Miles Errant - Lois McMaster Bujold [354]
"No. Thank you." Rowan bit out.
The Baron shrugged. Did the Baronne look faintly relieved?
He interrupted urgently, "Baron—was it really Ryoval's squad who took Admiral Naismith? Do you know where?"
"Well, now, that's an interesting question," Vasa Luigi murmured, eyeing him. "I've been trying to contact Ry all day, without success. I suspect that wherever Ry is, your clone-twin is also—Admiral."
He took a deep breath. "Why do you think I am the Admiral, sir?"
"Because I met the other one. Under telling circumstances. I don't think the real Admiral Naismith would permit his bodyguard to give him orders—do you?"
His head was aching. "What's Ryoval doing to him?"
"Really, Vasa, this is not dinner conversation," reproved the Baronne. She glanced curiously at him. "Besides—why should you care?"
" 'Miles, what have you done with your baby brother?' " The quote came from nowhere, fell out of his mouth. He touched his lips uncertainly. Rowan stared at him. So did Lotus.
Vasa Luigi said, "As to your question, Admiral, it turns on whether Ry has come to the same conclusions as I did. If he has—likely he's not doing much. If he hasn't, his methods will depend upon your clone-twin."
"I . . . don't understand."
"Ryoval will study him. Experiment. His choice of actions will flow from his analysis of his subject's personality."
That didn't sound so bad. He pictured multiple-choice tests. He frowned, bewildered.
"Ry is an artist, in his way," continued the Baron. "He can create the most extraordinary psychological effects. I've seen him turn an enemy into a slave utterly devoted to his person, who will obey any order. The last man who attempted to assassinate him and had the misfortune to live ended up serving drinks at Ryoval's private parties, and begging to offer gratification of any kind to any guest on request."
"What did you ask for?" the Baronne inquired dryly.
"White wine. It was before your time, love. I watched, though. The man had the most haunted eyes."
"Are you considering selling me to Ryoval?" he asked slowly.
"If he's the highest bidder, Admiral. Your and your clone-twin's raid upon my property—and I am still not certain you did not plan it together from first to last—was very costly to my House. And," his eyes glinted, "personally annoying. I'll not bother avenging myself upon a cryo-amnesic, but I do wish to shave my losses. If I sell you to Ry, you'll be better punished than even I care to think about. Ry would be delighted to own a matched pair." Vasa Luigi sighed. "House Ryoval will always be a minor house, I fear, as long as Ry allows his personal gratification to outweigh its profits. It's a shame. I could do so much more with his resources."
The girl returned, served little plates of hors d'ouvers, refreshed their drinks, some wine-and-fruit concoction, and wafted out again. Slowly. Vasa Luigi's eyes followed her. The Baronne's eyes narrowed, noting his gaze. Her lashes swept down, focusing on her drink, as his head turned back.
"What about . . . the Dendarii Mercenaries, as a bidder?" Yes! Just let Bharaputra make that offer, and the Dendarii would come knocking on his door. With a plasma cannon. High bid indeed. This game must be a short one. Bharaputra could not put him up for auction without revealing that he had him, and then, and then . . . what? "If nothing else, you could use their competition to force Ryoval's bid up," he added slyly.
"Their resources are too finite, I fear. And not here."
"We saw them. Yesterday."
"A mere covert ops team. No ships. No back-up. I understand they only revealed their identity at all in order to get Lilly to talk with them. But . . . I have reason to believe there is another player in this game. My instincts twitch, looking at you. I have the oddest urge to take a modest middleman's profit, and let the negative bidders apply to House Ryoval." The Baron chuckled.
Negative bidders? Oh. People