Miles nodded.  "If secrecy, which was our first defense, has failed, then the consulate would be a better location for fending off legal attacks.  Granted it hasn't much advantage for illegal, physical attacks.  I have some help on the way for that, but they're not here yet."

Raven's lips pressed together in medical reluctance.  "Tomorrow?  Not that her bio-isolation isn't compromised already, with those kids in and out.  Little vectors that they are."

"Well, load her up with every immune system booster in your arsenal—"

"I already have."

Miles made a thumbs-up gesture.  "Then plan to decamp as early as possible tomorrow.  In fact, Vorlynkin, if you could stay here tonight, and be ready to move her and her kids out at a moment's notice, that might be, um, prudent."  He added reluctantly, "Leiber, too."

"Do you think NewEgypt will react that quickly?" asked Vorlynkin.

"I truly do not know.  My impression of all these cryocorp chiefs so far is that they'd rather hunker down behind a wall of lawyers than, say, hire mercs, but this crew has already shown it can move fast at need.  And, despite the lethal screw-ups, their actions eighteen months ago must have seemed successful at the time.  I wish them a distraught and sleepless night figuring it all out, anyway."

Vorlynkin frowned, taking this in.

Miles turned to his clone-brother.  "And you?"

"Kareen and I jumped over from Escobar to look into a real estate deal Raven spotted," said Mark, unperturbed by the foregoing.  "The short version is, Madame Suze's setup could be the perfect venue for large-scale human trials of the Durona Group's latest life-extension treatment.  If so, I mean to buy the place from the unhappy current owner-of-record, this fellow Fuwa—lock, stock, and liabilities."  Mark jerked a thumb downward to indicate the frozen sleepers stacked in the hidden corridors below.  "I'd take it as a personal favor, Lord Auditor Brother, if you don't mess up my Deal."

Miles's lips twitched.  "Happily, Vor views on nepotism remain culturally generous, even in what our late grandfather would have called this degenerate age.  But don't mess up my case."

"Haven't the least interest in your case, thanks.  Which is what, by the way?"

"Raven didn't apprise you?"

"No, he's been virtuously close-mouthed."

Well, no one could say that a Durona didn't earn his or her pay.  "It all started with an attempt by a Kibou cryonics company called WhiteChrys to expand onto Komarr."

"That smells."

"Oh, you've heard of it?"

"Not before now.  But at a glance, there's a physical, financial, and cultural distance that doesn't explain itself."  Mark's lips curved slightly.  "And then there's you, popping up in the middle of it.  Always a tip-off."