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.She preferred her military history with more temporal displacement.A century or two in the past, say.She imagined some cool future scholar looking through a time-telescope at her, and gave him a mental rude gesture.Anyway, she now realized, the military histories she'd read had left out the most important part; they never told what happened to people's babies.No—they were all babies, out there.Every mother's son in a black uniform.One of Aral's reminiscences floated up in her memory, velvet voice rumbling, "It was about that time that soldiers started looking like children to me." She pushed away from the vidconsole, and went to search the bathroom for medication for pain.***On the third day she passed Lieutenant Koudelka in a corridor, stumping along at a near run, his face flushed with excitement."What's up, Kou?""Illyan's here.And he's brought Kanzian with him!"Cordelia followed him to a briefing room.Droushnakovi had to lengthen even her long stride to keep up.Aral, flanked by two staffers, sat with his hands clasped on the table before him, listening with utmost attention.Commander Illyan sat on the edge of the table, swinging one leg in rhythm to his voice.A bandage on his left arm was stained with yellow seepage.He was pale and dirty, but his eyes shone in triumph, gilded with a touch of fever.He wore civilian gear that looked as if it had been stolen out of someone's laundry, and then rolled downhill in.An older man was sitting beside Illyan—a staffer handed the man a drink, which Cordelia recognized as a potassium-salts-laced fruit-flavored pick-me-up for the metabolically depleted.He tasted it dutifully, and made a face, looking as if he would have preferred some more old-fashioned revivifier such as brandy.Overweight and undertall, greying where he was not balding, Admiral Kanzian was not a very martial-looking man.He looked grandfatherly—though only if one's grandfather was a research professor.His face was held together with an intensity of intellect that seemed to give the term "military science" real clout.Cordelia had met him in uniform; his air of quiet authority seemed unaffected by civilian shirt and slacks that might have come from the same laundry basket as Illyan's.Illyan was saying, "—and then we spent the next night in the cellar.Vordarian's squad came back the next morning, but—Milady!"His grin of greeting was blunted by a flash of guilt, as he glanced to and away from her waist.She'd rather he kept piffling on, excited, about his adventures, but her arrival seemed to deflate him, ghost of his most notable failure at his banquet of victory."Wonderful to see you both, Simon, Admiral." They exchanged nods; Kanzian made to rise, but was unanimously waved back to his seat, which made his lip twist in bemusement.Aral signed her to sit next to him.Illyan continued in a more clipped fashion.His past two weeks of hide-and-seek with Vordarian's forces seemed to parallel Cordelia's, though in the far more complex setting of the seized capital.But Cordelia recognized the familiar terrors under his plain words.He brought his tale swiftly up to the present moment.Kanzian nodded an occasional confirmation."Well done, Simon," said Vorkosigan when Illyan concluded.He nodded toward Kanzian."Extremely well done."Illyan smiled."Thought you'd like it, sir."Vorkosigan turned to Kanzian."As soon as you feel able, I would like to brief you in the tac room, sir.""Thank you, my lord.I've been out of communications—except for Vordarian's newscasts—since I escaped Headquarters.Though there was much to be deduced from what we did see.By the way, I commend your strategy of restraint.Good so far.But you're close to its limits.""So I've sensed, sir.""What's Jolly Nolly doing at Jumppoint Station One?""Not answering his tightbeam.Last week his understaffers were offering an amazing array of excuses, but their ingenuity finally dried up.""Ha.I can just picture it.His colitis must be in wonderful form.I'll bet not all of those 'indisposeds' were lies.I think I should begin with a private chat with Admiral Knollys, just the two of us.""I would appreciate that, sir.""We will discuss the inevitabilities of time.And the defects of a potential commander who bases an entire strategy on an assassination he then does not succeed in carrying out." Kanzian frowned judgmentally."Not well constructed, to let your whole war turn on one event.Vordarian always did have a tendency to pop off."Cordelia, aside, caught Illyan's eye."Simon.Did you pick up any information at all, while you were trapped in Vorbarr Sultana, about the Imperial Military Hospital? Vaagen and Henri's lab?" My baby?Regretfully, he shook his head."No, Milady." Illyan glanced in turn at Vorkosigan."My lord, is it true about Captain Negri's death? We'd only had it from rumor, and Vordarian's propaganda broadcasts.Thought it might have been a he.""Negri is dead.Unfortunately." Vorkosigan grimaced.Illyan sat upright in alarm."And the Emperor, too?""Gregor is safe and well."Illyan slumped again."Thank God.Where?""Elsewhere," said Vorkosigan dryly."Oh.Quite, sir.Beg pardon.""As soon as you've hit sickbay and the showers, Simon, I have some housecleaning chores for you," Vorkosigan continued."I want to know just exactly how ImpSec was blindsided by Vordarian's coup.I have no wish to malign the dead—and God knows the man paid for his mistakes—but Negri's old personal system for running ImpSec, with all his little secret compartments shared only with Ezar, has to be taken completely apart.Every component, every man re-examined, before it's all put back together.That will be your first job as the new Chief of Imperial Security.Captain Illyan."Illyan's face went from pale-tired to green-white
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