dissonance

[isthisart]

Dr. Cheung's at a funeral all day, so Linya decides to go up to London and see if Miles is out of his Mood.

Security has decided to be deeply unhelpful today. She is currently showing them various forms of ID and repeating in a slow, patient voice that she has been here before, there is not more than one of her, and she promises she is not there to assassinate her husband or whatever fool thing has them skittish today. Perhaps she shouldn't drop in while the captain's missing; it seems to make them worse. But she got in before while he was missing...

Comments

[thisvorlunatic]

"Hi, Bel." Miles grabs a seat. "Give me everything the surveillance team picked up from Galen's house after we rescued the Barrayaran military attaché."

[whyexit]

Thorne obligingly fast-forwards through some silence and -

"So what's the business with the divorce proceedings, or did it never happen and I never heard it, sir?"

[thisvorlunatic]

"Officially, it never happened and you never heard it. Less officially..." He trails off into a slightly shifty shrug.

[whyexit]

Thorne snorts. It fast-forwards through that which never happened and it never heard. It picks up with bad-quality audio of the Komarran guards waking from stun, receiving a comconsole call from Galen, supplying him with a slightly edited take on how the dramatic rescue occurred, and being told that they are fools and should not try to contact him again.

[thisvorlunatic]

"I assume we traced the source of that call, and it dead-ended somehow or other?"

[whyexit]

"Tube station public comconsole," says Thorne. "Search radius was a hundred klicks by the time we had someone down there. And he hasn't touched the house since, though the guards were still there when the Barrayaran embassy fellows took over minding it. Have the Barrayarans paid us yet?"

[thisvorlunatic]

"Oh yes," says Miles. "Handsomely. No problem there. But although we're no longer working for them, finding Galen - I want us to continue working. I have a personal stake, now." He frowns pensively.

[whyexit]

"A personal stake. Sir, aren't you playing this a bit close to your chest?"

[thisvorlunatic]

"Yes," he sighs. "It's unfortunately a rather complicated subject... all right. Consider a covert substitution plot, aimed at unspecified political goals, for which one or more clones are run off and carefully altered to match the damaged original. Ser Galen has one such clone in his possession, and is currently on the run after an unsuccessful attempt to make the switch. For the purposes of anyone who comes by enough information to ask the question, I am another and it's not to be discussed any further than that. I consider that clone," he makes a vaguely planetward gesture, "my brother, and I want to save him from both the man who currently has control of him and the Barrayaran assassination teams who are after them both."

[whyexit]

Thorne frowns seriously. "Yes, sir." Pause. "If it comes up, how do we tell you apart?"

[thisvorlunatic]

"If you radiograph our bones, his come up normal and mine are visibly fragile and damaged. Except the long bones of the legs, where we both have synthetics. Have everybody carry medical scanners when we go after him, and when in doubt, scan."

[whyexit]

"Will do, sir."

[thisvorlunatic]

"If I'm tremendously lucky," he adds, "I won't have to go after him personally and the risk of confusion will be minimal. But, uh... he does a really good impression of me, I'm told. So if you have doubts, don't hesitate to check. I'm going to be trying to get those assassination teams called off through other channels, but to be honest... I don't expect to be that lucky. And now I'd better go give Lieutenant Bone her money."

Off he goes, to find Lieutenant Bone. She is positively ecstatic. He directs her to pay off the mortgage on the Triumph in addition to clearing the fleet's miscellaneous minor debts, and presents her with the challenge of creating an untraceable credit chit for half a million marks payable to the bearer. She seems pretty pleased about that one too. Miles, lacking further tasks to keep him occupied, goes to bed and frets for a while until he finally falls asleep.