Komarr

Stupid, irrational weeping. She muffled it in a towel, lest he, or Nikki, or her guests hear and investigate. I hate him. I hate myself. I hate him, for making me hate myself. . . .

Most of all, she despised in herself that crippling desire for physical affection, regenerating like a weed in her heart no matter how many times she tried to root it out. That neediness, that dependence, that love-of-touch must be broken first. It had betrayed her, worse than all the other things. If she could kill her need for love, then all the other coils which bound her, desire for honor, attachment to duty, above all every form of fear, could be brought into line. Austerely mystical, she supposed. If I can kill all these things in me, I can be free of him.

I'll be a walking dead woman, but I will be free.

She finished the weep, and washed her face, and took three painkillers. She could sleep now, she thought. But when she slipped back into the bedroom, she found Tien lying awake, his eyes a faint gleam in the shadows. He turned up the lamp at the whisper of her bare feet on the carpet. She tried to remember if insomnia was listed among the early symptoms of his disease. He raised the covers for her to slip beneath. 'What were you doing in there all that time, going for seconds without me?'

She wasn't sure if he was waiting for a laugh, if that was supposed to be a joke, or her indignant denial. Evading the problem, instead she said, 'Oh, Tien, I almost forgot. Your bank called this afternoon. Very strange. Something about requiring my countersignature and palm-print to release your pension account. I told them I didn't think that could be right, but that I would check with you and get back to them.'

He froze in the act of reaching for her. 'They had no business calling you about that!'

'If this was something you wanted me to do, you might have mentioned it earlier. They said they'd delay releasing it till I got back to them.'

'Delayed, no! You idiot bitch!' His right hand clenched in a gesture of frustration.

The hateful and hated epithet made her sick to her stomach. All that effort to pacify him tonight, and here he was right back on the edge. . . . 'Did I make a mistake?' she asked anxiously. 'Tien, what's wrong? What's going on?' She prayed he wasn't about to put his fist through the wall again. The noise—would her uncle hear, or that Vorkosigan fellow, and how could she explain—

'No . . . no. Sorry.' He rubbed his forehead instead, and she let out a covert sigh of relief. 'I forgot about it being under Komarran rules. On Barrayar, I never had any trouble signing out my pension accumulation when I left any job, any job that offered a pension, anyway. Here on Komarr I think they want a joint signature from the designated survivor. It's all right. Call them back first thing in the morning, though, and clear it.'

'You're not leaving your job, are you?' Her chest tightened in panic. Dear no, not another move so soon. . . .

'No, no. Hell, no. Relax.' He smiled with one side of his mouth.

'Oh. Good.' She hesitated. 'Tien … do you have any accumulation from your old jobs back on Barrayar?'

'No, I always signed it out at the end. Why let them have the use of the money, when we could use it ourselves? It served to tide us over more than once, you know.' He smiled bitterly. 'Under the circumstances, you have to admit, the idea of saving for my old age is not very compelling. And you wanted that vacation to South Continent, didn't you?'

'I thought you said that was a termination bonus.'

'So it was, in a sense.'

So … if anything horrible happened to Tien, she and Nikolai would have nothing. If he doesn't get treatment soon, something horrible is going to happen to him. 'Yes, but …' The realization struck her. Could it be . . . ? 'Are you getting it out for—we're going for the galactic treatment, yes? You and me and Nikolai? Oh, Tien, good! Finally. Of course. I should have realized.' So that's what he needed the money for, yes, at last! She rolled over and hugged him. But would it be enough? If it was less than a year's worth . . . 'Will it be enough?'

'I … don't know. I'm checking.'

'I saved a little out of my household allowance, I could put that in,' she offered. 'If it will get us underway sooner.'

He licked his lips, and was silent for a moment. 'I'm not sure. I don't like to let you …'

'This is exactly what I saved it for. I mean, I know I didn't earn it in the first place, but I managed it—it can be my contribution.'

'How much do you have?'

'Almost four thousand Imperial marks!' She smiled, proud of her frugality.

'Oh!' He looked as though he were making an inner calculation. 'Yes, that would help significantly.'

He dropped a kiss on her forehead, and she relaxed further. She said, 'I never thought about raiding your pension for the medical quest. I didn't realize we could. How soon can we get away?'

'That's … the next thing I'll have to find out. I would have checked it out this week, but I was interrupted by my department suffering a severe outbreak of Imperial Auditors.'

She smiled in brief appreciation of his wit. He'd used to make her laugh more. If he had grown more sour with age, it was understandable, but the blackness of his humor had gradually come to weary her more than amuse her. Cynicism did not seem nearly so impressively daring to her now as it had when she was twenty. Perhaps this decision had lightened his heart, too.

Do you really think he'll do what he says, this time? Or will you be a fool? Again. No … if suspicion was the deadliest possible insult, then trust was always right, even if it was mistaken. Provisionally relieved by his new promise, she snuggled into the crook of his body, and for once his heavy arm flung across her seemed more comfort than trap. Maybe this time, they would finally be able to put their lives on a rational basis.

'Shopping?' Lord Vorkosigan echoed over the breakfast table the next morning. He had been the last of the household to arise; Uncle Vorthys was already busy on the comconsole in Tien's study, Tien had left for work, and Nikki was off to school. Vorkosigan's mouth stayed straight, but the laugh lines at the corners of his eyes crinkled. 'That's an offer seldom made to the son of my mother. . . . I'm afraid I don't need-no, wait, I do need something, at that. A wedding present.'

'Who do you know who's getting married?' Ekaterin asked, relieved her suggestion had taken root, primarily because she didn't have a second one to offer. She prepared to be helpful.

'Gregor and Laisa.'

It took her a moment to realize he meant the Emperor and his new Komarran fiancee. The surprising betrothal had been announced at Winterfair; the wedding was to be at Midsummer. 'Oh! Uh . . . I'm not sure you can find anything in the Serifosa Dome that would be appropriate—maybe in Solstice they would have the kind of shops . . . oh, dear.'

'I have to come up with something, I'm supposed to be Gregor's Second and Witness on their wedding circle. Maybe I could find something that would remind Laisa of home. Though possibly that's not a good idea—I'm not sure. I don't want to chance making her homesick on her honeymoon. What do you think?'

'We could look, I suppose …' There were exclusive shops she'd never dared enter in certain parts of the dome. This could be an excuse to venture inside.

'Duv and Delia, too, come to think of it. Yes, I've gotten way behind on my social duties.'

'Who?'

'Delia Koudelka's a childhood friend of mine. She's marrying Commodore Duv Galeni, who is the new Chief of Komarran Affairs for Imperial Security. You may not have heard of him yet, but you will. He's Komarran- born.'

'Of Barrayaran parents?'

'No, of Komarran resistance fighters. We seduced him to the service of the Imperium. We've agreed it was the shiny boots that turned the trick.'

He was so utterly deadpan, he had to be joking. Hadn't he? She smiled uncertainly.

Uncle Vorthys lumbered into her kitchen then, murmuring, 'More coffee?'