"General Haroche," Gregor went on, "I wanted you to give me your last report in person. You owe me that, and for the thirty years of service you have given me—nearly my whole life, my whole reign—I owe you that."

"What . . ." Haroche swallowed, "do you want me to say?"

"Tell me what you have done. Tell me why. Begin at the beginning, go on to the end. Put in all the facts. Leave out all the defenses. Your time for that will come later."

It could scarcely be simpler, or more overwhelming. Miles had seen Gregor quietly socially charming, quietly bravura-fey, quietly desperate, quietly determined. He'd never before seen him quietly angry. It was impressive, a weight all around like deep seawater. You could drown in it, still trying to strike upward to the air. Weasel out of that, Haroche, if you can. Gregor is not our master only in name.

Haroche sat silent for as long as he dared, then began, "I . . . had known about the Komarran prokaryotes for a long time. Since the beginning. Diamant of Komarran Affairs told me; we were coordinating on the sweep of Ser Galen's little group of saboteurs, lending men and help back and forth in the crisis. I was with him the day he put the capsules away downstairs. Didn't think anything more about it for years. Then I won my promotion to head of Domestic Affairs, the Yarrow case, do you remember that . . . sir?" This to Illyan. "You said my work on it was superb."

"No, Lucas," Illyan's voice was falsely pleasant. "Can't say as I do."

The silence after that threatened to extend itself for rather a long time. "Continue," said Gregor.

"I . . . began to be more and more aware of Vorkosigan, in and out of ImpSec HQ. There were rumors about him, some pretty wild stories, that he was some sort of galactic affairs hotshot, that he was being groomed as Illyan's successor. It was very clear that he was Illyan's pet. Then last year he was suddenly killed, though as it turned out . . . not quite dead enough."

A slight tic of his lip was all the expression Gregor allowed himself. After a glance at him, Haroche hurried on, "For whatever reason, during that period Illyan reorganized his chain of command, clarified his line of succession. I was made second-in-command of ImpSec. He told me he was thinking of choosing a new successor, in case anyone actually succeeded in dropping him in his tracks, and I was it. Then Vorkosigan turned up alive again.