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ng up every hour to view the new tacticals。
Lieutenant Illyan watched over his shoulder； and Vorkosigan pointed out salient features of the strategy to him as they came up。
〃It looks pretty good to me；〃 Illyan mented once。 〃I don't see why you're so anxious。 We really could carry it off； in spite of the Esco's superior mand of resources in the long run。 Won't do them any good if it's all over in the short run。〃
Afraid to put Bothari back into a deep a； they let him return to near…consciousness。 He sat in the corner in a miserable knot； drifting in and out of sleep with bad dreams in both states。
Eventually Illyan took himself off to his own cabin to sleep； and Cordelia had another nap herself。 She slept a long time； not waking until Illyan returned with another tray of food。 She was being disoriented with respect to time； locked in this changeless room。 Vorkosigan； however； was tracking time by the minute now。 After they ate he vanished into the bathroom to wash and shave； and returned in fresh dress greens； as neat as though ready for a conference with the Emperor。
He checked through the last tactical update for the second time。
〃Have they started landing troops yet？〃 Cordelia asked。
He checked his chronometer。 〃Almost an hour ago。 We should be getting the first reports through any minute。〃 He sat now without fidgeting； like a man in deep meditation； face like stone。
That hour's tactical update arrived； and he began sorting through its reports； apparently checking key items。 In the middle of it his screen was overridden by the face of mander Venne。
〃modore Vorkosigan？ We're getting something very strange here。 Do you want me to shunt a copy of raw ining straight down there？〃
〃Yes； please。 Immediately。〃
Vorkosigan searched through an assortment of chatter of all kinds； and picked out a verbal from a ship mander； a dark and heavy…set man who spoke into his log with a guttural accent tinged by fear。
Here it es； moaned Cordelia inwardly。
〃…attacking with shuttles！ They're returning our fire shot by shot。 Plasma shields at maximum now…we can't put more power into them and still keep firing。 We must either drop shields and try to increase our firepower； or give up the attack。。。〃 The transmission was interrupted by static。 〃…don't know how they're doing it。 They can't possibly have packed enough engine in those shuttles to generate this。。。〃 More static。 The transmission abruptly broke off。
Vorkosigan selected another。 Illyan leaned over his shoulder anxiously。 Cordelia sat on the bed； silent； head bowed； listening。 The cup of victory； bitter on the tongue； heavy in the stomach； sad as defeat。。。
〃…the flagship is under heavy fire；〃 reported another mander。 Cordelia recognized the voice with a start； and craned her neck for a view of his face。 It was Gottyan； evidently he had his captaincy at last。 〃I'm going to drop shields altogether and attempt to knock one out with a maximum burst。〃
〃Don't do it； Korabik！〃 Vorkosigan shouted hopelessly。 The decision； whatever it was； had been made an hour ago； its consequences ineradicably fixed in time。
Gottyan turned his head to one side。 〃Ready； mander Vorkalloner？ We are attempting…〃 he began； and was drowned by static； then silence。
Vorkosigan struck his fist on the desk； hard。 〃Damn！ How the hell long is it going to take them to figure。。。〃 He stared into the snow； then reran the transmission； transfixing it with a frightening expression； grief and rage and nausea mixed。 He then selected another band； this time a puter graphic of the space around Escobar； and the ships as little colored lights winking and diving through it。 It looked tiny； and bright； and simple； like a child's game。 He shook his head at it； lips tight and bloodless。
Venne's face interrupted again。 He was pale； with peculiar lines of tension running down to the corners of his mouth。
〃Sir； I think you'd better e to the Tactics Room。〃
〃I can't； Venne； without breaking arrest。 Where's modore Helski； or modore Couer？〃
〃Helski went forward with the Prince and Admiral Vorhalas； sir。 modore Couer is here now。 You're the ranking flag officer aboard now。〃
〃The Prince was quite explicit。〃
〃The Prince…I believe the Prince is dead； sir。〃 Vorkosigan closed his eyes； and a sigh went out of him； joylessly。 He opened them again； and leaned forward。 〃Is that confirmed？ Do you have any new orders from Admiral Vorhalas？〃
〃It's…Admiral Vorhalas was with the Prince； sir。 Their ship was hit。〃 Venne turned away to view something over his shoulder； then turned back。 〃It's；〃 he had to clear his throat； 〃it's confirmed。 The Prince's flagship has been…obliterated。 There's nothing left but debris。 You're in mand now； sir。〃
Vorkosigan's face was cold and unhappy。 〃Then transmit Contingency Blue orders at once。 All ships cease firing immediately。 Put all power into shields。 This ship to make course for Escobar now at maximum boost。 We've got to cut down on our transmission time lag。〃
〃Contingency Blue； sir？ That's full retreat！〃
〃I know； mander。 I wrote it。〃
〃But full retreat。。。〃
〃mander Venne； the Escobarans have a new weapon system。 It's called a plasma mirror field。 It's a new Betan development。 It turns the attacker's burst back on itself。 Our ships are shooting themselves down with their own firepower。〃
〃My God！ What can we do？〃
〃Not a damn thing； unless； we want to start boarding their ships and strangling the bastards by hand； one at a time。 Attractive； but impractical。 Transmit those orders。 And order the mander of Engineers and the Chief Pilot Officer to the Tactics Room。 And get the guard mander down here to relieve his men。 I don't care to be stunned on the way out the door。〃
〃Yes； sir！〃 Venne broke off。
〃Got to get those troopships turned around first；〃 muttered Vorkosigan； rising from his swivel chair。 He turned to find both Cordelia and Illyan staring at him。
〃How did you know…〃 began Illyan。
〃…about the plasma mirrors？〃 finished Cordelia。
Vorkosigan was quite expressionless。 〃You told me； Cordelia； in your sleep； while Illyan was out。 Under the influence of one of the surgeons potions； of course。 You'll suffer no ill effects from it。〃
She stood upright； aghast。 〃That…you miserable…torture would have been more honorable！〃
〃Oh； smooth； sir！〃 congratulated Illyan。 〃I knew you were all right！〃
Vorkosigan shot him a look of dislike。 〃It doesn't matter。 The information was confirmed too late to do us any good。〃
There was a knock on the door。
〃e on； Illyan。 It's time to take my soldiers home。〃
CHAPTER TEN
Illyan came back promptly for Bothari； barely an hour later。 This was followed for Cordelia by twelve hours alone。 She considered escaping the room； as her soldierly duty； and engaging in a little one…woman sabotage。 But if Vorkosigan was indeed directing a full retreat； it would hardly do to interfere。
She lay on his bed in a black weariness。 He had betrayed her； he was no better than the rest of them。 〃My perfect warrior； my dear hypocrite〃…and it appeared Vorrutyer had known him better than she； after all…no。 That was unjust。 He had done his duty； in extracting that information； she had done the same； in concealing it for as long as possible。 And as one soldier to another； even if an ersatz one…five hours active service； was it？…she had to agree with Illyan； it had been smooth。 She could detect no aftereffects at all in herself from whatever he had used for the secret invasion of her mind。
Whatever he had used。。。 What； indeed； could he have used？ Where had he cadged it； and when？ Illyan hadn't brought it to him。 He had been as surprised as she when Vorkosigan dropped that bit of intelligence。 One must either believe he kept a secret stash of interrogation drugs hidden in his quarters； or。。。
〃Dear God；〃 she whispered； not a curse； but a prayer。 〃What have I stumbled into now？〃 She paced the room； the connections clicking unstoppably into place。
Heart…certainty。 Vorkosigan had never questioned her； he had known about the plasma mirrors in advance。
It appeared； further； that he was the only man in the Barrayaran mand who knew。 Vorhalas had not。 The Prince certainly had not。 Nor Illyan。
〃Put all the bad eggs in one basket；〃 she muttered。 〃And…drop the basket？ Oh； it couldn't have been his own plan！ Surely not。。。〃
She had a sudden horrific vision of it； all plete； the most wasteful political assassination plot in Barrayaran history； and the most subtle； the corpses hidden in a mountain of corpses； forever inextricable。
But he must have had the information from somewhere。 Somewhere between the time she had left him with no worse troubles than an engine room full of mutineers； and now； struggling to pull a disarmed armada back to safety before the destruction they had unleashed crashed back on them。 Somewhere in a quiet； green silk room； where a great choreographer designed a dance of death； and the honor of a man of honor was broken on the wheel of his service。
Vorrutyer of the demonic vanity shrank； and shrank； before the swelling vision； to a mouse； to a flea； to a pinprick。
〃My God； I thought Aral seemed twitchy。 He must be half…mad。 And the Emperor…the Prince was his son。 Can this be real？ Or ha