Miles lets out a choked snort at it sounds like science fiction, because after spending a year on a ship with broken wormhole portals and aliens and talking skeletons, science fiction has become startlingly relative.
"Until now?" He raises an eyebrow, but then shrugs and nods, shivering a little. "Well, yeah. They're kind of impossible to miss. Big, glowy, maybe three or four meters tall. But the one on the ship was broken." And...he hadn't exactly come from the Moira this time, either, a fact which he is neatly stepping around for now.
Something Miles will seize upon when he finds out, but - for now he's thoroughly distracted. He gets up to pace, his boots scuffling against the other bedrolls in their tent. "Byerly would have seen it if the Cetagandans had it anywhere obvious," he says, thinking out loud to himself. Literally. "Unless it's so broken it's not glowing at all." He stops there to pierce his alternate with his sharp gaze. "Did yours glow?"
Miles doesn't flinch at that sharp gaze -- at least he's spent enough time around Mark to get used to seeing his own face -- but he does blink.
"Yes, it glowed. It was broken, but functioning. Aren't you starting to feel a little déjà vu?" He rubs his forehead and sighs. "The Cetagandans don't have an Ingress. The only place I've actually seen them was in -- that universe, on the Moira and all the worlds we visited. Besides, even if the Cetagandans did manage to get their hands on one -- how, I don't know -- I don't think they'd actually be able to get it working."
Look, it's been a long couple of months. And Miles' memory isn't quite what it used to be, curse that damn cryorevival. He stops pacing long enough to make a face. "Bad news for all of us in that case." He glances down at himself. "Shame I can't get you into the base to take a look."
Miles no. That's a bad idea on so many levels, and he knows it. There's no guarantee the Cetagandans even have anything worth looking at.
Miles's mouth opens a moment, then closes. The worst part about talking to himself, he thinks, is that he can see the beginnings of a subtle manipulation -- he'd like to think of it more as a psychological nudge, but right now he's on the other side of that fence, and it's not a good look. That and the cold still has him in a bitter mood.
"The hell it is," he says, scowling, just short of snapping. "I'm not going into that base, and I'm telling you, the Cetagandans don't have one, or else that's where we'd all be coming out from." He closes his teeth on a breath. "Besides, even if they did have a broken Ingress, it'd be useless anyway."
Miles turns to start pacing again. He'd shown up in the camp, it's true. But does that mean Barrayar has their own version? It seems impossible. If the tech is anywhere it's with Cetaganda ...
But even he won't walk his twin into certain death. With a sigh, he settles back down. "I'll ask Byerly on the next blind drop. He should have seen something."
"Are you listening to me?" Miles demands, looking irritated, but he's too frigging cold to move. "I don't there's an Ingress anywhere on this planet. If you're going through a door, even a one-way door, you have to -- wait, Byerly?" This time when he blinks it's in legitimate bafflement. "Is he...spying on the Cetagandans?"
With Miles helping, which is even worse. "Of course," he says, as if Byerly being a spy is the most natural thing in the world. Nevermind he'd been surprised as hell to find that out the first time. "He's a double agent for Piotr. And I'm his handler."
He's going to get about the reaction expected from Miles -- an incredulous stare with a running undertone of are you frigging stupid? Byerly Vorrutyer, a spy on the Cetagandans. God, you might as well have just sent Ivan into an astrophysics lab.
"Byerly Vorrutyer," he repeats. "You sent Byerly Vorrutyer into Cetagandan territory to spy on them? What is wrong with you?" His brow furrows, and he manages to stare somehow a little harder. "And Grandfather approved this?"
Ha. It's kind of fun watching his younger self be so absolutely, quantifiably wrong about something. Even if Miles had, by definition, also been wrong about the same subject.
"Byerly Vorrutyer, yes," he drawls sarcastically. "Given he's an ImpSec agent, I felt it appropriate."
"ImpSec?" Miles just about squawks, looking incredulously at his older self. God, nothing about his future sounds good. He has to change that -- if he ever gets back to it. He shivers again, missing the warmth of Bel's body. "Byerly is ImpSec? Since when?"
"Years," quips Miles airily. Which just just a sarcastic way of saying he has no idea. But given how smooth Byerly is, it has to have been a while, right? "The fact that neither of us suspected is a testament to his skill, I'd say."
Or he could be pulling his younger self's leg, but. Well. As entertained as he is by the other man's mild discomfort, he's really no kidding here.
Miles looks almost comically disgusted at the idea. The idea that Byerly's been a spy all this time and Miles hadn't even noticed is practically offensive. He looks at his older self, lips thinning.
"Are you sure Grandfather didn't just send him over there to get rid of him?"
"Both could be true," Miles admits. He wouldn't it past the old man, after all. "But it doesn't make him any less a spy." And because he can guess pretty well at what he's thinking - having thought it himself - he continues: "Just because we didn't realize doesn't mean it's impossible, you know."
"I'm not arguing with that," Miles mutters, rubbing his arm. "I just find the idea offensive. Byerly Vorrutyer. God."
He shakes his head, getting back to the topic at hand. He really doubts there's an Ingress on the Cetagandan base, but there's something pulling them here. He'd very much like to be pulled back, thanks. "Has he found anything interesting?"
Ah. That sets a light in his eyes. For all that this is a shitty situation, this mission has at least been interesting to carry out. Miles almost likes being a spymaster.
"The Handmaiden herself is coming here to oversee what's going on," he says. "However this is happening, Cetaganda is interested."
Miles looks truly startled, and then just plain baffled. "The sent the Handmaiden off planet? And -- what the does the Star Crèche want with a -- whatever it is?"
"Nothing good," Miles says grimly, though he's still fascinated too. "At best, a whole range of genetics they don't normally have access to. At worst, a whole set of universes to expand into."
And perhaps their own would be left alone in that case, but - Miles doesn't like those odds at all.
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"Until now?" He raises an eyebrow, but then shrugs and nods, shivering a little. "Well, yeah. They're kind of impossible to miss. Big, glowy, maybe three or four meters tall. But the one on the ship was broken." And...he hadn't exactly come from the Moira this time, either, a fact which he is neatly stepping around for now.
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"Yes, it glowed. It was broken, but functioning. Aren't you starting to feel a little déjà vu?" He rubs his forehead and sighs. "The Cetagandans don't have an Ingress. The only place I've actually seen them was in -- that universe, on the Moira and all the worlds we visited. Besides, even if the Cetagandans did manage to get their hands on one -- how, I don't know -- I don't think they'd actually be able to get it working."
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Miles no. That's a bad idea on so many levels, and he knows it. There's no guarantee the Cetagandans even have anything worth looking at.
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"The hell it is," he says, scowling, just short of snapping. "I'm not going into that base, and I'm telling you, the Cetagandans don't have one, or else that's where we'd all be coming out from." He closes his teeth on a breath. "Besides, even if they did have a broken Ingress, it'd be useless anyway."
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But even he won't walk his twin into certain death. With a sigh, he settles back down. "I'll ask Byerly on the next blind drop. He should have seen something."
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God help them all.
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"Byerly Vorrutyer," he repeats. "You sent Byerly Vorrutyer into Cetagandan territory to spy on them? What is wrong with you?" His brow furrows, and he manages to stare somehow a little harder. "And Grandfather approved this?"
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"Byerly Vorrutyer, yes," he drawls sarcastically. "Given he's an ImpSec agent, I felt it appropriate."
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Or he could be pulling his younger self's leg, but. Well. As entertained as he is by the other man's mild discomfort, he's really no kidding here.
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"Are you sure Grandfather didn't just send him over there to get rid of him?"
Seriously, this sounds like total horseshit.
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He shakes his head, getting back to the topic at hand. He really doubts there's an Ingress on the Cetagandan base, but there's something pulling them here. He'd very much like to be pulled back, thanks. "Has he found anything interesting?"
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"The Handmaiden herself is coming here to oversee what's going on," he says. "However this is happening, Cetaganda is interested."
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And perhaps their own would be left alone in that case, but - Miles doesn't like those odds at all.