Cetaganda

nothing, but he gazed upon the collection for a long time, before turning away, as if satisfied. He congratulated me upon my loyal work, and left immediately thereafter.'

Slyke Giaja was certainly on Miles's short list. Two data points did not quite make a triangulation, but it was certainly better than nothing. 'He didn't ask to see the Key demonstrated, to prove it worked?'

'Key? No.'

'He knew, then.' Maybe, maybe … 'I bet we gave him food for thought, seeing his decoy sitting there all demure. I wonder which way he's going to jump next? Does he realize you know it's a decoy, or does he think you've been fooled?'

'I could not tell.'

It wasn't just him, Miles thought with glum relief, even the haut couldn't read other haut. 'He must realize he has only to wait eight days, and the truth will come out the first time your successor tries to use the Great Key. Or if not the truth, certainly the accusation against Barrayar. But is that his plan?'

'I don't know what his plan is.'

'He wants to involve Barrayar somehow, that I'm sure of. Perhaps even provoke armed conflict between our states.'

'This …' Rian turned one hand, curled as if around the stolen Great Key, 'would be an outrage, but surely . . . not cause enough for war.'

'Mm. This may only be Part One. This pis—angers you at us, logically Part Two ought to be something that angers us at you.' An uncomfortable new realization. Clearly, Lord X—Slyke Giaja?—was not done yet. 'Even if I'd handed the key back in that first hour—which I don't think was in his script—we still could not have proved we didn't switch it. I wish we hadn't jumped the Ba Lura. I'd give anything to know what story it was supposed to have primed us with.'

'I wish you hadn't either,' said Rian rather tartly, settling back in her station chair and twitching her vest, the first un-purposive move Miles had ever seen her make.

Miles's lips twisted in brief embarrassment. 'But—this is important—the consorts, the satrap governors' consorts. You never told me about them. They're in on this, aren't they? Why not on both sides?'

She nodded reluctant acknowledgment. 'But I do not suspect any of them of being involved in this treason. That would be … unthinkable.'

'But surely your Celestial Lady used them—why unthinkable? I mean, here a woman's got a chance to make herself an instant empress, right along with her governor. Or maybe even independently of her governor.'

The haut Rian Degtiar shook her head. 'No. The consorts do not belong to them. They belong to us.'

Miles blinked, slightly dizzy. 'Them. The men. Us. The women. Right?'

'The haut-women are the keepers. …' She broke off, evidently hopeless of explaining it to an outlander barbarian. 'It cannot be Slyke Giaja's consort.'

'I'm sorry. I don't understand.'

'It's … a matter of the haut-genome. Slyke Giaja is attempting to take something to which he has no right. It is not that he attempts to usurp the emperor. That is his proper part. It's that he attempts to usurp the empress. A vileness beyond . . . The haut-genome is ours and ours alone. In this he betrays not the empire, which is nothing, but the haut, which is everything.'

'But the consorts are in favor, presumably, of decentralizing the haut-genome.'

'Of course. They are all my Celestial Lady's appointees.'

'Do they . . . hm. Do they rotate every five years along with their governors? Or independently of them?'

'They are appointed for life, and removed only by the Celestial Lady's direct order.'

The consorts seemed powerful allies in the heart of the enemy camp, if only Rian could activate them on her behalf. But she dared not do so, alas, if one of them was herself a traitor. Miles thought bad words to himself.

'The empire,' he pointed out, 'is the support of the haut. Hardly nothing, even from a genetic point of view. The, er, prey to predator ratio is quite high.'

She did not smile at his weak zoological joke. He probably ought not to treat her to a recitation of his limericks, then, either. He tried again. 'Surely the Empress Lisbet did not mean to instantly fragment the support of the haut.'

'No. Not this fast. Maybe not even in this generation,' admitted Rian.

Ah. That made more sense, a timing much more in an old haut-lady's style. 'But now her plot has been hijacked to another's purpose. Someone with short-term, personal goals, someone she did not foresee.' He moistened his lips, and forged on. 'I believe your Celestial Lady's plans have fractured at their weak spot. The emperor protects the haut-women's control of the haut-genome; in turn you lend him legitimacy. A mutual support in both your interests. The satrap governors have no such motive. You can't give power away and keep it simultaneously.'

Her exquisite lips thinned unhappily, but she did not deny the point.

Miles took a deep breath. 'It's not in Barrayar's interests for Slyke Giaja to succeed in his power-grab. So far, I can serve you in this, milady. But it's not in Barrayar's interests for the Cetagandan Empire to be de-stabilized in the way your empress planned, either. I think I see how to foil Slyke. But in turn you must give up your attempt to carry out your mistress's posthumous vision.' At her astonished look he added weakly, 'At least for now.'

'How . . . would you foil Prince Slyke?' she asked slowly.

'Penetrate his ship. Retrieve the real Great Key. Replace it again with the decoy, if possible. If we're lucky he might not even realize the substitution till he got home, and then what could he do about it? You hand over the real Great Key to your successor, and it all passes away as smoothly as if it had never happened. Neither party can accuse the other without incriminating himself.' Or herself. 'I think it is, in all, the best outcome that can be humanly achieved. Any other scenario leads to disaster, of one sort or another. If we do nothing, the plot comes out in eight days regardless, and Barrayar gets framed. If I try and fail … at least I can't make it any worse.' Are you sure of that?

'How could you get aboard Slyke's ship?'

'I have an idea or two. The governors' consorts—and their ghem-ladies, and their servitors—can they go up and down from orbit freely?'

One porcelain hand touched her throat. 'More or less, yes.'

'So you get a lady with legitimate access, preferably someone relatively inconspicuous, to take me up. Not as myself, of course, I'd have to be disguised somehow. Once I'm aboard, I can take it from there. This gives us a problem of trust. Who could you trust? I don't suppose you yourself could . . . ?'

'I haven't left the capital for . . . several years.'

'You would not qualify as inconspicuous, then. Besides, Slyke Giaja has to be keeping a close eye on you. What about that ghem-lady you sent to meet me at Yenaro's party?'

Rian was looking decidedly unhappy. 'Someone in the consort's train would be a better choice,' she said reluctantly.

'The alternative,' he pointed out coolly, 'would be to let Cetagandan security do the job. Nailing Slyke would automatically clear Barrayar, and my problem would be solved.'

Well . . . not quite. Slyke Giaja, if Lord X, was the man who'd somehow jiggered the orbital station's traffic control, and who'd known what security blind spot would hold Ba Lura's body. Slyke Giaja had more security access than he bloody ought to. Was it so certain that Cetagandan Security would be able to pull off a surprise raid on the Imperial prince's ship?

'How would you disguise yourself?' she asked.

He tried to convince himself her tone was merely taken aback, not scornful. 'As a ba servitor, probably. Some of them are as short as I am. And you haut treat those people like they're invisible. Blind and deaf, too.'

'No man would disguise himself as a ba!'

'So much the better, then.' He grinned ironically at her reaction.

Her comconsole chimed. She stared at it in brief, astonished annoyance, then touched its code pad. The