"The one thing that gave me pause was that there was no way this could be a get-rich-quick scheme, even if the Komarran system of voting shares gives it a turbo-boost compared to Kibou.  The profit margin on what is arguably a service industry is razor-thin, yet WhiteChrys has been spending money like a drunken Vor lord.  Why go to all this trouble for a payoff you'll never live to see?  Until the last thing Wing said to me this afternoon, which was that he planned to have himself frozen on Komarr."

M'lord looked around proudly, as if expecting the room to burst into applause, and was plainly disappointed to receive three blank looks instead.

He inhaled, visibly backing up.  "Unpack, Miles, right.  What I now suspect is going on is a two-tiered scam.  I think there is an inner cadre of White Chrys executives who plan to ride out the years in cryo-stasis, and all be revived in time to collect the goodies.  In fact, if they're as smart as I think, they likely plan to take turns, so there's always someone on the team awake to look after their interests.  While they quietly, automatically, bloodlessly buy Komarr.  Or maybe not so bloodlessly, depending on whether you consider early freezing to be murder or suicide, or not.  The slowest, subtlest, and, I have to say, creepiest planetary conquest scheme ever devised!"

Even Vorlynkin jumped at that, his lips parting in consternation.  "Conquest!"

"I hardly know what else to call it.  But I still have a hell of a lot of dots to connect before I can sign off on this investigation.  As soon as we get your consulate deep data crawlers up and running, that's the first thing I want to look for—a list of WhiteChrys personnel who have lately shifted all their investments to WhiteChrys Solstice, and are planning to follow them in person.  Because, given the numbers, I also think it possible that this could be a secret group inside WhiteChrys who are gutting their own company to feather their nests."

"Whew!" said Raven, with proper admiration.  M'lord bestowed a pleased smile upon him.

Vorlynkin ran his hands through his hair.  "How do you plan to nail the bastards?  Bribing an Imperial Auditor may be as illegal as all hell on Barrayar, but we're on Kibou-daini.  Even if you could prove it—and I'm afraid my testimony would be suspect, here—I doubt Wing would get more than a slap on the wrist."