Miles Errant

Lois McMaster Bujold

This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.

Copyright © 2002 by Lois McMaster Bujold. "Borders of Infinity" © 1989, Brothers in Arms © 1989, Mirror Dance © 1994, all by Lois McMaster Bujold.

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form.

A Baen Books Original Omnibus

Baen Publishing Enterprises
P.O. Box 1403
Riverdale, NY 10471
www.baen.com

ISBN: 0-7434-3558-3

Cover art by Steven Hickman

First printing, September 2002

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Bujold, Lois McMaster.

Miles errant / by Lois McMaster Bujold.
p. cm.
"A Baen Books original omnibus"—T.p. verso.
Contents: Borders of infinity—Brothers in arms—Mirror Dance.
ISBN 0-7434-3558-3 (pbk.)
1. Vorkosigan, Miles (Ficticious character)—Fiction. 2. Science fiction, American.
I. Title.

PS3552.U39 A6 2002
813'.54—dc21 2002071158

Distributed by Simon & Schuster
1230 Avenue of the Americas
New York, NY 10020

Production by Windhaven Press, Auburn, NH
Printed in the United States of America

BAEN BOOKS by LOIS McMASTER BUJOLD

The Vorkosigan Saga:

The Warrior's Apprentice
The Vor Game
Cetaganda
Borders of Infinity
Brothers in Arms
Mirror Dance
Memory
Komarr
A Civil Campaign
Diplomatic Immunity
Ethan of Athos
Falling Free
The Spirit Ring

Omnibus Editions:

Cordelia's Honor
Young Miles
Miles, Mystery & Mayhem
Miles Errant

"THE BORDERS OF INFINITY"

How could I have died and gone to hell without noticing the transition? 

The opalescent force dome capped a surreal and alien landscape, frozen for a moment by Miles's disorientation and dismay. The dome defined a perfect circle, half a kilometer in diameter. Miles stood just inside its edge, where the glowing concave surface dove into the hard-packed dirt and disappeared. His imagination followed the arc buried beneath his feet to the far side, where it erupted again to complete the sphere. It was like being trapped inside an eggshell. An unbreakable eggshell.

Within was a scene from an ancient limbo. Dispirited men and women sat, or stood, or mostly lay down, singly or in scattered irregular groups, across the breadth of the arena. Miles's eye searched anxiously for some remnant of order or military grouping, but the inhabitants seemed splashed randomly as a liquid across the ground.

Perhaps he had been killed just now, just entering this prison camp. Perhaps his captors had betrayed him to his death, like those ancient Earth soldiers who had lured their victims sheeplike into poisoned showers, diverting and soothing their suspicions with stone soap, until their final enlightenment burst upon them in a choking cloud. Perhaps the annihilation of his body had been so swift, his neurons had not had time to carry the information to his brain. Why else did so many antique myths agree that hell was a circular place?

Dagoola IV Top Security Prison Camp #3. This was it? This naked . . . dinner plate? Miles had vaguely visioned barracks, marching guards, daily head counts, secret tunnels, escape committees.