"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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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.