Lois McMaster Bujold 13 A Civil Campaign

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soothe Vassily. She rubbed her temples, which were throbbing. When Vassily
made a feeble motion toward escape from the Professora's parlor by mumbling
about things to do
, she did not impede them.
She locked the front door on their retreating forms, and returned to curl up
in her uncle's chair, unable to decide whether to go lie down, or pace, or
weed. Anyway, the garden was still stripped of weeds from her last upset about
Miles. It would be an hour yet before Aunt Vorthys returned from her class,
and Ekaterin could pour out her fury and panic into her ear. Or her lap.
To Hugo's credit, she reflected, he hadn't seemed enticed by the promise of a
Countess's place for his little sister at any price, nor had he suggested that
was the prize that motivated her. Vorvaynes were above that sort of material
ambition.
Once, she had bought Nikki a rather expensive robopet, which he'd played with
for a few days and then neglected. It had been forgotten on a shelf until,
attempting to clean, she'd tried to give it away. Nikki's sudden frantic
protests and heartbroken carryings-on had shaken the roof.
The parallel was embarrassing. Was Miles a toy she hadn't wanted till they'd
tried to take him from her? Deep down in her chest, someone was screaming and
sobbing.
You're not in charge here. I'm the adult, dammit.
Yet Nikki had kept his robopet...
She would deliver the bad news about Vassily's interdict to Miles's face. But
not yet, oh, not quite yet. Because unless this smear upon his reputation was
suddenly and spectacularly settled
, that might be her last look at him for a very long time.
* * *
Kareen watched her father sink into the soft upholstery of the groundcar that
Tante Cordelia had sent for them, and hitch around restlessly, placing his
swordstick first on his lap and then at his side. Somehow, she didn't think
his discomfort was all from his old war wounds.
"We're going to regret this, I know we are," he said querulously to Mama, for
about the sixth time, as she settled in beside him.
The rear canopy closed over the three of them, blocking the bright afternoon
sun, and the groundcar started up smoothly and quietly. "Once that woman gets
her hands on us, you know she'll have our heads turned inside out in ten
minutes, and we'll be sitting there nodding away like fools, agreeing with
every insane thing she says."
Oh, I hope so, I hope so!
Kareen clamped her lips shut, and sat very still. She wasn't safe yet. The
Commodore could still order
Tante Cordelia's driver to turn the car around and take them back home.
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"Now, Kou," said Mama, "we can't go on like this. Cordelia's right. It's time
things were arranged more sensibly."
"Ah! There's that word -
sensible
. One of her favorites. I feel like I already have a plasma arc targeter spot
right there
." He pointed to the middle of his chest, as though a red dot wavered across
his green uniform.
"It's been very uncomfortable," said Mama, "and I for one am getting tired of
it. want to see our old friends, and hear all
I
about Sergyar. We can't stop all our lives over this."
Yeah, just mine.
Kareen's teeth clenched a little harder.
"Well, do not want that fat little weird clone - " he hesitated, judging by
the ripple of his lips editing his word choice at least
I
twice " - making up to my daughter. Explain to me why he needs two years of
Betan therapy if he isn't half mad, eh? Eh?"
Don't say it, girl, don't say it.
She gnawed on her knuckles instead. Fortunately, the drive was very short.
Armsman Pym met them at the door to Vorkosigan House. He favored her father
with one of those formal nods that evoked a salute. "Good afternoon Commodore,
Madame Koudelka. Welcome, Miss Kareen. Milady will receive you in the library.
This way, please..." Kareen could almost swear, as he turned to escort them,
that his eyelid shivered at her in a wink, but he was playing the Bland
Servitor to the hilt today, and he gave her no more clues.
Pym ushered them through the double doors, and announced them with formality.
He withdrew discreetly but with a -
knowing Pym - deliberate air of abandoning them to a deserved fate.
In the library, part of the furniture had been rearranged. Tante Cordelia
waited in a large wing chair perhaps accidentally reminiscent of a throne. At
her right and left hands, two smaller armchairs faced one another. Mark sat in
one of them, wearing his best black suit, shaved and slick as he'd been for
Miles's ill-fated party. He popped to his feet and stood at a sort of awkward
attention as the Koudelkas entered, clearly unable to decide whether it would
be worse to nod cordially or do nothing. He compromised by standing there
looking stuffed.
Across from Tante Cordelia, an entirely new piece of furniture had been
placed. Well, new was a misnomer; it was an elderly, shabby couch which had
lived for at least the past fifteen years up in one of Vorkosigan House's
attics. Kareen remembered it dimly from the old hide-and-seek days. Last she'd
seen it, it had been piled high with dusty boxes.
"Ah, and there you all are," said Tante Cordelia cheerfully. She waved at the
second armchair. "Kareen, why don't you sit right here." Kareen scooted in as
directed, clutching the arms. Mark seated himself again on the edge of his own
chair, and watched her anxiously. Tante Cordelia's index finger rose like a
target seeker, and pointed first to Kareen's parents, then to the old sofa.
"Kou and Drou, you sit down -
there
."
Both of them stared with inexplicable dismay at the harmless piece of old
furniture.
"Oh," breathed the Commodore. "Oh, Cordelia, this is fighting dirty..." He
started to swing around and head for the exit, but was brought up short by his
wife's hand closing like a vise on his arm.
The Countess's gaze sharpened. In a voice Kareen had rarely heard her use
before, she repeated, "
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Sit. Down
." It wasn't even her Countess Vorkosigan voice; it was something older,
firmer, even more appallingly confident. It was her old Ship Captain's voice,
Kareen realized; and her parents had both lived under military authority for
decades.
Her parents sank as though folded.
"There." The Countess sat back with a satisfied smile on her lips.
A long silence followed. Kareen could hear the old-fashioned mechanical clock
ticking on the wall in the antechamber next door. Mark gave her a beseeching
stare, Do you know what the hell is going on here?
She returned it in kind, No, don't you? [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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