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〃You give me the shivers。〃
〃Yes； well…try to hold the start for as long as possible。 And make sure your troopship manders have their contingency orders crystal clear。〃
〃The Prince doesn't see it your way。〃
〃Yes； he's itching to lead a parade。〃
〃What do you advise？〃
〃I'm not your mander this time； Rulf。〃
〃Not my fault。 I remended you to the Emperor。〃
〃I know。 I wouldn't take it。 I remended you instead。〃
〃So we ended up with that sodomizing son…of…a…bitch Vorrutyer。〃 Vorhalas shook his head bleakly。 〃Something wrong there。。。〃
Vorkosigan chivvied him gently out the door； blew out his breath with a sigh； and remained standing； caught up in his vision of the future。 He looked up； and met Cordelia's eyes with unhappy irony。 〃Wasn't there some character； when the old Romans held their triumphs； who rode along whispering in the honored party's ear that he was mortal； and death waited for him？ The old Romans probably thought he was a pain in the neck； too。〃
She held her peace。
Vorkosigan and Illyan went to retrieve Sergeant Bothari from his makeshift and unfortable hiding place。 They were halfway through the door with him when Vorkosigan swore。 〃He's stopped breathing。〃
Illyan hissed explosively； and they laid Bothari out quickly on the friction matting on his back。 Vorkosigan laid his ear to his chest； and felt his neck for a pulse。
〃Son…of…a…bitch。〃 He doubled his fists； and brought them down sharply against the Sergeant's sternum； then listened again。 〃Nothing。〃
He rolled back on his heels； looking fierce。 〃Illyan。 Whoever you got that lizard's piss from； go find him and get a shot of the antidote。 Quickly。 And quietly。 Very quietly。〃
〃How did you…what if…shouldn't you…is it worth…〃 began Illyan。 He threw up his hands helplessly； and fled out the door。
Vorkosigan looked at Cordelia。 〃Do you want to push； or blow？〃
〃Push； I guess。〃
She knelt by Bothari's side； and Vorkosigan went to his head； tilted it back； and gave him his first breath of air。 Cordelia pressed the heels of her hands on his sternum and pushed with all her strength； setting up the rhythm。 Push； push； push； blow； over and over； don't stop。 After a short time her arms were shaking； and sweat beaded on her hairline。 She could feel her own ribs grind with each push； screamingly； and her chest muscles knotted spasmodically。
〃Got to switch。〃
〃Good。 I'm hyperventilating。〃
They changed places； Vorkosigan taking over the heart massage； Cordelia pinching Bothari's nostrils shut and closing her mouth over his。 His mouth was wet from Vorkosigan's saliva。 The parody of a kiss was horrible； but to shrink from it beneath contempt。 They went on； and on。
Lieutenant Illyan returned at last； breathless。 He knelt and pressed the new ampule against Bothari's corded neck over the carotid artery。 Nothing happened。 Vorkosigan kept pumping。
Suddenly； Bothari shuddered； then stiffened； arching his back。 He took an irregular； gasping gulp of air； then stopped again。
〃e on；〃 urged Cordelia； half to herself。
With a sharp spasmodic intake he began to breathe again； raggedly； but persistently。 Cordelia slumped from her knees to a sitting position on the floor and gazed at him in joyless triumph。 〃Suffering bastard。〃
〃I thought you saw meaning in that sort of thing；〃 said Vorkosigan。
〃In the abstract。 Most days it's just stumbling around in the dark with the rest of creation； smashing into things and wondering why it hurts。〃
Vorkosigan gazed at Bothari too； sweat running down his face。 Then he jumped to his feet and hurried to his desk。
〃The protest。 Have to get it written and filed before Vorhalas leaves； or it will be no damned good。〃 He slid into his chair and began rapidly keying his console。
〃What's so important about it？〃 asked Cordelia。
〃Sh。 Later。〃 He typed furiously for ten minutes； then set it electronically in pursuit of his mander。
Bothari in the meanwhile continued to breathe； although his face retained a deathly greenish pallor。
〃What do we do now？〃 asked Cordelia。
〃Wait。 Pray that the dosage is right；〃 he glanced irritably at Illyan； 〃and that it won't send him into some kind of manic state。〃
〃Shouldn't we be thinking of some way to get them both out of here？〃 protested Illyan。
〃Think away。〃 Vorkosigan began plugging the new data disks into his console and viewing the tactical readouts。 〃But as a hiding place it has two advantages not shared by any other spot on the ship。 If you're as good as you claim； it's not monitored by either the Chief Political Officer or the Prince's men…〃
〃I'm quite sure I got them all。 I'd stake my reputation on it。〃
〃Right now you're staking your life on it； so you'd better be correct。 Second； there are two armed guards in the corridor to keep everybody out。 You could scarcely ask for more。 I admit it's a bit crowded。〃
Illyan rolled his eyes in exasperation。 〃I've diddled the Security search to the limit I dare。 I can't do any more without drawing more attention than I divert。〃
〃Will it hold twenty…six more hours？〃
〃Maybe。〃 Illyan frowned at his charge； baffled and bothered。 〃You have something planned； don't you； sir。〃 It was not a question。
〃I？〃 His fingers worked the keys of his console； and reflections of colored light from the readouts played over his impassive face。 〃I'm merely waiting in hope of some reasonable opportunity。 When the Prince leaves for Escobar most of his own security people will go with him。 Patience； Illyan。〃
He keyed his console again。 〃Vorkosigan to Tactics Room。〃
〃mander Venne here； sir。〃
〃Oh； good。 Venne； I'd like hourly updates piped down here from the time the Prince and Admiral Vorhalas leave。 And let me know immediately； regardless of time； if you start getting anything unusual； anything not in the plans。〃
〃Yes； sir。 The Prince and Admiral Vorhalas are leaving now； sir。〃
〃Very good。 Carry on。 Vorkosigan out。〃
He sat back and drummed his fingers on the desk。 〃Now we wait。 It will be about twelve hours before the Prince reaches Escobar orbit。 They'll be starting landings soon after that。 An hour for signals to reach us from Escobar。 An hour for signals to return。 So much lag。 A battle can be over in two hours。 We could cut the lag by three…quarters if the Prince would let us move off station。〃
His casual tone barely masked his tension； in spite of his advice to Illyan。 The room in which he sat scarcely seemed to exist for him。 His mind moved with the armada wheeling in a tightening constellation around Escobar； fast glittering couriers； grim cruisers； sluggish troop carriers； bellies crammed with men。 A light pen turned； forgotten； in his fingers； around and over； around and over。
〃Hadn't you better eat； sir？〃 suggested Illyan。
〃What？ Oh； yes； I suppose。 And you； Cordelia…you must be hungry。 Go ahead； Illyan。〃
Illyan left to forage。 Vorkosigan worked at his desk console for a few more minutes before shutting it down with a sigh。 〃I suppose I'd better think about sleep； too。 Last time I slept was on board the General Vorhartung； closing on Escobar…a day and a half ago； I guess。 About the time you were being captured。〃
〃We were captured a bit before that。 We were in tow for almost a day。〃
〃Yes。 Congratulations； by the way； on a very successful maneuver。 That wasn't a real battle cruiser； I take it？〃
〃I really can't say。〃
〃Somebody wants to claim it as a kill。〃
Cordelia suppressed a grin。 〃Fine by me。〃 She braced herself for more questioning； but； strangely； he turned the subject。
〃Poor Bothari。 I wish the Emperor might give him a medal。 I'm afraid the best I'll be able to do for him is get him properly hospitalized。〃
〃If the Emperor disliked Vorrutyer so； why did he put him in charge？〃
〃Because he was Grishnov's man； and widely famous as such； and the Princes favorite。 Putting all the bad eggs in one basket； so to speak。〃 He cut himself off with a fist…closing gesture。
〃He made me feel like I'd met the ultimate in evil。 I don't think anything will really scare me； after him。〃
〃Ges Vorrutyer？ He was just a little villain。 An old…fashioned craftsman； making crimes one…off。 The really unforgivable acts are mitted by calm men in beautiful green silk rooms； who deal death wholesale； by the shipload； without lust； or anger； or desire； or any redeeming emotion to excuse them but cold fear of some pretended future。 But the crimes they hope to prevent in that future are imaginary。 The ones they mit in the present…they are real。〃 His voice fell； as he spoke； so that by the end he was almost whispering。
〃modore Vorkosigan…Aral…what's eating you？ You're so keyed up I expect you to start pacing the ceiling any minute。〃 Hag…ridden； she thought。
He laughed a little。 〃I feel like it。 It's the waiting； I expect。 I'm bad at waiting。 Not a good thing； in a soldier。 I envy your ability to wait in patience。 You seem calm as moonlight on the water。〃
〃Is that pretty？〃
〃Very。〃
〃It sounds nice。 We don't have either one at home。〃 She was absurdly pleased by the implied pliment。
Illyan returned with a tray； and she got no more out of Vorkosigan。 They ate； and Vorkosigan took a turn at sleeping； or at least lying on the bed with his eyes shut； but getting up every h