"My lord? Madame Vorsoisson here to see you."

"Ekaterin? I hope she didn't… you didn't see anyone leaving here, did you?"

"I'm sorry, my lord. I was actually in the kitchen, for a snack, when Madame Vorsoisson let herself in through the servant's entrance." Pym looked a bit embarrassed. Ma Kosti had struck again. "Were you expecting anyone else?"

"No. Um, the alarms didn't go off, did they?"

"Who were you expecting, Miles?" Ekaterin wafted in. She had just gotten out of class at the University, her work smock still muddied. Despite her dishevelment, she looked as fresh as a hothouse rose. Miles captured her hand. Suppressing a grin, Pym bowed himself out.

"No one, just… trying to account for Zap, that's all. Why the servant's entrance?"

"Oh, I wanted to see how Ma Kosti's herb garden was doing." Miles made a mental note to add some potted plants to his suite; maybe she would stop by just to visit his garden. Then again, he'd likely have to pass that maintainance job to some minion. "Well, I can only stay a moment. I have some good news and some bad news."

"Mmm. Bad news first."

Ekaterin quirked an eyebrow. "All right. I'm afraid we'll have to cancel this weekend's opera."

Miles's stomach sank. The Vorbarr Sultana Opera Company was one of the few performance groups on Barrayar that preferred profit to Vor privilege; the box seats were enough to run Vorkosigan House for a week. He smiled weakly. "Oh, why?"

"Well, it's probably top secret, but since you're an ImpSec man, you can probably figure it out." Ekaterin smiled. "Haven't you heard? Empress Laisa's pregnant!"

It was several seconds before Miles clamped his jaw shut. "She is? Why didn't Gregor call? Is it a boy?"

"Where have you been, Miles. It's all over town. I thought you'd be one of the first to know. The Em--- Laisa's invited me to her baby shower."

Why hasn't Gregor called me yet? "Um, what's a baby shower?"

"Oh, it's a galactic custom the Komarrans picked up. It's a celebration with the expectant mother's female friends. You have one before the transfer to the uterine replicator."

"So she's decided on the replicator." The method of conception, not the method of birth, had been mired in controversy since the Imperial Wedding. The first, most sensible plan had been to do the process entirely in vitro, but many of the High Vor had objected, on the possibility of prenatal genetic tampering. No cooked-up Imperial heirs for this crowd.

Despite ImpSec's reassurances, Lady Alys Vorpatril's pressure, and Vicereine Countess Vorkosigan's oblique threats, the faction had not stood down. In fact, it had gained support. It was the Empress who had determined the compromise: just the first son. For the rest, it would be Gregor and Laisa's preference.

"Oh, yes, it shall be a replicator birth. I was under the impression that the Emperor would hear of nothing else. It is a boy, by the way."

Lord Vorkosigan the potential heir to the Imperium breathed a sigh of relief. "That is very good news indeed." Not that Gregor would leave it to chance. Things were looking up. The opera tickets might even be refundable. "Um, do you mind if I call Gregor right now?"

"No, not at all."

Suddenly Pym burst in with the ImpSec guard. "My lord---!"

A burning smell flooded into the room. From the master bedroom came a series of loud pops and a buzzing noise. A short circuit, Miles realized, as Pym hustled them outside. They passed more Armsmen on the way in with fire extinguishers. Ekaterin jumped when a low boom echoed from the inside.

It was some minutes before Pym returned. "It was the comconsole in your room, m'lord. We caught the fire before it started. But I'm not sure it's just a malfunction."

"How bad was the damage?" Miles swallowed.

"There's debris cutting through the opposite wall. It was a near thing you didn't make a call a moment earlier, m'lord."

Ekaterin shivered. Miles cursed under his breath and tracked off to get a direct line to ImpSec.