"Barrayar 15 - Miles Vorkosigan 13 - Diplomatic Immunity" - читать интересную книгу автора (Bujold Lois McMaster)

УI gather it's some sort of legal entanglement, sir.Ф

I smell diplomacy. Miles grimaced. УWell, no doubt the sealed message will make it more plain. Bring it to me, and I'll take a look while we get packed up.Ф

УYes, sir. The Kestrel will be locking on in just a few minutes.Ф

УVery good, Lieutenant.Ф Miles cut the com.

УWe?Ф said Ekaterin in a quiet tone.

Miles hesitated. Not a quarantine, the lieutenant had said. Not, apparently, a shooting war either. Or not yet, anyway. On the other hand, he couldn't imagine Emperor Gregor interrupting his long-delayed honeymoon for something trivial. УI'd better see what Gregor has to say, first.Ф

She dropped a kiss on the top of his head, and said simply, УRight.Ф

Miles raised his personal wrist com to his lips and murmured, УArmsman RoicЧon duty, to my cabin, now.Ф

* * *

The data disk with the Imperial Seal upon it that the lieutenant handed to Miles a short time later was marked Personal, not Secret. Miles sent Roic, his bodyguard-cum-batman, and Smolyani off to sort and stow luggage, but motioned Ekaterin to stay. He slipped the disk into the secured player that the lieutenant had also brought, set it on the cabin's bedside table, and keyed it to life. He sat back on the edge of the bed beside her, conscious of the warmth and solidity of her body. For the sake of her worried eyes, he took her hand in a reassuring grip.

Emperor Gregor Vorbarra's familiar features appeared, lean, dark, reserved. Miles read profound irritation in the subtle tightening of his lips.

УI'm sorry to interrupt your honeymoon, Miles,Ф Gregor began. УBut if this has caught up with you, you haven't changed your itinerary. So you're on your way home now in any case.Ф

Not too sorry, then.

УIt's my good luck and your bad that you happen to be the man physically closest to this mess. Briefly, one of our Komarr-based trade fleets put in at a deep-space facility out near Sector V, for resupply and cargo transfer. OneЧor more, the reports are unclearЧof the officers from its Barrayaran military escort either deserted, or was kidnapped. Or was murderedЧthe reports are unclear about that, too. The patrol the fleet commander sent to retrieve him ran into trouble with the locals. ShotsЧI phrase this advisedlyЧshots were fired, equipment and structures were damaged, people on both sides were apparently seriously injured. No other deaths reported yet, but that may have changed by the time you get this, God help us.

УThe problemЧor one of them, anywayЧis that we're getting a significantly different version of the chain of events from the local ImpSec observer on the Graf Station side of the conflict than we're getting from our fleet commander. Yet more Barrayaran personnel are now reported either held hostage, or arrested, depending on which version one is to believe. Charges filed, fines and expenses mounting, and the local response has been to lock down all ships currently in dock until the muddle is resolved to their satisfaction. The Komarran cargomasters are now screaming back to us over the heads of their Barrayaran escort, with yet a third spin on events. For your, ah, delectation, all the original reports we've received so far from all the viewpoints are appended to this message. Enjoy.Ф Gregor grimaced in a way that made Miles twitch.

УJust to add to the delicacy of the problem, the fleet in question is about fifty percent Toscane-owned.Ф Gregor's new wife, Empress Laisa, was a Toscane heiress and a Komarran by birth, a political marriage of enormous importance to the peace of the fragile union of planets that was the Imperium. УThe problem of how to satisfy my in-laws while simultaneously presenting the appearance of Imperial evenhandedness to all their Komarran commercial rivalsЧI leave to your ingenuity.Ф Gregor's thin smile said it all.

УYou know the drill. I request and require you, as my Voice, to get yourself to Graf Station with all safe speed and sort out the situation before it deteriorates further. Pry all my subjects out of the hands of the locals and get the fleet back on its way. Without starting a war, if you please, or breaking my Imperial budget.

УAnd, critically, find out who's lying. If it's the ImpSec observer, that's a problem to bounce to their chain of command. If it's the fleet commanderЧwho is Admiral Eugin Vorpatril, by the wayЧit becomes...very much my problem.Ф

Or rather, very much the problem of Gregor's proxy, his Emperor's Voice, his Imperial Auditor. Namely Miles. Miles considered the interesting pitfalls inherent in attempting, without backup, far from home, to arrest the ranking military officer out of the middle of his long-standing and possibly personally loyal command. A Vorpatril, too, scion of a Barrayaran aristocratic clan of far-flung and important political connections within the Council of Counts. Miles's own aunt and cousin were Vorpatrils. Oh, thank you, Gregor.

The Emperor continued, УIn matters rather closer to Barrayar, something has stirred up the Cetagandans around Rho Ceta. No need to go into the peculiar details here, but I would appreciate it if you would settle this impoundment crisis as swiftly and efficiently as you can. If the Rho Cetan business becomes any more peculiar, I'll want you safely home. The communications lag between Barrayar and Sector V is going to be too long to for me to breathe over your shoulder, but some occasional status or progress reports from you would be a nice touch, if you don't mind.Ф Gregor's voice did not change to convey irony. It didn't need to. Miles snorted. УGood luck,Ф Gregor concluded. The image on the viewer returned to a mute display of the Imperial Seal. Miles reached forward and keyed it off. The detailed reports, he could study once he was en route.

He? Or we?

He glanced up at Ekaterin's pale profile; she turned her serious blue eyes toward him. He asked, УDo you want to go with me, or continue on home?Ф

УCan I go with you?Ф she asked doubtfully.

УOf course you can! The only question is, would you like to?Ф

Her dark brows rose. УNot the only question, surely. Do you think I'd be of any use, or would I just be a distraction from your work?Ф