Even Vorlynkin jumped at that, his lips parting in consternation. "Conquest!"

"I hardly know what else to call it. But I still have a hell of a lot of dots to connect before I can sign off on this investigation. As soon as we get your consulate deep data crawlers up and running, that's the first thing I want to look for-a list of WhiteChrys personnel who have lately shifted all their investments to WhiteChrys Solstice, and are planning to follow them in person. Because, given the numbers, I also think it possible that this is could be a secret group inside WhiteChrys who are gutting their own company to feather their nests."

"Whew!" said Raven, with proper admiration. M'lord bestowed a pleased smile upon him.

Vorlynkin ran his hands through his hair. "How do you plan to nail the bastards? Bribing an Imperial Auditor may be as illegal as all hell on Barrayar, but we're on Kibou-daini. Even if you could prove it-and I'm afraid my testimony would be suspect, here-I doubt Wing would get more than a slap on the wrist."

"Actually, I would prefer not to give the slightest hint to anyone on Kibou that we've tumbled to them. The ideal revenge would be to let WhiteChrys get their hand so far into the cookie jar on Komarr that they can't get it out, then cut it off at the wrist by changing the contract rules just enough on 'em to make them drop the votes. Leaving them to be exactly what they feigned to be, a marginally profitable service company. That would hurt enough to be a warning to others. Brute nationalization is a last resort-it would piss off the rest of the Komarran business community regardless of the rights of the case. It'll take some study-I'm afraid we're going to be up to our ears in lawyers before this is done-but with luck my part of the task will be over by then." M'lord glanced up at Vorlynkin. "So what do you think of your Lieutenant Johannes? He's young, which makes him both poorer and potentially more gullible. Is he reliable enough for this?"

"I…" Vorlynkin was given pause. "I've never had cause to doubt him."

"And your local clerk, Yuuichi what's-his-name, Matson?"

"I've never had cause to doubt him, either. But we've never had a situation like this before."

"That you knew," sighed m'lord. "Yet routine travel visas for WhiteChrys personnel have been handled through the consulate all this time."

"Yes, but all we ask is business or tourism? Plus a quick background check for criminal records."

M'lord's eyes crinkled in speculation. "I wonder if we should add a box to tick off-Reason for travel: creepy planetary conquest…?no, I suppose not."

Vorlynkin said slowly, "What if I hadn't tried to turn you in just now?"

"Then you wouldn't be part of this debriefing, and I'd be on the lookout for ways to nail you to the wall, too. In passing." M'lord stretched and rolled his shoulders. Vorlynkin looked, Roic felt, properly thoughtful at last.

"Now, the other thing," m'lord began, but was interrupted when the sealed door chimed.

Lieutenant Johannes's voice issued from the intercom. "Consul? Lord Vorkosigan?"

"Yes?" responded m'lord.

"Um… Your half-sized courier's just turned up at the back door. And he's not alone."

M'lord's brows rose; Vorlynkin's drew down. Raven cocked his head in curiosity.

"Don't let him get away, Johannes," m'lord called back. "We'll be right there."

Motioning Roic to unseal the door, m'lord grabbed his cane and levered to his feet.

The kitchen of the consulate seemed homey, if spacious by Jin's standards. Maybe it was the cool dusk falling in the back garden that made it so warm and bright. Maybe it was all the dishes piled in the sink that made it look so, well, kitchen-y, as if a fellow could wander in and out to snack at will without being yelled at, even. But the noise of all the footsteps clumping up from the basement made Jin shift uneasily, and when Mina's little hand stole into his and clutched hard, he didn't shake her off.

Jin's timid knock had been answered by Lieutenant Johannes, who'd taken one look, cried You! and hustled them both inside, though he'd looked askance at Mina; added Wait right there, don't move; and thumped downstairs before Jin could get three words into his much-rehearsed explanation of how the police had taken Miles-san's money. So Jin was expecting the fierce-eyed Consul Vorlynkin, but behind him loomed the biggest Barrayaran Jin had seen yet, half a head taller than the tall consul. He wore clothes that reminded Jin of a military uniform, had short wavy brown hair and a firm square-jawed face, and looked older than Johannes but younger than the consul. Mina stared up at him with her mouth hanging open.

The big Barrayaran so filled up what had, till a moment before, seemed a wide doorway that it took a moment for Jin to notice the slim fellow with his hair in a neat dark braid who followed him, and another moment to spot Miles-san in their wake.

The little man shouldered past them all, coming face to face with Jin. He looked so different all cleaned up, more grownup, more…?daunting, that it was a couple of heartbeats before Jin, recovering from his shock, inhaled and cried, "My creatures! You promised you'd look after them!"

Miles-san held up a hand. "They're all right, Jin! When you didn't come back by midnight, I copied out your instructions and gave them to Ako. When I implied I was going to look for you, she was very willing to help out."

"But how did you get here?"

"Walked. Took me all that night."

From behind Jin, Mina asked interestedly, "Did you get lost, too?"

"We weren't lost, exactly," Jin denied, harassed. "Just turned around a little."

"And who are you, young lady?" Miles-san addressed Mina. "I don't believe we've been introduced."

"Sister," muttered Jin. "It wasn't my idea to bring her."

"I have a name," Mina pointed out. "It's Mina. Want to see my blisters?"

Miles-san didn't even blink. "Sure! Are they good ones? Have they popped yet?"

"Oh, yes-they made my socks all bloody, too."

"Well, Miss Mina, why don't you sit down here-" Miles-san pulled out a kitchen chair with a flourish, and half-bowed Mina into it, as if she'd been a grownup lady, "-and show me." He added over his shoulder, "Johannes. Find something for these children to eat. Cookies. Milk. Gingerbread, whatever."

"Are you Jin's galactic?" Mina asked, kicking off her sport shoes and picking at her splotched socks. "He told me all about you."

"Did he?" Miles-san knelt and helped her peel off her socks; she said ow, ow, as they parted stickily from her scabs. "My word, those are good blisters, aren't they?" He glanced up and gave Vorlynkin-san a head-jerk that sent the consul to rummage in the other end of the kitchen.

"Aunt Lorna buys all our shoes big to grow into," Mina explained to Miles-san. "That's why they slip around like that."

Lieutenant Johannes, peering doubtfully into the depths of the refrigerator, murmured, "Beer…??"

"Do you like beer, Mina?" Miles-san asked. She shook her head, making her straight black hair swing around her chin. "Thought not, somehow. You'll have to do better, Johannes. Aren't all you attache fellows supposed to be ImpSec trained? Improvise!"

Johannes muttered something through his teeth that Jin couldn't quite make out. He then conducted a brief survey which determined that vat-octopus pizza, no onions, was universally acceptable, and trod out to order some. Vorlynkin came back with what turned out to be a first-aid kit, which he handed off to the slim man with the braid, who didn't look Barrayaran at all, but didn't talk like someone from Kibou, either.

Mina leaned toward Miles-san and whispered anxiously, "That big guy isn't a policeman, is he?"