Each agreed to cover all our expenses in full. Leaves a very tidy

profit."

She actually hissed. "You better pray we never meet again."

"Goodbye, then."

They entered the chamber to collect their honors. Would Cavilo

have the iron nerve to accept hers on behalf of the Rangers her

twisted plots had destroyed? Yes, it turned out. Miles gagged quietly.

The first medal I ever won, Miles thought as the station commandant pinned his on him with embarrassingly fulsome praise,

and I can't even wear it at home. The medal, the uniform, and Admiral Naismith himself must soon return to the closet. Forever?

The life of Ensign Vorkosigan was not too attractive, by comparison.

And yet . . . the mechanics of soldiering were the same, from side to side. If there was any difference between himself and Cavilo, it must be in what they chose to serve. And how they chose to serve it. Not all

paths, but one path. . . .

* * *

When Miles arrived back on Barrayar for home leave, a few weeks

later, Gregor invited him for lunch at the Imperial Residence. They

PDF Transform

PDF Transform

Y

Y

Y

er

Y

er

B

2

B

2

B

.0

B

.0

A

A

Click here to buy

Click here to buy

w

w

w

w

w .

w

A B B YY.com

.A B BYY.com

sat at a wrought-iron table in the North Gardens, which were famous for having been designed by Emperor Ezar, Gregor's grandfather. In

summer the spot would be deeply shaded; now it was laced with light filtering through young leaves, rippling in the soft airs of spring. The guards did their guarding out of sight, the servants waited out of

earshot unless Gregor touched his pager. Replete with the first three courses, Miles sipped scalding coffee and plotted an assault on a

second pastry, which cowered across the table linen under a thick

camouflage of cream. Or would that overmatch his forces? This had it all over the contract-slave rations they'd once divided, not to mention Cavilo's doggie chews.

Even Gregor seemed to be seeing it all with new eyes. "Space

stations are really boring, y'know? All those corridors," he

commented, staring out past a fountain, eye following a curving brick path that dove into a riot of flowers. "I stopped seeing how beautiful Barrayar was, looking at it every day. Had to forget to remember.

Strange."

"There were moments I couldn't remember which space station I

was on," Miles agreed around a mouthful of pastry and cream. "The luxury trade's another matter, but the Hegen Hub stations did tend to the utilitarian." He grimaced at the associations of that last word.

The conversation wandered over the recent events in the Hegen

Hub. Gregor brightened upon learning that Miles had never issued an actual battle order in the Triumph's fleet tac room either, except to handle the internal security crisis as delegated by Tung.