"Yes, in fact. He's doing all he should. And he learns fast, and doesn't make the same mistake . . . well, more than twice at most. It's the situation I'm not happy with. It seems singularly devoid of handles, strings . . . there are no loose ends to yank and see what happens. Or none I've found yet."

Gregor nodded in sympathy. "You've just started the real investigation."

"Yeah." Miles hesitated. "This thing has blown up a lot bigger and more complicated than I was anticipating, back when I was just being pissed at the way ImpSec was handling Illyan's medical treatment. It's no joke now. Are you sure you . . . don't want to put a real Auditor on the case? Vorhovis, for example."

"Vorhovis is still on Komarr. It would take a week to recall him. And I want him there."

"Or one of the others."

"What is this, funk?" Gregor studied Miles through narrowed eyes. "Do you want me to relieve you?"

Miles opened his mouth, closed it, and finally said, "I thought you should have an opportunity to change your mind."

"I see." Gregor sucked on his lower lip. "Thank you, Lord Vorkosigan. But no."

I hope you're not making a major mistake, Gregor. But he didn't say it out loud.

The coffee Gregor had ordered upon Miles's arrival appeared at last, borne on a tray not by Gregor's majordomo, but by Lady Alys Vorpatril herself. She had Laisa Toscane in tow. Gregor's face lit.

"Are you ready for a break, gentlemen?" Lady Alys inquired, setting the tray down with a flourish and frowning at Miles's boots. He hastily removed his feet from the table and sat up straight.

"Yes," said Gregor, holding out his hand to Laisa, who took it and sat—snuggled—in beside him. Miles felt a momentary pang of envy.

"We're actually done, I think," added Miles. "For today." My report is, there's nothing to report. Feh.

A concerned and quizzical half-smile curved Laisa's lips. "Gregor and Lady Alys have told me about Illyan. I suppose I feel . . . sorry? No, that's not the right word. Awed, maybe, that such an icon has fallen. He was such a legend on Komarr. And yet when I finally met him, he seemed just an ordinary fellow."

"Hardly that," said Lady Alys.

"Well, not really ordinary, but that's the impression he seemed to want to give. So quiet. He was not . . . what I expected."

Not a monster? Laisa was a polite Komarran; you had to give her credit for that. "Real monsters," observed Miles, answering her thought instead of her words, "often are just ordinary men. Only more confused in their thinking. Illyan was one of the least confused men I know."

Laisa colored faintly. On her, it looked good. She cleared her throat, and forged on. "We actually came in for a reason, Lord Vorkosigan."

"You may as well start calling me Miles, in private."