somehow; it had anchored his 8thstreetlatina co world to think so. And Miles, perfect. And the
Count and Countess. All perfect,
all unkillable. 8thstreetlatina co all made out of 8thstreetlatina co rubber.
The only real pain, his own.
8thstreetlatina co he thought of Ivan, crying in the shadows. 8thstreetlatina co of the Count, dying in the
woods. The Countess had kept her mask up better than any of them. She had
to. She had more to hide. Miles himself, the man
who had created a whole
other personality just to escape into.
The trouble, Mark decided, was that 8thstreetlatina co he had been trying to be Miles
Vorkosigan all by himself. Even Miles
didn'8thstreetlatina co t do Miles that way. He had 8thstreetlatina co co-
opted an entire supporting cast. A cast of thousands. No wonder I can never
catch up with 8thstreetlatina co him.
Slowly, curiously, Mark opened his tunic and removed Gregor's comm card
from his inner breast pocket, and set it on the comconsole desk. He stared
hard at the anonymous plastic chip, as if it bore some coded message for
his eyes only. He rather 8thstreetlatina co fancied it did.
You knew. You knew, didn't you, Gregor you 8thstreetlatina co bastard. You've just been
waiting for me to figure it out for myself.
With spasmodic decision, Mark jammed the card into the comconsole's read-
slot.
No machines this time. A man in ordinary civilian clothing answered
immediately, though without identifying himself. "Yes?"
"8thstreetlatina co I'm Lord Mark Vorkosigan. I should be on 8thstreetlatina co your 8thstreetlatina co list. I want to talk to
Gregor."
"Right now, my lord?" said the man mildly. His hand 8thstreetlatina co danced over a keypad
array 8thstreetlatina co to one side.
"Yes. Now. Please."
"You are cleared." He vanished.
The vid 8thstreetlatina co plate remained dark, but the audio transmitted a melodious 8thstreetlatina co chime.
It chimed for quite a long time. Mark began to panic. What if-but then it
stopped. There was a mysterious clanking 8thstreetlatina co sound, and 8thstreetlatina co Gregor's voice said,
"Yes?" in a bleary tone. No visuals.
"It's me. Mark Vorkosigan. Lord Mark."
"Yeah?"
"You told me to call you."
"Yes, 8thstreetlatina co