Miles, Mystery & Mayhem - Lois McMaster Bujold [76]
"Real facts. As opposed to what other kind of facts?"
"We absolutely can't bring up any mention of the Great Key, or the haut Rian. I figure we can tell events exactly as they happened, just leave out that one tiny detail."
"You figure, do you? You must be using a different kind of math than the rest of the universe does. Do you realize how pissed Vorreedi and the Ambassador are going to be about our concealing that little incident?"
"I've got Vorreedi under control, temporarily. He thinks I'm on a mission from Simon Illyan."
"That means you aren't. I knew it!" Ivan groaned, and pulled a pillow over his face, and squashed it tight.
Miles pulled it out of his grasp. "I am now. Or I would be, if Illyan knew what I know. Bring that nerve disruptor. But don't pull it out unless I tell you to."
"I am not shooting your commanding officer for you."
"You're not shooting anybody. And anyway, Vorreedi's not my commander." That could be an important legal point, later. "I may want it for evidence. But not unless the subject comes up. We volunteer nothing."
"Never volunteer, yes, that's the ticket! You're catching on at last, coz!"
"Shut up. Get up." Miles threw Ivan's undress uniform jacket across his prostrate form. "This is important! But you have to stay absolutely cool. I may be completely off-base, and panicking prematurely."
"I don't think so. I think you're panicking post-maturely. In fact, if you were panicking any later it would be practically posthumously. I've been panicking for days."
Miles tossed Ivan his half-boots, with ruthless finality. Ivan shook his head, sat up, and began pulling them on.
"Do you remember," Ivan sighed, "that time in the back garden at Vorkosigan House, when you'd been reading all those military histories about the Cetagandan prison camps during the invasion, and you decided we had to dig an escape tunnel? Except it was you who did all the designing, and me and Elena who did all the digging?"
"We were about eight," said Miles defensively. "The medics were still working on my bones. I was still pretty friable then."
"—and the tunnel collapsed on me?" Ivan went on dreamily. "And I was under there for hours?"
"It wasn't hours. It was minutes. Sergeant Bothari had you out of there in practically no time."
"It seemed like hours to me. I can still taste the dirt. It got stuffed up my nose, too." Ivan rubbed his nose in memory. "Mother would still be having the fit, if Aunt Cordelia hadn't sat on her."
"We were stupid little kids. What has this got to do with anything?"
"Nothing, I suppose. I just woke up thinking about it, this morning." Ivan stood up, fastened his tunic, and pulled it straight. "I never believed I'd miss Sergeant Bothari, but I think I do now. Who's going to dig me out this time?"
Miles wanted to snap out a sharp rejoinder, but shivered instead. I miss Bothari too. He had almost forgotten how much, till Ivan's words hit the scar of his regret, that secret little pocket of anguish that never seemed to drain. Major mistakes . . . Dammit, a man walking a tight-wire didn't need someone shouting from the sidelines how far down the drop was, or what lousy balance he had. It wasn't as if he didn't know; but what he most needed was to forget. Even a momentary loss of concentration—of self-confidence—of forward momentum, could be fatal. "Do me a favor, Ivan. Don't try to think. You'll hurt yourself. Just follow orders, huh?"
Ivan bared his teeth in a non-smile, and followed Miles out the door.
* * *
They met with ghem-Colonel Benin in the same little conference room as before, but this time, Vorreedi rode shotgun personally, dispensing with the guard. The two colonels were just finishing the amenities and sitting down as Miles and Ivan entered, by which sign