Lois McMaster Bujold 07 Cetaganda

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Benin, for whatever reason, was being straight with him so far. Turn and
turnabout. "Well, this is what happened from our point of view-"
In a flat voice, and with plenty of corroborative physical details, Miles
described their confusing clash with the Ba. The only item he changed was to
report the Ba reaching for its trouser pocket before he'd yelled his warning.
He brought the tale up to the moment of Ivan's heroic struggle and his own
retrieval of the loose nerve disrupter, and bounced it over to Ivan to finish.
Ivan gave him a dirty look, but, taking his tone from Miles, offered a brief
factual description of the Ba's subsequent escape.
Since it lacked face paint, Miles could watch Vorreedi's face darken, out of
the corner of his eye. The man was too cool and controlled to actually turn
purple or anything, but Miles bet a blood pressure monitor would be beeping in
plaintive alarm right now.
"And why did you not report this at our first meeting, Lord Vorkosigan?" Benin
asked again, after a long, digestive pause.
"I might," said Vorreedi in a slightly suffused voice, "ask you the same
question, Lieutenant." Benin shot Vorreedi a raised-
brow look, almost putting his face paint in danger of smudging.
Lieutenant, not my lord; Miles took the point. "The pod pilot reported to his
captain, who will have reported to his commander." To wit, Illyan; in fact,
the report, slogging through normal channels, should be reaching Illyan's desk
right about now. Three days more for an emergency query to arrive on
Vorreedi's desk from home, six more days for a reply and return-reply.
It would all be over before Illyan could do a damned thing, now. "However, on
my authority as senior envoy, I suppressed the incident for diplomatic
reasons. We were sent with specific instructions to maintain a low profile and
behave with maximum courtesy. My government considered this solemn occasion an
important opportunity to send a message that we would be glad to see more
normal trade and other relations, and an easing of tensions along our mutual
borders. I did not judge that it would do anything helpful for our mutual
tensions to open our visit with charges of an unmotivated armed attack by an
Imperial slave upon the Barrayaran special representatives."
The implied threat was obvious enough; despite Benin's face paint, Miles could
tell that one had hit home. Even Vorreedi looked like he might be giving the
pitch serious consideration.
"Can you... prove your assertions, Lord Vorkosigan?" asked Benin cautiously.
"We still have the captured nerve disruptor. Ivan?" Miles nodded to his
cousin.
Gently, using only his fingertips, Ivan drew the weapon from his pocket and
laid it gingerly on the table, and returned his hands demurely to his lap. He
avoided Vorreedi's outraged eye. Vorreedi and Benin reached simultaneously for
the nerve disruptor, and simultaneously stopped, frowning at each other.
"Excuse me," said Vorreedi. "I had not seen this before."
"Really?" said Benin. How extraordinary, his tone implied. "Go ahead." His
hand dropped politely.
Vorreedi picked up the weapon and examined it closely, among other things
checking to see that the safety lock was indeed engaged, before handing it
equally politely to Benin.
"I'd be glad to return the weapon to you, ghem-Colonel," Miles went on, "in
exchange for whatever information you are able to deduce from it. If it can be
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traced back to the Celestial Garden, that's not much help, but if it was
something the Ba acquired en route, well... it might be revealing. This is a
check that you can make more easily than I can." Miles paused, then added,
"Who did the Ba visit from the station the first time?"
Benin glanced up from his close contemplation of the nerve disruptor. "A ship
moored off-station."
"Can you be more specific?"
"No."
"Excuse me, let me re-phrase that. Could you be more specific if you chose
to?"
Benin set the disruptor down, and leaned back, his expression of attention to
Miles, if possible, intensifying.
He was silent for a long thoughtful moment before finally replying, "No,
unfortunately. I could not." Rats. The three haut-
governors' ships moored off that transfer station were Ilsum Kety's, Slyke
Giaja's and Este Rond's. This could have been the final line of his
triangulation, but Benin didn't have it. Yet. "I'd be particularly interested
in how traffic control, or what certainly passed for traffic control, came to
direct us to the wrong, or at any rate the first, pod dock."
"Why do you think the Ba entered your pod?" Benin asked in turn.
"Given the intense confusion of the encounter, I certainly would consider the
possibility of it having been an accident. If it was arranged, I think
something must have gone very wrong."
No shit, said Ivan's silent morose look. Miles ignored him.
"Anyway, ghem-Colonel, I hope this helps to anchor your time-table," Miles
continued in a tone of finality. Surely Benin would be itching to run and
check out his new clue, the nerve disrupter.
Benin didn't budge. "So what did you and the haut Rian really discuss, Lord
Vorkosigan?"
"For that, I'm afraid you will have to apply to the haut Rian. She is
Cetagandan to the bone, and so all your department." Alas.
"But I think her distress at the death of the Ba Lura was quite genuine."
Benin's eyes flicked up. "When did you see enough of her to gauge the depth of
her distress?"
"Or so I deduced." And if he didn't end this now he was going to put his foot
in it so deep they'd need a hand-tractor to pull it out again. He had to play
Vorreedi with the utmost delicacy; this was not quite the case with Benin.
"This is fascinating, ghem-
Colonel, but I'm afraid I'm out of time for this morning. But if you ever find
out where that nerve disruptor came from, and where the Ba went to, I would be
more than glad to continue the conversation." He sat back, folded his arms,
and smiled cordially.
What Vorreedi should have done was announce loudly that they had all the time
in the world, and let Benin continue to be his stalking-horse-Miles would
have, in his place-but Vorreedi himself was clearly itching to get Miles
alone. Instead, the protocol officer rose, signaling the official end to the
interview. Benin, on embassy grounds as a guest, on sufferance-not his normal
mode, Miles was sure-acceded without comment, rising to take his farewells.
"I will be speaking with you again, Lord Vorkosigan," Benin promised darkly.
"I certainly hope so, sir. Ah-did you take my other piece of advice, too?
About blocking interference?" [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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