Mirror Dance

you think of the planet Barrayar, as a place to live and work?” he inquired cautiously.

Her nose wrinkled. “That backward pit? Why?”

“I … have some interests there. In fact, it’s where I’m planning to retire. It’s a very beautiful place, really. And underpopulated. They encourage, um … children.” He was skirting dangerously close to breaking his cover, the strained identity he’d risked so much lately to retain. “And there’d be lots of work for a galactic-trained physician.”

“I’ll bet. But I’ve been a slave all my life. Vhy would I choose to be a subject, when I could choose to be a citizen?” She smiled wryly, and came to him, and twined her arms around his shoulders. “Those five days we were locked up together at Vasa Luigi’s—that wasn’t an effect of the imprisonment, was it. That’s the way you really are, when you’re well.”

“Pretty much,” he admitted.

“I’d always wondered what adult hyperactives did for a living. Running several thousand troops would just about absorb your energies, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes,” he sighed.

“I think I’ll always love you, some. But living with you full-time would drive me crazy. You are the most incredibly domineering person I think I’ve ever met.”

“You’re supposed to fight back,” he explained. “I rely on—” he couldn’t say Elli, or worse, all my women, “my partner fighting back. Otherwise, I couldn’t relax and be myself.”

Right. Too much togetherness had destroyed their love, or at least her illusions. The Barrayaran system of using go-betweens to make marital arrangements was beginning to look better all the time. Maybe it would be best to get safely married first, and then get to know each other. By the time his bride figured him out, it would be too late for her to back out. He sighed, and smiled, and gave Rowan an exaggerated, courtly bow. “I shall be pleased to visit you on Escobar, milady.”

“That would be joust perfect, sir,” she returned, deadpan.

“Ow!” Dammit, she could be the one, she underestimated herself—

Lilly Junior, sitting on the sofa watching all this with fascination, coughed. Miles glanced at her, and thought about her account of her time with the Dendarii.

“Does Mark know you’re here, Lilly?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I’ve been with Rowan.”

“The last time Mark saw you, you were going back with Vasa Luigi. I … think he’d like to know you changed your mind.”

“He tried to talk me into staying on the ship. He didn’t talk so well as you,” she admitted.

“He made this all happen. He bought your passage out of here.” And Miles wasn’t sure he wanted to think about the coin. “I just trailed along. Come on. At least say hello, goodbye, and thank you. It will cost you nothing, and I suspect it would mean something to him.”

Reluctantly, she rose, and allowed him to tow her out. Rowan gave them a nod of approval, and returned to her hasty packing.

Chapter Thirty-One

“Did you find them?” Lord Mark asked.

“Yes,” said Bothari-Jesek tightly.

“Did you destroy them?”

“Yes.”

Mark flushed, and leaned his head back against Lilly’s chair, feeling the weight of gravity. He sighed. “You looked at them. I told you not to.”

“I had to, to be sure I was getting the right ones.”

“No, you didn’t. You could simply have destroyed them all.”

“That’s what I finally did. I started to look. Then I turned off the sound. Then I put them on fast-forward. Then I started just spot-checking.”

“I wish you hadn’t.”

“I wish I hadn’t. Mark, there were hundreds of hours of those holovids. I couldn’t believe there was so much.”

“Actually, there were only about fifty hours. Or maybe it was fifty years. But there were multiple simultaneous recordings. I could always see a holovid pick-up hovering, out of the corner of my eye, no matter what was going on. I don’t know if Ryoval made them to study and analyze, or just to enjoy. A bit of both, I guess. His powers of analysis were appalling.”

“I … don’t understand some of what I saw.”

“Would you like me to explain it to you?”

“No.”

“Good.”

“I can understand why you’d want them destroyed. Out of context … they would have been a horrible lever for blackmail. If you want to swear me to secrecy, I’ll vow anything.”

“That’s not why. I have no intention of keeping any of this a secret. Nobody is ever going to get a handle on me again. Pull my secret strings ever again. In general outline, you can tell the whole wormhole nexus, for all I care. But—if ImpSec got hold of those holovid recordings, they would end up in Illyan’s hands. And he would not be able to keep them from the Count, or the Countess either, though I’m sure he’d try. Or, eventually, Miles. Can you imagine the Count or the Countess or Miles watching that shit?”

She drew in her breath between her teeth. “I begin to see.”

“Think about it. I have.”

“Lieutenant Iverson was furious, when he broke in and found the melted casings. He’s going to send complaints up through channels.”

“Let him. If ImpSec cares to air any complaints about me or mine, I will air my complaints about them. like, where the hell were they for the last five days. I will have no compunction nor mercy about calling in that debt on anyone from Illyan down. Cross me, will they …” He trailed off in a hostile mutter.

Her face was greenish-white. “I’m … so sorry, Mark.” Her hand touched his, hesitantly.

He seized her wrist, held it hard. Her nostrils flared, but she did not wince. He sat up, or tried to. “Don’t you dare pity me. I won. Save your sympathy for Baron Ryoval, if you must. I took him. Suckered him. I beat him at his own game, on his own ground. I will not allow you to turn my victory into defeat for the sake of your damned … feelings.” He released her wrist; she rubbed it, watching him levelly. “That’s the thing of it. I can shed Ryoval, if they’ll let me. But if they know too much—if they had those damned vids—they’d never be able to leave it alone, ever. Their guilt would keep them coming back to it, and they would keep me coming back to it. I don’t want to have to fight Ry Ryoval in my head, or in their heads, for the rest of my life. He’s dead, I’m not, it’s enough.”

He paused, snorted. “And you have to admit, it would be particularly bad for Miles.”

“Oh, yes,” Bothari-Jesek breathed agreement.

Outside, the Dendarii personnel shuttle, with Sergeant Taura piloting, lifted the first load of Duronas to Mark’s yacht in orbit. He paused to watch it rise from sight. Yes. Go, go, go. Get out of this hole, you, me, all of us clones. Forever. Go be human too, if you can. If I can.

Bothari-Jesek looked back at him and said, “They’ll insist on a physical exam, you know.”

“Yeah, they’ll see some. I can’t conceal the beatings, and God knows I can’t conceal the force-feedings— grotesque, weren’t they?”

She swallowed, and nodded. “I thought you were going to—oh, never mind.”

“Right. I told you not to look. But the longer I can avoid examination by a competent ImpSec doctor, the vaguer I can be about all the rest.”

“You have to be treated, surely.”