By Lois McMaster Bujold
Whilst the Cetagandan empress dies, Miles Vorkosigan and his cousin Ivan are despatched to Cetaganda for her funeral as diplomatic representatives of Barrayar. Upon arrival, the 2 males are inexplicably attacked by way of a servant of the overdue empress. whilst an identical servant turns up lifeless tomorrow, Miles and Ivan locate themselves in the course of a secret. Miles attempts to play detective in a wierd, advanced, and deceptively alien tradition, whereas lascivious Ivan manages to get himself concerned with numerous noble ladies even as, a diplomatic no-no of the 1st order. because the plot thickens, it turns into transparent that it's as much as Miles to avoid wasting the empire. together with her traditional ability, Bujold addresses undying problems with human identification during the own dramas of her characters.
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Additional resources for Cetaganda (Vorkosigan Saga, Book 9)
Now not inevitably, i assume. Their components of accountability are hugely segregated. " A majordomo took heart level, and made a silent movement. each voice within the dell went nonetheless. each haut-lord dropped to his knees on padded rests thoughtfully supplied in entrance of the benches. the entire white bubbles bobbled–Miles nonetheless questioned what number of the haut-women cheated and minimize corners at those ceremonies. After an anticipatory hush, the emperor himself arrived, escorted through guards in white and bloodred uniforms, zebra-faced, of bad element in case you took them heavily.
His lips moved, yet no matter if in curses, prayers, or rehearsals Miles wasn't definite. He was once aged yet no longer frail, broad-shouldered and at the least as tall as Ivan. He wore what Miles guessed was once the uniform of a station worker, cool grey and mauve. positive white hair wisped over his scalp, yet he had no facial hair in any respect on his glossy epidermis, neither beard nor eyebrows nor even down. His hand flew to his left vest, over his center. "Weapon! " Miles yelled in caution. The startled pod pilot was once nonetheless snaking his manner away from his seat straps, and Miles used to be bodily ill-equipped to leap someone, yet Ivan's reflexes have been honed via lots of education, if no longer genuine strive against.
Yet my actual disabilities are solely teratogenic, harm performed through a poison I encountered pre-natally. no longer genetic. it's totally very important to me that be sincerely understood. " Miles notion in brief of his personal ImpSec eavesdroppers. "The haut-women, it seems that, acquire strange normal genetic adaptations for his or her examine. The haut Rian Degtiar appeared particularly upset to benefit I held not anything of curiosity, genetically talking. Or so I accrued. She talked all over the subject–I'm uncertain yet what she perceived her personal curiosity as being quite, um, questionable.
He wore what Miles guessed used to be the uniform of a station worker, cool grey and mauve. superb white hair wisped over his scalp, yet he had no facial hair in any respect on his glossy pores and skin, neither beard nor eyebrows nor even down. His hand flew to his left vest, over his middle. "Weapon! " Miles yelled in caution. The startled pod pilot was once nonetheless snaking his means away from his seat straps, and Miles was once bodily ill-equipped to leap someone, yet Ivan's reflexes have been honed by way of lots of education, if now not real wrestle.
No. via a ways the simplest method was once to allow his . . . adversaries, locate him, yet they have been being tediously gradual approximately it. Miles's eye swept the throng for males with out eyebrows, with out luck. yet Ivan had discovered a gorgeous girl already. Miles blinked, as he registered simply how attractive. She used to be tall and slender, the surface of her face and fingers as delicately delicate as porcelain. Jeweled bands sure her blond-white hair loosely on the nape of her neck, and back at her waist. The hair didn't path to its silky finish till midway to her knees.