lmb.shardsofhonor-第27部分

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　It　appeared；　further；　that　he　was　the　only　man　in　the　Barrayaran　mand　who　knew。　Vorhalas　had　not。　The　Prince　certainly　had　not。　Nor　Illyan。
　〃Put　all　the　bad　eggs　in　one　basket；〃　she　muttered。　〃And…drop　the　basket？　Oh；　it　couldn't　have　been　his　own　plan！　Surely　not。。。〃
　She　had　a　sudden　horrific　vision　of　it；　all　plete；　the　most　wasteful　political　assassination　plot　in　Barrayaran　history；　and　the　most　subtle；　the　corpses　hidden　in　a　mountain　of　corpses；　forever　inextricable。
　But　he　must　have　had　the　information　from　somewhere。　Somewhere　between　the　time　she　had　left　him　with　no　worse　troubles　than　an　engine　room　full　of　mutineers；　and　now；　struggling　to　pull　a　disarmed　armada　back　to　safety　before　the　destruction　they　had　unleashed　crashed　back　on　them。　Somewhere　in　a　quiet；　green　silk　room；　where　a　great　choreographer　designed　a　dance　of　death；　and　the　honor　of　a　man　of　honor　was　broken　on　the　wheel　of　his　service。
　Vorrutyer　of　the　demonic　vanity　shrank；　and　shrank；　before　the　swelling　vision；　to　a　mouse；　to　a　flea；　to　a　pinprick。
　〃My　God；　I　thought　Aral　seemed　twitchy。　He　must　be　half…mad。　And　the　Emperor…the　Prince　was　his　son。　Can　this　be　real？　Or　have　I　gone　as　crazy　as　Bothari？〃
　She　forced　herself　to　sit；　then　lie　down；　but　the　plots　and　counterplots　still　turned　in　her　brain；　an　gallery　of　betrayal　within　betrayal　lining　up　abruptly　at　one　point　in　space　and　time　to　acplish　its　end。　The　blood　beat　in　her　brain；　thick　and　sick。
　〃Maybe　it's　not　true；〃　she　consoled　herself　at　last。　〃I'll　ask　him；　and　that's　what　he'll　say。　He　just　questioned　me　in　my　sleep。　We　got　the　drop　on　them；　and　I'm　the　heroine　who　saved　Escobar。　He's　just　a　simple　soldier；　doing　his　job。〃　She　turned　on　her　side；　and　stared　into　the　dimness。　〃Pigs　have　wings；　and　I　can　fly　home　on　one。〃　Illyan　relieved　her　at　last；　and　took　her　to　the　brig。
　The　atmosphere　there　was　somewhat　changed；　she　noticed。　The　guards　did　not　look　at　her　in　the　same　way；　in　fact；　they　seemed　to　try　to　avoid　looking　at　her。　The　procedures　were　still　stark　and　efficient；　but　subdued；　very　subdued。　She　recognized　a　face；　the　guard　who　had　escorted　her　to　Vorrutyer's　quarters；　the　one　who'd　pitied　her；　seemed　to　be　in　charge　now；　a　pair　of　new　red　lieutenant's　tabs　pinned　hastily　and　crookedly　to　his　collar。　She　had　donned　Vorrutyer's　fatigues　again　for　the　trip　down。　This　time　she　was　permitted　to　change　in　to　the　orange　pajamas　in　physical　privacy。　She　was　then　escorted　to　a　permanent　cell；　not　a　holding　area。
　The　cell　had　another　occupant；　a　young　Escobaran　woman　of　extraordinary　beauty　who　lay　on　her　bunk　staring　at　the　wall。　She　did　not　look　up　at　Cordelia's　entrance；　nor　respond　to　her　greeting。　After　a　time；　a　Barrayaran　medical　team　arrived　and　took　her　away。　She　went　wordlessly；　but　at　the　door　she　started　to　struggle　with　them。　At　a　sign　from　the　doctor　a　corpsman　sedated　her　with　an　ampule　which　Cordelia　thought　she　recognized；　and　after　another　moment　she　was　carried　out　unconscious。
　The　doctor；　who　from　his　age　and　rank　Cordelia　guessed　might　be　the　chief　surgeon；　stayed　a　short　time　to　attend　to　her　ribs。　After　that　she　was　left　alone；　with　nothing　but　the　periodic　delivery　of　rations　to　mark　the　time；　and　occasional　changes　in　the　slight　noises　and　vibrations　from　the　walls　around　her　on　which　to　base　guesses　about　what　was　happening　outside。
　About　eight　ration　packs　later；　as　she　was　lying　on　her　bunk　bored　and　depressed；　the　lights　dimmed。　They　came　back；　but　dimmed　again　almost　immediately。
　〃Awk；〃　she　muttered；　as　the　bottom　dropped　out　of　her　stomach　and　she　began　to　float　upward。　She　made　a　hasty　grab　and　held　on　to　her　bunk　firmly。　Her　foresight　was　rewarded　a　moment　later　when　she　was　crushed　back　into　it　at　about　three　gees。　The　lights　flickered　on　and　off　again；　and　she　was　weightless　once　more。
　〃Plasma　attack；〃　she　murmured　to　herself。　〃Shields　must　be　overloaded。〃
　A　tremendous　shock　rattled　the　ship。　She　was　flung　from　her　bunk　across　the　cell　into　total　blackness；　weightlessness；　silence。　Direct　hit！　She　ricocheted　off　the　far　wall；　flailing　for　a　handhold；　banging　an　elbow　painfully　on…a　wall？　the　floor；　the　ceiling？　She　spun　in　midair；　crying　out。　Friendly　fire；　she　thought　hysterically…I'm　going　to　be　killed　by　friendly　fire。　The　perfect　end　to　my　military　career。。。　She　clamped　her　jaw　and　listened　with　fierce　concentration。
　Too　much　silence。　Had　they　lost　air？　She　had　a　nasty　vision　of　herself　as　the　only　one　left　alive；　trapped　in　this　black　box　and　doomed　to　float　until　either　slow　suffocation　or　slow　freezing　squeezed　out　her　life。　The　cell　would　be　her　coffin；　to　be　unsealed　months　later　by　some　salvage　crew。
　And；　more　horribly：　could　the　hit　have　been　on　the　bridge？　The　nerve　center　where　Vorkosigan　would　surely　be；　on　which　the　Escobarans　would　surely　concentrate　their　fire…was　he　smashed　by　flying　debris；　flash　frozen　in　vacuum；　burned　up　in　plasma　fire；　pinned　somewhere　between　crushed　decks？
　Her　fingers　found　a　surface　at　last；　and　scrabbled　for　a　hold。　A　corner：　good。　She　braced　herself　in　it；　curled　up　on　the　floor；　breath　firing　in　and　out　of　her　lungs　in　uneven　gasps。
　An　unknowable　time　passed　in　the　Stygian　dark。　Her　arms　and　legs　trembled　with　the　effort　of　bracing　herself　in　place。　Then　the　ship　groaned　about　her；　and　the　lights　came　back　on。
　Oh　hell；　she　thought；　this　is　the　ceiling。
　The　gravity　returned　and　smashed　her　to　the　floor。　Pain　flashed　up　her　left　arm；　and　numbness。　She　scrambled　back　to　the　bunk；　taking　a　white…knuckle　grip　on　its　rigid　bars　with　her　right　hand；　sticking　one　foot　through　as　well；　bracing　herself　again。
　Nothing。　She　waited。　There　was　a　wetness　soaking　her　orange　shirt。　She　looked　down　to　see　a　shard　of　pinkish…yellow　bone　poking　through　the　skin　of　her　left　forearm；　and　blood　welling　around　it。　She　slipped　awkwardly　out　of　her　smock　top；　wrapping　it　around　one　arm　and　trying　to　stanch　the　flow。　The　pressure　woke　the　pain。　She　tried；　rather　experimentally；　calling　out　for　help。　Surely　the　cell　was　monitored。
　No　one　came。　Over　the　next　three　hours　she　varied　the　experiment　with　screaming；　speaking　reasonably；　banging　on　the　door　and　walls　endlessly　with　her　good　hand；　or　simply　sitting　on　the　bunk　crying　in　pain。　The　gravity　and　lights　flip…flopped　several　more　times。　Finally　she　had　the　familiar　sensation　of　being　pulled　inside…out　through　a　pot　of　glue；　marking　a　wormhole　jump；　and　the　environment　steadied。
　When　the　door　of　the　cell　opened　at　last；　it　startled　her　so　she　recoiled　into　the　wall；　banging　her　head。　But　it　was　the　lieutenant　in　charge　of　the　brig；　with　a　medical　corpsman。　The　lieutenant　had　an　interesting　reddish…purple　bruise　the　size　of　an　egg　on　his　forehead；　the　corpsman　looked　harried。
　〃This　is　the　next　worst　one；〃　said　the　lieutenant　to　the　corpsman。　〃After　that　you　can　just　go　down　the　row　in　order。〃
　White…faced　and　exhausted　into　silence；　she　unwrapped　her　arm　for　examination　and　repair。　The　corpsman　was　petent；　but　lacked　the　delicacy　of　touch　of　the　chief　surgeon。　She　nearly　fainted　before　the　plastic　cast　was　at　last　applied。
　There　were　no　more　signs　of　attack。　A　clean　prisoner's　uniform　was　delivered　through　a　wall　slot。　Two　ration　packs　later　she　felt　another　wormhole　jump。　Her　thought　revolved　endlessly　on　the　wheel　of　her　fears；　her　sleep　was　all　dreams　and　her　dreams　were　all　nightmares。
　It　was　Lieutenant　Illyan　who　came　to　escort　her　at　last；　along　with　an　ordinary　guard。　She　nearly　kissed　him；　in　her　joy　at　seeing　a　familiar　face。　Instead　she　cleared　her　throat　diffidently；　and　asked　with　what　she　hoped　would　pass　for　nonchalance；　〃Was　modore　Vorkosigan　all　right；　after　that　attack？〃
　His　eyebrows　rose；　and　he　shot　her　a　look　of　bemused　study　from　beneath　them。　〃Of　course。〃
　Of　course。　Of　course。　That　〃of　course〃　even　suggested；　uninjured。　Her　eyes　puddled　with　relief；　which　she　attempted　to　mask　with　an　expression　of　cool　professional　interest。　〃Where　are　you　taking　me？〃　she　asked　him；　as　they　left　the　brig　and　started　down　the　corridor。
　〃Shuttle。　You're　to　be　transferred　to　the　POW　camp　planetside；　until　the　exchange　arrangements　are　made；　and　they　begin　shipping　you　all　home。〃
　〃Home！　What　about　the　war？〃
　〃It's　over。〃
　〃Over！〃　She　assimilated　that。　〃Over。　That　was　quick。　Why　aren't　the　Escobarans　pursuing　their　advantage？〃
　〃They　can't。　We've　blocked　the　wormhole　exit。〃
　〃Blocked？　Not　blockaded？〃
　He　nodded。
　〃How　the　devil　do　you　block　a　wormhole？〃
　〃In　a　way；　it's　a　very　old　idea。　Fireships。〃
　〃Huh？〃
　〃Send　a　ship　in；　set　up　a　major　matter…antimatter　explosion　at　a　midpoint　between　nodes。　It　sets　up　a　resonance…nothing　else　can　get　through　for　weeks；　until　it　dies　down。〃
　Cordelia　whistled。　〃Clever…why　didn't　we　think　of　that？　How　do　you　get　the　pilot　out？〃
　〃Maybe　that's　why　you　didn't　think　of　it。　We　don't。〃
　〃God…what　a　death。〃　Her　vision　of　it　was　clear　and　instant。
　〃They　were　volunteers。〃
　She　shook　her　head　numbly。　〃Only　a　Barrayaran。。。〃　She　probed　for　some　less　horrifying　subject。　〃Did　you　take　many　prisoners？〃
　〃Not　very。　Maybe　a　thousand　in　all。　We　left　over　eleven　thousand　ground　troops　behind　on　Escobar。　It　makes　you　rather　valuable；　if　we　have　to　try　to　trade　you　more　than　ten　for　one。〃
　The　prisoners'　shuttle　was　a　windowless　craft；　and　she　shared　it　with　only　two　others；　one　of　her　own　engineer's　assistants；　and　the　dark…haired　Escobaran　girl　who　had　been　in　her　cell。　Her　tech　was　eager　to　exchange　stories；　although　he　didn't　have　much　to　trade。　He　had　spent　the　whole　time　locked　in　one　cell　with　his　other　three　shipmates；　who　had　been　taken　downside　yesterday。
　The　beautiful　Escobaran；　a　young　ensign　who　had　been　captured　when　her　ship　was　disabled　in　the　fighting　for　the　wormhole　jump　to　Beta　Colony　over　two　months　ago；　had　even　less　to　tell。
　〃I　must　have　lost　track　of　time；　somewhere；〃　she　said　uneasily。　〃Not　hard　to　do　in　that　cell；　seeing　no　one。　Except　that　I　woke　up　in　their　sickbay；　yesterday；　and　couldn't　remember　how　I'd　e　there。〃
　And　if　that　surgeon's　as　good　as　he　looked；　you　never　will；　thought　Cordelia。　〃Do　you　remember　Admiral　Vorrutyer？〃
　〃Who？〃
　〃Never　mind。〃
　The　shuttle　landed　at　last；　and　the　hatch　was　opened。　A　shaft