Miles Errant - Lois McMaster Bujold [94]
"I saw him for just a few seconds," Miles went on, "when they made the switch." His hand touched the absence of a dagger, massaged the back of his neck. "Do I—really look like that?"
"I thought it was you. Till the end. He told me he was practicing. Testing."
"Did he pass?"
"He was in here for four or five hours."
Miles winced. "That's bad. That's very bad."
"I thought so."
"I see." A sticky silence filled the room. "Well, historian. And how do you tell a forgery from the real thing?"
Galeni shook his head, then touched his hand to his temple as though he wished he hadn't; blinding headache, apparently. Miles had one too. "I don't believe I know anymore." Galeni added reflectively, "He saluted."
A dry grin cracked one corner of Miles's mouth. "Of course, there could be just one of me, and all this a ploy to drive you crazy. . . ."
"Stop that!" Galeni almost shouted. A ghastly answering smile lit his face for a moment nonetheless.
Miles glanced up at the light. "Well, whoever I am, you should still be able to tell me who they are. Ah—I hope it's not the Cetagandans? I would find that just a little too weird for comfort, in light of my . . . duplicate. He's a surgical construct, I trust." Not a clone—please, don't let him be my clone. . . .
"He said he was a clone," said Galeni. "Of course, at least half of what he said was lies, whoever he was."
"Oh." Stronger exclamations seemed wholly inadequate.
"Yes. It made me rather wonder about you. The original you, that is."
"Ah . . . hem! Yes. I think I know now why I popped out with that . . . that story when the reporter cornered me. I'd seen him once before. In the tubeway, when I was out with Commander Quinn. Eight, ten days ago now. They must have been maneuvering in to make the switch. I thought I was seeing myself in the mirror. But he was wearing the wrong uniform, and they must have aborted."
Galeni glanced down at his own sleeve. "Didn't you notice?"
"I had a lot on my mind."
"You never reported this!"
"I was on some pain meds. I thought it might be a little hallucination. I was a bit stressed out. By the time I'd got back to the embassy I'd forgotten about it. And besides," he smirked weakly, "I didn't think our working relationship would benefit from planting serious doubts about my sanity."
Galeni's lips compressed with exasperation, then softened with something like despair. "Perhaps not."
It alarmed Miles, to see despair in Galeni's face. He babbled on, "Anyway, I was relieved to realize I hadn't suddenly become clairvoyant. I'm afraid my subconscious must be brighter than the rest of my brain. I just didn't get its message." He pointed upward again. "Not Cetagandans?"
"No." Galeni leaned back against the far wall, stone-faced. "Komarrans."
"Ah," Miles choked. "A Komarran plot. How . . . fraught."
Galeni's mouth twisted. "Quite."
"Well," said Miles thinly, "they haven't killed us yet. There must be some reason to keep us alive."
Galeni's lips drew back on a deathly grin, his eyes crinkling. "None whatsoever." The words came out in a wheeing chuckle, abruptly cut off. A private joke between Galeni and the light fixture, apparently. "He imagines he has reason," Galeni explained, "but he's very mistaken." The bitter thrust of those words was also directed upward.
"Well, don't tell them," said Miles through his teeth. He took a deep breath. "Come on, Galeni, spill it. What happened the morning you disappeared from the embassy?"
Galeni sighed, and seemed to compose himself. "I got a call that morning. From an old . . . Komarran acquaintance. Asking me to meet him."
"There was no log of a call. Ivan checked your comconsole."
"I erased it. That was a mistake, though I didn't realize it at the time. But something he'd said led me to think this might be a lead into the mystery of your peculiar orders."
"So I did convince you my orders had to have been screwed up."
"Oh, yes. But it was clear that if