"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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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.