"Do you seriously think ImpSec is full of conspirators?" Viceroy Count Aral Vorkosigan had actually abandoned one of Ma Kosti's famous spiced peach tarts during the conversation.

"I'm… not sure. The psychologist did say the woman was undoubtedly a little neurotic, prone to exaggeration. And after that incident with Simon, another plot seems a tad redundant. Guy Allegre's done a good job cleaning out the wainscoting. Still, Gregor and I are convinced it was a mistake to tell them." Miles, relenting, put down the forkful of tart he'd been suspending for several minutes.

Vicereine Countess Cordelia Vorkosigan raised an eyebrow. "Gregor too?"

"We talked to Kapas's family. Their name is disgraced, throughout the Imperium, for want of a better suspect. They didn't notice anything unusual about him that night, and if he had any treacherous thoughts, he never voiced them."

"A scapegoat," said the Count.

Miles shrugged. "Though it's hard to think of any kind of bribe or coercion that would move an ImpSec man, a Palace Guard, of all people. And besides that, I can't help thinking there's some kind of technology jump I'm missing. I mean, communication equipment that ImpSec can't detect? That's one of the areas I know they're on top of."

"That's a long way from accusing ImpSec."

Miles frowned at his plate. " 'What we're up against is bigger than ImpSec.' That's what they said. They also reminded me of the chip malfunction. Maybe not outright, detectable subterfuge, but a more… internal betrayal."

"Has it occurred to you that these people may not be trustworthy, Miles?" Said the Count.

"Or, simply put, why do you trust them?" The Countess tapped the table. "I don't think you're reasoning in advance of your evidence. This is an official Audit, isn't it?"

Miles nodded.

"Then you must have a concrete reason for it."

Miles opened his mouth, and shut it. He studied his mangled peach tart. After a moment, he said, "This is going to sound crazy."

"Try us." The Countess grinned.

Miles recounted yesterday's visit to the woman's cell, before she disappeared. "And she whispered in my ear, 'My name is Raina.' "

The Countess had a quizzical look on her face. Count Vorkosigan, on the other hand, leaned forward. "Raina. Like that Silvy Vale child."

Miles looked up with surprise. "You remember that?"

The Count favored him with a wry smile. "There are some things you shouldn't forget."

Miles felt obscurely warmed by this. My first real act as Lord Vorkosigan. And the first time I looked justice in the face. I never told you much about it, but you remembered. "I thought only the people of Silvy Vale and I would know the significance of that. A dead little girl… the name's not in my Service record, or the District records, and most second-tier ImpSec analysts couldn't find it. It's not a common name, either. That message was meant for me; I was the only one in the building who would have known the significance of it." Miles grimaced. "But that's just the trouble of it. What does it mean?"

"Raina, the little girl, must mean a lot to you," the Countess prompted.

Miles fell silent. He felt strange, telling his parents this. When he was younger, he wouldn't have dared. "She was Barrayar, to me. Still is, in a way. She was whom I served."

"A coded message, perhaps?" the Count suggested.

"No, I think it's something---" but the Countess was cut off when the doors to the dining room swung open. It was Pym.

"My apologies, my lords, my lady, but there's an urgent comconsole call. From the Imperial Residence."

The image which materialized on the library comconsole was startling. Gregor looked paler than usual, his eyes panicked. "Miles! Thank God you're there," he said.

Laisa popped into view. "My lord--- Miles, talk some sense into him, please!"

"What's wrong?" Miles said sharply. His heart was pounding. He'd never seen Gregor like this, not even during their adventure in the Hegen Hub.

Gregor said, "I… can't put my finger on it. They said, didn't they, that I'd know it if I saw it. Well, some of my guards are acting strangely. The shift change this morning… there was something stiff about them. Not real. It's hard to explain." His fist clenched, as though trying to grasp the shape of the problem.

"It's probably nothing---" Laisa said, as the Emperor pulled up a chair for his wife, "---we're all upset about the attempt, but you can't suspect everyone!" Laisa smiled worriedly. The failed assassination attempt had spooked her more than anyone else; she liked her first taste of true Vor paranoia even less. The uterine transfer had been delayed for an additional three days, probably on the Empress's insistence. She's probably read up on my beginnings, Miles thought.

Gregor took her hand. His tone evened out. "I've known these men all my adult life. Illyan may have trained them to out-bland the wall, but their personality shows through. And I've read Colonel Kapas's files. How do you turn a loyal ImpSec man into an assassin? Think about it."

"Have you told ImpSec?"

"No. And for better or worse I'm not planning on it," said Gregor.

Miles nodded. "You'll be safe here at Vorkosigan House, Sire."

"I'm not sure we can leave." Right, those guards are supposed to shadow him wherever he goes.

"Sire, we can send you some Armsmen, just in case," Count Vorkosigan said.

"Maybe I should go myself," said Miles, "Given the situation."

Suddenly Laisa looked up, and a male voice said, "Lord Vorkosigan, if you enter the Imperial Residence, you will die."

The comconsole keyed off.

Miles stared blankly at it for a moment, then swore. "I'm taking some Armsmen to the Residence."

The Count stopped him. "Are you sure that's wise, Miles?"

"I can't trust ImpSec, and I know a hostage situation when I see one. What choice do I have?"

"I think you should call Allegre." Their eyes met. Miles knew his father could alert ImpSec while he was gone.

"Give me half an hour's delay."

"He's my Emperor, too, you know. This endangers his life," the Count said firmly.

And I am the-Count-my-father's son. Miles eyed his father's unconsciously clenched hands. A dangerous sign. He took a breath. "I--- look, we have an equal chance of being right. But Gregor said he wasn't planning on calling ImpSec. Which is nearly an Imperial order."

The Count swallowed his rebuttal. "No time to argue. All right, a half hour. We'll all regret it if we're wrong."

"We'll all regret it if I'm late," Miles said, sprinting out. "And call Ekaterin! Send Armsmen to her," he called from the hall.

Count Vorkosigan shook his head. "Too hasty. Good Lord, Gregor and Laisa could be dead by now."

The Countess patted him on the shoulder. "I trust Gregor's instincts. And Miles's. I judge it to be an insoluble situation, anyway. It's not even like Vordarian's War, when the enemy was more clearly labeled as such. I just hope Miles can tell the difference in time." The Countess rose. "I'm going to call Ekaterin."

"I'll round up the Armsmen."