"I started with you.  I'd planned to go on down the row of every corp in the Cryopolis, after."

"I'm so glad you came to me first.  You did the right thing."

"So I hope, but what do you mean?"

"We have to think first of protecting the value of WhiteChrys and the interests of its shareholders, including yourself.  First—after checking the facts, of course—we have this clear, if obviously limited, opportunity to unload our own liabilities.  It would be the height of irresponsibility not to seize it.  It would be far better for WhiteChrys to let this problem come out slowly and naturally from other sources, rather than springing it on the public all at once and creating an avoidable crisis."

"I'm not sure I follow you."  I'm afraid I do.  Damn.  This dog won't fight.

Wing shook his head.  "Every other responsible cryocorp operating team would agree with me.  This isn't something to publicize.  It could be very damaging not only to WhiteChrys, but to the whole industry, even to the economy at large."

"So you're talking not a joint suit, but a, but a, a joint cover-up?"  Don't sputter, Miles told himself.

"Cover-up is too strong a term."  Wing sighed as if in regret.  "Though it would certainly be preferable all around.  But if this problem has come so close to the surface that even an off-worlder's casual inspection can uncover it, it's clearly far too late for concealment to be effective.  The news must be about to break."

Not so casual as all that, but Miles wasn't about to tell Wing the details.

Wing tapped his fingertips on the black glass of his desktop.  "A small head-start for us, I think.  And then—yes—I think it would be best for me to go to our competitor colleagues myself.  Considering the aspects of this that threaten us all.  Perhaps in a few weeks.  Ah, yes!  Lord Vorkosigan, your investment will be safe with us.  Just leave it to me!"  He sat back, smiling again, although gears plainly turned behind his eyes.

"But where, in all this, do those NewEgypt bastards get nailed to the wall?"  Miles tried to keep his tone plaintive and not outraged.

"Have you ever heard the phrase, Living well is the best revenge?"

"Where I come from, someone's head in a bag is generally considered the best revenge."

"Well, ah, hm.  Different cultures and all that.  Well.  You have delivered me a great deal to do this afternoon, none of which was on my previous schedule."  A broad hint, that, for Miles to decamp and let Wing go grapple with his damage control.

Miles could just picture it; the corps drawing together not in collision but in collusion.  "You've given me a lot to think about, Wing-san."

"And the reverse, I'm sure.  Some tea, before you go?"  Wing was clearly torn between social etiquette and getting on with this new crisis.