A Civil Campaign

about your cousin Dono. Go away.'

'Actually, this is about your cousin Miles.'

Ivan eyed his ceremonial dress sword, sitting nearby in an umbrella canister made from an old-fashioned artillery shell. He wondered if driving it down on By's shod foot hard enough to make him recoil would allow getting the door shut and locked again. But the canister was just out of reach from the doorway. 'I don't want to hear anything about my cousin Miles, either.'

'It's something I judge he needs to know.'

'Fine. You go tell him, then.'

'I . . . would really rather not, all things considered.'

Ivan's finely tuned shit-detectors began to blink red, in some corner of his brain usually not active at this hour. 'Oh? What things?'

'Oh, you know . . . delicacy . . . consideration . . . family feeling . . .'

Ivan made a rude noise through his lips.

' . . . the fact that he controls a valuable vote in the Council of Counts . . .' By went on serenely.

'It's my Uncle Aral's vote Dono is after,' Ivan pointed out. 'Technically. He arrived back in Vorbarr Sultana four nights ago. Go hustle him.' If you dare.

By bared his teeth in a pained smile. 'Yes, Dono told me all about the Viceroy's grand entrance, and the assorted grand exits. I don't know how you managed to escape the wreckage unscathed.'

'Had Armsman Roic let me out the back door,' said Ivan shortly.

'Ah, I see. Very prudent, no doubt. But in any case, Count Vorkosigan has made it quite well known that he leaves his proxy to his son's discretion in nine votes out of ten.'

'That's his business. Not mine.'

'Do you have any more of that coffee?' By eyed the cup in his hand longingly.

'No,' Ivan lied.

'Then perhaps you would be so kind as to make me some more. Come, Ivan, I appeal to your common humanity. It's been a very long and tedious night.'

'I'm sure you can find someplace open in Vorbarr Sultana to sell you coffee. On your way home.' Maybe he wouldn't leave the sword in its scabbard . . .

By sighed, and leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms as if for a lengthy chat. His foot stayed planted. 'Whathave you heard from your cousin the Lord Auditor in the last few days?'

'Nothing.'

'And what do you think about that?'

'When Miles decides what I should think, I'm sure he'll tell me. He always does.'

By's lip curled up, but he tamped it straight again. 'Have you tried to talk to him?'

'Do I look that stupid? You heard about the party. The man crashed and burned. He'll be impossible for days. My Aunt Cordelia can hold his head under water this time, thanks.'

By raised his brows, perhaps taking this last remark for an amusing metaphor. 'Now, now. Miles's little faux pas wasn't irredeemable, according to Dono, whom I take to be a shrewder judge of women than we are.' By's face sobered, and his eyes grew oddly hooded. 'But it's about to become so, if nothing is done.'

Ivan hesitated. 'What do you mean?'

'Coffee, Ivan. And what I have to pass on to you is not, most definitely not, for the public hallway.'

I'm going to regret this. Grudgingly, Ivan hit the Door-open pad and stood aside.

Ivan handed By coffee and let him sit on his sofa. Probably a strategic error. If By sipped slowly enough, he could spin out this visit indefinitely. 'I'm on my way to work, mind,' Ivan said, lowering himself into the one comfortable chair, across from the sofa.

By took a grateful sip. 'I'll make it fast. Only my sense of Vorish duty keeps me from my bed even now.'

In the interests of speed and efficiency, Ivan let this one pass. He gestured for By to proceed, preferably succinctly.

'I went to a little private dinner with Alexi Vormoncrief last night,' By began.

'How exciting for you,' growled Ivan.

By waved his fingers. 'It proved to have moments of interest. It was at Vormoncrief House, hosted by Alexi's uncle Count Boriz. One of those little behind-the-scenes love-fests that give party politics its name, you know. It seems my complacent cousin Richars heard about Lord Dono's return at last, and hurried up to town to investigate the truth of the rumors. What he found alarmed him sufficiently to, ah, begin to exert himself on behalf of his vote-bag in the upcoming decision in the Council of Counts. As Count Boriz influences a significant block of Conservative Party votes in the Council, Richars, nothing if not efficient, started his campaign with him.'

'Get to the point, By,' sighed Ivan. 'What has all this to do with my cousin Miles? It's got nothing to do with me ; serving officers are officially discouraged from playing politics, you know.'

'Oh, yes, I'm quite aware. Also present, incidentally, were Boriz's son-in-law Sigur Vorbretten, and Count Tomas Vormuir, who apparently had a little run-in with your cousin in his Auditorial capacity recently.'

'The lunatic with the baby factory that Miles shut down? Yeah, I heard about that.'

'I knew Vormuir slightly, before this. Lady Donna used to go target- shooting with his Countess, in happier times. Quite the gossips, those girls. At any rate, as expected, Richars opened his campaign with the soup, and by the time the salad was served had settled upon a trade with Count Boriz: a vote for Richars in exchange for allegiance to the Conservatives. This left the rest of the dinner, from entr?e to dessert through the wine, free to drift onto other topics. Count Vormuir expanded much upon his dissatisfaction with his Imperial Audit, which rather brought your cousin, as it were, onto the table.'

Ivan blinked. 'Wait a minute. What were you doing hanging out with Richars? I thought you were on the other side in this little war.'

'Richars thinks I'm spying on Dono for him.'

'And are you?' If Byerly was playing both ends against the middle in this, Ivan cordially hoped he'd get both hands burned.

A sphinxlike smile lifted By's lips. 'Mm, shall we say, I tell him what he needs to know. Richars is quite proud of his cunning, for planting me in Dono's camp.'

'Doesn't he know about you getting the Lord Guardian of the Speaker's Circle to block him from taking possession of Vorrutyer House?'

'In a word, no. I managed to stay behind the curtain on that one.'

Ivan rubbed his temples, wondering which of his cousins By was