as an agitating influence.

Next, Benin requests proof. "We still have the captured nerve disruptor," says Miles, gesturing to Ivan.

[middlingalong]

Ivan produces it, with the ginger motions of someone producing a deadly weapon in the presence of people who might take exception to it. He avoids eye contact with the colonel and Vorreedi both.

[thisvorlunatic]

Vorreedi examines the device, checks the safety lock, and then hands it to Benin, who makes a similar investigation.

"I'd be happy to turn it over, of course," says Miles. "Perhaps in exchange for whatever information it yields to you, if you are feeling generous."

Benin responds noncommittally to this request, and essays a single parting shot about Miles's conversations with haut-ladies, which Miles deflects with a shrug and a reminder that he can hardly be said to know the haut Lisbet Serise, having met her all of once to receive some disappointing news in brief and then stand around awkwardly in the hall outside her office while she dealt with mysterious haut-business. Benin concedes the point.

As the ghem-colonel prepares to leave, Miles inquires whether he took the advice Miles offered him at their previous conversation, about being sure to get over the head of whoever may try to interfere with his investigation. Benin answers thoughtfully that it went better than he expected. Miles is satisfied by this response.



As soon as Vorreedi has Miles and Ivan alone, he aims an arresting glare at Miles and says pointedly, "I am not a mushroom, Lieutenant Vorkosigan."

To be kept in the dark and fed on horseshit, Miles mentally completes the phrase. "Sir, apply to my commander—" Illyan, chief of ImpSec, therefore equally Vorreedi's commander, "—be cleared, and all my knowledge will be at your disposal. Until then - I must rely on my judgment. Which says that in this situation, I should treat all pertinent information as radioactive material, to be stored and handled with utmost care and not given out without a damn good reason."

Vorreedi makes a few disgruntled noises, but releases Ivan and Miles to return to their suite.

[middlingalong]

Ivan is disgruntled, once the need for the poker face has passed.

They find, in their suite, a short-notice invitation to a garden party at the Lady d'Har's.

"It has both our names on it," observes Ivan with surprise.

[thisvorlunatic]

"Huh," says Miles. "Garden party - could be an oblique reference to the Celestial Garden. This might be my next contact. This had better be my next contact, because we're going."

[middlingalong]

"It's not my first choice of how to spend the evening."

[thisvorlunatic]

"Too bad. I might need you."

[middlingalong]

"Ugh," says Ivan. "Garden party. Fine. Too bad she can't just get the gene bank off his ship. Then he'd have the key but no lock. That'd fox him good, I bet."

[thisvorlunatic]

"That... is an interesting idea," says Miles. "Well done, Ivan. I'll suggest it to Lisbet. We still need the Key back, obviously, but that would certainly put a lid on any mischief he might get up to while he has it."

[middlingalong]

Ivan smiles, slightly.



The garden party takes place on a high roof of a building under an unobtrusive gold-sparkle of force screen to keep out wind and dust and rain. It is not inside the dome of the Celestial Garden, but it's close enough for there to be an odd light in the air from the glow thereof. The garden is exquisitely designed, populated with equally exquisitely designed components.

Their hostess Lady d'Har is a haut-wife of advanced age, wearing white mourning of course, and accompanied by her husband ghem-Admiral Har. He is of sufficient accumulated accomplishment that he could have chosen to stagger around under a mountain of medals pinned to his blood-red uniform, but instead he is wearing only one, the Order of Merit. (The haut-wife by his side is the only more significant honor it is possible to acquire within the Empire.)

There is food and drink to be had, and guests to mingle with once Lady d'Har has ushered them in. (She does this personally; apparently there is some wrinkle in when to attend to the presence of an unbubbled haut-lady, such as being inside her own home by invitation at the time.)

Ivan is dismayed by the demographics. "Wall-to-wall old crusts," he comments, before Vorob'yev suppresses the commentary. There are even a few haut-lady bubbles; apparently whatever social rule prevents the ladies who have not yet left the enclave of the Celestial Garden from keeping in close touch with their demoted friends and relations is not absolute, or can be relaxed around parties like this.

Vorob'yev says, "I wish I could have gotten Maz in. How did you do this, Lord Ivan?"

"Don't look at me," says Ivan, gesturing at Miles.

[thisvorlunatic]

Miles shrugs. "Isn't this the sort of thing we're here for?" he says vaguely. Vorob'yev drops it, and the Barrayarans commence wandering around the party looking very out of place and eating the artistic little morsels provided. Miles nibbles on a tiny swan with rice-flour feathers.

And then they round a corner and find another bubbleless haut-lady. Miles recognizes this one, from his first and only conversation with Ilsum Kety - she is the haut Vio d'Chilian, ghem-General Chilian's haut-wife.

Well, that puts an entirely different and far more terrifying spin on this excursion.

[middlingalong]

Ivan's attention on the lady Vio is considerably differently motivated. Apart from their elderly hostess, who has to be upwards of ninety years old, this is the first haut-woman he has seen, and he doesn't have Miles's inoculatory history with the breed.

"Who is she?" breathes Ivan.

Vorob'yev identifies her for him. And reminds Ivan: haut-ladies, off-limits.

"Yes sir," says Ivan.

Vio, for her part, is paying them no mind, just looking at the distant glow of the Celestial Garden's dome.

[thisvorlunatic]

When the lady notices them at last and turns away from the dome, Miles identifies a fleeting look of pure rage on her beautiful face - visible for only the briefest instant, already fading as she turns; therefore, he deduces, aimed at the Celestial Garden and not at anyone actually present.

He puts a hand on Ivan's arm as casually as possible, ready to apply discouraging pressure if he senses any incipient flirtations. All things considered - her social proximity to the haut Kety; her presence at this specific party to which Miles and Ivan were expressly invited for reasons not yet fully known to them - Miles judges that it would be the height of foolishness to solicit her attention in any way.