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“No. Thank you.” And I wish you all joy of each other.

Mark gave Miles a slit-eyed, feline glance of amusement.

What an extraordinary solution Mark had wrought, Miles thought. What a Deal. Did a Jacksonian defy his upbringing by joining the side of the angels, rebel by becoming incorruptible? So it appeared. I think my brother is more Jacksonian than he realizes. A renegade Jacksonian. The mind boggles.

At Fell’s gesture, one of his bodyguards carefully picked up the transparent box. Fell turned to Lilly.

“Well, old sister. You’ve had an interesting life.”

“I still have it,” smiled Lilly.

“For a while.”

“Long enough for me, greedy little boy. So this is the end of the road. The last of our blood-pact. Who would have imagined it, all those years ago, when we were climbing out of Ryoval’s sewers together?”

“Not I,” said Fell. They embraced each other. “Goodbye, Lilly.”

“Goodbye, Georie.”

Fell turned to Mark. “The Deal is the Deal, and for my House. This is for me. For old times’ sake.” He stuck out a thick hand. “May I shake your hand, sir?”

Mark looked bewildered and suspicious; but Lilly nodded to him. He allowed his hand to be engulfed by Fell’s.

“Thank you,” said Georish Stauber sincerely. He jerked his chin at his guards, and vanished down the lift tube in their company.

“Do you think this Deal will hold?” Mark asked Lilly in a thin, worried voice.

“Long enough. For the next few days, Georish will be much too busy assimilating his new acquisition. It will absorb all his resources and then some. And after that, it will be too late. Regret, later, yes. Pursuit and vengeance, no. It’s enough. It’s all we need.”

She stroked his hair fondly. “You just rest now. Have some more tea. We’re going to be very busy for a while.” She turned to gather up the young Duronas, “Robin! Violet! Come along quickly—” She hurried them into the interior of her quarters.

Mark slumped, looking very tired. He grimaced in bemusement at the teacup, switched it to his right hand, and swirled it thoughtfully before drinking.

Elli touched her half-armor helmet, listened, and vented a sudden bitter bark of laughter. “The ImpSec commander at Hargraves-Dyne Station is on the line. He says his reinforcements have arrived, and where should he send them?”

Miles and Mark looked at each other. Miles didn’t know what Mark was thinking, but most of the responses that were leaping to his mind were violently obscene.

“Home,” said Mark at last. “And they can give us a ride while they’re at it.”

“I have to get back to the Dendarii fleet,” said Miles urgently. “Ah … where are they, Elli?”

“On their way from Illyrica to rendezvous off Escobar, but you, sir, are going nowhere near them till ImpSec Medical has cleared you for active duty,” she said firmly. “The fleet is fine. You’re not. Illyan would pin my ears back if I sent you anywhere but home right now. And then there’s your father.”

“What about my father?” Miles asked. Elena had started to say something—icy terror seized his chest. A kaleidoscopic vision of assassinations, mortal illnesses, and political plots all rolled together spun through his mind. Not to mention aircar accidents.

“He had a major coronary failure while I was there,” said Mark. “They had him tied to a bed in ImpMil waiting for a heart transplant at the time I left. Actually, they should be doing the surgery right about now.”

“You were there?” What did you do to him? Miles felt like he’d just had his magnetic poles reversed. “I have to get home!”

“That’s what I just said,” said Mark wearily. “Why d’you think we trooped all the way back here, but to drag you home? It wasn’t for the free holiday at Ry Ryoval’s health spa, let me tell you. Mother thinks I’m the next Vorkosigan heir. I can deal with Barrayar, I think, but I sure as hell can’t deal with that.”

It was all too much, too fast. He sat down and tried to calm himself again, before he triggered another convulsion. That was just the sort of little physical weakness that could win one an immediate medical discharge from the Imperial Service, if one wasn’t careful about who witnessed it. He had assumed the convulsions were a temporary snag in his recovery. What if they were a permanent effect? Oh, God… .

“I am going to lend Lilly my ship,” said Mark, “since Baron Fell so-thoughtfully has stripped her of sufficient funds to buy thirty-six passages to Escobar.”

“What ship?” asked Miles. Not one of mine … !

“The one Mother gave me. Lilly ought to be able to sell it at Escobar orbit for a tidy profit. I can pay back Mother and get Vorkosigan Surleau out of hock, and still have an impressive amount of pocket-change. I’d like to have my own yacht, someday, but I really couldn’t use this one for a while.”

What? What? What?

“I was just thinking,” Mark went on, “that the Dendarii here could ride along with Lilly. Provide her with a little military protection in exchange for a free and fast ride back to the fleet. Save ImpSec the price of four commercial passages, too.”

Four? Miles glanced at Bel, so very silent throughout, who met his eyes bleakly.

“And get everybody the hell out of here, as fast as possible,” added Mark. “Before something else goes wrong.”

“Amen!” muttered Quinn.

Rowan and Elli, on the same ship? Not to mention Taura. What if they all got together and compared notes? What if they fell into a feud? Worse, what if they struck up an alliance and colluded to partition him by treaty? North Miles and South Miles. … It wasn’t, he swore, that he picked up so many women. Compared to Ivan, he was practically celibate. It was just that he never put any down. The accumulation could become downright embarrassing, over a long enough time-span. He needed … Lady Vorkosigan, to put an end to this nonsense. But even Elli the bold refused to volunteer for that duty.

“Yes,” said Miles, “that works. Home. Captain Quinn, arrange Mark’s and my transport with ImpSec. Sergeant Taura, would you please put yourself at Lilly Durona’s disposal? The sooner we evacuate from here the better, I agree. And, um, Bel … would you stay and talk with me, please.”

Quinn and Taura took the hint, and made themselves scarce. Mark … Mark was in on this, Miles decided. And anyway, he was a little afraid to ask Mark to get up. Afraid of what his movements would reveal. That flip phrase about Ry Ryoval’s health spa was entirely too obvious an attempt to conceal … what?

“Sit, Bel,” Miles nodded to Baron Fell’s vacated chair. It put them in an equilateral triangle, he and Mark and Bel. Bel nodded and settled, its helmet in its lap and its hood pushed back. Miles thought of how he’d perceived Bel as a female in this room five days ago, prior to his memory cascade. His eye had always conveniently interpreted Bel as male, before, for some reason. Strange. There was a brief, uneasy silence.

Miles swallowed, and broke it. “I can’t let you go back to command of the Ariel,” he said.

“I know,” said Bel.

“It would be bad for fleet discipline.”

“I know,” said Bel.

“It’s … not just. If you had been a dishonest herm, and kept your mouth shut, and kept on pretending to have been fooled by Mark, no one would ever have known.”

“I know,” said Bel. It added after a moment, “I had to get my command back, in the emergency. I didn’t think I could let Mark go on giving orders. Too dangerous.”

“To those who’d followed you.”

“Yes. And … I would have known,” added Bel.

“Captain Thorne,” Admiral Naismith sighed, “I must request your resignation.”

“You have it, sir.”