Komarr - Bujold Lois Mcmaster (читать книги бесплатно полностью без регистрации сокращений txt) 📗

"Yes, indeed."

"Actually, there is more to my visit than just cleaning out Administrator Vorsoisson's office." Venier took a deep breath. "I wanted to speak to you privately."

Miles, who had been about to reenter the kitchen from the balcony, froze. Dammit, ImpSec had questioned and cleared Venier, hadn't they? What new secret could he be about to offer, and to Ekaterin of all people? If Miles entered, would he clam up?

"Well . . . well, all right. Um, why don't you sit down?"

"Thank you." The scrape of chairs.

Venier began again, "I've been thinking about how awkward your situation here has become since the Administrator's death. I'm so very sorry, but I couldn't help being aware, watching you over the months, that things were not what they should have been between you and your late husband."

"Tien . . . was difficult. I didn't realize it showed."

"Tien was an ass," Venier stated flatly. "That showed. Sorry, sorry. But it's true, and we both know it."

"It's moot now." Her tone was not encouraging.

Venier forged on. "I heard about how he played fast and loose with your pension. His death has plunged you into a monstrous situation. I understand you are being forced to return to Barrayar."

Ekaterin said slowly, "I plan to return to Barrayar, yes."

He ought to clear his throat, Miles thought. Trip over a balcony chair. Pop back through the door and cry, Vennie, fancy meeting you here! He began breathing through his mouth, for silence, instead.

"I realize this is a bad time to bring this up, much too soon," Venier went on. "But I've been watching you for months. The way you were treated. Practically a prisoner, in a traditional Barrayaran marriage. I could not tell how willing a prisoner you were, but now—have you considered staying on Komarr? Not going back into your cell? You have this chance, you see, to escape."

Miles could feel his heart begin to beat, in a free-form panic. Where was Venier going with this?

"I … the economics . . . our return passage is a death benefit, you see." That same wary softness.

"I have an alternative to offer you." Venier swallowed; Miles swore he could hear the slight gurgle in his narrow neck. "Marry me. It would give you the legal protection you need to stay here. No one could force you back, then. I could support you, while you train up to your full strength, botany or chemistry or anything you choose. You could be so much. I can't tell you how it's turned my stomach, to see so much human potential wasted on that clown of a Barrayaran. I realize that for you it would have to start as a marriage of convenience, but as a Vor, that's surely not an alien idea for you. And it could grow to be more, in time, I'm certain it could. I know it's too soon, but soon you'll be gone and then it will be too late!"

Venier paused for breath. Miles bent over, mouth still open, in a sort of silent scream. My lines! My lines! Those were all my lines, dammit! He'd expected Vorish rivals for Ekaterin's hand to come pouring out of the woodwork as soon as the widow touched down in Vorbarr Sultana, but my God, she hadn't even got off Komarr yet! He hadn't thought of Venier, or any other Komarran, as possible competition. He wasn't competition, the idea of Vennie as competition was laughable. Miles had more power, position, money, rank, all to lay at her feet when the time was finally ripe—Venier wasn't even taller than Ekaterin, he was a good four centimeters shorter—

The one thing Miles couldn't offer, though, was less Barrayar. In that, Venier had an advantage Miles could never match.

There followed a long, terrifying silence, during which Miles's brain screamed, Say no, say no! say NO!

"That's very kindly offered," Ekaterin said at last.

What the hell is that supposed to mean? And was Venier wondering the same thing?

"Kindness has nothing to do with it. I—" Venier cleared his throat again "—admire you very much."

"Oh, dear."

He added eagerly, "I've applied for the administrative position as head of terraforming here. I think I have a good chance, because of the disruption in the department, HQ is surely going to be looking for some continuity. Or if the mud has splattered on the innocent as well as the guilty, I'll do whatever I have to do to get another shot, a chance to clear my professional reputation—I can make Serifosa Sector a showcase, I know I can. If you stay, I can get you voting shares. We could do it together; we could make this place a garden. Stay here and help build a world!"

Another long, terrifying silence. Then Ekaterin said, "I suppose you'd be assigned this apartment, if you succeeded to Tien's position."

"It goes with it," said Venier in an uncertain voice. Right, that wasn't a selling point, though Miles wasn't sure if Venier knew it. I can hardly bear being in this place, she'd said.

"You offer is kind and generous, Venier. But you have mistaken my situation, somewhat. No one is forcing me to return home. Komarr . . . I'm afraid these domes give me claustrophobia, anymore. Every time I pull on a breath mask, I'm going to think about the ugly way Tien died."

"Ah," said Venier. "I can understand that, but perhaps, in time . . . ?"

"Oh, yes. Time. Vor custom calls for a widow to mourn for one year." Miles could not guess what gesture, what facial expression, went with these words. A grimace? A smile?

"Do you hold to that archaic custom? Must you? Why? I never understood it. I thought in the Time of Isolation they tried to keep all women married all the time."

"Actually, I think it was practical. It gave time to be certain any pregnancy that might have been started could be completed while the woman was still under the control of her late husband's family, so they could be sure of claiming custody of any male issue. But still, whether I believe in formal mourning or not won't matter. As long as people think I do, I can use it to defend myself from—from unwanted suits. I so much need a quiet time and place to find my balance again."

There was a short silence. Then Venier said, more stiffly, "Defend? I did not mean my proposal as an attack, Kat."

"Of course I don't think that," she replied faintly.

Lie, lie. Of course she bloody well did. Ekaterin had experienced marriage as one long siege of her soul. After ten years of Tien, she probably felt about matrimony the way Miles felt about needle-grenade launchers. This was very bad for Venier. Good. But it was equally bad for Miles. Bad. Good. Bad. Good. Bad …

"Kat, I … I won't make a pest of myself. But think about it, think about all your alternatives, before you do anything irrevocable. I'll still be here."

Another awful silence. Then, "I don't wish to give you pain, who never gave me any, but it's wrong to make people live on false hopes." A long, indrawn breath, as if she was mustering all her strength. "No."

Yes!

And then, added more weakly, "But thank you so much for caring about me."

Longer silence. Then Venier said, "I meant to help. I can see I've made it worse. I really must be going, I still have to pick up dinner on the way home …"

Yes, and eat it alone, you miserable rabbit! Ha!

"Madame Vorsoisson, good night."

"Let me see you to the door. Thank you again for bringing Tien's things. I do hope you get Tien's job, Venier, I'm sure you could do it well. It's time they started promoting Komarrans into the higher administrative positions again …"