lmb.shardsofhonor-第29部分

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ng　up　every　hour　to　view　the　new　tacticals。
　Lieutenant　Illyan　watched　over　his　shoulder；　and　Vorkosigan　pointed　out　salient　features　of　the　strategy　to　him　as　they　came　up。
　〃It　looks　pretty　good　to　me；〃　Illyan　mented　once。　〃I　don't　see　why　you're　so　anxious。　We　really　could　carry　it　off；　in　spite　of　the　Esco's　superior　mand　of　resources　in　the　long　run。　Won't　do　them　any　good　if　it's　all　over　in　the　short　run。〃
　Afraid　to　put　Bothari　back　into　a　deep　a；　they　let　him　return　to　near…consciousness。　He　sat　in　the　corner　in　a　miserable　knot；　drifting　in　and　out　of　sleep　with　bad　dreams　in　both　states。
　Eventually　Illyan　took　himself　off　to　his　own　cabin　to　sleep；　and　Cordelia　had　another　nap　herself。　She　slept　a　long　time；　not　waking　until　Illyan　returned　with　another　tray　of　food。　She　was　being　disoriented　with　respect　to　time；　locked　in　this　changeless　room。　Vorkosigan；　however；　was　tracking　time　by　the　minute　now。　After　they　ate　he　vanished　into　the　bathroom　to　wash　and　shave；　and　returned　in　fresh　dress　greens；　as　neat　as　though　ready　for　a　conference　with　the　Emperor。
　He　checked　through　the　last　tactical　update　for　the　second　time。
　〃Have　they　started　landing　troops　yet？〃　Cordelia　asked。
　He　checked　his　chronometer。　〃Almost　an　hour　ago。　We　should　be　getting　the　first　reports　through　any　minute。〃　He　sat　now　without　fidgeting；　like　a　man　in　deep　meditation；　face　like　stone。
　That　hour's　tactical　update　arrived；　and　he　began　sorting　through　its　reports；　apparently　checking　key　items。　In　the　middle　of　it　his　screen　was　overridden　by　the　face　of　mander　Venne。
　〃modore　Vorkosigan？　We're　getting　something　very　strange　here。　Do　you　want　me　to　shunt　a　copy　of　raw　ining　straight　down　there？〃
　〃Yes；　please。　Immediately。〃
　Vorkosigan　searched　through　an　assortment　of　chatter　of　all　kinds；　and　picked　out　a　verbal　from　a　ship　mander；　a　dark　and　heavy…set　man　who　spoke　into　his　log　with　a　guttural　accent　tinged　by　fear。
　Here　it　es；　moaned　Cordelia　inwardly。
　〃…attacking　with　shuttles！　They're　returning　our　fire　shot　by　shot。　Plasma　shields　at　maximum　now…we　can't　put　more　power　into　them　and　still　keep　firing。　We　must　either　drop　shields　and　try　to　increase　our　firepower；　or　give　up　the　attack。。。〃　The　transmission　was　interrupted　by　static。　〃…don't　know　how　they're　doing　it。　They　can't　possibly　have　packed　enough　engine　in　those　shuttles　to　generate　this。。。〃　More　static。　The　transmission　abruptly　broke　off。
　Vorkosigan　selected　another。　Illyan　leaned　over　his　shoulder　anxiously。　Cordelia　sat　on　the　bed；　silent；　head　bowed；　listening。　The　cup　of　victory；　bitter　on　the　tongue；　heavy　in　the　stomach；　sad　as　defeat。。。
　〃…the　flagship　is　under　heavy　fire；〃　reported　another　mander。　Cordelia　recognized　the　voice　with　a　start；　and　craned　her　neck　for　a　view　of　his　face。　It　was　Gottyan；　evidently　he　had　his　captaincy　at　last。　〃I'm　going　to　drop　shields　altogether　and　attempt　to　knock　one　out　with　a　maximum　burst。〃
　〃Don't　do　it；　Korabik！〃　Vorkosigan　shouted　hopelessly。　The　decision；　whatever　it　was；　had　been　made　an　hour　ago；　its　consequences　ineradicably　fixed　in　time。
　Gottyan　turned　his　head　to　one　side。　〃Ready；　mander　Vorkalloner？　We　are　attempting…〃　he　began；　and　was　drowned　by　static；　then　silence。
　Vorkosigan　struck　his　fist　on　the　desk；　hard。　〃Damn！　How　the　hell　long　is　it　going　to　take　them　to　figure。。。〃　He　stared　into　the　snow；　then　reran　the　transmission；　transfixing　it　with　a　frightening　expression；　grief　and　rage　and　nausea　mixed。　He　then　selected　another　band；　this　time　a　puter　graphic　of　the　space　around　Escobar；　and　the　ships　as　little　colored　lights　winking　and　diving　through　it。　It　looked　tiny；　and　bright；　and　simple；　like　a　child's　game。　He　shook　his　head　at　it；　lips　tight　and　bloodless。
　Venne's　face　interrupted　again。　He　was　pale；　with　peculiar　lines　of　tension　running　down　to　the　corners　of　his　mouth。
　〃Sir；　I　think　you'd　better　e　to　the　Tactics　Room。〃
　〃I　can't；　Venne；　without　breaking　arrest。　Where's　modore　Helski；　or　modore　Couer？〃
　〃Helski　went　forward　with　the　Prince　and　Admiral　Vorhalas；　sir。　modore　Couer　is　here　now。　You're　the　ranking　flag　officer　aboard　now。〃
　〃The　Prince　was　quite　explicit。〃
　〃The　Prince…I　believe　the　Prince　is　dead；　sir。〃　Vorkosigan　closed　his　eyes；　and　a　sigh　went　out　of　him；　joylessly。　He　opened　them　again；　and　leaned　forward。　〃Is　that　confirmed？　Do　you　have　any　new　orders　from　Admiral　Vorhalas？〃
　〃It's…Admiral　Vorhalas　was　with　the　Prince；　sir。　Their　ship　was　hit。〃　Venne　turned　away　to　view　something　over　his　shoulder；　then　turned　back。　〃It's；〃　he　had　to　clear　his　throat；　〃it's　confirmed。　The　Prince's　flagship　has　been…obliterated。　There's　nothing　left　but　debris。　You're　in　mand　now；　sir。〃
　Vorkosigan's　face　was　cold　and　unhappy。　〃Then　transmit　Contingency　Blue　orders　at　once。　All　ships　cease　firing　immediately。　Put　all　power　into　shields。　This　ship　to　make　course　for　Escobar　now　at　maximum　boost。　We've　got　to　cut　down　on　our　transmission　time　lag。〃
　〃Contingency　Blue；　sir？　That's　full　retreat！〃
　〃I　know；　mander。　I　wrote　it。〃
　〃But　full　retreat。。。〃
　〃mander　Venne；　the　Escobarans　have　a　new　weapon　system。　It's　called　a　plasma　mirror　field。　It's　a　new　Betan　development。　It　turns　the　attacker's　burst　back　on　itself。　Our　ships　are　shooting　themselves　down　with　their　own　firepower。〃
　〃My　God！　What　can　we　do？〃
　〃Not　a　damn　thing；　unless；　we　want　to　start　boarding　their　ships　and　strangling　the　bastards　by　hand；　one　at　a　time。　Attractive；　but　impractical。　Transmit　those　orders。　And　order　the　mander　of　Engineers　and　the　Chief　Pilot　Officer　to　the　Tactics　Room。　And　get　the　guard　mander　down　here　to　relieve　his　men。　I　don't　care　to　be　stunned　on　the　way　out　the　door。〃
　〃Yes；　sir！〃　Venne　broke　off。
　〃Got　to　get　those　troopships　turned　around　first；〃　muttered　Vorkosigan；　rising　from　his　swivel　chair。　He　turned　to　find　both　Cordelia　and　Illyan　staring　at　him。
　〃How　did　you　know…〃　began　Illyan。
　〃…about　the　plasma　mirrors？〃　finished　Cordelia。
　Vorkosigan　was　quite　expressionless。　〃You　told　me；　Cordelia；　in　your　sleep；　while　Illyan　was　out。　Under　the　influence　of　one　of　the　surgeons　potions；　of　course。　You'll　suffer　no　ill　effects　from　it。〃
　She　stood　upright；　aghast。　〃That…you　miserable…torture　would　have　been　more　honorable！〃
　〃Oh；　smooth；　sir！〃　congratulated　Illyan。　〃I　knew　you　were　all　right！〃
　Vorkosigan　shot　him　a　look　of　dislike。　〃It　doesn't　matter。　The　information　was　confirmed　too　late　to　do　us　any　good。〃
　There　was　a　knock　on　the　door。
　〃e　on；　Illyan。　It's　time　to　take　my　soldiers　home。〃
　
　CHAPTER　TEN
　Illyan　came　back　promptly　for　Bothari；　barely　an　hour　later。　This　was　followed　for　Cordelia　by　twelve　hours　alone。　She　considered　escaping　the　room；　as　her　soldierly　duty；　and　engaging　in　a　little　one…woman　sabotage。　But　if　Vorkosigan　was　indeed　directing　a　full　retreat；　it　would　hardly　do　to　interfere。
　She　lay　on　his　bed　in　a　black　weariness。　He　had　betrayed　her；　he　was　no　better　than　the　rest　of　them。　〃My　perfect　warrior；　my　dear　hypocrite〃…and　it　appeared　Vorrutyer　had　known　him　better　than　she；　after　all…no。　That　was　unjust。　He　had　done　his　duty；　in　extracting　that　information；　she　had　done　the　same；　in　concealing　it　for　as　long　as　possible。　And　as　one　soldier　to　another；　even　if　an　ersatz　one…five　hours　active　service；　was　it？…she　had　to　agree　with　Illyan；　it　had　been　smooth。　She　could　detect　no　aftereffects　at　all　in　herself　from　whatever　he　had　used　for　the　secret　invasion　of　her　mind。
　Whatever　he　had　used。。。　What；　indeed；　could　he　have　used？　Where　had　he　cadged　it；　and　when？　Illyan　hadn't　brought　it　to　him。　He　had　been　as　surprised　as　she　when　Vorkosigan　dropped　that　bit　of　intelligence。　One　must　either　believe　he　kept　a　secret　stash　of　interrogation　drugs　hidden　in　his　quarters；　or。。。
　〃Dear　God；〃　she　whispered；　not　a　curse；　but　a　prayer。　〃What　have　I　stumbled　into　now？〃　She　paced　the　room；　the　connections　clicking　unstoppably　into　place。
　Heart…certainty。　Vorkosigan　had　never　questioned　her；　he　had　known　about　the　plasma　mirrors　in　advance。
　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　ha