Chapters (25)
- Title Page
- Books by Lois McMaster Bujold
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Aftermaths
- About the Author
- Table of Contents
"That's you!" said Jin in excitement, pointing to Miles's face on the holovid. Miles didn't think it a flattering shot, but apparently it was recognizable. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not, just now. Jin went on, "Miles Vor—vor—vorkaseegain."
"Vor-ko-suh-g'n," Miles corrected automatically.
"So, you were caught up in that stupid mess," said Suze. "Galactic, are you?"
She was not as unaware of the news as Jin. Interesting. "The kidnappers seemed to be targeting off-worlders. A group of us had been assembled in the lobby for a guided tour. It was listed on the public schedule, so the snatch wasn't necessarily an inside job."
"You just said you were robbed."
"So I was, right down to my shoes. But the sedative they jabbed me with as they were dragging me off was an unfortunate choice. Instead of knocking me out, it made me manic. I broke away."
"Why didn't you go back to the hotel?"
"Well, and then there were the hallucinations. About ten hours of them, I think."
Suze regarded him in deep suspicion. Miles hoped it sounded too screwy a tale to have been made up.
Nine delegates taken—no, eight, subtracting Miles, although the kidnappers hadn't confessed to losing him. The Barrayaran consulate here, tiny as it was, would surely already have reported this, though the message could not yet have arrived home. Damn. Admiral Miles Naismith, free mercenary, had never owned a home address, nor hostages to fortune. Lord Auditor Miles Vorkosigan did. He couldn't not report in. And yet, what an interesting chance to become temporarily invisible had been handed to him . . .
His old covert ops instincts were kicking in, and he wasn't at all sure he wanted them. He could walk out of here and into any store or restaurant, and sooner or later find someone who would let him call and get help and a pickup. The call would, of course, be unsecured and wide open to anyone else looking for him, not limited to the authorities. Yet if the authorities, or at any rate, the powerful people who he suspected ran them, hadn't drawn his negative attention night before last, he'd not hesitate to do just that. But he was hesitating now.
Suze pulled up a swivel chair and plumped down on it, watching more closely as he read on. Jin shifted from foot to foot, growing bored as Miles, frowning, sped through holoscreens of mostly non-useful data. "Hey Suze-san, you want me to bring you some cinnamon rolls? Ako was just getting them out of the oven."
"Do they have coffee down there?" Miles asked, diverted. "Can you bring me coffee? Black?"
Jin wrinkled his nose. "I don't know how anybody can stand to drink that stuff."
"It's a taste you acquire when you're older. Rather like an interest in girls."
Suze made a noise in her throat that might have been either a laugh, or phlegm.