isthisart | dissonance

"Convenience doesn't enter into it. She's literally a bloody prize for good behaviour from the Cetagandan Empire. Just because she's made the best of it doesn't mean she deserves to die for it, or wants to. Look, I can divorce her first if it makes you happier. It's a bit legally tricky to declare myself Count's Voice for the purpose and then petition myself for a divorce, but given the emergency conditions and the fact that you're about to kill me anyway, I don't think anyone's going to waste energy arguing with the details afterward. You just have to wake her up and let me explain the situation and then talk to myself for half a minute."

"And then she'd go straight to the cops," says the first guard. "Can't do it."

"Not on our own recognizance."

"Right, and you can't call Ser Galen because he didn't leave a bloody forwarding address. So what's it to be, fellows? Do revolutionaries follow different rules than the rest of us - how many innocents are you allowed to kill because you don't believe you have the authority not to? If the total exceeds two hundred will you give up and turn yourselves in?"

"She's a collaborator if nothing else, living in the Butcher's house..."

Miles gestures to Galeni. "He's been living in your house for going on a week now, and I don't see you believing he's on your side."

"She was on Earth for months," says the other guard.

"You say that like it means she's been trying to get away, but it just means they give her free rein and she used it to visit the clone at the embassy so he had to stun her in the first place -"

"I did say 'making the best of it', did I not? She doesn't hate my guts; that doesn't mean she'd die for me." Whereas Miles would unquestionably die for her - but that's his business. "She made it pretty clear when I first met her that given free choice of ways off Eta Ceta, she'd rather have had a ticket to Beta Colony."

"Look, get some rope and synergine and we'll see what she has to say about it," says one of the guard. "Ser Galen said 'kill them', he didn't actually say 'all' -"

"He meant all -"

"If she wants to go to Beta Colony and sell consumer electronics what harm does that do to the revolution, hm? If she makes a dramatic speech we can dump her with the others."

The reluctant guard grumbles and trots off while the other keeps his stunner trained on the captives from sufficient range to drop them both if either lunges.

Miles waits with infinite patience.

Eventually the one guard returns with a hypospray and some rope. Galeni puts Linya down gently and backs away; she is tied up; she is synergined.

She blinks and looks around. "Now what?" she wonders.

"Butcher's kid thinks you might be convinced to drop him and go somewhere else nice and quiet."

Linya glances at Miles.

"These kind gentlemen are willing to let me enact a semi-official divorce so you can live free of my shameful name," Miles explains, "the key words here being 'live' and 'free'. My fate is to be stunned and thrown out of a lightflyer to drown, but I pointed out that you are innocent of the charge of marrying me on purpose and managed to talk them around."

Linya is quiet and expressionless for a minute, until one of the guards says, "Well?"

"By 'free' here you mean something that involves me walking out of this house under my own power, ideally with my pen back?" she inquires.

"Is your pen waterproof?"

"Yes."

"Then we'll put it in a block of ice and you can walk off with it so you don't go notifying the police straight away, hm?"

"How clever." She closes her eyes. "All right."

"Perfect," says Miles, rubbing his hands together. "Now, I'd like you all to imagine this garage as the Count's Court in Hassadar. Lots of interestingly carved woodwork on the walls," he sketches these with sweeping gestures, "tables here, a desk there, behind which sits the Butcher of Komarr himself, looking vaguely awkward the way he always does when my wife is in the room, it's nothing personal, Linya, he's just overthinking things. Here," he skips to the side and gestures again at a spot beside the imaginary desk, "stands a very bored clerk - Captain Galeni, would you take the role? I'll feed you your lines, never fear - holding a spear with the Vorkosigan standard, a very important historical artifact dating from the Time of Isolation which I've always thought looked a bit like an overgrown toothpick laden with a fragment of a giant's dinner."

"Get on with it," says one of the guards.

Galeni doesn't look bored, he looks despairing.

If Galeni can't tell a bloody distraction when he sees one, that's his problem. Miles is in his element. Probably about to die, under incredible stress, improvising bizarre pageantry - the only way he could get any more in his element would be if he had any idea whatsoever of how to take advantage of this distraction to actually escape.

"Got to get all the proper ceremonial bits in, you know. Don't worry, I'll keep it short," he lies blithely. "Galeni: 'Next case, Lord Miles Naismith Vorkosigan versus his wife the haut Lady Linyabel Miriat Vorkosigan', tap imaginary spear on ground, 'Your Count is listening; complainants please step forward'."

Galeni looks at Miles like Miles has certainly gone insane, but repeats the words.

Miles darts around to the location of the previously indicated tables, steps forward and gestures an imaginary non-tied-up Linya to come with him, then breaks character as himself and scuttles around behind the Count's desk.

"Petition for the dissolution of a marriage, oaths originally taken mumble-mumble 2996, Vorkosigan Surleau, Vorkosigan District, Barrayar," he cues Galeni-as-clerk, then adopts the character of his father with all promised awkwardness.

"Lieutenant Vorkosigan, Lady Vorkosigan," says Miles-as-Aral, looking slightly pained. "On what grounds do you petition this court for release from your spoken oaths?"

Miles scurries back to his spot behind his imaginary table and chirps as himself, "Duress, sir. We only took oath because we were already married, and that marriage was a Cetagandan award ceremony. It's hardly like we were married at all."

Back to the invisible desk, where Miles-as-Aral raises his eyebrows at his invisible son. "An interesting legal argument, but under the circumstances, one I'm willing to hear out. Still, for form's sake, we'd better go down the list of more usual reasons - concealed genetic faults, adultery, abuse, desertion, nonsupport, denial of marital rights, denial of children?"

And over to the table again, Miles-as-Miles shakes his head. "No, no, no, no, no, none of your business, and no, sir."

Desk. "I had to ask," says Miles-as-Aral, trying not to laugh. "Very well. I acknowledge your petition on grounds of duress. Do any of those assembled have further arguments to offer for or against, before I render judgment?"

"I do!" calls Elli Quinn from the sliding-open garage doors. "Freeze!"

A Dendarii patrol streams past her.

One guard is dropped; the other is tackled when he sprints for the lift tube.

Elli strolls up to Miles. "Hope you don't mind that I picked a dramatic moment instead of interrupting you while you were doing impressions, sir," she chirps.

"Elli, you magnificent genius! Get over here and help me untie my wife. How did you find us? Did M—my clone tip you off?"

"What clone?" asks Elli, helping unbind Linya's hands.

When Linya has hands again she interrupts Miles's work on her ankle ties to sweep him into an embrace.

Miles hugs her back, briefly distracted from Elli, then lets go and turns and asks, "What do you mean what clone? You—shit, you were rescuing Captain Galeni, weren't you. Mark didn't tip you off." He rubs his face. "Fuck. Okay, you remember a few nights ago when I had you take me to be kidnapped so I could find out who wanted to kidnap me and why?"

"Yes. ...And I'm gathering that you were, in fact, kidnapped."

"Yep. And replaced by a real genuine clone. Who has been impersonating me all this time. Apparently very successfully. Although I might have aided his cover by inventing an imaginary clone first."

"Well - he fooled me. We were camped out listening for Galeni's voiceprint, and I figured if you were dramatically pretending to divorce your wife you needed collecting regardless of the local authorities' opinions on breaking and entering but I could hold out for a cue. I didn't know how the hell you'd gotten here, but I suppose I do now."

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