lmb.shardsofhonor-第30部分

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　〃May　I　congratulate　you；　sir？〃　he　smiled。
　〃No；　Lieutenant。〃
　He　unsmiled。　〃I…don't　understand；　sir。〃
　〃That's　quite　all　right；　Lieutenant。〃
　They　walked　on；　Cordelia　with　her　hands　in　her　pockets；　Vorkosigan　with　his　clasped　behind　his　back。
　Most　of　the　Escobaran　women　had　already　gone　up　by　shuttle　to　the　ship　that　had　arrived　to　transport　them　home；　late　next　afternoon；　when　a　spruce　Barrayaran　guard　appeared　at　the　door　of　their　shelter　requesting　Captain　Naismith。
　〃Admiral's　pliments；　ma'am；　and　he　wishes　to　know　if　you'd　care　to　check　the　data　on　the　marker　he　had　made　for　your　officer。　It's　in　his　office。〃
　〃Yes；　certainly。〃
　〃Cordelia；　for　God's　sake；〃　hissed　Lieutenant　Alfredi；　〃don't　go　in　there　alone。〃
　〃It's　all　right；〃　she　murmured　back　impatiently。　〃Vorkosigan's　all　right。〃
　〃Oh？　So　what　did　he　want　yesterday？〃
　〃I　told　you；　to　arrange　for　the　marker。〃
　〃That　didn't　take　two　solid　hours。　Do　you　realize　that's　how　long　you　were　gone？　I　saw　how　he　looked　at　you。　And　you…you　came　back　looking　like　death　warmed　over。〃
　Cordelia　irritably　waved　away　her　concerned　protests；　and　followed　the　extremely　polite　guard　to　the　cache　caverns。　The　planetside　administrative　offices　of　the　Barrayaran　force　were　set　up　in　one　of　the　side　chambers。　They　had　a　carefully　busy　air　that　suggested　the　nearby　presence　of　Staff　officers；　and　indeed　when　they　entered　Vorkosigan's　office；　his　name　and　rank　emblazoned　over　the　smudge　that　had　been　his　predecessor's；　they　found　him　within。
　Illyan；　a　captain；　and　a　modore　were　grouped　around　a　puter　interface　with　him；　evidently　undergoing　some　kind　of　briefing。　He　broke　off　to　greet　her　with　a　careful　nod；　which　she　acknowledged　in　kind。　I　wonder　if　my　eyes　look　as　hungry　as　his；　she　thought。　This　minuet　of　manners　we　go　through　to　conceal　our　private　selves　from　the　mob　will　be　for　nothing；　if　we　don't　hide　our　eyes　better。
　〃It's　on　the　clerk's　desk；　Cor…Captain　Naismith；〃　he　directed　her　with　a　wave　of　his　hand。　〃Go　ahead　and　look　it　over。〃　He　returned　his　attention　to　his　waiting　officers。
　It　was　a　simple　steel　tablet；　standard　Barrayaran　military　issue；　and　the　spelling；　numbers；　and　dates　were　all　in　order。　She　fingered　it　briefly。　It　certainly　looked　like　it　ought　to　last。　Vorkosigan　finished　his　business　and　came　to　her　side。
　〃Is　it　all　right？〃
　〃Fine。〃　She　gave　him　a　smile。　〃Could　you　find　the　grave？〃
　〃Yes；　your　camp's　still　visible　from　the　air　at　low　altitude；　although　another　rainy　season　will　obliterate　it…〃
　The　duty　guard's　voice　floated　in　over　a　motion　at　the　door。　〃So　you　say。　For　all　I　know　they　could　be　bombs。　You　can't　take　that　in　there；〃　followed　by　another　voice　replying；　〃He　has　to　sign　it　personally。　Those　are　my　orders。　You　guys　act　like　you　won　the　damn　war。〃
　The　second　speaker；　a　man　in　the　dark　red　uniform　of　an　Escobaran　medical　technician；　backed　through　the　door　followed　by　a　float…pallet　on　a　control　lead；　looking　like　some　bizarre　balloon。　It　was　loaded　with　large　canisters；　each　about　half　a　meter　high；　studded　with　control　modules　and　access　apertures。　Cordelia　recognized　them　at　once；　and　stiffened；　feeling　sick。　Vorkosigan　looked　blank。
　The　technician　stared　around。　〃I　have　a　receipt　for　these　that　requires　Admiral　Vorkosigan's　personal　signature。　Is　he　here？〃
　Vorkosigan　stepped　forward。　〃I'm　Vorkosigan。　What　are　these；　um。。。〃
　〃Medtech；〃　Cordelia　whispered　in　cue。
　〃Medtech？〃　Vorkosigan　finished　smoothly；　although　the　exasperated　glance　he　gave　her　suggested　that　was　not　the　cue　he'd　wanted。
　The　medtech　smiled　sourly。　〃We're　returning　these　to　the　senders。〃
　Vorkosigan　walked　around　the　pallet。　〃Yes；　but　what　are　they？〃
　〃All　your　bastards；〃　said　the　medtech。
　Cordelia；　catching　the　genuine　puzzlement　in　Vorkosigan's　voice；　added；　〃They're　uterine　replicators；　um；　Admiral。　Self…contained；　independently　powered…they　need　servicing；　though…〃
　〃Every　week；〃　agreed　the　medtech；　viciously　cordial。　He　held　up　a　data　disk。　〃They　sent　you　instructions　with　them。〃
　Vorkosigan　looked　appalled。　〃What　the　hell　am　I　supposed　to　do　with　them？〃
　〃Thought　you　were　going　to　make　our　women　answer　that　question；　did　you？〃　replied　the　medtech；　taut　and　sarcastic。　〃Personally；　I'd　suggest　you　hang　them　around　their　fathers'　necks。　The　paternal　gene　plements　are　marked　on　each　one；　so　you　should　have　no　trouble　telling　who　they　belong　to。　Sign　here。〃
　Vorkosigan　took　the　receipt　panel；　and　read　it　through　twice。　He　walked　around　the　pallet　again；　counting；　looking　deeply　troubled。　He　came　up　beside　Cordelia　in　his　circuit；　and　murmured；　〃I　didn't　realize　they　could　do　things　like　that。〃
　〃They　use　them　all　the　time　at　home。〃
　〃They　must　be　fantastically　plex。〃
　〃And　expensive；　too。　I'm　surprised…maybe　they　just　didn't　want　to　argue　about　taking　them　home　with　any　of　the　mothers。　A　couple　of　them　were　pretty　emotionally　divided　about　abortions。　This　puts　the　blood　guilt　on　you。〃　Her　words　seemed　to　enter　him　like　bullets；　and　she　wished　she'd　phrased　herself　differently。
　〃They're　all　alive　in　there？〃
　〃Sure。　See　all　the　green　lights？　Placentas　and　all。　They　float　right　in　their　amniotic　sacs；　just　like　home。〃
　〃Moving？〃
　〃I　suppose　so。〃
　He　rubbed　his　face；　staring　hauntedly　at　the　canisters。
　〃Seventeen。　God；　Cordelia；　what　do　I　do　with　them？　Surgeon；　of　course；　but。。。〃　He　turned　to　the　fascinated　clerk。　〃Get　the　chief　surgeon　down　here；　on　the　double。〃　He　turned　back　to　Cordelia；　keeping　his　voice　down。　〃How　long　will　those　things　keep　working？〃
　〃The　whole　nine　months；　if　necessary。〃
　〃May　I　have　my　receipt；　Admiral？〃　said　the　medtech　loudly。　〃I　have　other　duties　waiting。〃　He　stared　curiously　at　Cordelia　in　her　orange　pajamas。
　Vorkosigan　scribbled　his　name　absently　on　the　bottom　of　the　receipt　panel　with　a　light　pen；　thumbprinted　it；　and　handed　it　back；　still　slightly　hypnotized　by　the　pallet　load　of　canisters。　Cordelia；　morbidly　curious；　walked　around　them　too；　inspecting　the　readouts。　〃The　youngest　one　seems　to　be　about　seven　weeks　old。　The　oldest　is　over　four　months。　Must　have　been　right　after　the　war　started。〃
　〃But　what　do　I　do　with　them？〃　he　muttered　again。　She　had　never　seen　him　more　at　a　loss。
　〃What　do　you　usually　do　with　soldier's　by…blows？　Surely　the　situation　has　e　up　before；　not　on　this　scale；　maybe。〃
　〃We　usually　abort　bastards。　In　this　case；　it　seems　to　have　already　been　done；　in　a　sense。　So　much　trouble…do　they　expect　us　to　keep　them　alive？　Floating　fetuses…babies　in　cans。。。〃
　〃I　don't　know。〃　Cordelia　sighed　thoughtfully。　〃What　a　thoroughly　rejected　little　group　of　humanity　they　are。　Except…but　for　the　grace　of　God　and　Sergeant　Bothari；　one　of　those　canned　kids　might　have　been　mine；　and　Vorrutyer's。　Or　mine　and　Bothari's；　for　that　matter。〃
　He　looked　quite　ill　at　the　thought。　He　lowered　his　voice　almost　to　a　whisper；　and　began　again。　〃But　what　do　I…what　would　you　have　me　do　with　them？〃
　〃You're　asking　me　for　orders？〃
　〃I've　never…Cordelia；　please…what　honorable。。。〃
　It　must　be　quite　a　shock　to　suddenly　find　out　you're　pregnant；　seventeen　times　over…at　your　age；　too；　she　thought。　She　squelched　the　black　humor…he　was　so　clearly　out　of　his　depth…and　took　pity　on　his　real　confusion。　〃Take　care　of　them；　I　suppose。　I　have　no　idea　what　that　will　entail；　but…you　did　sign　for　them。〃
　He　sighed。　〃Quite。　Pledged　my　word；　in　a　sense。〃　He　set　the　problem　up　in　familiar　terms；　and　found　his　balance　therein。　〃My　word　as　Vorkosigan；　in　fact。　Right。　Good。　Objective　defined；　plan　of　attack　proposed…we're　in　business。〃
　The　surgeon　entered；　and　was　taken　aback　at　the　sight　of　the　float　pallet。　〃What　the　hell…oh；　I　know　what　they　are。　I　never　thought　I'd　see　one。。。〃　He　ran　his　fingers　over　one　canister　in　a　sort　of　technical　lust。　〃Are　they　ours？〃
　〃All　ours；　it　seems；〃　replied　Vorkosigan。　〃The　Escobarans　sent　them　down。〃
　The　surgeon　chuckled。　〃What　an　obscene　gesture。　One　can　see　why；　I　suppose。　But　why　not　just　flush　them？〃
　〃Some　unmilitary　notion　about　the　value　of　human　life；　perhaps；〃　said　Cordelia　hotly。　〃Some　cultures　have　it。〃
　The　surgeon　raised　an　eyebrow；　but　was　quelled；　as　much　by　the　total　lack　of　amusement　on　his　mander's　face　as　by　her　words。
　〃There　are　the　instructions。〃　Vorkosigan　handed　him　the　disk。
　〃Oh；　good。　Can　I　empty　one　out　and　take　it　apart？〃
　〃No；　you　may　not；〃　said　Vorkosigan　coldly。　〃I　pledged　my　word…as　Vorkosigan…that　they　would　be　cared　for。　All　of　them。〃
　〃How　the　devil　did　they　maneuver　you　into　that？　Oh；　well；　I'll　get　one　later；　maybe。。。〃　He　returned　to　his　examination　of　the　glittering　machinery。
　〃Have　you　the　facilities　here　to　handle　any　problems　that　may　arise？〃　asked　Vorkosigan。
　〃Hell；　no。　Imp　Mil　would　be　the　only　place。　And　they　don't　even　have　an　obstetrics　department。　But　I　bet　Research　would　love　to　get　hold　of　these　babies。。。〃
　It　took　Cordelia　a　dizzy　moment　to　realize　he　was　referring　to　the　uterine　replicators；　and　not　their　contents。
　〃They　have　to　be　serviced　in　a　week。　Can　you　do　it　here？〃
　〃I　don't　think。。。〃　The　surgeon　set　the　disk　into　the　monitor　at　the　clerk's　station；　and　began　flashing　through　it。　〃There　must　be　ten　written　kilometers　of　instructions…ah。　No。　We　don't　have…no。　Too　bad；　Admiral。　I'm　afraid　you'll　have　to　eat　your　word　this　time。〃
　Vorkosigan　grinned；　wolfishly　and　without　humor。　〃Do　you　recall　what　happened　to　the　last　man　who　called　me　on　my　word？〃
　The　surgeon's　smile　faded　into　uncertainty。
　〃These　are　your　orders；　then；〃　Vorkosigan　went　on；　clipped。　〃In　thirty　minutes　you；　personally；　will　lift　off　with　these…things；　for　the　fast　courier。　And　it　will　arrive　in　Vorbarr　Sultana　in　less　than　a　week。　You　will　go　to　the　Imperial　Military　Hospital　and　requisition；　by　whatever　means　necessary；　the　men　and　equipment　needed　to…plete　the　project。　Get　an　Imperial　order　if　you　have　to。　Directly；　not　through　channels。　I'm　sure　our　friend　Negri　will　put　you　in　touch。　See　them　set　up；　serviced；　and　report　back　to　me。〃
　〃We　can't　possibly　make　it　in　under　a　week！　Not　even　in　the　courier！〃
　〃You'll　make　it　in　five　days；　boosting　six　points　past　emergency　max　the　whole　way。　If　the　engineer's　been　doing　his　job；　the　engines　won't　blow　until　you　hit　eight。　Quite　safe。〃　H