|Great . . . First he thought I was insubordinate. Now he just thinks I'm crazy. Whoever I am.
||[Nov. 19th, 2004|07:10 am]
|||||The Arrival and the Union||]|
Goaded, Miles snapped, "Dammnit, sir, what would you have of me? The Dendarii are as much Barrayaran troops as any who wear the Emperor's Uniform, even if they don't know it. They are my assigned charge. I cannot neglect their urgent needs even to play to the part of Lieutenant Vorkosigan."
Galeni rocked back in his chair, his eyebrows shooting up. "Play the part of Lieutenant Vorkosigan? Who do you think you are?"
"I'm . . . " Miles fell silent, seized by a sudden vertigo, like falling down a defective lift tube. For a dizzy moment, he could even make sense of the question. The silence lengthened.
Galeni folded his hands on his desk with an unsettled frown. His voice went mild. "Lose track, did you?"
"I'm . . . " Miles's hands opened helplessly.
. . .
"Your logic has a few glaring weaknesses," sneered Galeni. . . . "Having Admiral Naismith's corpse on my hands would be just as embarrassing as having Lord Vorkosigan's. Schizoid or no, not even you can compartmentalize yourself to that extent."
"I am not schizoid," Miles bit off. "A little manic-depressive, maybe," he admitted in afterthought.
Galeni's lips twitched. "Know thyself."
"We try, sir."
Galeni paused, then chose perhaps wisely to ignore that one.
Brothers in Arms" Lois McMaster Bujold, Baen, 1989