Read Online Diplomatic Immunity by Lois McMaster Bujold - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lois McMaster Bujold
Tags: Science-Fiction
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anything. She is discreet."
Oh. Much becomes clear . . .
"But she's a personal friend of Garnet Five's. Who is in a tearing panic over all of this. She's convinced, among other things, that the Barrayaran command wants to shoot her boyfriend out of hand. The pair of thugs that Vorpatril sent to pick up your stray evidently—well, it went beyond rude. They were insulting and brutal, for starters, and it slid downhill from there. I've heard the unabridged version."
Miles grimaced. "I know my countrymen. You can take the ugly details as read, thanks."
"Nicol has asked me to do what I can for her friend and her friend's friend. I promised I'd put in a word. This is it."
"I understand." Miles sighed. "I can't make any promises yet. Except to listen to everyone."
Bel nodded and looked away. It said after a moment, "This Imperial Auditor gig of yours—you're a big wheel in the Barrayaran machine now, huh?"
"Something like that," said Miles.
"The Emperor's Voice sounds like it would be pretty loud. People listen, do they?"
"Well, Barrayarans do. The rest of the galaxy"—one side of Miles's mouth turned up—"tend to think it's some kind of fairy tale."
Bel shrugged apologetically. "ImpSec is Barrayarans. So. The thing is, I've come to like this place—Graf Station, Quaddiespace. And these people. I like them a lot. I believe you'll see why, if I get much chance to show you around. I'm thinking of settling here permanently."
"That's . . . nice," said Miles. Where are you taking me, Bel?
"But if I do take an oath of citizenship here—and I've been thinking hard about it for a while—I want to take it honestly. I can't offer them a false oath, or divided loyalties."
"Your Betan citizenship never interfered with your career in the Dendarii Mercenaries," Miles pointed out.
"You never asked me to operate on Beta Colony," said Bel.
"And if I had?"
"I . . . would have faced a dilemma." Bel's hand stretched in urgent entreaty. "I want a clean start, with no secret strings attached. You claim ImpSec is your personal utility now. Miles—can you please fire me again?"
Miles sat back and chewed on his knuckle. "Cut you loose from ImpSec, you mean?"
"Yes. From all old obligations."
He blew out his breath. But you're so valuable to us here! "I . . . don't know."
"Don't know if you have the power? Or don't know if you want to use it?"
Miles temporized, "This power business has proved a lot stranger than I anticipated. You'd think more power would bring one more freedom, but I've found it's brought me less. Every word that comes out of my mouth has this weight that it never had before, when I was babbling Mad Miles, hustler of the Dendarii. I never had to watch my mass like this. It's . . . damned uncomfortable, sometimes."
"I'd have thought you'd love it."
"I'd have thought that too."
Bel leaned back, easing off. It would not make the request again, not soon, anyway.
Miles drummed his fingers on the cool, reflective surface of the table. "If there is anything more behind this mess than overexcitement and bad judgment—not that that isn't enough—it hinges on the evaporation of that Komarran fleet security fellow, Solian—"
Miles wrist com chimed, and he raised it to his lips. "Yes?"
"M'lord," came Roic's apologetic voice. "We're in dock again now."
"Right. Thanks. We'll be out directly." He rose from the table, saying, "You must meet Ekaterin properly, before we go back out there and have to play dumb again. She and Roic have full Barrayaran security clearances, by the way—they have to, to live this close to me. They both need to know who you are, and that they can trust you."
Bel hesitated. "Do they really need to know I'm ImpSec? Here?"
"They might, in an emergency."
"I would particularly like the quaddies not to know I've been selling intelligence to downsiders, you see. Maybe it would be safer if you and I were mere acquaintances."
Miles stared. "But Bel, she knows perfectly
Oh. Much becomes clear . . .
"But she's a personal friend of Garnet Five's. Who is in a tearing panic over all of this. She's convinced, among other things, that the Barrayaran command wants to shoot her boyfriend out of hand. The pair of thugs that Vorpatril sent to pick up your stray evidently—well, it went beyond rude. They were insulting and brutal, for starters, and it slid downhill from there. I've heard the unabridged version."
Miles grimaced. "I know my countrymen. You can take the ugly details as read, thanks."
"Nicol has asked me to do what I can for her friend and her friend's friend. I promised I'd put in a word. This is it."
"I understand." Miles sighed. "I can't make any promises yet. Except to listen to everyone."
Bel nodded and looked away. It said after a moment, "This Imperial Auditor gig of yours—you're a big wheel in the Barrayaran machine now, huh?"
"Something like that," said Miles.
"The Emperor's Voice sounds like it would be pretty loud. People listen, do they?"
"Well, Barrayarans do. The rest of the galaxy"—one side of Miles's mouth turned up—"tend to think it's some kind of fairy tale."
Bel shrugged apologetically. "ImpSec is Barrayarans. So. The thing is, I've come to like this place—Graf Station, Quaddiespace. And these people. I like them a lot. I believe you'll see why, if I get much chance to show you around. I'm thinking of settling here permanently."
"That's . . . nice," said Miles. Where are you taking me, Bel?
"But if I do take an oath of citizenship here—and I've been thinking hard about it for a while—I want to take it honestly. I can't offer them a false oath, or divided loyalties."
"Your Betan citizenship never interfered with your career in the Dendarii Mercenaries," Miles pointed out.
"You never asked me to operate on Beta Colony," said Bel.
"And if I had?"
"I . . . would have faced a dilemma." Bel's hand stretched in urgent entreaty. "I want a clean start, with no secret strings attached. You claim ImpSec is your personal utility now. Miles—can you please fire me again?"
Miles sat back and chewed on his knuckle. "Cut you loose from ImpSec, you mean?"
"Yes. From all old obligations."
He blew out his breath. But you're so valuable to us here! "I . . . don't know."
"Don't know if you have the power? Or don't know if you want to use it?"
Miles temporized, "This power business has proved a lot stranger than I anticipated. You'd think more power would bring one more freedom, but I've found it's brought me less. Every word that comes out of my mouth has this weight that it never had before, when I was babbling Mad Miles, hustler of the Dendarii. I never had to watch my mass like this. It's . . . damned uncomfortable, sometimes."
"I'd have thought you'd love it."
"I'd have thought that too."
Bel leaned back, easing off. It would not make the request again, not soon, anyway.
Miles drummed his fingers on the cool, reflective surface of the table. "If there is anything more behind this mess than overexcitement and bad judgment—not that that isn't enough—it hinges on the evaporation of that Komarran fleet security fellow, Solian—"
Miles wrist com chimed, and he raised it to his lips. "Yes?"
"M'lord," came Roic's apologetic voice. "We're in dock again now."
"Right. Thanks. We'll be out directly." He rose from the table, saying, "You must meet Ekaterin properly, before we go back out there and have to play dumb again. She and Roic have full Barrayaran security clearances, by the way—they have to, to live this close to me. They both need to know who you are, and that they can trust you."
Bel hesitated. "Do they really need to know I'm ImpSec? Here?"
"They might, in an emergency."
"I would particularly like the quaddies not to know I've been selling intelligence to downsiders, you see. Maybe it would be safer if you and I were mere acquaintances."
Miles stared. "But Bel, she knows perfectly
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