Miles in Love - Lois McMaster Bujold [111]
"I've not yet lost a parent," said Vorkosigan. "Grandparents are different, I think. They are old, it's their destiny, somehow. I was shaken when my grandfather died, but my world was not. I think my father's was, though."
"Yes," she looked up gratefully, "that's the difference exactly. It's like an earthquake. Something that isn't supposed to move suddenly dumps you over. I think the world is going to be a scarier place for Nikki this morning."
"Have you hit him with his Vorzohn's Dystrophy news yet?"
"I'm letting him sleep. I'll tell him after breakfast. I know better than to stress a kid who has low blood sugar."
"Odd, I feel the same way about troops. Is there anything . . . can I help? Or would you prefer to be private?"
"I'm not sure. He doesn't have school today anyway. Weren't you taking my uncle out to the experiment station this morning?"
"Directly. It can wait an extra hour for this."
"I think . . . I would like it if you can stay. It's not good to make of the disease something all secret that's too awful to even talk about. That was Tien's mistake."
"Yes," he said encouragingly. "It's just a thing. You deal with it."
Her brows rose. "As in, one damn thing after another?"
"Yes, very like." He smiled at her, his gray eyes crinkling. Through whatever combination of luck and clever surgery, no scars marred his face, she realized. "It works, as tactics if not strategy."
True to his offer, Lord Vorkosigan drifted back into her kitchen as Nikki was finishing his breakfast. He lingered suggestively, stirring the coffee he took black and leaning against the far counter. Ekaterin took a deep breath and settled beside Nikki at the table, her own half-empty and cold cup a mere prop. Nikki eyed her warily.
"You won't be going to school tomorrow," she began, hoping to strike a positive note.
"Is that when Da's funeral is? Will I have to burn the offering?"
"Not yet. Your Grandmadame has asked that we bring his body back to Barrayar, to bury beside your uncle who died when you were little." Tien's mother's return message had come in by comconsole this morning, beamed and jumped through the wormhole-relays. In writing, as Ekaterin's had been, and perhaps for similar reasons; writing allowed one to leave so much out. "We'll do all the ceremonies and burn the offering then, when everyone can be there."
"Will we have to take him on the jumpship with us?" asked Nikki, looking disturbed.
From the side of the room Lord Vorkosigan said, "In fact, ImpS—the Imperial Civil Service will take care of all those arrangements, with your permission, Madame Vorsoisson. He will probably be back home before you are, Nikki."
"Oh," said Nikki.
"Oh," Ekaterin echoed. "I . . . I was wondering. I thank you."
He sketched a bow. "Allow me to pass on your mother-in-law's address and instructions. You have enough other things to do."
She nodded, and turned back to her son. "Anyway, Nikki . . . you and I are going to Solstice tomorrow, to visit a clinic there. We never mentioned this to you before, but you have a condition called Vorzohn's Dystrophy."
Nikki made an uncertain face. "What's that?"
"It's a disorder where, with age, your body stops making certain proteins in quite the right shape to do their job. Nowadays the doctors can give you some retrogenes that produce the proteins correctly, to make up for it. You're too young to have any symptoms, and with this fix, you never will." At Nikki's age, and on the first pass, it was probably not yet necessary to