fermata

[isthisart]

Linya sees Dr. Cheung onto a ship other than the Ariel, which agrees to tote him to Komarr very, very slowly, knocking him out for each jump and having someone look after him when he comes around green in the gills. It's not going to be a fun trip for him, but it's better than trying to collaborate with a multi-week conversational turnaround time. It's pricey - the ship has nonperishable cargo with no deadline at its destination and already employs a medtech, but still - but she thinks it's worth it.

Her business on Earth concluded, she examines the list of tourist attractions she didn't get around to, determines that none of them are worth sticking around for, and gets on a much faster vessel and goes all the way home. The first thing she does when there is go looking for whichever of the Count or Countess is easiest to find.

Comments

[isthisart]

"A bit, yes. He wanted to know later during the part where I was tied to a chair if I was angry at him. I told him I was a little frustrated but not angry."

[as_i_remember]

"Hm."

[isthisart]

"Oh - nigh-unrelatedly - when I was being haut at Cetagandan assassins I suggested that I could also choose to be offended if they killed my husband's clone, on the grounds that the haut-wife ceremony is principally about genetics. I don't know how much that will slow them down, of course."

[as_i_remember]

"I imagine it will slow them down at least a little bit. Thank you."

[isthisart]

"You're welcome."

[spacetobreathe]

Six weeks later, Elli hauls Miles down to the surface of Barrayar to be seen by dirtside doctors for his completely shattered arm.

[thisvorlunatic]

Miles is less than pleased about this. True, the surgical stun deletes all sensation including pain from both his arms, but it's not considered medically necessary to put him under for the operation, so he has to sit there totally immobilized while a swarm of surgeons - all right, two, but they feel like a swarm - carefully peel apart his right hand and arm to extract his pulverized bones therefrom. There is no hope of piecing them back together into something his body could hope to heal on its own, no matter how much electro-stim was applied, so Miles gives his consent for all the bones in both arms to be replaced by synthetics. The left arm is merely fractured in a couple of places, and is a breeze by comparison. Then they seal him back up, bandage up both his arms into total immobility, and leave him in his hospital bed to become bored and flat. Bored, flat, and in pain. Just because he doesn't have any other broken bones doesn't mean the rest of him is totally undamaged.

He is extremely surprised when his first visitor is not Mother or Linya, but Simon Illyan, a scant hour after the surgeons finally leave him alone.

"...Hi, boss."

[as_i_remember]

"You look like hell," Illyan observes. "Defrosted with median expertise. Don't bother saluting."

[thisvorlunatic]

Miles snickers, which causes him pain, but then so does breathing.

[as_i_remember]

"How was surgery?"

[thisvorlunatic]

"Much like the legs, but about twenty times as tedious - all those bone fragments, ugh. Now I have the unparalleled joy of sitting around waiting to see if the new marrow's going to settle into the synthetics all right. That part was less of a concern last time around, on account of there were fewer bones being replaced and none of them had been pulped prior to surgery."

[as_i_remember]

"At least you've kept your sense of humour," says Illyan. "But I do hope you're not going to turn this into a habit - returning from your mission assignments on a stretcher."

[thisvorlunatic]

"Hey, this is what, the second time? Wait for the third before you call it a pattern. Anyway, I have a finite number of bones in my body. I'll be harder to lay out once I've replaced them all."

[as_i_remember]

"Speaking of your missions..."

[thisvorlunatic]

"What? You have my reports," he says warily. He can't imagine what Illyan could so urgently have to say about his missions right now, but he doesn't expect he'll like it, whatever it is.

[as_i_remember]

"Your reports, as usual, are masterpieces of understatement and misdirection." He sounds almost proud.

[thisvorlunatic]

"Hey, anybody might read those," says Miles. "You never know."

[as_i_remember]

"Mm," says Illyan.

[thisvorlunatic]

Miles sighs. "So what's the problem?"

[as_i_remember]

"Money," he says. "In particular, accountability for same."

[thisvorlunatic]

Miles blinks up at him in honest and slightly pained bewilderment. "Don't you like my work?"

[as_i_remember]

"Apart from your injuries, the results of your latest mission are highly satisfactory..."

[thisvorlunatic]

"They'd fucking well better be!" he says indignantly.

[as_i_remember]

"...and," he continues after a brief pause to see if Miles is done cursing, "I have no specific complaints about your conduct on Earth, besides a general despair that you will ever go six consecutive months without finding it necessary to creatively interpret or outright disobey an order. No, these charges date to the Dagoola mission."

[thisvorlunatic]

"Charges?" blinks Miles, feeling very lost and mildly alarmed.