[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
everything everything you have on record here from the past twenty-four hours and squirt it back on
an open channel, at the highest priority, to the Imperial Residence, to the Barrayaran high command on
Barrayar, to ImpSec HQ, and to ImpSec Galactic Affairs on Komarr. And," he took a breath, and
raised his voice to override Vorpatril's outraged cry ofClear copy! At a time like this? "marked from
Lord Auditor Miles Vorkosigan of Barrayar to the most urgent, personal attention of ghem-General Dag
Benin, Chief of Imperial Security, the Celestial Garden, Eta Ceta, personal, urgent, most urgent, by
Rian's hair this one's real, Dag. Exactly those words."
"What?" screamed Vorpatril, then hastily lowered his tone to an anguished repeat, "What? A
rendezvous at Marilac can only mean imminent war with the Cetagandans! We can't hand them that kind
of intelligence on our position and movements gift-wrapped!"
"Obtain the complete, unedited Graf Station Security recording of the interrogation of Russo Gupta and
send it along too, as soon as you possibly can. Sooner."
New terror shook Miles, a vision like a fever dream: the grand façade of Vorkosigan House, in the
Barrayaran capital of Vorbarr Sultana, with plasma fire raining down upon it, its ancient stone melting like
butter; two fluid-filled canisters exploding in steam. Or a fog of plague, leaving all the House's protectors
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
dead in heaps in the halls, or fled to die in the streets; two almost ripe replicators running down
unattended, stopping, slowly chilling, their tiny occupants dying for lack of oxygen, drowning in their own
amniotic fluid. His past and his future, all destroyed together . . . Nikki, too would he be swept up with
the other children in some frantic rescue, or left uncounted, unmissed, fatally alone? Miles had fancied
himself growing into a good stepfather to Nikki that was called into deep question now, eh?Ekaterin,
I'm sorry . . .
It would be hours days before the new tight-beam could get back to Barrayar and Cetaganda.
Insanely upset people could make fatal mistakes in mere minutes. Seconds . . . "And if you are a praying
man, Vorpatril, pray that no one will do anything stupid before it gets there. And that we will be
believed."
"Lady Vorkosigan," Vorpatril whispered urgently. "Could he be hallucinating from the disease?"
"No, no," she soothed. "He's just thinking too fast, and leaving out all the intervening steps. He does that.
It can be very frustrating. Miles, love, um . . . for therest of us, would you mind unpacking that a little
more?"
He took a breath and two or three more to stop his trembling. "The ba. It's not an agent on a
mission. It's a criminal. A renegade. Perhaps insane. I believe it hijacked the annual haut child-ship to
Rho Ceta, sent the vessel into the nearest sun with all aboard probably murdered already and made
off with its cargo. Which trans-shipped through Komarr, and which left the Barrayaran Empire on a trade
ship belonging to Empress Laisapersonally and just how incriminatingthat particular detail is going to
look to certain minds inside the Star Crèche, I shrink to imagine. The Cetagandans thinkwe stole their
babies, or colluded in the theft, and, dear God, murdered aplanetary consort , and so they are about to
make war on us bymistake !"
"Oh," said Vorpatril blankly.
"The ba's whole safety lay in perfect secrecy, because once the Cetagandans got on the right trail they
would never rest till they tracked this crime down. But the perfect plan cracked when Gupta didn't die on
schedule. Gupta's frantic antics drew Solian in, drew you in, drew me in . . ." His voice slowed. "Except,
what in the world does the ba want those haut infantsfor ?"
Ekaterin offered hesitantly, "Could it be stealing them for someone else?"
"Yes, but the ba aren'tsupposed to be subornable."
"Well, if not for pay or some bribe, maybe blackmail or threat? Maybe threat to some haut to whom the
bais loyal?"
"Or maybe some faction in the Star Crèche," Miles supplied. "Except . . . the ghem-lords do factions.
The haut lords do factions. The Star Crèche has always moved as one even when it was committing
arguable treason, a decade ago, the haut ladies took no separate decisions."
"TheStar Crèche committed treason?" echoed Vorpatril in astonishment. "This certainly didn't get out!
Are you sure? I never heard of any mass executions that high in the Empire back then, and I should
have." He paused, and added in a baffled tone, "How could a bunch of haut-lady baby-makers commit
treason, anyway?"
"It didn't quite come off. For various reasons." Miles cleared his throat.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
"Lord Auditor Vorkosigan. This is your com link, yes? Are you there?" a new voice, and a very
welcome one, broke in.
"Sealer Greenlaw!" Miles cried happily. "Have you made it to safety? All of you?"
"We are back aboard Graf Station," replied the Sealer. "It seems premature to call it safety. And you?"
"Still trapped aboard theIdris . Although not totally without resources. Or ideas."
"I urgently need to speak to you. You can override that hothead Vorpatril."
"Ah, my com link is sustaining an open audio link with Admiral Vorpatril now, ma'am. You can speak to [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl karpacz24.htw.pl
everything everything you have on record here from the past twenty-four hours and squirt it back on
an open channel, at the highest priority, to the Imperial Residence, to the Barrayaran high command on
Barrayar, to ImpSec HQ, and to ImpSec Galactic Affairs on Komarr. And," he took a breath, and
raised his voice to override Vorpatril's outraged cry ofClear copy! At a time like this? "marked from
Lord Auditor Miles Vorkosigan of Barrayar to the most urgent, personal attention of ghem-General Dag
Benin, Chief of Imperial Security, the Celestial Garden, Eta Ceta, personal, urgent, most urgent, by
Rian's hair this one's real, Dag. Exactly those words."
"What?" screamed Vorpatril, then hastily lowered his tone to an anguished repeat, "What? A
rendezvous at Marilac can only mean imminent war with the Cetagandans! We can't hand them that kind
of intelligence on our position and movements gift-wrapped!"
"Obtain the complete, unedited Graf Station Security recording of the interrogation of Russo Gupta and
send it along too, as soon as you possibly can. Sooner."
New terror shook Miles, a vision like a fever dream: the grand façade of Vorkosigan House, in the
Barrayaran capital of Vorbarr Sultana, with plasma fire raining down upon it, its ancient stone melting like
butter; two fluid-filled canisters exploding in steam. Or a fog of plague, leaving all the House's protectors
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
dead in heaps in the halls, or fled to die in the streets; two almost ripe replicators running down
unattended, stopping, slowly chilling, their tiny occupants dying for lack of oxygen, drowning in their own
amniotic fluid. His past and his future, all destroyed together . . . Nikki, too would he be swept up with
the other children in some frantic rescue, or left uncounted, unmissed, fatally alone? Miles had fancied
himself growing into a good stepfather to Nikki that was called into deep question now, eh?Ekaterin,
I'm sorry . . .
It would be hours days before the new tight-beam could get back to Barrayar and Cetaganda.
Insanely upset people could make fatal mistakes in mere minutes. Seconds . . . "And if you are a praying
man, Vorpatril, pray that no one will do anything stupid before it gets there. And that we will be
believed."
"Lady Vorkosigan," Vorpatril whispered urgently. "Could he be hallucinating from the disease?"
"No, no," she soothed. "He's just thinking too fast, and leaving out all the intervening steps. He does that.
It can be very frustrating. Miles, love, um . . . for therest of us, would you mind unpacking that a little
more?"
He took a breath and two or three more to stop his trembling. "The ba. It's not an agent on a
mission. It's a criminal. A renegade. Perhaps insane. I believe it hijacked the annual haut child-ship to
Rho Ceta, sent the vessel into the nearest sun with all aboard probably murdered already and made
off with its cargo. Which trans-shipped through Komarr, and which left the Barrayaran Empire on a trade
ship belonging to Empress Laisapersonally and just how incriminatingthat particular detail is going to
look to certain minds inside the Star Crèche, I shrink to imagine. The Cetagandans thinkwe stole their
babies, or colluded in the theft, and, dear God, murdered aplanetary consort , and so they are about to
make war on us bymistake !"
"Oh," said Vorpatril blankly.
"The ba's whole safety lay in perfect secrecy, because once the Cetagandans got on the right trail they
would never rest till they tracked this crime down. But the perfect plan cracked when Gupta didn't die on
schedule. Gupta's frantic antics drew Solian in, drew you in, drew me in . . ." His voice slowed. "Except,
what in the world does the ba want those haut infantsfor ?"
Ekaterin offered hesitantly, "Could it be stealing them for someone else?"
"Yes, but the ba aren'tsupposed to be subornable."
"Well, if not for pay or some bribe, maybe blackmail or threat? Maybe threat to some haut to whom the
bais loyal?"
"Or maybe some faction in the Star Crèche," Miles supplied. "Except . . . the ghem-lords do factions.
The haut lords do factions. The Star Crèche has always moved as one even when it was committing
arguable treason, a decade ago, the haut ladies took no separate decisions."
"TheStar Crèche committed treason?" echoed Vorpatril in astonishment. "This certainly didn't get out!
Are you sure? I never heard of any mass executions that high in the Empire back then, and I should
have." He paused, and added in a baffled tone, "How could a bunch of haut-lady baby-makers commit
treason, anyway?"
"It didn't quite come off. For various reasons." Miles cleared his throat.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
"Lord Auditor Vorkosigan. This is your com link, yes? Are you there?" a new voice, and a very
welcome one, broke in.
"Sealer Greenlaw!" Miles cried happily. "Have you made it to safety? All of you?"
"We are back aboard Graf Station," replied the Sealer. "It seems premature to call it safety. And you?"
"Still trapped aboard theIdris . Although not totally without resources. Or ideas."
"I urgently need to speak to you. You can override that hothead Vorpatril."
"Ah, my com link is sustaining an open audio link with Admiral Vorpatril now, ma'am. You can speak to [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]